UNBREATHABLE (16 page)

The Queen watches with pursed lips. Rowan wipes his dagger across his thigh and drops it back in its sheath, his forehead wrinkled and eyes downcast for barely a moment before his face clears of emotion. He looks blankly at the Queen. As if nothing happened.

As if he didn’t just slaughter an unarmed old man.

He’s as two-faced as everyone else.

“It’s no use, boy,” Chancellor Kole rasps. The knees of Julian’s pants are soaked in blood, his hands red. Dena tries to break free from the soldiers holding her back, but they don’t budge. Chancellor Kole looks at me, his eyes losing focus. “Stupid girl. I told you, I told-”

He grabs Julian’s shirt as blood sputters from his lips again. “Protect my daughter.”

And those are his last words.

“You murderer.” Dena breaks the silence, her voice is raw. Julian slowly lifts his head from against his chest and looks at me with pained eyes.

“Press the button,” the Queen says. I blink and Chancellor Kole’s body comes into focus again.

“You killed him,” I say breathlessly. My body trembles with anger.

She doesn’t care. “Press the button or they’ll all die.”

Julian is by my side in an instant. His bloody hands close around mine and gently force my finger to the button.

I bite my lip as Gage’s voice spills from the wretched instrument again.

“You unlocked it,” Gage says sadly. Light static fills the silence, drowned out by the rushing in my ears and the thudding in my heart. “When I said you are greater than man and Jute, I meant it. You
are
greater. And because of that, dear Lissa, you are in danger.”

“The Jute are going to make Earth their home. They will leave us here to wither away and the last of the human race will fade into nothing.” His voice changes and I hear the smile in his voice. I’ve seen it countless times—a small one, twisting the right edge of his lips while his eyes drown in sorrow. “But. There is always a but, isn't there, Lissa?”

I would have smiled at his old joke. Less of a joke, really, but it always managed to lighten gloomy stories.

But now, it’s different. Now, my smiles are smothered in this harsh reality.

“But Jute cannot breathe oxygen,” he says. “There is no use in going to Earth if they'll die days after they inhale.”

“That's where you come in. Where your value lies, and why you must be protected at all costs. I entrusted Kole with this recorder, just as I have entrusted your life to him.” His voice is low now, grave. “The Jute need you Lissa. I made a grave mistake and the Jute know they need you. But no one knows what for.”

He sighs. “So hear me carefully. The only way for them to survive on Earth is through you. Your blood. One drop can reproduce in heartbeats and holds the ability to thrive on both Jutaire and Earth.”

“I’m sure you’re wondering how it works. There's a certain obligate anaerobe, or bacteria, if you will, that thrives in every Jute. It also lives in your blood via symbiosis, a state in which the bacteria survives healthily in both oxygen and non-oxygen states.”

“You are a hybrid. The only one of your kind. And with one drop of your blood in each of the many Jute, they will be like you—they will breathe both oxygen and the toxic air without issue.”

He sighs again. “But you, dear Lissa, will be dead.”

The recording shuts off. I lean forward, closer and closer, but that's it. He’s gone. The box is as silent as the room around me.

My mother doesn’t intend to crown me as heir. It’s an act. My mother intends to murder me.

To suck me dry.

“Ilen.” My mother says with a jerk of her head. He doesn’t react. He’s staring at Chancellor Kole’s lifeless body. She raises her voice. “Ilen.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” He rushes to her and bows. I try not to look at the body of the man I hated for so long.

“Prick her vein.”

I shiver. The soldiers stare at me. Dena and Julian stare at me. The throne room shrinks.

She brought me out here without a word, but this was her motive all along. She may not have known exactly what she needed me for, but we both knew I would be used. Didn’t I climb into her carriage knowing that?

I didn’t know I would be killed.

I don’t know anything anymore. My life was a lie. My mind is a muddled haze.

“Relax, daughter,” she says with a humorless laugh. “We have to perform a test. Make sure you really are our Princess.”

Ilen comes forward with a case. He unfolds it, pulling out a needle and two vials, each one the length of my hand. I inhale sharply at the thought of so much blood. She knows I am the Princess. My breathing is a testament to that, however vague.

Ilen swipes the inside of my arm with a wet substance. His hands tremble.

The Queen wants to test Gage's theory, to see if my blood really is more valuable than the air I breathe.

Ilen presses the needle into my arm and I suck in a breath. Beads of red slowly trickle out, forming a steady stream down the first vial.

I grit my teeth at the pull. Clench my fists. Then it hits me.

If Jute can breathe oxygen with my blood, then the effect can go both ways—humans can breathe the air of Jutaire. Lack of oxygen will no longer be a hindrance. They can fight back.

My mind begins to clear as the answer slowly clicks.

Yes. Yes, they can.
We
can.

The sudden weight of everything comes crashing down on me. And I fall. Darkness swallows me whole.

Because finally, finally, there is hope in the world.

I wake to a void in my chest, empty and sad. I wish Julian were here, or Slate. Or even Dena or Chancellor Kole.

My breath shudders when I see his dark eyes devoid of life and his unusual white hair stained in his own blood.

I hated him, once. I thought he was a heartless murderer. But all he wanted was to protect his daughter and his people.

Chancellor Kole would never have hung so many humans if it weren’t for the Jute and their orders.

In the end,
he
was murdered.

And despite the hatred I harbored inside me against him, I forgive him. Because I know now
why 
he did what he did.

And in the end, the blame lies with the Queen.

The pillow beneath my head is plush and soft, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Above me, a silken canopy of midnight blue, dusted in glittering white, drapes over the four bedposts, emulating the night sky.

I sit up. My Louen tunic and suit is gone. Someone changed me into a pale yellow nightgown. Gold and white sheets swirl at my feet, the material a caress against my mostly bare skin. The richness of the room emanates from the walls’ elaborate deep brown decor. The trims are honey brown, a sunlit beacon in the dark.

