Resurrection Island (The Resurrection Series Book 1) Page 4

  “Yes.”

  I steel my spine and keep my eyes locked with hers, unyielding. I keep my composure regardless of how much I’m now freely inhaling the thick cloud of air around me. I’m too strong to lose myself in the drug that drifts through the room and floods my senses.

  I do not regret my choice to save her, no matter the consequences.

  The thunder outside quiets, and she shifts in her chair, leaning toward me a little more. Her head tilts at me in consideration.

  “You know, I always liked your arrogance, Remy.” Her words are soft and seductive. “You have a different sort of confidence the other Saviors don’t have. Not always a justified confidence, but an attractive trait all the same. Perhaps your rash judgment will work in my favor. Perhaps the woman, Alexandra, will be an excellent Savior like yourself. Doubtful, but possible all the same.”

  The air leaves my lungs, my head spinning to keep up with the conversation. A visual of Alexandra rotting away in a life just like my own fills my unstable mind. Felicity smirks at my reaction.

  Since I came to the Island, Felicity has had zero female Saviors. If I had to guess, it probably has something to do with how well Felicity seems to manipulate men. Women are uncontainable in her mind. Would she really allow Alexandra to become a Savior? The alternative would be to set her free, and based on how much admiration Felicity has for Alexandra’s tortured soul, I don’t think she will let that happen.

  “Why don’t you start mentoring her now?” Felicity adds, lifting her fingers to admire her cuticles like I’m already gone.

  “You want a living, unattached person doing rescue voyages?” I ask, anger simmering just under my tranquility.

  “No, of course not; not yet anyway. How embarrassing would it be if you lost her in a different century?” Violet sneering eyes narrow on me, her lips pulling into a tight line.

  Her words crawl under my skin, but I take deep breaths to calm my anger. The smoke no longer eases my irate nerves; it just makes it harder to breathe.

  “No, since you are bringing home such low census anyway,” another pause to allow my anger to boil, “you’ll stay here. On the Island. Every day until she concedes to stay with us.” A superior smile touches Felicity’s lips; she knows I’ll go crazy here. She knows my human body will physically and emotionally shut down under the demands of the Island. She knows I’ll break and beg Alexandra to stay here.

  I close my eyes tightly and clench my jaw before I say something I’ll regret later. Nodding, I lower my head, accepting my punishment for saving Alexandra’s life.

  “Go. Release your pain in the Grievance Grave already, before you die on my clean floor,” she sharply says with a wave of her hand, dismissing me.

  As I leave, I bump shoulders with an older man, a Savior named Phillip. He’s been on Resurrection for a few years ... a few decades maybe. Hell, it could be a few days for all I know.

  Phillip’s face is coated in sweat and creased with fear. He breathes in heavy spurts as he looks into my eyes, searching mine as if he might grovel at my feet. I back away from his bizarre behavior.

  Felicity’s smooth voice filters through the room as I quickly push against the door to leave, wanting to put as much space between myself and the Priestess as possible.

  “Phillip, what did I tell you would happen if you returned to Resurrection empty handed again?”

  Agonizing screams echo through the temple even after I close the door safely behind me. His pain spikes in the air around me and pushes at the structure of my soul to enter but I push back, not allowing another death to enter my body.

  Leaving the temple, I walk quickly without cognizance through the jungle to the Grievance Grave to deposit the pain I’ve collected, an offering to the Island. The sharp feeling of their grief numbs inside me at the thought of being stuck here indefinitely – of having to make a choice between ruining Alexandra’s life or my own.

  Deep breaths of fresh air fill my lungs, working to declutter the fog that’s settled over my mind. My heavy steps echo against granite as I enter the large cave. It glows from deep within.

  My pace quickens without thought, knowing the pain in my chest will soon fade. I strip my clothes away, standing at the edge of the shimmering lavender water. It sends a pale purple light against the dark walls, lighting the structure with an unearthly aura, illuminating the ancient writings that litter every jagged inch of the cave.

