Bound (5 page)

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Authors: Chris Michaels,Reema Farra

BOOK: Bound
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Broken Nose grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”

Hannah pulled out of his grasp, hoping her eyes blazed like fire.

She wanted answers first.

“You want to know about Jason?” He cracked a smile. “And why I saved you?”

She nodded curtly.

“Not here. Not yet.” Broken Nose nudged her forward. Hannah dug in her heels.

His smile turned sour. “We have to get to safety. They’ll be right behind us!”

She crossed her arms.

“Maybe I should give you back to them.” He pointed toward the hole in the ground. “Do you know what the Ilsans do to people who escape?”

I don’t care!

“You’re not the only one in trouble here.” He gripped her upper arm and pulled her close. “I will tell you what I can, when I can, but not here.” His face flickered, twisted between rage and desperation.

For a moment, Hannah experienced his emotions. They overpowered hers until she felt like she was him.

Anger. Rage. Determination. Guilt?

Then the connection snapped. Was it ever really there?

“My name is Travis. I’ve saved you. I am Jason’s friend and there are some things you need to know, but here isn’t the place.”

I
am
Jason’s friend. Not was.

He released her. “Trust me.”

What have I gotten myself into?

“One needs friends almost as much as one needs alibis.”

– Opening Line of the Film Casper’s Heist

CHAPTER FOUR

TEN YEARS BEFORE JASON’S FUNERAL

D
arkness smothered Jason. Hunger. Exhaustion. Cold. Just the way he liked it.

“How much l-longer?”

Jason didn’t even look at his friend. “Come on, T. This is fun!”

“How much longer is the
f-fun
going to be?”

Jason shook his head. T was twelve, three years older than him. The two were best friends and had been for as long as either could remember. Jason’s dad was an important Ilsan general and T’s father was, well,
very
important in his home country. Now they were both enrolled at the Cadet’s Academy in Glass Waters. For T, is was boarding school. For Jason, it was a dream come true.

T had already been in the Academy for three years. Lucky him. Three years of army training, guns, swords and war games. Three years without stupid noble ceremonies. The problem was T didn’t think any of that was fun. He’d rather be buried in a book or back in his own country with his tutors.

The boys walked along the edge of the road in the shadow of a tall fence trimmed with round shrubbery, careful to keep out of the bright moonlight. Hollywilde and cypress trees grew at perfect intervals farther from the fence and closer to the pristinely manicured lane. Up ahead the lane curved to the right and they could just make out a dark opening at the junction. The entrance.

“Well
I’m
having fun,” Jason whispered and ran his hand along the tops of the shrubs. “Besides, you always wanted to see the Rose Maze.”

“Yeah, at day. With a guide. And my blazer.”

Jason chuckled. “It won’t be any fun to explore an ancient, forbidden maze with a guide. Besides, the Academy War Games are over tomorrow. This is our last chance.”

The games were always hosted at some important Ilsan family estate. Next year might be the Duffey’s or the Schneider’s or even his own, Everett estate. All boring politicians. Not like the Diamonds. The Diamonds were one of the oldest, most secretive families in the Republic. Who knew what they had hidden in their legendary Rose Maze?

Voices from the path ahead.

Jason dropped his stick, and dove headfirst into a bush. T was already cowering in the shrub.

“You’re not scared, are you?” Jason mocked.

“You’re in the b-bush, too!” T retorted.

“Yeah, but I’m not–”

Jason’s heart double-beat. The stench of Wild Majick suddenly choked him. Fear – he was suddenly and powerfully afraid. He wanted to crawl out of his skin and run away. He wanted to cry and scream. To do anything that might make the paralyzing terror go away.

The voices were right on top of them now. The boys could see through the branches of the bush. Two men in silver patrolman uniforms joked casually as they made their rounds around the maze. The taller sentry puffed on a cane pipe, the burnt-orange glow cast an eerie light on his face. Each carried a rifle in one hand and a leash in the other. The men weren’t scary, but the two fur-less beasts tugging on their leashes were.

Jason held a dry breath. The dogs looked like plague stricken coyotes. Each one came up to the mens’ knees. Surly, muscular skin glowed faint crimson. The longer he stared the more Jason noticed the color of the skin was actually pulsing deep red and purple. It seemed to smolder like a dying flame. Sickly-yellow and emerald green eyes shimmered like cat’s. No, nothing like cat eyes, there were two colors, for there were
two
sets of eyes. The yellow pair had round black pupils looking straight forward. The second set blazed emerald green, gazing vacantly out of each side of the coyote’s head. No pupils, only dancing clouds that reminded Jason of his grandmother’s cataracts. With every step, sinewy tendons twitched beneath the monster’s skin. It had an extra, pair of short legs in front that ended in hands with claws scouring the walkway.

