Human (The One-Hundred #6)

By K. Weikel

Cressa-la, now separated from her missing body, can feel the darkness penetrating deeper into her subconscious as exhaustion weights her down. If she falls asleep, she'll succumb to death, but if she continues to fight against evil, fatigue will crush her into powder.

Just like the moon, Cressa-la has a dark side too--a side she's going to have to face if she wants to protect everyone she loves. Is she strong enough to take on the fight behind the veil with her own two hands, or will her light forever disappear from the face of the earth?

Book 6 in The One-Hundred Series by K. Weikel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K. Weikel Publishing
• Release date: Jul 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463214183

K. Weikel

K. Weikel uses her three-dimensional characters to tell stories of life and adventure and magic."The One-Hundred" won the Wattys Award in 2015 and has reached over two million reads. Weikel has also won the 2017 Writers Awards for Building Monsters. She has written 60 books, including her first manga, "Katharsis". To learn more, visit her website: http://www.kweikel.comSERIES:Underdogs (4)Replay (13)Katharsis (1)The One-Hundred (6 Books, 1 Short Story, 1 Novella)The Haunted Mansion (4)The Blood Room [3 Alternate Endings]TRILOGIES:Dead MenMaskless TrilogyTrapped TrilogyCOMING SOON (1)DUOLOGIES:The Unnamed DuologyStop; GoSTAND-ALONES:WaterloggedThrough the Dimension of NightmaresWhen the Sky EatsCreatures of the BelowNord and the BordSamenessBuilding MonstersDollhouseThe Vampire's CarnivalKrystal's WorldLabyrinthFiguresMatchCagedList X

Book preview

CHAPTER 2

It’s easy for me to slip past the guards in Sivoli; they can’t see me. If I make it through this, I want to bring Tamir back to his family so he can see them again. I want to imagine they left off on good terms, but I can’t help but worry, especially since I feel like I was selfish for leaving him behind. He had to be going through at least a fraction of what I had, only he wasn’t looking for approval from his parents like I was. It was the other way around as they embraced him and smiled in his presence. He was the one rejecting them, just as he believed they had done to him at birth.

My chest aches at the thought of Tamir, at the memories of four years ago, at Tamir’s story and testimony. There are so many things I could have done differently, so many moments I believed others when I shouldn’t have, and times I didn’t trust when I should have. Everything seemed to happen so fast and pile up so quickly... but I guess that’s what happens when you’re threaded in with an impending disaster.

I was ruled by emotions and stuck in my head, pulled in both directions until I was weak. I grew too attached and too fond of the boys that seemed to shape my future, getting too close to the flame and finding myself burned as I called to them for assistance. My strength is running thin and my floodgates are crumbling, but I can’t give up until I’ve breathed my last breath, and, apparently, I haven’t just yet. Wherever it is I’ve landed, there’s got to be a way out. If there wasn’t the merman wouldn’t have heard me, wouldn’t have called me to him.

I fiddle with the ring around my thumb. Mariana said it wasn’t supposed to follow me into this world. Morgiana said the necklace wasn’t supposed to, either. I wonder if it would still work—if Damian would hear it and know I’m okay. Well, maybe he wouldn’t think I was okay because I was only supposed to blow it when I needed him. Right now, I don’t think he’s in any position to come to my rescue. He wouldn’t even see me...

But it could be worth a try.

I sink to the ground below, my back against a wall as I hide myself in a crevice between two kiosks selling food—as if people could see me. To me, the merpeople food looks unappetizing, but I’m so used to seeing things like squirrel carcasses for food (which actually started looking good once Lily-flor decided to try perfecting her cooking on fish), that my pallet doesn’t feel like being open to new things, especially when my stomach feels sick to its core.

I lift the small conch to my lips and give it one slow, long blow. To my surprise, there’s a sound coming from it: a low, guttural bellow no louder than a whisper.

I don’t know what I expected. I guess I didn’t think it would work.

