Chapter 2 #2
The people in my delusions believed they were real.
To this point, I’d done my best to accommodate them and ‘blend in,’ which had not gone well for me.
Three spots now ached dully across my lower back.
One for each disaster Miss Q put me through trying to save herself.
Should it be four? I guess it depended on whether I was getting them when I woke up in the new setting or at the end of it.
I’d just started number four, so maybe the end?
Bah. This was the wrong thing to be focusing on.
The old, pink-haired woman popped a hip and rested her thin, weathered hand on it, clearly expecting me to respond.
My first instinct was to be polite, but so far, my usual accommodating personality wasn’t doing anything. Bitter resentment bubbled up from memories of events that never happened, because all of this was a figment of my subconscious.
“Clearly.” I flattened my lips. “Where am I, and who are you?”
A bit of guilt at my tone twisted my stomach, and my heart raced.
A slow, almost bored smile tugged at the corners of her wrinkled mouth. “I am Chancellor Morgen. You’re in the Architect’s Castle now, though I doubt you’ll be thrilled to stay. Do you recall the test you failed to impress us with?”
I bit my bottom lip. I did. That ‘test’ was what spawned the dragon. So, this delusion was connected to the last. Based on the commonalities, all my delusions at least shared a theme, possibly a world.
“I remember falling off a three-story dragon and shattering both my legs.” I wiggled under the blankets. “But that doesn’t seem to be the case.”
The bright pink of Chancellor Morgen’s gaze took on a cold edge. “We healed them and the rest of your dying body.”
Right. ‘Magic.’ But, this delusion, being connected to the last one, was new. I wondered if that meant Doctor Oz was getting close to finishing.
“No gratitude? No curiosity?” Chancellor Morgen stepped toward me, her arms wide in mock welcome. “You were dying, and nearly took your healer with you. He’s out cold for weeks. Enjoy that.”
I wouldn’t. Even if my ‘healer’ didn’t exist, I hated hurting others. That pang of guilt pinched my stomach harder. This woman was getting meaner because I was being rude. The only person I could control was myself, and the truth was, I liked being a nice person.
“Ah, sorry.” I bit my lower lip and looked at the floor. The guilt eased. “Thank you.” I took a deep breath that didn’t wheeze and met her gaze. “Really, thank you. I’m sorry. I’m trying to understand what’s, ah, going on.”
Chancellor Morgen pursed her lips. “Where are you from?”
“Um, north, I think?” I answered. “At least I’ve been walking south, so that makes sense, right?”
The woman gave me a puzzled look. “Do you have a family?”
“Oh, I know this one.” I smiled. Of the last three times I woke up, it had been the first question for all of them. “No.”
I hadn’t gotten a great grasp on the politics here, probably because this string of delusions was limited by Miss Q’s imagination, aka my own, but instead of towns and cities, the world was broken up into families.
Two of them had tried to ‘bring me in’ to their fold.
My lower back ached, but I refused to dwell on those nightmares.
Silence stretched between us.
Chancellor Morgen scowled. “Bursting with information, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. I didn’t know shit.
She bristled, her eyes narrowing. “You’ve been accepted into our family, for now.
Unlike most families, we’re not bound by blood.
We’re bound by our goals.” She leaned in, her gaze unflinching.
“There are no slaves here. No power chains. Our goal is equality. For everyone, regardless of sex or magical prowess.”
I put my hands up in the air. “I agree with all of that.”
The sheet slipped down, exposing my bare chest. I flushed and quickly pulled it back up.
She leaned back, her expression unfazed. “You’ll work and train. Hard. In ten weeks, we will reassess. Or”—she crossed her arms again—“you can leave. Immediately.” Her right hand darkened, the fingers twisting before they elongated into bark-covered claws, each tip as sharp as needles.
I dragged my gaze away from her ‘fingers.’ Magic. She was pure magic. My heart raced; a combination of fear and adrenaline filled my limbs, but not terror. After all, none of this was real.
“The last three times I woke, no one gave me a choice.” I met her pink eyes.
“Men, my own fucking mind, tricked me. Manipulated me. Forced me into bad situations.” I pushed away the memories.
None of that had happened. This was all my subconscious.
My physical body lay on an operating table.
“You might be trying to scare me, but you’re not a monster.
