Chapter 17
In the Fucking Void
“Soren!” I shouted and banged my fist on the door.
“Damn it, Soren! Let me out of here or so help me—”
When five more minutes of shouting and pounding had no effect, I stomped toward the bed and flopped down on top of the duvet with tears brimming once again.
I didn’t bother making sure I could breathe as the folds of fabric smothered my mouth and nose while I screamed into them.
The smothered sound was only for me now.
How the hell had I gotten myself into this mess?!
By plotting murder.
Yeah, that.
“And trusting the wrong people,” a voice hissed.
A chill snaked around behind my sternum.
True.
Why did I even think I could trust these strangers to begin with?
I shouted another groan into the blanket before rolling over to my back and staring up at the ceiling.
My breaths came harsh and slow. Each exhalation dragged me closer to the anger I’d clung to all these years.
“This tapestry tells the history of the battle for mankind’s soul.”
That’s what Salah had said right before Soren barged into the Upper Room, as Adriel had called it.
And according to that little demon, I was the cause of all that. I was the cause of that macabre devastation.
Then so be it.
I stayed there a long time, stewing in fury. Plotting deaths and revenge, something I had more experience in than decoding religious riddles.
Once I’d planned about thirty different ways to kill Soren and Adriel, I rolled off the bed out of sheer boredom.
The room looked more beautiful than it had that morning.
The details seemed to grow more intricate the longer I stared at them.
Whoever had painted the walls must have been an art genius.
Perhaps, they even had one of those Charisms. I swore one of the clownfish winked at me after a while.
The bathroom was even more in tune with the theme than the bedroom.
Shades of cerulean and turquoise glazed the tiled walls, each one shimmering like fish scales under the light of frosted jellyfish sconces.
A porcelain sink rested in the curve of a giant clam shell with purple fixtures shaped like seaweed tendrils.
The tub was built to resemble a coral basin, sea anemones carved along the rim, and pearl inlays catching the light like hidden treasure.
I ended up taking three baths that day just for the ocean-scented bubbles, keeping the water as hot as I could muster without burning my skin, until I came out a well-cooked lobster.
The closet had clothes my size, ranging from the athletic wear I preferred to mini-skirts and ball gowns I wouldn’t be caught dead in. The clothes pissed me off even more because that meant they had planned to kidnap me and hold me prisoner all along.
Didn’t even bother trying to fit my name on the door.
I changed outfits every time I got out of the bath. Might as well cause some trouble by dirtying their laundry while they’re holding me captive.
But eventually, I got bored with wasting their water and opted for exploring the desk that resembled the one I’d seen inside a replica of a captain’s quarters on a fifth-grade field trip.
Considering how we all looked down on the Ancients for their barbaric ways, Tower Citizens sure loved building museums about them for entertainment.
In the desk drawer, I found a notepad and a pencil. I brought them to the bed with me and plopped onto my stomach with my feet in the air. Then, in all-caps, I wrote across the cover: REVENGE.
I spent at least a few hours jotting down everything I’d learned since opening that stupid envelope.
I sketched diagrams, charts, timelines. I even made a list of possible outcomes over the next week, including: my death by boredom, Soren’s death by blood loss when I stabbed him forty-two times in his overly muscled chest, and the death of everyone in The Tower, as prophesied.
Even though I dedicated at least three pages each to plotting the deaths of Soren and Adriel, I filled most of the notebook with simple facts about The Way, the Guild of Sharona, and the Daughters of the Scepter.
With no windows in the room, I had no clue how much time passed or what time it was when I passed out with the pencil still in hand and the notebook sprawled beneath me. I also didn’t know how long I’d been asleep when I heard Veda’s voice near the foot of the bed.
“Elle, wake up. I’m breaking you out of here.”
It was barely above a whisper, just loud enough for me to recognize her voice before my eyes opened and adjusted to the light.
“Out of here?” I grumbled.
She shifted her weight, one knee sinking into the bed. Said knee was wrapped in tight leather, like the rest of her. She was dressed like some kind of secret agent ready to slice and dice, her hair pulled back in a tight French braid.
“Yeah,” she said louder now. I could hear the smile before I saw it. “You need some fresh air.”
That did it.
I bolted up, shoving myself off the mattress and prying my drool-stained face from the page of the notebook. The room was still bright because I’d left the light on, and Veda stood there with her ugly grin and muddy brown eyes twinkling down at me.
