Renegade: A Young Adult Dystopian Read online

  Saying a mental goodbye to his friends who lingered behind it’s walls, he snapped forward as Tadeas’s voice roared over them. “Let’s visit this city under the stars, shall we?” Cheers and catcalls sounded, and lurching forward, the horses’ hooves pounded against the ground, the group moving forward in a gallop.

  He leaned forward and gripped with his legs as his mount shot forward, the powerful hooves pushing them faster. His heart was in his throat as he settled into the speed, leaving everything behind. Memphis’s mount pulled close to him, the two galloping together, their two spirits unleashed.

  “To your left.” Memphis’s voice was clipped as it bounced around his consciousness.

  He shot him a glance as Memphis nodded sharply where Professor Iasan was galloping, his black stallion frothing at his bit. The Professor looked sideways at them, his lips turning upward in a sickly sweet smile as if to say that out here, in the wild, they weren’t protected. Out here, they would be at his mercy. Baring his teeth in answer, he dared Iasan to try. If it came down to it, he wouldn’t falter. Not again.

  9

  Adair

  The excited voices around him felt dull and far away. Everyone was talking about the group of students that went to assist and bring Cesan back. Everyone was talking about what his father had done. Whispers chased at his heels, one word standing out from all the others. King. King. King. He rubbed his eyes, the heaviness of them making everything seem too bright, too fast. The world was charging forward, and he wanted to curl into himself and make it stop. Classes had been suspended until further notice, which meant to Adair, until Roque dealt with his father. His traitorous, lying father.

  Adair leaned against the cool wall, closing his eyes. Every moment he let his guard down, the voices were there, waiting for him. Follow us, follow your destiny. They curled around his mind, and in response, he slammed his iron walls up. What happened last night wasn’t real. He had stayed in the tunnel until he had willed his body toward the new light. Images of those creatures lurked behind his every waking moment, chasing him further and further into himself. He concentrated on his breath, easing himself back to the present.

  “Adair, what are you doing here?” His eyes flew open to see Emory, her face gaunt as she wrung her hands together. She wore her usual loose, black pants and leather boots but today was adorned by a velvet royal blue button-down jacket.

  Pushing himself off the wall, he said, “I assumed even though classes were cancelled, we would still get our training. Especially now that you are royalty. Despite... what has happened.”

  She released a breath, a slight tremor passing through her body. Stepping closer, her voice soft as if she was trying to coax a feral animal. “Adair, please try to understand. My dad met with me this morning after the group was dispatched. Things are moving fast. We are trying to reach Sarthaven’s communications to let them know what Cesan is trying to do. Things are in a precarious situation. My dad has decided to not recognize your family as part of his court anymore after yesterday.” She paused, biting her lip, her eyes wide, waiting for him to respond.

  Roaring had filled his senses as his heart tried to catch up with his mind. He took a step back, feeling unhinged as he snarled. “He is pushing us out then? Just like that? Like the years we have all put into this means nothing? That my family means nothing to him? To you?”

  Emory reached toward him, whispering, “Adair, no...”

  Ugly aggression raised its head within him, wanting to lash out. To destroy, to bleed darkness within all their hearts. It was madness. Complete and utter madness. “And you agree with him? That you, alone, will rule Kiero. That you, alone, are the rightful heir to the throne? No allies, no court? No one you trust by your side.”

  She threw her arms out, exasperated. “Adair, I will have a court.”

  He spat, cutting her off. “Just not one with me in it.”

  Her eyes begged forgiveness, but all he saw was the blade as she landed the killing blow. She croaked, “Yes.”

  A mad cackle broke from his lips as he ran a hand through his hair. The world had tipped, and he was freefalling. All the pieces he had been trying to hold together, for his future, for her, scattered into that void. There was only one thing that remained beneath all of that. His ability, which was born from fury and darkness. Brushing by her, his feet carried him, his entire body numb. Her pleas were lost in the hallway, his classmates looking between them. At her tension and his indifference.

