First World (Walker Saga #1)

Grasping her shoulder, I shook. “Luce ... Lucy ... wake up. We have to get out of here.” My voice echoed.

But she was still, only her deep and rhythmic breathing indicating life.

I had no idea where we’d ended up – in the camouflaged house – or somewhere else. The man probably had my backpack and the stone, which, something told me, was not going to look good as I pleaded our innocence. And besides that, I hadn’t even been its keeper for a day and I’d already lost it. Good job, Abby.

A groan distracted me. Hair brushed my arm as Lucy shifted.

“Luce – get your butt up, sister.” I reached out in the general direction of her shoulder again.

Lights flared in the room.

The brightness forced my eyes closed.

Taking a moment, I re-opened them slower this time. The disorientating black dots disappeared quickly as the room came into focus. I could finally analyze our surroundings. Lucy and I were on a huge bed, covered in a fluffy white throw. A bedroom – furnished simply. A large wooden dresser stood against the wall and a dark brown, high-backed armchair was squashed in the corner.

The reason for the sudden light show was standing in the doorway: the large blond man with a crowded tray perched precariously on his left hand.

We stared in silence.

He broke the moment by stepping into the room and placing the tray on the foot of the bed. He then sat in the armchair.

I jumped as a hand landed on my arm. I looked down to find Lucy staring at me. She was paler than normal and her blue eyes were huge and questioning. I shook my head: stay quiet.

“I suppose neither of you will speak first. So let me begin – why were you attempting to plow through the iso field? You’re lucky you weren’t killed.”

His voice filled the small room and, despite the situation, the accent was still soothing.

I examined his features. They seemed kind, fine laugh lines softening his hard planes, but there was no way I would trust him. Despite a few questionable decisions, I wasn’t a complete idiot.

His calm expression was soon replaced by a stern frown. His brow wrinkled, and the very dark nature of his eyes deepened as he again attempted to question us.

“I need to know what you are doing here. This is a restricted area for all except Royal Guardians, which I assume you’re not.” He looked at us pointedly.

With an annoyed sigh, Lucy pulled herself to a sitting position. She’d actually been quiet longer than I’d expected.

“You’re doing an awful lot of assuming, buddy. You know what they say about people who assume.” She drawled her words.

He looked completely blank-faced while he waited for her to continue.

Lucy looked at me, eyebrows raised. “Apparently he doesn’t know.”

He spluttered a little. “Well, I know you didn’t enter through the screening gates, because you’re without displayed papers. Give me a reason not to throw you straight to the Guardians.”

Something about what he said stirred a memory. Right, the papers thing. Brace had mentioned that too. Glancing down at my hands, I found I was unconsciously twisting them over and over. We were in trouble. Lucy had already spoken, so he knew we weren’t native to this land and we had nothing with which to defend ourselves.

“Say something, Abbs,” Lucy hissed at me.

“What do you recommend that won’t have us thrown to these Guardian people?” I whispered back hotly.

“They’re taking these matters very seriously at the moment. The recent attempt from insurgent groups to infiltrate the palace has everyone on high alert.”

Since I doubted he was just going to open the door and let us leave, we had no choice but to attempt to talk our way out. Before I could follow through with that, a loud rumble from my stomach echoed.

Shhh, I mentally berated my tummy. It appeared to be ready to eat my spleen, judging by the battle noises.

Lucy snorted with laughter, shaking her head.

I threw a haughty glance in her direction. “The food is a huge distraction and it’s sitting right there.” I pointed to the tray, from which tantalizing aromas wafted in my direction.

The man interrupted us again. “I apologize. My questions can wait a few moments. Please eat. You must be starving. You’ve been unconscious for many hours.” He looked thoughtful. “Perhaps you’ll be more inclined to converse once you’re more comfortable.”

Comfortable. Yeah, okay.

I love food, but not even the smell of warm freshly baked bread was enticing enough to forget we were being held prisoner.

Lucy had a different opinion. She dived over me toward the tray. “Out of my way, Abigail,” she muttered on her way past.

I shrugged. “Sorry about that. Love of food wins out over manners.”

Lucy stuck out her tongue but didn’t break stride in her mission to uncover every dish.

“I wouldn’t throw stones, Abigail. Often when I sit next to you at dinner I worry about the safety of my limbs.”