“Ah yes, the Alpha guards. My favorite.”
Leelah is still staring off at the distant tower. “Once a year, at tithe time, the moonflowers bloom on the vines, and when they do, they guide the way to the king’s castle. There is a legend that one day, a beautiful Omega will fight her way up to the palace where he sleeps, and wake him.”
“An Omega? But I thought Omegas were incredibly rare.”
“Yes,” Leelah murmurs. “There may not be any left in the entire kingdom.”
“Well, I guess it sucks to be the king, then. Otherwise, that legend sounds like a lovely reverse Sleeping Beauty type situation.”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“It’s a shame—if this curse does turn out to be as bad as—or a return of—the Red Death, the king would probably have the power to save us.”
I bristle. “Then he should do something. It’s not right that he’s taking tithes and doing nothing to help his people. Someone should go hack down those thorns, and wake him up.”
“Yes,” Leelah intones. “Someone should.” Her eyes return to me, and narrow. “Where did you say you were from again?”
“Far, far away. You might say worlds away. There aren’t many kings left there.” I bite back my commentary on defunct monarchies. Leelah looks suspicious already, and now isn’t the time. “I need to get home to Matron.” I have to ask her if she knows anything about the curse and the cure. She is a healer, after all. “Will you be here tomorrow?”
Leelah looks around and I follow her gaze. People are packing up and leaving the market, their heads bowed and worry lines marring their faces. Across the way, soldiers loom, looking stern as they hurry people along. “I wouldn’t count on it,” she says. “I guess it depends how the curse progresses.”
“The first people to get sick,” I say. “How are they doing now? Have you heard anything?”
She shrugs. “I need to ask around. I’ve been here all morning, as you have.” She thinks for a moment. “On the other hand, that might be good news. I’m pretty sure that, if people had started dying already, I would have found out about it.”
I slide the package of cakes into the pocket of my cloak. “Thanks for these.” Leelah holds out her hand for payment and I drop the coins into her palm. “Stay safe.”
“You too,” she says. “Tell Matron I wish her good health.”
“I will.”
In the short time I was talking to Leelah, the market drained almost empty of people. Those who remain are huddled together, whispering about more people taking ill. The knot of anxiety in my chest grows as I clock the stricken, frightened faces.
I increase my pace, my sense of dread growing with every step. By the time I get home, I don’t care that I’m sweaty. I drop the baskets on the stoop and burst through the front door.
“Ma?” I hold my breath so I can hear her reply.
There is none. She’s not downstairs. But maybe everything’s okay. Maybe she’s just sleeping.
With my heart thudding in my ears, I race up to her bedroom. The door is ajar. Her room is dark and stuffy, the curtains drawn.
“Rose?” she croaks. She sounds bad—even worse than this morning.
With shaking hands, I pull the curtains back to let in some light. Ma is huddled in the center of the bed, under a pile of quilts.
My relief to find her there is instantly dashed when I see the state she’s in. Taking a step closer, I peer at her face and hands.
My heart stops.
Her skin is flushed, her chest rising and falling too rapidly. “Rose,” she whispers, and I take another step towards her. “No, child, stay aw—” She breaks into a wheezing cough, unable to finish her sentence.
When she turns her head to cover her mouth, I see it: the bright scarlet blotch on her otherwise mauve cheekbone. “Oh, fuck.”
I’m dashing down the lane, my cloak flapping behind me. I don’t bother with my hood. Leelah’s cottage is closer to the village than ours, further away from the river. I make a beeline to her front door. If she’s not home, I’ll head back to the market. I have to do something.
I left Ma as comfortable as possible. I made her tea, and brought up every herbal salve and tincture I thought might help. She insisted I put them beside her bed, and then ordered me to leave and bar her bedroom door. Downstairs, I paced until I couldn’t stand it anymore.
Ever since I woke up on this godforsaken planet, Ma has been there for me. She’s clothed me, fed me, promised to help me get home. I have to help her. She has to get better. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.
I’m hot and flustered by the time I reach Leelah’s cottage. Vines have sprouted up in her garden, too, covering her stoop and latticing up her door. What is it with these things? Does no one here own a weed-whacker? I push them out of the way so I can pound on the door. Something crunches underfoot—another greeny-black shoot, covered in thorns.
A growl behind me makes me jump.
I whirl around. An Alpha is standing at Leelah’s gate, glowering at me. He’s the same one who visited Leelah’s booth in the market.
“It’s forbidden to pluck a moonflower,” he booms. I can understand him. My translator chip must be getting better at picking up Alpha speech. Or I’m getting used to it.
“I wasn’t picking flowers.” I was kicking away the thorns.
“The curse has fallen on this house.” He eyeballs me as if looking for any signs of a rash.
I raise my chin, my cheeks burning, but not with embarrassment. With rage. “I need to speak to Leelah.”
The Alpha scowls down at me. I guess he isn’t used to peasants refusing orders. When your muscles are as big as bowling balls, you probably don’t get much backtalk. “You need to leave.”
The wind whips around the corner of the cottage, catching my cloak and making it swirl around me.
The guard inhales, his eyelids fluttering. He looks as though he’s scented something delicious. A sigh creaks out of him.
I duck my head to sniff the corner of my cloak. I smell like I’ve rolled around in a potent body spray, except I haven’t. The scent is emanating from my pores.
The soldier is still looming over me. His pupils are blown, turning his irises black.
I don't have a good feeling about this.
The Alpha sways, taking a step towards me.
“Byrol!” another soldier calls out.
The Alpha named Byrol blinks and straightens. He shakes his head a little. “Go home, little one, and pray the curse doesn’t find you.”
I duck my head and hurry down the side path so I don’t have to pass him. Vines line the way. As soon as I’m out of the soldier’s sight, I kick them aside. I’m so hot, I want to tear off this cloak, Alphas be damned.
Above my head, someone hisses, “Rose!”
It’s Leelah, sticking her head out her cottage window. A scarlet rash is creeping up her bronze skin.
“Oh no. Leelah.” I squeeze between two trimmed bushes to approach the window.
She pulls back. “Don't come any closer.” She turns her head, revealing more of the rash. The Red Death. “The curse has come for me.”