Or at least, not one I need to worry about.
” I nodded. “I’ll train and work. It’s better than stumbling around in the wilderness and starving. ”
Chancellor Morgen grinned with too-white teeth. She inclined her head, and her hand shrank back to size. My heart rate slowed.
If the pattern held, I’d black out in a few days anyway. What was the worst that could happen?
Crazy came in waves. One minute I was okay, and the next, I was shoving everything I could into a pocket only I could see, including stuff I might not have owned in the first place.
Fortunately, Miss Q remembered everything inside my imaginary pocket, which tracked. Made-up delusions. Made-up pocket. Even though it wasn’t real, on some level, having access to all this stuff made me feel better about all the trouble I’d gotten into acquiring it.
After dressing, I followed Chancellor Morgen through a network of passages and up a flight of stairs to emerge into a fog-filled courtyard.
The damp cold sent a chill down my back.
I reached into my pocket-void, adding a scarf, beanie, and worn leather jacket to go over my bumblebee-yellow hoodie and jeans. Hat in place, I tugged the hood up too.
The chancellor’s gaze skimmed my clothes, her annoyance at my refusing the black robe obvious.
“I’ll not presume to tell you how to act, but the vast majority of our trainees are men,” she said as if that should be obvious.
“Most women come with their brothers. Especially powerful ones. People will see what they want to see.” She waved her middle finger, completely normal in appearance, but definitely not normal, back and forth.
“Since you have no brother to hide behind, I suggest you dress androgynously, play the role of a man.” Her gaze gleamed with amusement.
“Though, I do relish a bit of drama. It’s in short supply on the surface. ”
I blinked at her.
She smiled. “This way.”
We took two steps into the dreary world before something slimy brushed against my cheek, and the sickly smell of too many roses filled the air.
I jumped to the side, bumping into the old woman.
She grabbed my arm to steady me and froze, her nostrils flaring.
A frustrated hiss escaped her lips, and she tugged me until I faced her.
“I have to deal with something,” she said as her gaze shifted in the same direction as the slime. “Hope’s office is around the coliseum.” She pointed along a curved, dark stone wall. “Past a building shaped like a T. Her office is the only one made of wood. You can’t miss it.”
She released me and stepped away.
Sudden fear gripped my heart. “Wait!”
She turned back to me; her gaze shifting into something softer.
“Men will not harm you here.” She clenched a single fist, and a subtle tremor passed through her thin shoulders.
“You should be safe. The body snatchers can’t infiltrate our walls, and the other families have no influence. .. at least over us.”
Another whiff of slimy roses made me sneeze. The old chancellor sniffed the air again before scowling. She walked quickly, if stiffly, away from me. The bright pink of her hair vanished into the fog.
“Should be safe?” I called after her, shifting with unease. “What’s a body snatcher?”
She didn’t stop to answer me as the thickening haze distorting the world swallowed my voice.
With a pounding heart, I followed her directions one step at a time.
Slowly, the building, shaped like a T, emerged from the fog.
The sounds of laughter spilled from glowing light-purple windows.
The doors opened, almost smacking me in the face.
A group of men, unsteady on their feet, spilled into the gray.
I watched their dull, uniform-clad bodies disappear around the corner before shuffling past the doors, looking for a wood building in the fog. A pair of glowing white eyes met mine. I screamed, lunging backward so hard I rammed my back into the wall.
A man clad in black leather materialized out of the fog.
“Right.” His low voice rumbled through me. “You must be the dragon trainee.”
The short-haired version of Henry Cavill grinned at me.
Tall and ripped with the same five o’clock shadow kissing his square jaw from the Witcher, he leaned against the wall on my left with one foot flat against it.
Despite the cool air, his body heat licked my side, along with the scent of heather and honey.
I clutched my chest, though now it raced for an entirely different reason.
His silver-white eyes glowed, matching his cropped and spiked hair. He gave me a friendly once-over. My face remained buried in my hood, and I prayed he couldn’t see my flushed cheeks.
I took a few breaths. This was still Miss Q. This man didn’t exist. So, I guess checking him out didn’t exist either. Maybe I’d been viewing all this wrong. Instead of averting my gaze, I gave him a slower, longer look, which might not have been exactly socially acceptable.