The Master and The Marionette (The Pawn and The Puppet series Book 2)

As the shelter of sleep is slowly peeling off of my body like an oversized bandage, I try and pull it back. Becoming more and more aware of my surroundings. Feeling the bars of my cage making painful indentions in my skin. I beg for that sweet relief of sleep to stay longer, stay forever. That sweet, clouded oblivion of heavy eyelids, numb body parts, and dreams that whisk me far away from here.

I want to wake up to Kane lying next to me. To DaiSzek facing the woods on guard. The mere glimpse of the future I desire most puts me in a good mood. A great mood. Despite the impending death of my sanity within the barriers of this cage.

A surge of energy makes a sudden path through my veins, tingling my skin, curling and uncurling my toes. Reluctantly, I open my eyes. Or maybe I don’t. Did I go blind?

I can feel the perimeter of the cage holding me prisoner, but I see only darkness. I squint my eyes to focus on the tiniest bit of light. Nothing. I hold my hand in front of my face, wave it around. Tension creeps over me like a slow-rising tidal wave. I can’t see my own hand. Why can’t I see my own hand? Perhaps with the harsh conditions I’m living in, my mind is susceptible to night terrors.

I slam my hand against the side of the cage. Clink!

“Hey!” I call out. My eyes darting around blindly. “Albatross! I can’t see.”

He must know that. Is he even in here? Maybe everyone is asleep. He has to sleep at some point. Silence. Not a whisper. Not a footstep in the hallway connected to the door.

This time I twist to my left and ram my hands against the cage. The sharp sound confirms I, at least, am not deaf.

If this is another form of Albatross’s strange trials, I have to admit… it beats being force-fed. At least I’m not being strapped down. I’m sitting in a cramped cage, yes, but I’m not in pain, I’m only slightly uncomfortable.

I lie back, deciding to think only of what will distract me. And right now, it’s the shift between Dessin and me. It’s the night we spent in his bed in the asylum. The things he did to my body, the way he made me come apart. I wish I would have told him how I felt in the moment, but he’s been so elusive, so complex with what he feels and when he feels it. I’m constantly on the defense, wondering if his emotion toward me runs as deeply as mine does toward him.

I want him as more than a friend. That much is certain. But one moment he’s worshipping my body, threatening anyone that will harm me, or looking at me like I’m the something he’s wanted his whole life. The next moment, Kane’s telling me he doesn’t feel that way about me. He’s resisting my touch. He’s ignoring my confessions about what I want.

And then there’s Albatross’s statement. Dessin took part in fucking dolls. Innocent women that couldn’t lose the weight, that couldn’t conform to the society designed by men for men. The terror they must have been sick with after being tortured in the asylum, only to be assaulted by lonely men in uniform.

And evidently, one of those men was Dessin.

It makes me sick, numb, beside myself thinking about him not only with another woman, but with a nonconsenting woman.

I’d like to say that he wouldn’t do that. He’d never dream of it, but perhaps there is a side to him that I haven’t been introduced to. Perhaps the only reason he fucked me was because he’s been away from lifeless fucking dolls for so long.

I grimace at the darkness. This is exactly what Albatross was going for. To put doubt in my mind. To second-guess that man who would rain hell over the world just to save me.

I can’t give him that. Can’t doubt Dessin’s ability to free me.

I shift to my side to relieve some pressure on my neck and head pressed up at the top of the cage. I wonder what the five of us will do when I get out of here. Yes, five. Because when I am freed, I want to find Chekiss and Niles. I want them with us for the rest of the journey. I don’t trust that they’re safe from Demechnef.

Will we find a place in the forests where Demechnef can’t reach us? Will we travel beyond the forest? Has Kane thought this far ahead? I wouldn’t mind that life. I’d like to wake up to the sound of Niles and Chekiss bickering. To Ruth, smiling and adjusting to the wilderness. I can imagine that Kane, even though he is patient on all sides and angles, will grow weary of the talking and bickering and will often want to pull me away so we can enjoy our late-night talks under the stars, or a few moments alone with DaiSzek.

“Are you thinking of your traveling companion?”

Albatross’s slippery tone knocks against the corners of my cage. I flinch. Has he seriously been sitting in the dark this entire time? Does he ever move? Does he just watch me for hours on end?

“Yes,” I answer plainly. There’s no point in lying now.

“And you probably are wondering when he’s going to save you, I presume?” Albatross asks.

I nod into the darkness, knowing he can’t see my movement. Or maybe he can. A dark and forced chuckle comes from deep in his throat.