  The first time I laid eyes on this place I thought it was the entrance to heaven. I was incredibly wrong. Naïve and wrong. Johnny explained that the emotions we collect are stored here, like a cellar for Felicity to pull from whenever she is feeling low.

  He told me how she once took the pain directly from him, when he was the only Savior. But when more Saviors and Survivors found peace here, the more pain was brought home. It was too much, even for her, and it almost killed our Priestess. And so the Grievance Grave was born.

  I’d like to say I don’t know what our Priestess is. A part of me would much rather remain naïve instead of understanding why pain brings her power.

  I step ungracefully into the water, lowering deeper into the Grievance Grave until the warm waves splash against my biceps. My skin tingles against the warm water. I swim to the center, not knowing what lays at the bottom of the clouded, mystical pool. Taking a deep breath, I submerge my body beneath the only safe haven I’ve found here on this island.

  Slowly I begin to sink, my limbs drifting through the thick fluid. Each of my fingers arch painfully as tension pulls from my soul and mind, racing to my fingertips until my hands shake with an unnatural power.

  The water swirls around me, turning my body like a figurine in the hand of a child. It circles wildly, picking up speed like the current of a river. A thrashing begins to take over my erratic heart, adrenaline coursing through me in an alarming and unharnessed rhythm. I work hard to centralize the feelings overwhelming my mortal soul. My eyes clench tightly closed and my limbs tense, suspended within the needy current. Power surges through my arms, pushing and pushing against myself until all of the emotions release from my palms in a flood of darkness around me.

  I refuse to open my eyes, knowing all I will see are wisps of shadows swirling around me. My body is strung tight, my eyelids flinching as the Grave pulls greedily at the pain I dispense.

  The water slows as the last of the pain is pulled from my veins, a light and tired feeling washing into my body. I remain unmoving within the water for a few additional seconds, curious as to whether I truly want to resurface. Do I really want to come up for air knowing the Island will slowly suffocate me anyway, leaving Alexandra to manage the darkness alone?

  With that thought, I kick my feet hard and lap through the thick water. My fingers brush against the surface, and my lungs burn taking in the humid air once my head is above water. The waves are no longer purple and no longer provide the enthralling eerie light to those who pass by.

  It’s black around me, my hands pushing at it as I make my way back to the edge. Black drops of water run down my chest when I step out. I shake my hair trying to rid myself of the unnatural substance. I dress quickly and try to enjoy the rebirth it has offered me. My feelings are my own. Happiness isn’t one of them, but the guilt and pain are mine.

  For now.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The New Life Festival

  Alexandra

  It burns. The liquid burns all the way down my throat and lays peculiarly in my stomach. If the others celebrating tonight have the same reaction to the alcohol, they don’t show it. Hundreds of people dance, eat, and converse amongst themselves. Even the other two women who were on the ship with me today seem to be enjoying the festivities.

  Everyone except me.

  After the long tour around the Island, sweat dripping down my spine from the exhausting heat, Lucas left me with a sweet woman named Cali. She showed me to a single room bamboo apartment I’ll be staying in “for as long as I accept the Island as my home.” Her words were i
ntended to be kind, but they sat strangely in my mind.

  She gave me new clothes which, after a long discussion, she assured me multiple times were appropriate to wear. Even now as I tug at the hem of my short shirt, I can’t help but doubt her. She then gave me soap and let me clean up. I took the first real bath I’ve had in ages. My skin feels smooth and clean.

  My posture straightens even further, and I ignore the way my shirt rises to reveal a minimal amount of skin at my lower stomach. From beneath my lashes I glance toward Cali, but she appears oblivious to my fidgeting.

  Cali sits next to me on a rock on the outskirts of the celebration. Her outfit is similar to my own; she wears a long, flowing white skirt and a tight, white shirt that dips low and has thin straps over the shoulders. I’m still warm in the thin outfit, but I can feel the breeze dipping into the Island, settling in for nightfall.