One emerald eye rested on the bush. Jason’s heart nearly stopped. Vomit inched up his throat.

The creature stepped forward. Jason couldn’t feel his legs. He was certain they’d been spotted. But then the emerald eye lifted from Jason. A moment later the coyotes led the patrolmen away.

Jason’s heart beat slowly returned to normal. He wiped cold sweat from his eyes. “What the hell was that?”

“That was real!” T whimpered. “I can’t b-believe that was real.”

“What – What was it?” Jason stammered and crawled forward to make sure the patrolmen had disappeared.

“Drajen Coyotes, I think.” T shuddered. “There from the D-Dedrian Badlands. They’ve evolved Wild Majick that–” he swallowed. “That p-p-paralyzes their prey. There are lots of animals that use Wild M-Majick to–”

“Ilsans don’t use majick.” Jason hit T in the arm.

“The
people
don’t use m-majick. Those things are just mindless d-dogs. They don’t control the majick, just k-kinda use it to kill things.”

“Still–”

“Besides,” T interrupted, “you know the Diamonds don’t play by the r-rules.”

Jason stood, feeling his legs beneath him again. The terror had passed. It was stupid that he was ever scared of two mindless dogs. He stepped out of the bush and quietly ran up to the Rose Maze. A tall hedge row encompassed the Maze. Cut into it, a large rubble-stone wall with an archway was the entrance. Vines twisted across the rubble wall, weaving around inset carvings that showed Diamond family ancestors accomplishing great deeds.

T fumbled behind him. “What are you d-doing?”

The archway beckoned Jason, almost whispered to him. “I’m going in,” he said, not taking his eyes off the entrance. “Imagine all the cool things they’re protecting with majick dogs!”

Jason stepped through the archway into the maze. The first leg of the labyrinth stretched straight ahead, rows of gas lanterns turned on as he passed and radiated soft, malleable light. Vines and flowering branches crept up metallic walls, smothering the maze with deep green. Some roses seemed to glow in the dark: yellow, blue, red, and orange.

He came to a fork. Jason left the long entrance of the labyrinth and stepped into the first path in the maze. His boot clanged against floor. Thin metal slits ran below his feet and showed a tangle of intricate gears, coils and sprockets below.

“What’s this do?” Jason asked, pointing at the cut patterns in the floor.

T just shrugged, stepping forward. As soon as they were fully inside the maze, the gears below their feet sprang into motion. The automota hissed with clockwork precision. Suddenly the walls moved and repositioned themselves. In less than a second, the maze had changed its very shape.

The whole thing was a giant Mechinician: a clockwork-driven, steam power, ever-changing, living labyrinth.

“Most. Awesome. Thing. Ever.” Jason’s face lit up.

“Fascinating.” T studied the clockwork beneath the gridded metal floor. “I wonder if the sprockets are controlled by an artificer or diacratic system.”

“Yeah,” Jason said, ignoring his friend and started down a newly formed path.

T followed him deeper into the Rose Maze.

Jason felt like a secret agent picking his way through a rain forest. His mission: save the Jaden Queen from the Pirate Lord.

T broke in. “You
do
know the way out? R-right?”

“Sure,” Jason said. “Back the way we came.”

An hour or more passed. The Maze dragged the boys ever forward, moving and changing all the while, until Jason was dizzy. In the end, they’d found nothing but flowers and occasional statues of dead ancestors. The sky had started to hint blue.

T piped up, “we should probably turn back. We have m-morning P. T. soon.”

Jason’s shoulders sagged. What a waste of time. “Fine.” He turned around. “Go ahead.”

T’s jaw dropped. “What! Me? You s-s-said you knew–”

“I said ‘back the way we came.’ You’re the genius!”

T plopped to the ground. “We’re gonna get in trouble again! We’re gonna–”

“What’s that?” Jason pointed to the ground. “You’re sitting on it.”

T jumped to his feet. “Is it alive?”

“It’s not alive.” Jason squatted beside it. “I swear you’re a
tigri
sometimes.” He reached forward. This bit of the maze must have been part of the original estate. The floor was stone again and the walls did not move. In the center of the converging paths was a carved circle large enough for Jason to lie in. It was smoothly cut stone with a smaller circle in the center and lines like wagon wheel spokes connecting the inner and outer ring. Intricately carved pictures ran down each spoke; portraits mostly. More Diamond family ancestors. The center circle held a glittering diamond and a carved stone titan cat, each the size of Jason’s fist. Letters crawled around the wheel’s outer edge. “
Arthem Dell Furest Norse.

