54
Rachel
There were dozens, even hundreds, of them, a mob, all wearing the same blue outfits, all crying out to the others. Their screams were like a thousand birds. Each time I thought the last had approached me, another appeared. They came closer, closer. Their movements were regular, almost robotic, their gazes fixed and glassy, as if they might be blind. Then, I remembered what Mama said about the drug, the rhapsody. They must have been drugged. This must be what it looked like. Did they mean to kill me, tear me limb from limb? Above me on the stairs was the man, who I knew meant me harm. Below were these people. I did not know what they wanted. The only protection I had was my hair, mostly unraveled, hanging behind me in a loosened braid, and the key—I knew not its purpose—which I still clutched in my hand. All around the room, I heard them murmuring, saying something about golden hair. Holding their hands up as if they would tear me to bits.
A woman approached me first. At a point about ten feet away, she stopped walking. What did she mean to do? I saw that her eyes were the same shade of blue as her clothing, an almost inhuman shade, the same color as the flowering plants that hung from the ceiling. Like the others, her eyes appeared foggy, as if she was not sure what she was seeing. I remembered my strength. I could fight her off if she tried to harm me. But I couldn’t fight all of them.
Then, suddenly, she stopped walking. Her eyes focused. On me. She said, “Are you her? Are you the daughter of Danielle?”
The question surprised me, as did my answer. I had never known my mother’s name before today, but now, it seemed obvious, inevitable. I had no choice but to tell the truth, whatever the consequences.
“Yes.” I stood taller. “I am her. I am Rachel.”
A cry came up from the woman and from a few others who were close enough to hear. “It is her!” they said. Others, farther back, heard what she said and took up the cry, and soon, the whole room was buzzing, chanting, drumming, saying, “It is her! It is the daughter!” They all came closer, and my fears melted. They did not mean me harm. If anything, they were welcoming me like a queen.
Suddenly, I felt a hand upon me, on my neck, clutching me. It was the man, the man who had pursued me. He had me. “You’re not getting away that easy.” He whistled to three men standing behind him. They grabbed me.
I struggled against them, but I was outnumbered. Then, more came to the aid of their friends. They grabbed my hair and pulled it hard. I was knocked to the ground, and the men were above me, tying my hair around me. I kicked and struggled against them.
And then, they were lifted away from me. The mob, women and some men, were grabbing them, holding them. Even as they struggled, more and more of them came to join them.
“We will help you,” said the women who had first spoken to me. “We will try, but they are stronger.”
“Why?”
“We have been here longer than they have. We are already beginning to die. What helps them kills us.”
“Kills? Did she mean the Fox brothers?” But there was no time for conversation. They were helping me, that much was clear. But just holding the others at bay wasn’t enough. There was something I was supposed to do. I didn’t know what. Also, I had to find Wyatt.
The woman who had first approached me said, “You are the girl, the girl we have been waiting for. We had heard you were coming. We knew, when you were seventeen, you would come to save us all.”
I stepped backward, shocked. “But how? How did you know about me? I didn’t know about you, about anything, until today.”
A woman broke from the crowd. She was slight, smaller than me or even Mama, and she had blond hair like mine. “It is foretold that the seventeen-year-old girl, daughter of Danielle Greenwood, would come to help us, would destroy the rhapsody that has enslaved us for so many years.”
I had figured out that much. But I said, “How do you know this?”
“When you were a baby, you were captured. You were taken to be killed. But you were not killed. Someone brought you to your grandmother’s house and told her to hide you away. That person was me.”
I gasped. Many behind her gasped as well. Some who had fought against me tried to break free. Those holding them renewed their grip, but it was obvious it was difficult. Some others joined them, all holding Carl and the others at bay.
I became aware of the scent in the air. Like flowers Mama brought to me at the beginning of spring. Then, I realized it was the rhapsody. Was it hypnotic, having an effect on me? I felt almost dazed.
But I fought against the feeling. I must find out what I should do. I must save Wyatt.
“Where is Wyatt?” I asked.
The woman looked confused, then turned to the woman behind her. All stared at one another. They didn’t know.
Aloud, I said, “Wyatt, where are you? I am here, in the rhapsody room. I did not see a room by the stair.”
Then, I looked around. There were more staircases, three, four, five, some going nowhere, others going up to trap doors like the one I had entered through. He could be by any of them.
“Will you help me find him?” I asked the woman.
She shook her head. “You must help us first. You must. Do you not see, they have been depleting our town, this area, for decades. You were our hope, our only hope. That is why Zach made sure Danielle would have the baby, to save us. And we have waited seventeen, almost eighteen, long years.”
In my head, I heard Wyatt’s voice say, “I’m all right, Rachel. I’m okay.”
I felt so tired. The scent of the rhapsody was having an effect on me. It made me feel first tired, then exhilarated. I touched a vine and I wondered how it would be to eat one tiny bit. But with my newfound strength, I fought against it. “What must I do?”
The yellow-haired woman, who appeared dazed as well, said, “When I brought you to your grandmother, I brought something else. Do you know what it was?”
I felt the key in my hand. “I think so.” I held it up. The yellow-haired woman smiled and nodded. “But what is the meaning of it? And how did you get it?”
“I stole it, the night I took you to your grandmother. I stole it from Henry, for he was softer than Carl. With this key, you, and only you, can reach the waterfall that feeds the rhapsody. You will destroy its water supply and the rhapsody will die. We will be free.”
“What? Really?” It sounded far too simple. “Turn a key in a lock, and then, it will all be fixed. Let me at it. Where is the lock?”
The woman shook her head. “No, that’s not all. If it were all, I would have done it myself. There is something else, something only you can do.”
“But what?” I asked.
“I do not know,” she said.
Of course she didn’t. How would she?
“We were told that only you could destroy it.”
I sighed. “And where is this, this lock?” I asked again.
Her eyes, every eye, scanned upward. I looked up too and saw that the ceiling was high above me, high as the staircase I just walked down, higher than my tower. The woman pointed to a sheer wall. At the top of it, there was a platform. Above it, a little door.
“Up there,” she said.
I wanted to say it was impossible. I could not climb such a wall. I had only done so with Wyatt’s help, and this wall was much higher. Only yesterday, I did not return to my tower because I knew I could not do it.
Yet, I remembered my newfound strength, and I wondered if I could. I had to.
I said, “I will try.”