Ch. 5 - The Safehouse

“By the stars,” Jessica whispered, somewhere to Benji’s left.

“What? What is it?” Benji asked, swiveling his head as if trying to see through his blindfold.

“What happened here?” Andrew wondered aloud, his voice wavering.

Benji pleaded, “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”

“Andy,” Jessica gasped out, shocked by the sight before her. “Great stars – Melody!”

The captive heard the sound of wood scraping against wood. Two hands pushed against his shoulders, shoving him roughly into a hard chair. A scratchy rope wound its way around his body, suffocating him and securing him tightly to the back of the chair. The blindfold was yanked away from his face, and he blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the shady light. The sight he saw before him was one he wished he hadn't seen.

Broken chairs. Crumbling bricks. Shattered glass. Shredded wall hangings. Bloodstained walls. Overturned tables. Doors hanging off their hinges. Furniture, flipped over or ruined. Scattered plates. Lumped and crumpled masses of cloth and flesh visible poking out from behind broken furniture.

Jessica was crouched next to an arm sticking out from behind an overturned table. Her stomach twisted as she recognized the body the arm was connected to. The woman’s blonde hair had fallen over her face, concealing her wide open eyes that had stopped seeing. Her dress was stained sickeningly with blood, and as Jessica touched her friend’s skin, it sent a shock through her because of its icy temperature. Jessica swallowed and pulled the blonde mass of hair away from the woman’s face. Her features were not unpleasant to look at, but they were so hidden by bruises and blood that they went unnoticed as Jessica gently closed her friend’s blind eyes. She felt sorrow rising inside her like a flood, but she closed her eyes and took a deep breath until her emotions were in check. Now was not the time for weakness.

Andrew’s voice crept into her thoughts. “Max is dead.” The fact hit Jessica and then bounced off the numb shell she was building around her heart. She licked her lips, stood up shakily, and inspected another body nearby. It was in a sitting position, with its back resting against a wall as if asleep or waiting for someone to wake it up. But it wasn’t asleep. Jessica knelt beside the young man and inspected the spear sticking out of his stomach, pinning him to the wall where he had fallen. It stretched out several feet, and the blood that had dripped out of the wound had soaked through his wool shirt. Jessica sighed and examined his head, which had lolled to one side. She gently reached out a hand and brushed his shaggy hair away from his forehead.
He gasped, and two bright blue eyes locked onto her face, sending a burst of chill and then heat rushing through her veins. “Jacob’s alive!” she gasped out, hoping Andrew would hear. Jessica’s heart pounded inside her chest, startled and now very anxious.

“Jess,” the man whispered, his eyes never leaving her face. She clasped his bloody hand encouragingly, and with a nauseated feeling realized why it almost slipped out of her grasp.

“What happened here?” Jessica asked, her voice hardly a whisper. She became aware of Andrew kneeling beside her.

Jacob moved his lips as if trying to say something. He closed his eyes, making a tense expression before murmuring in a low voice, “Soldiers. Guards. Searching for something.”

Andrew’s keen eyes examined the man’s painful face and asked, “Where are Brooke and the Dane? I don’t see them among the dead.”

Jacob’s piercing eyes flashed open again and bored into Andrew. “Council meeting. Darwol. North Tower. There was a-” His breath caught in his throat, and he coughed for a few minutes. Slowly, he continued, “A messenger last night. Came to say they needed him there. They caught a creature. Some kind of dark--” He coughed again, but this time the sound was grating and forced, like something was trying to come up his throat. He laid his head back against the wall for a moment, a tiny gurgling noise emitting from his throat. And then he was still, just like he had been when Jessica first found him. His hand slid out of Jessica’s and hit the floor with a soft thud.
She swallowed and leaned forward, gently closing his open eyes with her fingers. She turned to gaze past Andrew, a lump in her throat. “Do you know where Darwol is?”

“No idea,” Andrew said sullenly. A heavy feeling settled over the room like dust, and Jessica and Andrew refused to move from beside their dead friend, each thinking hopeless thoughts.

“Well…” Benji broke the silence in his annoying, matter-of-fact tone, “This changes things a bit.” Both of the teenagers on the floor glanced up at him, as if suddenly remembering he was there. Anger flickered across Andrew’s face. Jessica stared at Benji, but her expression was unreadable.

Andrew was up on his feet. “This whole thing is his fault,” he accused, his anxious fingers already fumbling to find a weapon. “The soldiers were coming for him! If we had killed him when we had the chance, this never would have happened!” He began pushing tables and chairs out of his way, moving in a determined manner toward Benji. “Time to finish what should have been done a long time ago.”

“Andy, wait—” Jessica started, but Andrew was already mere feet away from the prince.

Benji eyed the weapon and its beholder with a calm countenance, nothing in his face betraying any kind of fear whatsoever. It unnerved Jessica, but it didn’t stop Andrew from driving his blade through his chest with an echoing shout. For a moment, shock froze Jessica, and she was helplessly staring at the form tied to the chair as its head flopped forward and its chest stopped pulsating. Andrew’s face was red, and he jerked the knife out of the boy with a hateful expression.

Jessica’s mouth was open wide, and it took her a moment to realize she probably looked like an idiot. “By the stars, Andy,” she muttered, trying to get a handle on her emotions. “What’s wrong with you?”

Andrew pointed at the dead body accusingly. “It’s his fault the city is dead! The soldiers must’ve been looking for him! Why else would they kill everyone?”

Jessica’s hands gripped the sides of her head, winding themselves through the roots of her hair. “Andy…you anger problem-”

Andrew wasn’t listening. “This whole thing doesn’t make sense…why kill everyone in the town? Under whose authority are they acting?”

“The king’s, no doubt,” came a voice from behind them. They turned sharply to behold Benji sitting straight up in his chair, staring at them calmly, just as he had been a few seconds ago. A hint of amusement flickered in his eye.

“But…you’re—” Jessica stared to say, surprise making her eyes widen involuntarily. “Dead…”

“Impossible,” Benji claimed. “Could a dead person juggle three flaming balls while balancing on top of a horse?” His brow furrowed. “Actually, that’s a bit hard for alive people to do, come to think of it…”

“How is this possible?” Jessica whispered, taking a hesitant step back.

Benji started in a sincere tone, “Oh, well, I’ve heard that they wear fire-proof gloves-”

“You’re alive…” Jessica stated, not believing her eyes.

“Oh, right, that…” Benji’s eyes rotated upward, as if calculating something in his head. He looked at Jessica the way a best friend would look at someone before confiding in him their greatest secret. “What do you know of magic?” A feeling seized Jessica at that moment that she couldn’t quite describe. It was like wanting to laugh and throw up at the same time.