Ambrosia Shore (11 page)

“I can’t tell you exactly how things happened at the border that day,” I said, my hands clamping into nervous fists at my sides. “I was unconscious at the time. But I was outside the Threshold border because…” I had to stop and take a deep breath. “…because that’s where I live. I was born there.”

A few of the Council members finally stirred in their seats.

“Ms. James, if I’m hearing you correctly, you’re claiming not to have been born on Ambrosia at all, but outside the walls of the Threshold completely?”

“Yes,” I stated fervently. “I was born in Newport Beach, California. This is the first time I’ve ever been to Banya in my life. I had no idea it even existed until now.”

A low hum of mumbling spread through the front of the room as the men above me sent questioning glances back and forth.

Before the councilman could ask another question, I continued to speak, holding up my wrist for all to see. “I was born with this mark on my wrist, but I had no idea what it was for. It had always remained dark until just a few months ago.”

“What about your parents?” Councilman Thompson asked.

“My mother’s name is Leena James. She was also born in California, to my grandparents, Russell and Eleanor James. But none of them were born with the mark like I was.”

“And your father?”

I knew this question would be next. I closed my eyes for only a second, almost wanting to blurt out everything right then and there, just to get it out in the open.
Yes, I know who my father is. This whole thing is probably all his fault. Rayne shouldn’t be the one on trial here; it should be him, the Ambassador.

But I couldn’t do that. For so many different reasons, I just couldn’t do that.

“I don’t know my father,” I answered solemnly. “I’ve never spoken to him. He disappeared before I was born.”

As the words spilled away from my mouth, my mind jumped back to the day when I’d seen my father for the very first time, for the only time. I realized that the statement I had just made was completely true. Even though I had seen my father and had recently been told who he was, I did not know him. I was never given a chance to speak to him, not even once. And now, I wanted more than anything to meet him face to face and ask him for some answers.

I glanced up when one of the councilmen in the middle row held up his hand and waved a small piece of paper from his seat. A woman, who had been taking notes at a table in the corner of the room, hurried up the stairs to retrieve the paper, then took it down to Councilman Thompson in chair two.

When he read the note, Councilman Thompson’s expression shifted, as if suddenly remembering that the purpose of this meeting was to determine Rayne’s fate, not my own. “Ms. James,” he began again, setting down the note, “your story is indeed fascinating, and something we would surely like to revisit in the future. However, at this time, the Council would like you to explain how you came to know Mr. Stevens through all this.”

I nodded quietly, acknowledging his request, knowing that there was absolutely no way I was going to tell any of them how I really met Rayne. My cheeks filled with heat as I tried to remember the words I had rehearsed for this the entire night before.

“Um, basically,” I began, “my mother was dating a man who accidentally got involved with some bad people…people who have a mark on their wrist like I do. They told him they had some kind of miracle cure they wanted him to test on his patients. My mom’s boyfriend, Mark, was a doctor. But not anymore. They…they…” My lower lip suddenly started to shake.

A memory of Dr. Jensen’s battered face flashed through my mind, the way his eyes went blank when Voss’s bullet tore through his body. I couldn’t contain my emotions. My trembling voice struggled to speak. “They killed him… right in front of our eyes. Somehow in all the commotion I ended up getting shot in the chest. I was sure I was going to die. But Rayne… Rayne was there to save me. After that, everything became a blur until I woke up at the Sacred Pool, but whatever Rayne did that day, whatever rules he might have broken, I know he did it with good intentions. I know his heart was in the right place. I swear, I may not be from here, but I am not a threat to the security of your people, or Ambrosia. Rayne wasn’t trying to smuggle a spy or a criminal into your city; he was just trying to do the right thing, to save a human life. You can do whatever you need to do to confirm my story. Come to my house, verify my school records, whatever you need to do. Just please don’t punish Rayne for helping me survive.”

“Ms. James, just to clarify, you stated that the people who shot you and your mother’s boyfriend had a mark on their wrists like yours? Do you have any information as to who these people were?”

I wondered if I told the Council that I knew exactly who they were—Ash and Voss Hastings—if they would become suspicious of me knowing too much. I decided to play it safe and hold back a little.

“There were two men,” I answered. “One much older, one closer to my age; and they both had a similar mark.”

“If you were shown a series of photographs,” Councilman Thompson asked, “do you think you would be able to identify these men?”