On the other end of the room is an unlit fireplace, two brown chairs embossed with gold sitting on either side. To my left is the door, a slab of white against the brown wall. To my right is a dresser, sprawling with trinkets and other accessories I can't name from their silhouettes. Another smaller door, most likely leading to a bathroom, stands beside it.

It’s beautiful. Rich. I lie back against the pillows with a small smile on my lips.

And immediately sit up.

No. I'm in the center of Jute territory. The man I thought my father is dead. The mother I never knew I had is the Queen of the Jute. I’m in her castle, where Julian’s lookalike brother murdered Chancellor Kole before my eyes.

And my blood.

The inside of my arm prickles in reminder. They have two full vials of my blood.

The lab the Queen spoke of must be somewhere here. How else will they conduct tests? And what tests will they conduct?

I slide out of the bed. It's tall, and my feet barely skim the floor when I sit on its side.

My belt and daggers are gone and I feel vulnerable in this flimsy dress. When I move toward the door, keen on sneaking out, someone knocks. My heart catapults to my throat when I pull it open.

Julian.

The bandages dotting his face are gone, his scars barely visible.
Jute heal fast
, he had said. He looks more like Rowan now, with dress pants and a midnight blue shirt, the sleeves rolled right beneath his elbows. His messy hair glistens with droplets of water.

But when I hear his monotone, something inside me falters, stumbles and can’t get up.

“The Queen requires your presence in her chambers, Princess. Her Majesty requested that you make yourself presentable.”

Princess. The word feels like a slap. I stare at him, my breath frozen in my chest. Something flickers in his eyes and I wait for him to speak, to say something.

And when he doesn't, anger rushes through me, strengthening me. I press my lips closed. Inside, my heart is breaking, but I can't let that show.

“I will,” I reply coolly. He flinches and lowers his eyes. And though everything inside me screams the opposite, I move to close the door. But when I touch my hand to the wood, he reacts. He reaches out on instinct, his fingers brushing against my skin and I want more. More.

What is wrong with me?

“Wait,” he whispers. His voice cracks in pain. I exhale through my lips.

“Yes?” I breathe. He searches my face.

“I’ll keep my promise.”

And the door closes behind him.

I stare at the door after he leaves, wishing I can pull him back inside, run my hands through his hair and my fingers across his lips, the bridge of his nose, and the stubble on his cheeks. Where these thoughts come from, I don’t know. But I think of his promise,
I won't let them hurt you
.

And I hurry.

I wash my face in the bathroom and drag myself to the closet. If I hadn’t stepped into the bathroom, I wouldn’t have even known where the closet was.

My feet move as if they've walked through this room hundreds of times before.

Behind the closet’s double doors, dresses hang in a multitude of colors. Lavish reds, dark navies, and elegant greens. I wonder how long they had been preparing for me. I run my fingers over the silk of a simple black dress on the far end. I pull it from the hanger with a smile, because this is the one Queen Rhea will least expect me to wear.

Royals on Earth had maids to dress them, braid their hair, and tend to their baths. I have my own two hands. I don’t need anyone to work for me.

The thought of Earth reminds me of the ship and the promise I kept to myself.

Everyone hopes for a miracle. They hide in their small homes, nibbling on whatever food they have left, their faces dirty, their homes filthy. They don’t care for life anymore, their appearances say. But deep, deep inside an unseen crevice of that ever-moving mass we call a heart, hope still throbs, however faint.

Every faint heartbeat brings a human closer to death. And once one person dies, another will follow, and soon the human race will fade away to nothing.

I can save them all. Or I can bleed to death.

But first, I will meet my mother. Then take a look around. Plan.

And when I finally feel a sense of purpose, I clear my mind of everything and get ready.

I've never worn a dress. It clings to me like a second skin, accentuating every curve of my body. I long for the Louen tunic and skintight suit Slate gave me. But the dress is the least of my worries.

I step into the empty hall, which stretches from right to left, where it turns onto another hall. I turn right, because it ends with two elaborate double doors that look important. The emptiness feels odd, because in my mind, palaces are always teeming with nobles, servants, and maids.

But maybe the emptiness is a gift and I can find out more than I expect to—like the whereabouts of the lab I hope exists, and information about the ship.

I pass door after door, but I stop at none. Something tells me they are rooms much like my own, and I won’t find anything in a bedroom.

“A Princess should never wander alone.”

I freeze at the sound of Julian’s voice. Only it isn’t. This voice is dangerous. I hold my breath as his footsteps come closer.

“Hello, Lissa,” Rowan says, meeting my eyes. His voice is soft like Julian’s, yet arrogant. His dark lashes brush against the tops of his cheeks when he lowers his eyes. I try not to see the shimmering seas of Earth. I try not to imagine Julian's gentleness. Because this isn't Julian.

“What do you want?” I ask, holding my head high. I remember the flash of emotion that crossed his face when he plunged his dagger through Chancellor Kole.

He raises an eyebrow. “Getting haughty now, Princess?”

“I asked—”

“You lied back there.”

A part of me wants to run back to my room. But I’m not a coward. I’ve heard of horrors worse than Rowan.

“And?” I ask.

He stills and leans closer, forcing me to look in his eyes. The sea pulls me under. “And I think I know why.”

I want to laugh in his face. But the gears in my heart turn faster and faster. He is close. Too close.

He shouldn’t affect me this way.

“What if you're wrong?” I ask, taking a step back. He steps closer, his body still inclined toward me. He smells sharper than Julian, spicier. The collar of his knee-length black coat reaches his scruffy jaw, swathing his long neck in shadows. Dangerous excitement trills through me.