On the Meldon Plain (The Fourline Trilogy Book 2) (4 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

“You’re kidding me,” Nat said to herself and banged her head against the doorframe. A “Closed” sign hung above a handwritten note on the glass-paned door of the costume shop. “Closed for the season, please contact Barba Gate for inquiries at . . .” An illegible phone number followed.

Desiccated leaves clustered around the door. She peered through the dirty windows. The shop was dark. A zombie dummy she’d dressed in the window when she’d worked in the costume shop in October lay in pieces on the floor. Her eyes lingered on the broken bits of the mannequin, wishing she’d known then what she knew now.
If I’d been honest with Soris, he would’ve known I couldn’t protect him from the Nala.

She walked past the building’s stucco front, determined to find Barba. She turned the corner of the adjoining warehouse to find the secure door Estos had brought her through so many months ago. Andris’ beat-up truck was parked next to it. Muddy snow covered the broken tailgate.

She brushed a leaf off the intercom panel next to the metal entrance and pressed a button. “Sister Barba? Professor Gate?” She paused and glanced at the cab of the truck, half expecting to see Andris glaring back at her. “Um, it’s Nat, I need to—” The lock clicked open. She hesitated, then grabbed the handle and opened the door.

Her boots clanked against the metal stairs. She leaned against the railing when she reached the walkway overlooking the interior forest, greenhouse, and practice arena that took up most of the warehouse. The blue training dummies still hung from the ceiling, interspersed among the trees. She picked up a small rock jammed into a walkway grate and tossed it at one of the suspended figures. The rock missed its mark and tumbled through the thick pine branches.

Other than the familiar, continuous hum from the greenhouse fans, the warehouse was eerily quiet. She passed through an open door at the end of the walkway. Her steps down the stairs into the kitchen rang out. A single cup sat on the wooden kitchen table. She breathed in, smelling the dried herbs hanging from the ceiling racks, and tried to settle her nerves.

Silence greeted her when she poked her head into the hallway leading to Ethet’s laboratory. It was dim, but a ray of light shone underneath the doors of the lab. She stumbled on the worn carpet and cursed under her breath before pushing open one of the doors.

“Hello, Natalie.” Barba lifted a beaker of boiling water from a Bunsen burner and smiled. Nat took a seat on a familiar bench and watched Barba pour the water into two coffee cups. The table where Soris had lain after she’d brought him through the membrane was directly across from her. She looked away and found herself staring into the dark mouth of the tunnel leading to Fourline. She removed her jacket and cleared her throat.

“Here,” Barba said. She handed Nat one of the cups. Steam curled around her face.

“Smells familiar,” Nat said, glancing at the array of vials and bottles lining the shelves behind Barba.
Did Ethet leave anything that will heal my wound or help me sleep through the night?
she wondered.

“Meldon tea, common beverage for Sisters,” Barba said, interrupting her thoughts. “You had several cups before you returned to Fourline.”

Common for Sisters, but not me,
Nat thought and placed her cup on the bench, in the void between her and the Sister.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’ve finally come back here. I understand why you left us so quickly after you returned with Soris.” Barba’s intelligent eyes softened into a sympathetic look. “I suppose you’re now wondering why your markings never faded?”

“Barba,” Nat interrupted. Being in the room with the tunnel to Fourline had only increased her anxiety, and Barba’s preoccupation with her markings put her on edge. “I didn’t come to discuss my markings. I’m having some problems.” Her eyes flickered toward the tunnel entrance.

“What kind of problems?” Barba adjusted her glasses.

“Sleeping, for one. I can’t sleep without dreaming of Soris and the Nala that bit him, the one I killed.”

“You killed a Nala?” Barba sat upright.

“Didn’t Soris tell you?”

“Natalie, Soris had very little memory of what happened after the Nala attacked him.” Barba placed her cup next to the Bunsen burner and turned down the flame. “I think it’s best you share what occurred with me.”

Barba’s serious tone caused a flutter of nerves in Nat’s stomach. Her chest tightened and she swallowed. She didn’t want to relive the memory of that day.

“Well?” Barba crossed her arms and waited. The thrum reverberating from the tunnel entrance filled the silent space between them.