“Uh, yes, sir,” I said, hesitating. It wasn’t that I questioned my ability to do what he asked, I just suddenly realized that I might be getting myself involved in much more than I had planned. But it was too late to take it back now, and if I could help bring some justice down on the Hastings for all the terrible things they had done, then in the end, it could be worth it.

“We’ll revisit this topic later,” the councilman said. “I’d like to return to the subject of Mr. Stevens. Ms. James, do you happen to know why he did not report you at the border as he was instructed?”

I swallowed. “The mark on my wrist was malfunctioning. My body wasn’t healing, so he had to find a way to get a stronger dose of Healing Water in my system.”

“But you were unconscious at the time, correct?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“So, you are recounting information Mr. Stevens told you, rather than speaking from your own experience?”

My hands gripped the edges of the podium. “No, I mean, just during the time that I was unconscious, but the rest of it was my own experience.”

Councilman Thompson’s tone remained steady. “If your Watermark was malfunctioning as you state, perhaps this could explain why Mr. Stevens did not report you when he first came through the border, but once your livelihood had returned at the Sacred Pool, why did he not report you then? Where did he take you?”

My palms started filling with heat, my words getting weaker. “Um, I guess he…took me to his house to rest and get something to eat. It was getting late, and we were tired…”

“Ms. James, are you aware that Mr. Stevens holds a high-ranking position as an agent in our organization?”

“Um, I don’t know. I guess. I’m not really familiar with the ranking system of your organization.”

“Well, believe me when I tell you, Rayne Stevens has a full and complete understanding of what is expected of him here, and we have strict protocols that are vitally important to the survival of our people. Furthermore, bringing someone to Ambrosia from Earth is strictly forbidden, whether a person is in danger or not, whether they are a trained assassin or an innocent child. Do you understand that by bringing you here, Rayne Stevens has not only broken some serious laws, but he has betrayed his oath as a Water Keeper?”

A surge of frustration pulsed through me. “But, I have the mark of your people on my wrist,” I protested. “Rayne wasn’t bringing someone from Earth to Ambrosia; he was saving one of his own kind. One of your kind. Don’t you see? He wasn’t trying to smuggle me in; he was just trying to bring me home…” I felt a strange sensation, surprising even myself as the words flowed out of my mouth, like the world around me was spinning in slow motion, a quiet voice whispering to my mind through the chaos.
He was bringing you home.

Councilman Thompson stood abruptly from his chair, causing me to flinch. “Thank you for your testimony, Ms. James. The guards will now escort you out of the courtroom.”

And just like that, my session was over. The next thing I knew, the guard was beside me, herding me away from the stand. I nodded in a stupor, trying to comprehend what had just happened, wondering if I made any impact at all, as the guard ushered me silently from the room.

After the guard led me away from the courtroom, he took me back to the same small waiting room where I had spent a large part of the morning fretting over my worries. I was hoping never to step foot in this room ever again, but apparently I would have to endure it a little longer.

“The Council has asked that you remain here for the time being,” the guard said. “It’s possible they may call you back to the witness stand shortly.”

I watched after him as he disappeared to stand outside the door. Would I have to go through the same painful process all over again? Why couldn’t my father just show up to make this all go away?

I waited at least thirty dragging minutes before the door opened again. Instead of the guard, it was Tessa’s face that appeared through the opening.

“It could be a little longer,” she said, carrying a tray in from the hall. “So I asked permission to bring you something to eat.”

I looked up appreciatively from my chair. “Thank you.”

Tessa set the tray down on the table and took the seat next to me. “How did it go?” she asked thoughtfully.

I shook my head. “I don’t really know.”

She offered an encouraging glance. “The Council is very wise, and they are known to show a great deal of compassion. Whatever they decide, I’m sure it will end up fairly for everyone involved.”

I pushed out half a smile. “I hope you’re right.”

Tessa stood and reached back to her tray. “In the meantime, I thought you might like something to read to help ease the wait.” She handed me a small stack of magazines.

“Thanks,” I said.

She nodded. “I’m sure someone will be back to give you further directions soon.” Then she left me alone again.

Even with the nerves still constricting in my stomach, I finally felt hungry. After such a draining morning, I could really use some extra energy. If anything, it was a relief just to have something to do. I took my time with each bite of what appeared to be some kind of chicken sandwich and a bowl of cheesy vegetable soup. Being on an entirely different planet, I kept expecting someone to serve me something completely outrageous and new, but aside from a few unfamiliar vegetables in the soup, and an unusual green dressing on the sandwich, my lunch seemed strangely similar to something I would eat back at home.