  I haven’t had much experience with alcohol … or people for that matter. Everything is so different. The wide leaves, the trees, and the nature of the Island in general are unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The trees are long and spindle like, with leaves so large and heavy I can’t imagine how they manage to stand upright. Vines tangle wildly through the thick terrain, like the forest might consume this world entirely. The weather is warm and the people are wild, but their happiness is what strikes me as the most out of place.

  I don’t know how to act. For the last couple of hours, I’ve found it’s safest sitting in the quiet, eating the smoked boar. Watching. Taking in what my new home is trying to offer me.

  As much as I hate to admit it, I don’t like it here. I want to. I want to so badly. I want to find happiness in my life, if only for a moment. But it’s hard to trust people when you’ve never found anything good in them. It’s hard to find happiness when you’ve never seen it.

  I suppose Remy is as close to good as I’ve ever met, and even he has harmed me. I thought he was going to leave me there in my own personal hell to rot away, a process that would have happened much faster if he would have left after the small hope he had offered.

  But he didn’t. He kept me alive when I was ready to die. When I had accepted that nothing good would ever come from living this life.

  “Which ship did you come in on? The Pyxis?” Cali asks, interrupting my thoughts.

  I shake my head at her, unaware the ships had names. She smirks at me, her short, dark hair framing her heart shaped face.

  Why is she still sitting with me? She’s very pretty and kind. I’m sure she has plenty of friends she could join tonight. Hundreds of people mill about and do not pay much attention to us.

  “Who brought you in? Johnny?”

  “No, Remy. He –” I pause still processing the bizarre change my life has taken. “He saved me,” I say, picking at my plate of food.

  An enormous grin breaks across her face, showing off her perfect white teeth and full lips to complete a beautiful smile. What tragic life did this beautiful girl lead to end up here, sitting next to me on an island that hums unnaturally beneath my feet?

  “Hmm, lucky, lucky girl.” She bumps her elbow playfully into mine. “The man is like a walking advertisement for this place. You don’t believe something so perfect exists, but then there he is, proving you wrong. Then he brings you here, and you’re proven wrong yet again.”

  She laughs with ease as I raise my eyebrows at her, surprised by her candidness.

  “Listen, I know we’re from different times, but you’d have to be a New England Protestant to not admit how sexy he is.”

  She looks at me, holding back a smirk and waiting. For what? She tilts her head at me, taunting me for a reply.

  “He does have a sort of …” I pause, the unspoken words thick on my tongue.

  “Say it,” she says teasing, leaning closer to me. “Say it.”

  I bite my lip as I smile at her pushy manner. My face warms just thinking about the word she used.

  “Fine. Remy is sexy. Are you pleased now?” My voice is unlady like and shrill, and she bursts into laughter, laying her head against my shoulder and causing me to smile back at her. How much burning alcohol has she had to drink?

  “You know you don’t have to shout about my sexiness, love. Cali can decide for herself,” Remy’s smooth voice says from over my shoulder.

  I turn to see him standing next to Lucas, and my eyes fix on his broodingly handsome face. Lucas laughs, but Remy looks passive as he takes a drink from his cup.

  My mouth opens and then closes quickly. My heart paces nervously in my chest at the thought of the ludicrous word I used to describe him.

  Sexy.

  He is, I suppose. He has to know he’s handsome. A body made for admiring. He strides with confidence in a way only someone who has lived a life with a beautiful face can.

  But Lord did he have to hear me say it? How embarrassing. If this rock caved in beneath me, sucking me into the Island entirely, it would be a blessing in this moment.

  Cali looks up to see the two men standing beside us and bursts into laughter all over again, leaning even farther into me. I take another long and painful drink, trying to drown my humiliation in the cup.

  “Why don’t you put down your drink and come dance with me, Cali?” Lucas says, standing before the girl like an offering.

  They’re similar, the two of them. His easy personality matches her bubbling happiness. He’s handsome too, and I can see that Cali sees it when her smile fades and becomes serious as she studies the man before her. Perhaps the Remy talk was just her way of reflecting what she feels for Lucas.