  Within his grief, the voices cooed at him, trying to mend his shattered essence. Don’t you want more? The words sank their claws into his heart, and for a fraction, he opened himself to those voices. Those chilling, soothing voices that beckoned him. Because now he was just Adair Stratton of the Academy. He growled, his anger wild and encompassing. He refused to bow to them. The shift around him was subtle, the world carrying on like it always did. But to him, as he charged down the hallway, his world was quaking. His best friend, severing him for the power that was now handed to her.

  Until his parents returned, he had every inclination to reveal Roque’s skeletons to Emory. Over the years, he had caught snippets that Roque, generous, kind Roque, had interesting rumors kept sealed tight. Rumors only his parents had heard. He once, a couple years ago, had accidently slipped into their consciousness, and he hadn’t told anyone what he had found lurking there. Quickly swinging by his room, his purpose darkened. Throwing open the door, he grabbed his high-collared jacket and a bag which he stuffed a short blade, several history books, and a hidden supply of jerky. Zipping it closed, he swung the bag over his shoulder, looking at the empty room. He steeled his nerves and walked out.

  The door shut behind with a snap, and an arrogant voice sounded from behind him. “Going somewhere?”

  He twisted to find emerald eyes dancing as Marquis Maher leaned against the wall, arms crossed and a lazy smile splayed on his face.

  He snarled. “Go away.”

  Turning, he walked steadily down the hallway as Marquis jogged behind him. “Had enough of this stuffy place then?”

  Growling under his breath, he looked at the spots where the hidden cameras lay. His ability unfurled, its talons clicking themselves along the wiring, spreading like a disease until it reached its target. The surveillance team before the main doors collapsed at their desks, unconscious. Stalking by the room, a stony silence filled him as he looked at the bodies. They would wake up in a few hours, and who would piece together that he was gone? It would be too late at that point. He shifted the bag on his shoulder, turning to face an amused Marquis. He shook his head. “Look, I’m not joking. Leave me alone.” Throwing the doors to the Academy open, the empty courtyard splayed before him. Rushing down the steps he was desperately trying to escape the ghosts of what had happened here.

  “Well, that’s not very welcoming. We did travel a long way, you know.”

  Stalking up to the heir of the Shattered Isles, he drawled, “I do not care. Now leave me alone, or I will make you.”

  Marquis waggled his eyebrows. “I dare you to try.”

  His ability roared in response, exploding from him, rushing toward Marquis. Marquis smirked wickedly at his expression. His talons rushed forward, about to sink themselves into his flesh, his muscles, his nervous system. All he met was an iron wall. The wind howled around them, and Adair found himself encircled in a mini cyclone, his ability scattered to the winds.

  Sauntering up to him, the prince snapped his fingers and the cyclone dropped immediately. “Now, where are we going?”

  Adair was breathless, his words clipped. “How did you do that?”

  Marquis sported a lazy smile. “Because like yourself, I am gifted. Different. The sea bows to me, and I control it. But I can also block abilities if the occasion calls. Seeing as you were just about to try to either kill me or force me back, that is a perfect example of when I use it. Now since we are over that, what exactly are you planning?”

  Running a hand over his mouth, he was exasp
erated. It would draw too much attention to try to send him back. He could block abilities. This gangly, emerald-haired, pale, freckled teen was just as powerful as he was. If not more. He snarled. “If you slow me down or try to stop me, it won’t end well. I’m going to find answers.”

  The prince lit up. “That’s exactly what I was hoping you would say. Back in there, they have their futures paved out, you know. Their judgements made and their accusations ready. But you crave the truth. Crave the adventure it will bring. You’re not like them, and it’s easy to see. I find it quite refreshing.”

  He huffed, continuing to walk toward the woods. “Isn’t that a bad thing, though? My father will likely be killed, my family holding no title or status. My future here has come to a standstill.”

  Marquis slapped him on the back. “Then it is up to you to change the course. Seek what you want, not what others want for you.”

  He whispered, “I want the truth.”

  Marquis nodded. “Don’t we all?”