After I finished eating, I sat back in my chair—which at this point I was extremely glad had a cushioned seat—and starting rummaging through the magazines Tessa had left for me on the table. I stopped suddenly when a familiar face caught my eye. Jax’s face was on one of the covers. I chuckled at the sight, almost wanting to roll my eyes as I remembered Jax’s shock the day before when I mentioned I’d never heard of Vigor Magazine.

My eyes couldn’t help but linger and study the image for a moment. Jax’s expression was sultry and wistful, looking off in the distance like an experienced model. Yet something about it felt wrong. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I didn’t even think I liked the photo. The showy green jacket lined with fur barely covered Jax’s bare chest, and his neck was wrapped in some kind of broad, brown leather necklace, laced together to form a lattice pattern. He looked sadly beautiful, like a statue, a work of art. Everything about the image was perfect; the way his golden skin was kissed by the light, his blond hair sculpted flawlessly above his head. But it wasn’t Jax. It was the symbol of Banya his people had made him out to be.

I was sure there was a part of him that loved the attention, thrived on it even, but I could see the loneliness growing in his eyes, right on the glossy cover of the magazine.

As I went on and flipped open the pages, I glanced through several advertisements full of beautiful people, fast cars, expensive fragrances, and articles featuring musicians, entertainers, and fancy restaurants—basically, everything I would expect to see in any typical magazine. But when I was halfway through the pages, another familiar face immediately caught my attention.

This time it was Rayne’s face that appeared across the page. It was a candid shot, one he probably wasn’t even aware of. It looked like he was walking down a city street, alone, glancing back over his shoulder. A short article, only a couple paragraphs long, was printed below the image with the title
Agent Rayne: Man of Action, or Missing in Action?

The article referenced back to an issue from a few months prior where Rayne had been featured on the cover with a photo of the Ambassador, my father, proudly by his side. It then went on to speculate all the reasons why no one had been able to steal more than a glance of the well-known hero since he single-handedly took down Ambrosia’s most feared criminal, Voss Hastings. Was he off on some top-secret mission, or was he simply lying low to stay out of the spotlight?

I wondered what the people of Banya would think if they knew that the real reason for Rayne’s absence was me. Well, at least in the beginning. Now it was due to the Council secretly holding him prisoner for all the wrong reasons.

The more I looked at the different magazines, the more I realized just how glamorized all the Scouts and Water Keepers and even Backers were made to appear in Banyan culture. On Earth these Agents were nothing but shadows, hiding in plain sight without ever getting noticed, but on Ambrosia…they were practically celebrities.

I couldn’t believe Rayne’s face was on the cover of a magazine only a few months prior, being hailed as a hero, and now, he was on trial, being treated like a criminal.

Finally, the waiting room door opened again, and the same guard who had been ushering me around the building all day stepped into the room. “There has been a delay in the hearing,” he announced. “The Council requests that you be returned to your room until further notice. Please follow me.” He turned on his heel and marched out to the hallway.

A delay?
I shot out of the chair. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

I grabbed the pile of magazines to carry with me, following quickly behind the first guard as a second one moved to my back, ensuring I didn’t take a single step out of place. I knew Rayne was the one on trial here, but I was beginning to feel like a prisoner myself. For all I knew, after all the things I had confessed about myself to the Council earlier that day, I could be the next person to be judged in their courtroom.

The guards took me back to the same room where I had stayed the night before and secured the door behind me. I was so mentally exhausted from all the worrying about Rayne, the lack of sleep from the night before, the endless waiting without getting any answers, that as soon as I could pull off my dress, I crashed onto the bed and fell quickly to sleep.

***

Tap, tap, tap. My eyelids peeled open. For a moment, I almost thought I was in my own room again. My eyes focused, centering across the space, wishing to see my grandmother’s vanity, or photos of me with Heather and my school friends, with my mom, and with Rayne, taped up in a collage on the closet door. But I was still here, still sitting in a lonely velvet room at the Court of Ambassadors, missing Rayne, missing my mom, missing my old life a billion light years away.

Thump, thump, thump. The knock on the door grew louder. “Ms. James?” came a voice through the door. “Councilman Orion Bennett is here to speak to you.”

“Just a minute,” I called back. I scurried to the bathroom to throw on my clothes from the day before, only to find that they were missing. There was a long silky robe hanging from the back of the door. I slipped it on quickly, cinched the tie around my waist, and hurried back to the entryway.

“Sorry,” I said as I pulled open the knob. “I must have fallen asleep.”