Pulling it away, I stare at its green-tinted shell, absolutely sure that wasn’t its color before entering this place, and tuck it back into my shirt. There’s a still silence as I rest, watching the world around me swell with people. Everyone’s headed to their jobs, their schools... Everything glistens in the growing light.

There’s a pressure applied to both of my temples, as if someone is pressing against them. Did Damian hear me? Is he trying to reach me?

I remember when Dametria’s essence was standing before Damian and she told him she couldn’t hear his thoughts. He was apologizing, telling her how he felt, but no words reached her and none would. His vocal chords had been ripped out.

She knew he was trying to communicate with her... is this the reason why? Because she felt pressure against her temples?

Could Damian hear my words?

Damian, please tell me you can hear me.

Silence. Even the pressing stops.

I try reaching out to Tamir.

Tamir, can you hear me?

Lily?

I bury my face in my hands. Even if they could, there’s no way to communicate with me. I can’t hear their thoughts.

But if they can hear mine...

I blow on the conch once more, just in case Damian is skeptical. Tamir, Lily, and Damian all have a bit of my powers inside of them, so maybe there’s a loophole to this entire thing. Maybe I don’t have to be alone in this journey.

The pit in my stomach tells me otherwise.

I’m alive, I press outward to them, feeling my attempts are futile, but I can’t help it. I will be back.

I rest for another moment, suddenly exhausted, the squeezing returning. It’s so strange how everything’s been turned around and become so complicated. My enemy’s become my possible saving grace, a boy I’d forgotten I knew is my husband, the little girl I looked after is now my daughter, a boy I’d grown up with was apparently my older brother, the woman who took care of Tamir turned out to be the twin sister of the woman who took care of Damian... the list goes on and on and I wonder if it’ll ever end. I’m stuck in a never-ending tangled tree and I’m unsure of when it’ll stop knotting around itself.

I let several minutes pass, tiredness weighing on me. It feels like I haven’t slept in days. My eyes shut as the commotion in the waterways dissipates, telling myself I’ll get up in just a minute.

Unconsciousness takes me.

The world is black, not a single thing making a sound. I stand in the midst of it, feet submerged only enough to get the tops of my toes wet. The water beneath me reflects the black world and I am void of the reflection. It doesn’t even ripple where I interrupt the surface.

Panic sets in.

It isn’t from where I am or what’s happening, it just happens to weave across my sternum like a spindly beast from the depths of the underworld, chuckling as it coats my muscles. The spots on my arms and legs begin to glow, my white hair following suit as it comes to life around me. The darkness suddenly pulls away, sounds like tiny screams and hisses reaching my ears. A sense of space I hadn’t realized I’d been missing reaches around me and into the water, my light brightening everything. In the water below, I am now reflected, shorts and top made of tanned hide with a trail of scales covering my calves and the tops of my feet. I watch as some fish swim beneath me in a school, shiny and almost transparent. It’s so serene compared to the panic taking my breath away.

All Ones are evil.

The whisper passes by me in a rush, making my hairs stand on end.

The darkness still lingers inside you.

The second whisper in Morgiana’s voice seems to rip through me as blackness tries to impose on the light I create. I gasp for air.

WATCH YOUR BACK, CRESSA-LA.

The third brings me to my knees, water splashing around me as I catch myself. My shins and fingers dip below the water, some kind of pressure keeping me up. Another large fish swims by in a hurry.

I’m just some girl who didn’t care about casualties.

That one makes my skin tingle as I fling the water from my hands, attempting to stand back up. My voice.

We should have gotten rid of you as soon as we knew what you were.

My father’s.

Why am I hearing all this?

DON’T TOUCH THE WATER.

Several familiar voices knock me back on my butt, something shattering the surface from underneath where I was just standing. A gray and white beast twice my size plummets into the air, water spraying everywhere as if it wasn’t actually an inch deep. Its black eyes blend in with the darkness surrounding us, catching on me as it reaches its point of potential energy, just before it crashes back into the water, its red-stained, jagged teeth seeming to glow in the darkness. A large wave reaches up as I force my hand out, reminiscent to the tsunami that started this, and will it to freeze. Crackling sounds reverberate all around me as my glow brightens. I shiver as the water on my skin cools, and I lower my hand.