“That’s old R-Ryphanell.” T said. “Means The World Is Ours.”

Jason’s fingers grazed the jewel. “The Diamond family motto.” The gem depressed slightly against his fingers. He pressed harder and felt the diamond move. “And guess what . . . ”

“W-what?” T asked.

Jason slid the diamond and the ground clicked and split along the wheel spokes, receding into the floor revealing a ladder descending into inky blackness.

Jason beamed. “It’s a secret tunnel!”

This is what the Academy was
supposed
to be: secret missions with your friends.

Jason and T each took an oil lamp from the immobile maze walls and followed the pitch-black, icy cold tunnel down and back toward the direction of Diamond Manor. After a few minutes, they reached a door. The handle turned. It was unlocked.

A fire warmed the room and Jason’s cold bones. The room itself was maybe forty paces square, crammed with contraptions, globes, books, clockwork machinery and oil lamps. Portraits and maps covered the walls. The maps were automated, slowly moving troops crossed battlefields and ships crossed oceans. Several clocks hung on one wall, each counting down to something different. Another wall had hundreds of nameplates. Some names Jason recognized as Senators, each with different colored lights next to the names. A few of the names had been marked through. His gut twisted a bit when he realized those Senators had all died or been expelled in recent months.

“Do all Ilsan Families have r-r-rooms like this?” T asked in awe.

“Not mine,” Jason replied, breathless. “At least not that my dad told me about.”

“We probably shouldn’t be here.”

“We
probably
shouldn’t do
anything
fun.” Jason stepped toward a series of ship models.

“Hey,” called T from a stack of bookshelves across the room. “This is a b-blackmail list . . . ”

Jason moved to a display of trains.

“ . . . And the names of s-spies.”

“That’s just politics.” Another display caught Jason’s eye. “
This
is cool.”

Aeroplanes.

It hadn’t been three years since the first man flew in an aero-plane. Jason remembered listening to the radio news report. The pilot talking about the wind in his hair. How he could see everything for miles. Jason picked up the model. “Someday,” he whispered to himself. “I’m gonna fly one of these. I’m gonna
really
be free.”

Footsteps down the stairs. Voices.  “It wasn’t my fault, Father!”

“Great men don’t shift blame, boy!”

Angry
voices. “Marissa disappeared after her sister–”

The footsteps stopped suddenly, giving way to the sharp crack of hand against flesh. “You will be a king, boy. Kings do
not
behave like weasels.”

Jason’s breath caught. He recognized the boy’s voice as Broderick Diamond. He was in the same year as T. The man must be his father, Slake.

They stepped into the room. Slake shouted, “who the hell are you?” as he grabbed Jason’s arms.

“The Everett boy,” Broderick supplied.

“I’m not scared of you,” Jason countered.

Slake’s coarse hand clenched Jason’s cheek. “What have you seen here?”

Jason’s heart pounded, but he kept his cool. “A really ugly face?”

CRASH!

The Diamonds spun.

BOOM!

Slake lost his grip on Jason.

“The bookshelves,” Broderick shouted. “Someone else is–”

Just then, T plowed into Broderick. Jason shoved a distracted Slake into his son.

T scrambled to his feet and locked eyes with Jason. They dashed for the secret tunnel. Jason didn’t look back, but heard the Diamonds jump to their feet. They were right behind. Adrenaline took over, pushing him to the door first. He swung it open and darted through half-a-second ahead of T. Together they slammed the door shut, erasing light from the tunnel, and ran through the darkness. Halfway across, the door behind them opened.

Jason and T reached the ladder as the Diamonds broke into the tunnel.

T scrambled up the ladder and forced open the wagon-wheel hatch.

Slake and Broderick heaved and huffed, halfway there.

T and Jason crawled into the dawn sun and slammed the hatch shut. They bolted through the Maze. It seemed like the mechanized walls had noticed their panic because the labyrinth shifted and twisted into a straight path to the exit. They charged out of the Rose Maze and down the lane, not stopping until they reached their Academy campsite. Jason’s sides split in pain.

The other cadets were already outside; morning P. T. was in a few minutes.

Diamond

T collapsed to the ground, heaving for breath.

“Man.” Jason sat next to him. “You
are
out of shape.”

“I–want–my–b-blazer,” T replied.

Jason pulled off his outer coat and handed it to T. “Don’t worry. They can’t do anything to us as long as we stay with the others. They won’t want anyone know about their stupid little room.”

T nodded.

Jason swallowed hard. “Thanks for having my back.”

“I always d-d-do.”

“Not
that
often.”

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