“I fell asleep instead of watching out for him.” Nat’s voice broke. She traced the lip of her cup with her finger. “When I woke up, I knew something was wrong. The forest was quiet, no birdsong. Soris was by the river, filling our water flask.” Nat closed her eyes, remembering him turning and yelling before the Nala pounced. “A Nala leapt over me, slammed into my shoulder, and landed on Soris. I froze, Sister. I couldn’t move.” Her chin slumped against her chest. “It bit Soris and told me it would make him a duozi.” She wiped a tear away with the back of her sleeve.

“Natalie, what happened to the Nala?”

Nat sniffed and glanced at the Sister. She’d never seen Barba look so concerned.

“It threatened me. I used your dagger and stabbed it, but it was too late for Soris. It was my fault, Barba. If I’d been honest with Soris and told him I wasn’t a real Sister, then maybe he wouldn’t have trusted me so much to protect him. Instead of protecting him, I froze,” she said, her lips turning down.

“What did you do with the Nala’s body?”

“What does it matter?” she asked, irritated with Barba’s interest in the creature. “It’s dead.”

“It matters a great deal.”

“I pushed the body into the river and went to find help for Soris.”

Barba entwined her fingers and walked toward the tunnel entrance. “Natalie, these dreams you’ve been having . . . Are Soris and the dead Nala in them?”

“Yes, and last night the creature got into my dream space.”

“You invited it in?” Barba spun around so fast her glasses lifted off her nose.

“No . . . Well, yes. I thought the Nala was Soris. Maybe it was. I don’t know.” She pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead. “Look, Sister, like I said, I need help. The Nala wounded me, and the wound hasn’t healed. And these dreams—”

“It bit you?” Barba rushed to Nat.

“No, it just grazed my shoulder.”

Barba pulled the neck of her shirt down, exposing the discolored skin. She poked around the wound.

“Did Ethet leave anything here that can heal this and stop my nightmares?” Nat stared at the wall of bottles and vials. “Ouch!” She flinched away from Barba’s probing fingers. Barba readjusted the neck of her shirt. She twisted her lips and regarded Nat for a moment before she spoke.

“You’ll have to ask Ethet, Natalie.”

“She’s coming back?” Maybe there was an end to her pain.

“No, my dear, she’s not coming back. But you’re going to Fourline.”

“What?” Nat’s mouth hung open. “I’m not going back! I never should have gone in the first place.” She thrust a finger at her chest. “If it wasn’t for me, Soris would be . . . Well, he’d be what he was instead of a duozi.”

“Listen to me, Natalie.” Barba grasped her forearm. “You made it possible for Estos and everyone else to return to Fourline. Since then, we’ve learned how closely linked Mudug and the Nala are. He and the Chemist . . .” A distasteful expression crossed her face. Her grip tightened. “I don’t know how much you saw of Mudug’s dealings, but know this: The people of Fourline are nothing more than disposable pawns to him. People who disagree with him disappear or die like Emilia. He will continue to destroy anyone who counters him, and he’s letting the Nala run rampant. More people will end up like Soris if Mudug isn’t stopped.”

She took a deep breath. “Estos is the one person who can expose Mudug for what he is and what he’s done.” She dropped her hand. “Without Estos, the rebels have no rallying cause. Don’t for a second think what you did was a waste. I am certain Soris feels the same way, regardless of his transformation.”

“None of that changes the fact that Soris believed I would—that I could—protect him. He believed in me and I lied to him.” Nat clutched the front of her shirt and blinked away her tears. Expressing her guilt openly wasn’t cathartic; it was a knife to her heart.

“When we sent you in, none of us believed a Nala would attack a Warrior Sister. What happened to Soris wasn’t your fault. It was ours. The Nala were bound by an accord that should have kept both of you safe. We were wrong. The accord is broken.”

“The Rim Accord.” Nat wiped her nose with her sleeve. She felt exhausted from the rawness of her emotions.

“Yes, the Rim Accord,” Barba responded. Her expression shifted and she gave Nat a compassionate look. “Wrong or right, I understand you feel responsible for what happened to Soris. If you return to Fourline, you can help not only yourself but Soris as well.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, feeling numb and dizzy at the same time.

“You need to end the Nala that attacked Soris.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Nat snapped. “I stuck a dagger through its abdomen. It’s dead.”