IT WILL FIGHT YOU FOR DOMINANCE.

The wave defrosts and collapses onto me, taking the air from my lungs as my gills open up. I’m shoved beneath the surface, several fish bumping into me. Their scaly bodies send pangs of disgust through me as the bubbles disperse and my eyes adjust to see clearly through the water.

It will devour you.

The shark opens its mouth and clamps around my waist.

CHAPTER 3

I jerk awake, my entire body feeling hot. People fill the streets as the sun starts to disappear. How long had I been unconscious?

Pushing the dream from my mind, I shove myself upward and rush through the town. I’m not sure how far I can swim without growing tired, but I know it’s a good distance, thinking back to how much we traveled the past few days. Days? It couldn’t be just yesterday that this problem had spawned from. How many days had it been since this entire thing started? A week? More?

People pass through me, my body spinning into a wet mist as they do, talking about the Emperors and things happening in their society I don’t care about. There are bigger fish to fry than what side of politics you’re on.

I grit my teeth as cold swells of water raise the hairs on my arms. I want answers to all that’s going on, both inside and out. If Morgiana won’t talk, even though she’s somehow attached to me, then hopefully the merman will know something. It’s strange to think a being that’s only been alive for two years would be able to help someone like me.

Another hour and I take a rest between a dip where a coral reef has flourished. I touch the sand below in amazement. This used to be a mountain, standing higher than anything else on this planet. What was life like back then, and was the mountain habitable? If not, would they try and scale its massive height?

The knowledge the library gave me is limited on the past, especially the knowledge on things before the Flood. I’m still curious as to what type of fish I have running through my veins; I don’t think we’d be cyclothones. I swear we’re more like salt-water guppies or something along those lines. I wonder if the merman knows that answer to that too. I’m sure he doesn’t; if the library didn’t have the information about it, I’m almost certain he wouldn’t either.

But does that say the same about my condition?

I’ve ruled out that I’m an essence. I can touch and feel things and move them around, unlike the end-moment spirits. From what I’ve come to understand, being in essence form isn’t necessarily the person, it’s more like the persona of them, which is why it’s called an essence. It’d be like a written letter or transmission responding to how they believe the people listening will react. Both types of essence work that way, whether it’s sent by death or magic, only the one triggered by death is the only one that can be sent once.

My mind moves to my mother and the strange moment she chose to send hers to me. According to my knowledge, an essence can be sent when something is triggered in the person it’s chosen to go to, even the essences that aren’t because of death.

I glance upward to the surface way above, feeling the pressure of the water as it finds balance both inside and outside of my body. If I had learned to shapeshift, would this journey be any shorter to find the merman? I’m still about ten hours away from the trenches and the waters are growing cooler as the moon rises. At one time I felt its pull like a magnet. Now it doesn’t seem to touch me at all.

Ever since the eclipse, there have been no comments about the moon’s pull and no complaints about it forcing people into the water. The only time I felt this after defeating Damian was when the fog covered our island and nearly suffocated me. If I hadn’t have gone outside, would the situations that arose from its doing and my knowing of it have been worsened?

Deciding I’ve rested enough, I lift off the reef, startling a few fish passing by. A bonnet-head shark passes over me, majestic in the dark night. They have to keep moving, to constantly keep water rushing over their gills or they’ll suffocate.

Their gills aren’t like mine or like most fish’s. The muscles don’t automatically filter water and they have to have it moving over their gills to keep ‘breathing’. Tiger sharks are a different story, however.

I watch the bonnet-head pass slowly, taking its time. Some part of me wants to reach out and touch its slick skin, to feel the majestic power it radiates without sin blemishing its lifespan, but I restrain, keeping my distance to only watch until it fades away.