  He let his words sink in, suspicion clawing at him. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  Pulling at his jacket, Marquis replied, “Because the world is changing. Because I know what it is like to be forced into a life you don’t want. Take this situation as a gift, Adair. A gift not to be locked down in the politics of kings.”

  He picked up his pace, the wind gently tousling his hair. The afternoon was clear and crisp, the threat of autumn on the air. This had been his life, being groomed for court with Emory, with the Faes. He looked to the forest line, pausing for a moment. His answers, his truth, lay in the depths of those woods. At the heart, where an ancient magic lay dormant.

  He had always had a fascination for the history and mythology of Kiero. His father had battered against him for years, that it was a waste of time to always have a nose in a book, especially in riddles and myths. Except when myths became reality, mighty powers long forgotten. Creatures forced to the shadows until they were found. And he had found them. Pausing, he assessed Marquis. “This won’t be easy. Or safe.”

  The Prince of the Shattered Isles smiled slyly. “The best things never are.”

  Stepping into the forest, the coolness of the shade washed over him as he murmured, “Agreed.” He had always loved how as soon as he passed underneath the trees, it had seemed like he had stepped into another world. One consisting of weathered bark, mossy ground, and above all, mystery. Blinking hard, he clenched his hands as he heard them whispering on the wind, come find us, come find us, come find us. They pulled at his heart, at his betrayal, his pain. He forced the Academy behind him and allowed those alluring voices to pull him forward into the heart of the woods.

  Sweat rolled down his neck, and he rolled his eyes as the prince didn’t stop talking. Marquis quipped at his back the entire time as they navigated the denser part of the woods. The Shattered Isles had been painted vividly, each word stroking Marquis’s home into life before Adair’s eyes. Of a community that was wild and unkempt, strong and unyielding. One that was united despite its conflict. Marquis told him about cave exploration and how he could swim for hours, the ocean bending to his demands. Of the merpeople that dwelled in the darker parts of the Black Sea, and the monsters that took entire fleets down. Exhaling, the prince took him off guard as he lifted his eyebrow. “What I don’t understand is how the Faes have achieved such loyalty. What did they do?”

  He chewed his bottom lip as he hopped over a fallen tree trunk. He looked to Marquis. “They were the dreamers in a time when culture, creativity, and equality were being butchered. The Academy was the foundation of that dream, for desolates, for the people with weaker abilities. For everyone. The people of Kiero followed Roque because they can’t fear him, they can only admire him. How brave he was for standing up to his father, for breaking free of his reign to start out on his own.”

  Marquis chewed his lip. “It sounds like you have a different opinion of him.”

  He threw out his hands. “I was born at the Academy. Raised in the Academy. Who am I to doubt the intentions of the Faes? They are practically family.”

  Shrugging, Marquis cooed, “Sometimes it is the ones closest to us that betray us first.”

  A shiver ran down his spine as he looked at the shadows collecting around them. The trees towered far above them, their branches looking like veins, a lifeline. Adair. The whisper tugged at his core. His whole body shook with the recognition, with the knowing that they were getting close. He stopped, slipping his bag free from his shoulders. Choosing not to answer Marquis, he grabbed the thin leather book, flipping the weathered pages open quickly.

  The wind churned, making his skin prickle in anticipation. The Prince of the Shattered Isles stepped closer. “What is that?”

  “My offering.” He found the page he was looking for, the illustration of the trees bending, forming a doorway to where the mirror lay beyond. And the man bent before it. Before Marquis could react, he stood in one fluid motion, unsheathing the blade. Striking it across his forearm, the skin ripping, forming a deep gash. His blood welled and bubbled, looking a deep crimson in the fading daylight. Taking a steadying breath, he softly said, “I am here.”

