CHAPTER ONE
I had barely slept in days, not that I could’ve even if I’d wanted to. My mind wouldn’t rest, it refused, choosing instead to continue gnawing over recent events like a dog with a bone. The Obsidian Order hadn’t sent me to Harrowgate to kill the Horseman; the Obsidian Order didn’t even know I was alive.
I hadn’t wanted to believe Azlu when she relayed Seline’s message to me. Believing her meant something had happened to me over the past six months, something I had no memory of. She had tried to help that night. The Spiderling had tried to soothe my mind as I lay in the Horseman’s bed.
But even though she was another Outsider, like me, she couldn’t understand what I was going through. I had already lost all of my memories once before, while she had not. Maybe mine weren’t pleasant memories, but they were mine, and they were gone—and with them went my entire identity. Anything I had been before I fell, stripped away and lost to the fog of amnesia.
All I’d had since my fall through the rift was the identity I had been given, the title of Holy Bitch. For years I had worked to remove the stain that had left on me, to find a new identity for myself. I fought, and trained, and clawed my way out of that hole to emerge as Six, a proud Serakon, a fighter, and an agent of the Obsidian Order.
Eight long years it had taken for me to find myself, and all it took was six months of missing memories for me to lose myself again.
For all my strength and speed, for all my skill and my resolve, I had come face to face with the truth that I was more vulnerable than I thought. My mind had been cracked open again and tinkered with, only this time by someone who knew what they were doing and not some powerful, mysterious force.
Calder.
Thinking about him made my blood boil. He had been the one to unlock my memories. He had been the one to tell me what my mission at Harrowgate was. It was through his magic that I saw Seline’s face in my mind, I heard her voice reassuring me that what I was being told was true. But how could it have been true if they didn’t even know where I was?
I didn’t know what to think anymore, or what to do. I certainly didn’t know who I could trust. How could I believe anyone’s word if I couldn’t trust my own memories?
That night, I demanded the Horseman send me into the hole and leave me there until I was ready to come back out. He didn’t understand. He kept asking questions, and the more he asked, the more I screamed at him. It was like I was wrapped up in some kind of frenzy, not able to fully control my voice, my emotions, or my actions.
Eventually, he caved and gave me what I wanted. He personally escorted me to the hole and locked me in a room by myself. The passing of time meant little to me. I was fed and checked in on, but I didn’t want to talk to anyone, or see anyone. I wanted to be with my thoughts, and only my thoughts, like a person with a fever who wants nothing more than to keep wrapping up.
I had made the hole my own place, my own haven. I had to admit, I was starting to understand why Azlu liked it in there so much. It was dark, and cold, and smelly, but if you could get past that, it was also safe. In here there was no Knives to worry about, no Crimson Hunters, and no Horseman—only the ghosts of memories, false and true.
Possibly literal ghosts, too, from what I had heard.
I stared at my hands in the dark. They were dirty, my nails were filthy too, as was the rest of me, but none of that mattered compared to the safety of the hole I was in. The box. The shoe. If Seline really was coming for me, like she said she would be, then I was in the best place possible. This was where I would wait for her.
The hairs on my arms stood on their ends as the temperature in the hole suddenly plunged. I watched goosebumps ripple across my flesh, and even in the pitch darkness of the hole, I saw my own breath manifest in little clouds around my lips. I stiffened, pressing my back against the wall and planting my palms against the cold, hard ground.
Something heavy slammed against the door to the cell, sending a shudder ripping through my body. I scrambled to get to my feet, my heart pounding against my chest. I tried to breathe, but my throat wouldn’t work to inhale or exhale. I could feel it constricting, as if a hand had clamped around it and started squeezing, slowly.
Another slam against the door made my chest rattle like it was filled with marbles. I clawed my way across the wall, searching for a corner and for a single gasp of air, but finding neither. Something was growling on the other side of the door, snarling and smashing into it like it wanted to tear the thing off its hinges.
I could feel my vision darkening around the edges, the world fading to a vignette as the thing attacked the door, relentlessly, only to finally stop for a long, breathless moment. I watched, my heart pounding, my skin vibrating, then I heard its sharp nails scraping against the door’s metal exterior… and finally, the turning of a lock.
The door opened, flooding the cell with light. I shielded my eyes from it, finally succeeding in taking a breath only to let it almost instantly peel out of my mouth in a harsh shriek.
“It’s okay!” Sanchez said as she hurried toward me. “It’s okay, you’re alright.”
I didn’t want her touching me, but I didn’t seem to have the strength to bat her away. She managed to turn me around and press me against the wall, but instead of cuffing me, she grabbed my shoulders and whispered for me to breathe slowly, in through the nose, and out through the mouth.
She didn’t stop until my breathing and heartrate finally settled into something like a normal rhythm, until I had come down almost completely. I shrugged my shoulders, and Sanchez pulled away to a safe distance. Slowly, I turned around to look at her as my eyes adjusted to the new ambient level of light.
“You okay?” she asked. The light glinted off the handcuffs she had in her hands.
“I’m fine,” I said, my voice hoarse from disuse, and a little shaky from fear, “Why are you in here?”
“Because it’s time to go.”
“Go? Go where?”
“Back to your cell, unless you like it in here?”
I stared at her, my eyes low, my voice a little lower. “What if I do?”
“There’s only one other girl who likes it in here, and you aren’t her.” She lifted the handcuffs. “Anyway, staying here isn’t an option anymore.”
“It’s not?”
Sanchez shook her head. “The hole is off limits. All inmates are to report back to their cellblocks, Warden’s orders.”
“The Warden… can you tell me why?”
She sighed. “I really can’t. Just know that, for once, it’s for your own good.”
“You’ll forgive me if I have a hard time believing anything that happens in here is for my own good.”
“Trust me, I understand, but I have orders.”
I glanced at the handcuffs. “Are those necessary?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Frowning, I placed my hands behind my back and turned around again. Sanchez carefully applied the cuffs to my wrists, pinching them shut but not pressing them so tightly against my skin that they’d cause discomfort. Sanchez was one of the good ones; one of the few good ones in this entire place.
I allowed her to escort me out of the hole, one hand on my shoulder, another hand on her baton. She didn’t take me directly back to the cellblock. We made a stop off at the showers, which were empty. There, I was allowed a moment to clean myself up and given a fresh set of clothes to wear before I was taken the rest of the way back to D-Block.