Councilman Bennett smiled patiently. “Not a problem, Ms. James. Would it be all right if I came in?” I glanced behind him in the hall, noticing Agent Duke and his partner, back in their dark suits, the official court guards from earlier no longer in sight.

I nodded, my arms fidgeting with the folds in my robe, fighting off the feelings of being vulnerable and exposed.

The councilman sat at the table and motioned to the chair next to him. “Please, sit,” he said. “I’m afraid we have a lot to discuss.”

A new lump formed in my throat as I took my seat, but in a way, I was glad to see him. Maybe there would be some answers. And it seemed a much easier thing to bear a single, possibly friendly face, rather than a towering room full of overwhelming, unreadable ones. Still, the fearful anticipation moved through me.

“Is Rayne going to be okay?” I asked. “Did I help his case, at all?”

Councilman Bennett gazed unflinchingly into my eyes. “Sadie, your testimony has made an invaluable contribution to Rayne’s defense. I would not have advised you to do anything differently.”

My eyes closed with a pause of hope. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” he smiled. “Now, I don’t want to fill your heart with false optimism. The Council has not come to a decision regarding Rayne as of yet. But before you came to the stand his future looked grim, and now there is undeniably hope. The Council has decided to take more time to consider all the evidence in Rayne’s favor.”

“So, what happens now?” I asked.

“Well,” he said, shifting in his chair, “now you have a decision to make.”

I listened intently.

“Sadie, it should come as no surprise that the Council is somewhat concerned about the validity of your story. I’ve lived for over a century now, and I have never come across anyone with a situation quite like yours. And, I must say, you certainly tried to hide it well, but it did not escape my notice that you seem to have an emotional attachment to Mr. Stevens. I would be lying if I said the Council wasn’t equally aware. There’s some concern that this factor could be influencing you to embellish or even overlook essential details regarding Rayne’s motives.”

I looked down at my lap and shook my head. “But he saved my life. Of course I feel—” I looked up suddenly when the councilman’s palm touched my hand.

“You don’t need to explain anything to me,” he said warmly. “I believe I understand.”

I stared up at him wordlessly. What exactly did he think he understood?

Councilman Bennett slid back his hand and continued. “However, despite my own personal feelings on the subject, the Council as a whole functions through a majority vote, and as such has determined that further investigation into the matter is necessary.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means you are now officially under investigation.”

My hands began to quiver in my lap. I tried to remind myself that I always knew this was a possibility, the moment I walked into that courtroom.

“As Head of Security over all Ambrosia,” he said, “I have successfully petitioned the Council to appoint me as the director of this investigation.”

I looked up. “So, you’re going to…investigate me?”

Councilman Bennett opened a folder sitting in front of him on the table and slid a stapled set of papers toward me. “A full scan of your identity has already been run through our channels in the United States, verifying the existence of someone with your name and family relations located within the vicinity of your claimed city of residence.”

I skimmed over the report, a little unnerved to see the details of my life neatly printed off in black and white like a checklist for them to cross off a list.

“That’s a good thing, right?” I said. “This is proof that I’ve been telling the truth.”

He reached over the table to retrieve the report. “It’s certainly a good start,” he said. “Of course, documents and records of this sort can be falsified quite easily if you have the right connections or training, as someone like one of our top agents would, like Mr. Stevens for example.”

I scoffed. “They think Rayne made up a fake identity for me? Why would he need to do something like that?”

The councilman held up his hand in explanation. “It’s not that the Council thinks he has in fact done this; they just need to consider it as a possibility.”

I shook my head. “So, what else do they want you to do then? Is there some way to prove that the documents are real?”

“In a case like this, the Council feels the best way to get to the heart of the matter is to go directly to the source; observe and assess the situation with our own two eyes, so to speak.”

“I don’t know if I quite understand.”

Councilman Bennett leaned forward in his seat. “I’m going to travel to California to verify your story, and I have swayed their support in favor of allowing you to come with me.”

I suddenly forgot to breathe. “Wait, you mean…they’re letting me go home?”

“Unfortunately,” he said, squinting his eyes, “it’s a little more complicated than that. There would need to be several extra security measures put in place in order for them to allow you back through the Threshold border.”

“What kind of security measures?” I asked.

“Well, I would be your primary escort, but there would be a team of…guardians, assigned to follow you at all times.”

I had guards following me around for the last twenty-four hours, so I figured I could endure the inconvenience a little longer if it meant helping clear Rayne’s name.

“Okay,” I said. “I can handle that.”