  With enough time here, could I be like them? Happy and carefree?

  He nudges her leg playfully with his. “Come on,” he pleads with a charming smile.

  She looks over at me from the corner of her eye, as if asking my opinion. I nudge her with my shoulder, and she stands immediately. Lucas takes her hand in his as they walk toward the others dancing in the clearing, swaying to the soft music.

  “Try to control yourself with my sexy friend,” Lucas says over his shoulder with a laugh, making my face flame red at his words.

  Remy sits, taking the space Cali previously occupied. An awkwardness settles over me, but I stiffen my shoulders like I have the countless times someone has made me feel like I’m less than the royal bloodline I was born into.

  “You look different,” I say, looking for words to ease the tension between us. “Less exhausted. Did you get some sleep?”

  Remy takes another slow drink, seeming to ignore me.

  “No, it’s just good to be home,” he finally says, a little sarcasm dripping in his voice as he tosses his paper cup into the fire. The warm flames crackle and expand from whatever it is we’re drinking. The burst from the fire makes the drink even more questionable.

  His clipped reply makes me quiet. Why did he sit here if he clearly would rather be alone? I should just go back to my room. In all honesty, I would rather be alone as well. In all my confusion, I don’t feel like celebrating tonight.

  I stand, setting my plate on the rock. His attention drifts to me.

  Suddenly he’s interested?

  “Leaving so early?” he asks.

  I nod and turn away. We’re not friends. He saved me when no one else would and that is all. His begrudging rescue only makes me one of thousands of people on this island indebted to him.

  “This is the only celebration the Island has. You should enjoy it,” he says, standing with me.

  It’s almost like he doesn’t want me to leave.

  His height towers over me. He’s not as intimidating as the foulmouthed guards in the tower were; they spewed more profanity than intellectual verbosity. But with Remy, a feeling of safety almost surrounds me when he’s near.

  His dark clothes and black hair start to bleed into the night sky, his emerald eyes a sharp contrast. Eyes so bright they reflect the intensity of the fire behind me.

  “What are they celebrating?” I ask, unable to help myself from learning everything this
man knows. It’s one of hundreds of questions I have about the Island.

  “Once a year the Islanders throw a New Life Festival in honor of all of their birthdays, as a reminder of their new start on Resurrection. Though time is not kept on the Island, Felicity makes sure it is done on the same day every year.”

  We were told about Felicity during the tour. We passed her temple. She’s not a ruler, which is good; I don’t think I could stomach another person ruling my menial existence. She’s the Island’s keeper, a sort of Priestess. We give her our sins and our pain, and she, in turn, gives us redemption within the Island. It’s a pleasant idea, magical almost. Yet, my stomach twists at the aberrancy of it all.

  Resurrection is amazing … fantastic, really. But something isn’t right here. This place is like a fairytale … a beautiful, astounding fairytale. After all the stories I’ve read you’d think I’d be a little more accepting of the strange and mystical, but it feels wrong here. A wrongness so heavy it fills my lungs with dread with each fresh breath of air I breathe.

  Remy pushes his hands into his pockets as a cold breeze shifts around us. His long sleeve shirt is fitted over strong biceps and wide shoulders. A feeling of safety settles over my mind as I think about how it felt when he caught me, holding me against him.

  I glance away from him and the memory as I fold my arms across my chest to stop the chill of the wind.

  “What is the date of the New Life Festival?” I ask, mostly because time did not exist within the tower, either. The only date I ever knew was when my father, the King, visited once a year on my birthday.

  Remy smiles lightly. He’s handsome. He’s always handsome, but especially so when his rarely seen smile crosses his face. I look away, into the fire to avoid studying him further.

  “April first.” He says the date like a joke.

  Does the date mean something outside of my isolated tower? It’s apparently something I don’t understand, but I can’t help but smile at his happiness all the same. His smile warms me from the inside out, a fluttering mixture of nervous energy and excitement swarm my chest.