“No, Natalie, it’s not. Part of it still lives on in both you and Soris.”

Nat stood up but swayed slightly, shocked by Barba’s words.

“Sit,” Barba ordered. She ushered Nat to a stool across from the stainless-steel counter. “The Nala have something similar to a gland located in their lower abdomen that’s connected to their brain through a neural pathway. The gland secretes a substance that we Sisters call ‘remnant.’ It is transmitted through Nala venom, and we think it passes indirectly through their blood, sweat, and saliva as well. The Nala use remnant for many purposes: directions, communication, and”—Barba placed her hands on the counter—“as a way to connect with their victims even after they die.”

Nat looked up, her mouth parting slightly before she spoke. “How can a dead Nala connect with anything?”

“The Sisters never discovered how it works. But we know that unless the Nala’s neural pathway is severed, ending the link between the brain and the gland, the connection remains between the Nala and its victim. Every Sister, no matter what House she comes from, learns the importance of beheading a Nala and severing the neural pathway if she ever comes into significant physical contact with the creature.”

“Dead is dead,” Nat protested.

“A Nala may be dead as we understand death, but its remnant and the connection remain unless the neural pathway between the brain and gland are cut,” Barba repeated and frowned. “I’m offering a poor explanation, Natalie. Ethet would provide a better one. It was an area of study for Healing House, not Wisdom House, Sisters.”

“How does this remnant affect me? How could a dead Nala have a connection with me? I’m not even in Fourline!” She pressed her hands against her temples, feeling like she was about to completely lose control.

“A secretion must have entered the cut in your shoulder during combat. Based on what you’ve told me of your dreams, the contact was significant enough that you have the Nala’s remnant in you, and so does Soris. The remnant creates a connection that will never go away. I’ll be blunt with you, Natalie: your physical and mental suffering will only increase the longer the remnant stays in you.”

“And will it get worse for Soris, too?” she asked, suddenly not caring about her own wound.

“Much worse. We believe active remnant nourishes the venom in a duozi’s body. A duozi with active remnant loses all ability to be . . . well, like Annin. She has some physical attributes of the Nala, but she’s more human than Nala, and she’s free of any connection.” Barba pressed her lips into a thin line. “Soris’ body will constantly fight the venom, until it wears him down and takes over completely.”

Nat closed her eyes, remembering how Soris transformed into the Nala in her dream space. She pressed her forearms against the sharp metal edge of the counter, tuning out Barba’s voice.

“. . . regardless of what Ethet does. You must seek her advice. She may have an idea other than—”

“Other than what, Sister?” Nat forced herself to listen to Barba, feeling sick to her stomach.

“I think you have to find the Nala you killed and sever the neural tie,” Barba said, confirming Nat’s nightmarish realization.

“How am I supposed to find its body? I pushed it into a river months ago. It’s probably decaying at the bottom of an ocean right now.” The sick feeling in her stomach was growing stronger.

“No, the Nala always find their dead.” Barba glanced at the smooth floor with a haunted look on her face.

“And if I don’t find the body and sever the tie, Soris and I . . . ?”

Barba took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Natalie, I really am. If we’d known the Nala had grown so brazen and were breaking the terms of the Rim Accord, we would have trained you as all Warrior Sisters are trained.”

“Sister, this is so far beyond an apology.” Nat pushed the stool away. She stared at the tunnel entrance. Before, when she’d returned to Fourline, the choice had been hers. Now, there was no choice. The vibrations from the tunnel shook under the soles of her shoes.

“Perhaps, if you give me time, I can think of another solution,” Barba said. But Nat heard the doubt in her voice.

“And what happens to Soris while you’re doing that?”

Barba said nothing. She didn’t need to.

Nat let out a long breath. Minutes passed. She stared at the tunnel entrance, processing Barba’s words, when a strange feeling of relief struck her.
At least I finally know what’s wrong with me.
She dropped her head and stared at the markings on her arm.
And I know what I have to do, even if it is impossible. I owe it to Soris.

It took her a few moments to muster the courage to say what her mind had already accepted.

“I don’t have a choice. I’ll go back in, Sister.” She turned and leveled a look at Barba. “But before I go, you’re going to do the one thing you should have done in the first place.”