  The world before them exploded into movement and a brilliant array of colors. He felt the ground shudder. The forest went silent. Light fractured, spilling and washing over them as everything spun into chaos. Looking over, he took in Marquis standing in awe. Blood trickled down Adair’s arm, dripping thickly onto the ground below them, which was smooth and golden now. An archway rose, intricate carvings of the forest bowing together; at the top, two gleaming red jewels stared down at them. A thick oak door was all that stood between them and the truth. The forest was long gone, and with his shaking bloodied hand, he reached forward to grab the smooth doorknob. The handle twisted and then released, the hinges creaking loudly as the door swung inward.

  Adair whispered to Marquis, “Follow me and please let me do the talking.”

  For once, the prince just nodded his head, at a loss for words. Their footsteps cracked like thunder as they passed under the archway and into a cavernous room. The floor glowed brilliantly, flowing into liquid silver on the four walls around them. It was quiet and empty, this place laying between reality and dreams. Like walking into a jewel being melded and molded into shape. He pulled his jacket closer around him, slinging his pack over his shoulder. Popping his collar out of habit, his hair standing on end. Marquis had frozen by the archway, in horror or fear, Adair couldn’t tell.

  His blood trailed behind him, flowing hot down his arm as he stared ahead, walking surely. A throaty laugh bounced off the walls, distorted, as smoke started to spill from the middle of the room, crawling toward them like grappling hands. It stopped right before his boots, rising like a fog.

  “Adair Stratton, you dare come see me again?” The voice tolled with ancient magic, of malice, of agony, of despair.

  An iron tang filled his mouth as he rasped, “I have come with my offering. Will you answer my questions?”

  That chuckle reverberated throughout the fog as one by one, the golden hues started to fade, the inky blackness rippling throughout the room.

  “Are you offering yourself or the Prince?”

  He sneered. “The Prince has nothing to do with this.”

  That throaty voice chuckled again, whispering, “Oh, I highly doubt that.”

  The room was dipped into full-fledged night, like a flame being blown out. His breath hitched in his throat as he twisted, trying to spot Marquis. He felt the slight shift of the floor and before he could react, he was falling through the fog, through time and space. He squeezed his eyes shut as the world roared around him. His heart dropped into his stomach, and he tried to not scream. The wind ripped at his jacket, at his hair, at his skin. The temperature dropped, ice crystals forming on his skin, his blood. Clamping his jaw so hard, he thought his teeth would shatter. His body flipped violently, his limbs flaying. He dared to look.

  Opening one eye, he soaked in
the scene. The sun hung low in the sky, bleeding into a sunset. At the same time, the full moon hung beside it, the remnants of night bleeding into the light. He fell through clouds, the ground below him speeding up to meet him. Too fast. He could see the snowy tops of mountains rushing up with their granite might. His scream ripped through him as his limbs flailed, trying to stop, trying to claw back up. The fog ripped the peaceful scene away, and he was slammed into it.

  Everything went dark in a sweeping instant. It was like diving into the ocean, being pulled down by the waves, your sense of self stripped from you. Hot blood filled his mouth as he bit through his tongue, as he tried to relax... as he was pulled down, slowly, shadows churning before him, whispers cutting through the fog. It was there that they were waiting for him.

  “Adair, you have come, you have come.”

  Trying to slow his breathing, he watched as a pulsing light exploded below him, its pale essence like a lone star in the sky, entrancing him and pulling him in. His body slammed into something solid, cracking hard against it. The night clung to the room around him, besides that sole light. With shaking limbs, he pushed himself up, standing slowly. He was in another room.

  If the one they had entered was the heart of light, then this was the sealing promise of obscurity. The promise of danger heavy on the air. The coolness of the room sent shivers raking through him. Orbs of dew clung to the roots hanging from the roof, the smell of the forest after a rain filling his senses. It was both calming and unnerving. He ran his hand through his hair as he took in the creature he sought. Spindly arms hugged his legs to his chest, his papery skin looking translucent. Adair could see each pronounced rib sticking out of his sides, each vertebra in his spine. His brown hair hung loosely, framing his sharp features. But it was his silver eyes that made Adair freeze. Those eyes, holding every promise, every secret. Those mysteries that pulled him forward, whispering, “Gortach, I hope the years have treated you well.”