Underland(45)

“We move tonight. With or without her.” Den spun on his heels but turned back in warning. “And you can’t be seen here anymore. Leave.”

Zeke looked back at Kira and knew Den was right. If the Underlords were interested in her, then they’d be coming for her soon. And he needed to stay far away from both the Underlords and Kira…for now.

***

When Kira awoke for the first time and realized she was in the infirmary she cried—a deep, aching cry, even though she was too weak to make much noise. She’d hoped it was all a dream.

She heard a girl’s gasp, but when she looked around saw only a plume of smoke. All through the night, as Kira slipped in and out of consciousness, she thought she saw someone sitting close to her bed and watching over her. But every time she turned her head to look, the girl was gone.

Her only evidence was the soft billowing wisp of smoke and an empty chair, which sat a little too close to the bed.

With the sheet over her head, Kira stared at the outline of the chair, barely discernible through the cotton. She would wait all day if she had to.

Kira’s body hurt everywhere; not one inch of her body didn’t feel bruised or sore. Who rescued her? And did they run her over with a car? Because that’s what it felt like. When no one appeared in the chair, Kira did her best to slow her breathing, trying to feign sleep.

There it was—the sound she had been waiting for—a puff. She could have sworn she smelled lavender. The chair creaked. What should she say?

“I know you’re there.” Kira spoke softly through the sheet. “You can stop hiding.”

“You sure?” The soft voice sounded so youthful and insecure that she immediately pegged the girl as a child. “He didn’t want you to be alone in case someone else tried to hurt you.”

Kira felt tired. “Who?”

“Den. I saw them chase you and what happened with the car. I found the zeke. He’s the one who got you out of the trunk. The horse doctor pumped your stomach and gave you an antidote based on what cheetah said were the poisons. He asked me to watch over you in case someone else came.” She rocked on the chair and pointed to Kira’s wrist. “I saw your band. Someone stole your winnings. That’s really sad.” The voice sounded scared.

“How can they do that? Can’t we do something about it?” Kira’s fingers closed into an angry fist above the sheet.

“No. The witch won’t have your winnings anymore. She’d have transferred them evenly among her coven members to hide it. To get it back you’d have to take them all on. It’s not worth it. And you wouldn’t survive.”

“Does that happen a lot? Stealing of freedom tokens?”

She nodded her head. “Yes, it does. But people usually just turn around and steal from others to make it up, or from the dead.”

“I wouldn’t do that. I’m not like that.” Kira pulled the sheet from her head and stared at the speaker. She was right; her guardian was a young girl, barely twelve years old. Strawberry gold hair spilled down her back, and she had intense green eyes. She wore overall shorts and a plaid shirt rolled up at the sleeves.

How or why this girl was watching over her, Kira couldn’t figure out. But then again, she wasn’t really a normal little girl, was she? “What’s your name?”

“Alice.” Her face lit up in a smile.

Kira rolled her eyes.

“And I know who you are.” Alice leaned forward in her chair eagerly. “Everyone knows who you are. You’re Kira, the human who killed Creeper and Bogeyman, and you survived the gauntlet. You’re famous.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

She shook her head, “No, you have a whole fan club already.”

“Oh yeah? Where were they when I was getting locked in a trunk and robbed?”

The smile slipped from Alice’s face, and she bit her lip, refusing to make eye contact. In another puff of smoke she was gone, her chair empty. Kira reached forward and waved her hand over the chair, but it passed through air. This was nuts.

She laid back down on the bed and waited. For what, she wasn’t sure. What seemed like hours but was probably only moments later, Warrick stepped into the room. His back was stiff and his bedside manner was odd. He checked her vitals but barely spoke to her.

“What’s your problem?” Kira snarled at him after he jabbed her stomach painfully.

“You’re my problem.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” She slapped his hand away from her.

Warrick stiffened and leaned away, as if the very touch of her hand on his arm offended him. What? Only a few days ago, he had been the one to try and take her into the city to “prepare” her for the race.

Now he acted like he didn’t care.

He turned to grab something out of his medicine pouch and what she saw across his back made her stomach turn. Warrick’s smooth skin was covered in angry red welts. Someone had taken a whip to his back, and the centaur hadn’t been able to reach all of the wounds and treat himself. She could see a salve had been spread on the lower ones, but the upper welts were severely neglected.

“What happened? Who would do something like that?” Warrick wouldn’t look at her. She finally started to understand his aloofness, his anger. It wasn’t necessarily directed at her. It was because of her.