“Rise and shine, Valentine. I figured you might be bored in here, but I didn’t know you were writing a novel about us.”
Veda nodded toward the notebook, the page I’d been lying on bleeding with saliva and ink. That particular page bore a list of everyone I’d met so far associated with The Way, complete with honest descriptors.
Soren - needs to die; scary and mean; giant
Winifred - nice and good at cooking; Soren’s weakness
Veda - ugly scar but nice maybe
Adriel - uglier asshole
Zuri - nice; heals; young
Salah - WTF
I shook my head and slammed the notebook shut, which only revealed the title I’d given it and earned me another chuckle.
“I’m just trying to figure everything out,” I defended myself, “Which is hard to do while locked up in here and not being allowed to ask questions.”
Veda laughed and flopped onto the edge of the bed.
“Winifred came to invite you down for dinner earlier, but you were already asleep.” She nodded toward a foil-covered plate on the bedside table.
“Soren’s an ass, but he unlocked the door after thirty minutes.
Didn’t even need a lecture from any of us. He knew he had taken it too far today.”
“Oh,” I said quietly.
That meant I had spent hours locked in a room…that wasn’t locked.
Veda pulled the notebook closer to her and arched an eyebrow at the title. “You can ask me any question you want. I can’t answer all of them yet, but you can ask.”
I snatched the notebook back and frowned. If she hadn’t seen her descriptor earlier, I didn’t want her to now.
“I thought you said you were going to get me out of here.” I yawned and rubbed my eye with the back of my hand.
“I will. But not permanently. I’m just taking you for a walk.”
“Like a pet?”
Veda snorted. “Take it or leave it. I might be willing to defy Soren’s order for you to stay inside, but I’m not putting you in harm’s way. He’ll have no qualms about murdering me if you get hurt.”
“Why is he like that?”
“It’s his…job.” Veda half shrugged, half sighed. “He’s your Guardian by choice, and if that guy commits to something, there’s no stopping him.”
I reached for the notebook and pencil, but Veda snatched them out of my hand again. “Nuh-uh. You’re not writing any of this down and getting me in more trouble than I’m already in. Better just remember it.”
“Fine,” I huffed. “What does it even mean? That he’s my Guardian?”
Veda narrowed her eyes at me first, then glanced toward the door before leaning closer to speak quietly. “You can’t let him know I told you any of this. You’ll find it all out eventually, but he doesn’t want to overload you with all this, and then you try to bolt.”
I nodded, figuring she wouldn’t continue otherwise.
“All Daughters of the Scepter are given a Guardian to protect them. Usually, they’re chosen by lot from the Guild, but—” Veda rechecked the door before lowering her voice even more. “He chose you.” She held up a hand before I could speak. “Don’t ask me why, cause I’m not answering that one.”
I sighed.
“Okaaaay. Then what exactly does Soren expect me to do? And what about what Adriel said—about me being the cause of that whole death-and-destruction scene in the Upper Room?”
Veda drew in a long breath and blew it out through vibrating lips. “That’s two questions. Neither answer is particularly enlightening. I have something better.”
She shifted off the bed and stood. “I know you’re probably feeling overwhelmed with all this new information right now, so what I’m about to tell you is probably the whole hay bale on the camel’s back.
But! I can prove it. And it might make everything else easier to believe.
I mean, once you believe this, everything else will be a piece of cake. ”
Honestly, she was right. I was way beyond overwhelmed by all this new information. Numb to it, even.
What more could they possibly throw at me?
I gave a slight nod without hesitation.
“Sure. Shoot.”
Veda walked to the door, pressed her ear against it, then cracked it open and peeked out. She shut it softly and tiptoed toward me to crouch on the floor so that I had to look down at her.
“Everything they told you in The Tower about the history of humankind is a lie,” she whispered fast. “The Tower isn’t a spaceship floating through the Void.
It’s a prison. Built by the Dark One and evil men who cared more about power and wealth than their own souls.
The Twelve Clans built The Tower to keep us all in, not to keep the Void out.
Earth wasn’t destroyed. It’s still here. ”
I stared at her, waiting for a smirk, a wink, or anything that showed she was messing with me. But Veda just blinked up at me, her chest rising and falling under the tight leather top she’d squeezed herself into.