Sleep only weighs on me slightly as fatigue forces it to the surface. I’ve not grown hungry, but I’m unsure of what I could eat in this situation. Would I be able to eat?

I count off the nocturnal fish I see to keep my brain preoccupied. I’m almost near my father’s city, and am very tempted to go in and see what he does when no one’s around, but pull from it. If I did, would I like what I saw? What I heard?

I find myself stopping at the edge, perfectly parallel with its back border. He’d be sleeping, right? It’s late, isn’t it?

My brain tells me that it, in fact, isn’t as late as I wish it was. It’s only two hours after sunset. On the islands back then, everyone would be sleeping, safe from the moon. Underwater, life has a different pace.

And meaning.

A soft blue glow sifts around my figure as I lift my finger to the conch, twisting it between my fingers nervously. Wouldn’t it be immoral to spy on those that don’t know you’re there? Wouldn’t it be a terrible thing to do? I could go, see why he won’t accept me.

Could I see why? Would he accidentally show it?

But... I have something I need to do.

Besides... I already know why he hates me. My mother...

My heart pumps rapidly in my chest as my throat tightens.

But...

Before I can stop myself, I pass the border and into the darkened waterways. Loud laughter and creepy whispers reach my ears. I remind myself no one can see me. I’ll be safe, even though this is supposedly the most violent city. I just need to get to the castle and then I can leave. Like I said, no one can harm nor see me in this state.

I take a deep breath and push my hands out before me, helping me push through the water quicker. I don’t remember these places being this creepy last time. However, it was also daylight.

Something slams into me, warm and hard and moving.

The rough voice utters a drunken chuckle and an Excuse me.

I turn to take a look at who had run into me and fall upon a familiar face.

‘Do I know you?’ she asks me.

She asks me.

CHAPTER 4

‘M... me?’ I stammer, taken aback.

Her deep brown eyes are glassy-looking, blueish skin seeming to glow in the light energy attached to some of the houses. Short, dark blue hair tangles in her fingers as she shoves it away, blinking slowly.

‘Who else would I be talking to, girl?’ she spits in a slur, her small mouth tugged into a frown. ‘You’re more clueless than my son.’

Someone calls out to her as my throat restricts. I know why she looks so familiar. She has the same long tail and same face shape. The same nose, the same hair. I’d seen her once before, when Anahita handed her over to Friedrick. ‘You’re Kamier-na’s— His—’

I can’t find the words.

She cackles in amusement at my confusion.

‘Let’s go!’ someone shouts down further in the alleyway. A sleazy-looking man peeks past the corner. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m in a conversation,’ she shouts, slurring and almost tipping over. Her long tail struggles to correct her change in balance, slamming against a wall. A few scales drift off into the water.

She says nothing about it.

‘With who?’

‘None of your business,’ she screeches to the man, turning almost completely around to face him. Her hair parts and I can see her neck and gills, several fresh pinpricks pulling blood to the surface of her skin. Down her arm are a few more, creating purple spots on her already dark pigment. My eyes flick up to her face. What is she doing?

‘What are those wounds?’ I ask her, confident the other guy can’t see me as he disappears around the corner once again. ‘Did something sting you?’

She laughs. ‘Not at all. You’re his half-sister, aren’t you? The one Kaerius always obsessed over?’

‘Kaerius?’

She rolls her eyes, scratching at the pin-prick wounds. ‘The king. What was your name again?’

I swallow back my pride. This is the first time I’ve heard my father’s name. Kaerius.

‘He figured he could shut me up this way,’ she says, her scratching hand moving to her neck. She laughs. ‘He was right.’

‘What way?’

Her eyes lock on mine, pupils dilating as excitement becomes tangible on her. She visibly shakes.

‘Antimagic,’ she whispers, lifting up her hand. A ball of magenta, the same color as Friedrick’s appears, flickering. Small pieces of black drift within the color, but something about it is different than what I’ve seen. Instead of spots (or strands, in my case), they create vein-like patterns in the shape of a sphere, as if it is containing the magic rather than mixing with it. If she has antimagic in her system, then why didn’t the cuffs react how they did to me back in Anahita’s castle? And how did this woman get back into Murlan without being struck down by the guards?