“I’m sorry, it’s really not fair of me to find that amusing. You don’t know how this really works, you’re practically an infant in a crib, waiting for the swollen breast of your mother. Your dead mother that will never come. But of course, you’re a fetus, you don’t know that you’ll starve waiting for milk.”

I stiffen. My lungs clench together like grinding teeth, pulling my organs closer to the core of my body like they’re connected to string. Dead?

Another chesty chuckle. “Well, your travel companion isn’t dead, per se, but he’ll never come for you. You’d accept that if you knew the details of his condition.”

I release a toxic breath that was turning into dangerous fumes against the tender lining of my lungs. I, once again, play along. “Will you help me understand, Albatross?”

He hums. Pleased and contrite with my request to be educated once more.

“I do find it utterly cruel and unusual to let you run about without a stroke of cells in your brain that hold information so important to your survival. What kind of world do we live in these days?” Creaking of wood, like the frame of a chair, and fabric rubbing together. “But that’s another conversation. The most important bit of knowledge you need to know is that no one is coming for you, Skylenna. You see, your travel companion has a masterfully inflated ego. He believes whatever we conditioned his brain to believe. We wanted him to believe he could conquer absolutely anything. That no amount of security could contain him. Sound familiar, right? You probably have this deeply rooted idea that this man is indestructible and his mind exceeds far past the simple identifier of genius, correct?”

I nod again. Where is he going with this?

“I said, correct?” His tone sharpens.

“Yes. That’s correct.”

“You also probably believe that Demechnef couldn’t contain or control him. That they’ve been chasing him for years, and he’s outsmarted them every time. Because with a mind that is so far passed any technological or scientific advancements, how could anyone possibly be able to stand in his way from what he wants? Correct?”

I’m gripping the bars now. Feeling anger pressurize against my rib cage.

“Yes.”

I hear a tapping sound coming from the corner Albatross is sitting in. A stuttering beat of silence. A slurping sound from a cup.

“Now, I’m going to try my best to say this with the utmost delicacy and sensitivity I have in my heart, without laughing, I might add.” An exaggerated sigh. “This is a lie he was fed as a small child. Everything he knows now we have made him believe. He is part of an experiment, that much is true, but the experiment is to make his young mind wholeheartedly believe he is superior to the human race. He hasn’t pulled off a single action without our blessing. He hasn’t fulfilled a single escape without our unlocking the doors first. He will never be able to break into this room. This building. This territory. He will try and fail and try and fail. And that will be the conclusion of the experiment. You see, your travel companion will have a plan, and not have a single doubt in his mind that he will be able to save you. But the closing remarks will be the moment he realizes his entire life was staged. He has been our puppet, and we’re about to cut his strings.”

I stare into the darkness; I blink furiously. I can’t digest what he is saying. The words are skimming off my ears like skipping a rock over water.

“Another way to look at it is if we made a man believe he could fly. We attached a harness, made him forget he had the harness on, and for his whole life he believed he could soar through the clouds. Then, one day, we rip the harness from his body, and he falls to his death. Isn’t that a carefully thought-out ending? What a theatrical conclusion it will be for him. We’ll get to see what happens to the human mind when reality melts through his fingers and he’s left with a disgusting mirror that shows him the sad and helplessly ordinary person he truly is.”

My teeth are scraping against each other and I feel his pointy words deep in the bed of my loyalty to Dessin. For Kane. And that’s just it, I feel it like it’s another part of my body. My respect for him is attached to me like the way my arm hangs at my side. It’s attached and to remove it would be to cut it off and bleed to death. I can’t believe what he’s saying. My respect won’t even allow me to consider it. But the fact that Albatross thinks I would fall for that is pathetic. It’s vile.

“You’re a liar!” I scream. The height my voice reaches stuns me. “You think I would fall for that garbage? You may have made me believe my collarbone broke, or that I’m blind, but you’ll never scratch the surface of the hope I have!” My fingers are squeezing the bars, creating small blisters as I twist them back and forth.

Albatross snickers, like two champaign glasses clinking together. “Why would I lie about that? I never lie about education. And this, my girl, is a seminar taught by me, just for you.” The smug smile leaks into his voice like pollution from a sewer and the remnants of gunk from under a swamp rock.

“He’ll come for me,” I whisper with the hot branding iron of resentment searing through my words. It’s a whisper of certainty. A whisper of confidence.

“Even if he does, my girl, these walls are impenetrable. We have security precautions in this facility that will make your old place of employment look like a child’s playground.” He laughs again. Adjusts in his seat.

I release my grip from the cage. “I’m done talking.”

“Yes, you are.”