‘What is it doing?’ I ask as the veins pulsate and her magenta glow continues to fade in and out at the center.

‘Making me feel alive,’ she tells me, voice stricken with awe and wonder as she watches the antimagic with widened eyes. Around her face are raised veins, ones that hadn’t been pressing outward before, looking almost black. At her wrists and on the back of her hands, they protrude too. My eyes flit to her small wounds.

‘Are you... injecting yourself with antimagic?’

Her focus breaks from the ball before her and she takes me in, eyes still wide as her smile fades. I can see the gears turning slowly in her head. She giggles like a little girl and boops me on the nose. I’m taken aback by both the action and the strange change in her character. The first time I met her, she was very spiteful and angry, not to mention rude to her son. It’s only been—what? Two days since then? Is this what the antimagic does? Why is it reacting strangely to her magic?

Antimagic seems to mesh with its host’s powers and bend to their will—antimagic coming from the outside, anyway, like when the antimagic in the handcuffs entered into my body. That type of antimagic, however, is only attracted to bodies that have antimagic already in their system. Antimagic formed on the inside, caused by regret and guilt, seems to disfigure and bring its host down, almost like an illness. Technically, if she really is injecting herself with this antimagic, then it should do what it did to me, to her. But it doesn’t appear to have changed her in any way, aside from maybe mentally. I went through agony for my body to accept it. Why is this so different?

‘Do you want some? I’m sure daddy dearest will give it to you for a good price since you’re blood. He’ll probably try to reign you in with it as well.’

‘No, I’m good,’ I tell her, pulling myself away.

‘Why are you looking at me like I’m crazy?’ she demands, her voice slipping into that angry tone I heard her use on Friedrick. ‘If this is what I need to do to stay alive and out of the public’s eye because of one mistake, then this is what I need to do. You’d understand, right? You must have hidden after the Stop. We all blamed you. We all blame you.’ She laughs cruelly, the sound bubbling from the depths of her as if she’s surprised herself with her words. She swims toward me, an inch away. Her body is shaking violently. ‘You—’

She chokes as the veins in her face swell. They turn black and appear all over her body. Even her long tail twitches as I watch in horror. I reach out as if I could do something, but I’m not sure what.

The woman’s hand wraps around her throat and she sinks to the ground below, eyes rolling back into her skull. She shakes violently, a seizure taking her. I panic, forcing myself down to her, and I turn her on her side and lift her hair from her gills to help her breathe. As soon as I touch her skin, she stops jerking around and blood begins to seep from her pores. Within the dense liquid, little spots of black emerge. They rise up into the water for a moment, the calm before the storm. All at once, it seems, they come to life and crash into me. I scream, trying to back away, but they continue to attack me, molding to my skin and coating my flesh with a tar-like consistency. Trying to swipe it off as my glow is snuffed out, it shifts around me.

And then, pain.

It isn’t as terrible as the first time, but I feel the black inkiness sharpen and puncture my body. My own blood mixes with Friedrick’s mom’s and I let out a shout. It absorbs into me, my nerves alight with—not fire—but tingles of excitement. As more and more of it enters my bloodstream, I find the pain becoming pleasurable and I dry-heave, disgusted by my emotions. My white hair surrounds me, entering into my gills and making me choke.

Just like that, everything is still again.

I sink to the sand below, my eyes struggling to focus on Friedrick’s mom’s dead body, all the blood drained from her veins.

CHAPTER 5

The water grows cold as I lay still, hair tickling my throat. I gag on it.

Heave.

Nothing spills from my guts, but I feel water rushing through my system.

I hurl again, still nothing.

Once more.

Blood.

A ton.

Nausea washes over me and I sway, losing my balance. The sand shifts beneath my fingers as my arms nearly give out, but I close my eyes and focus on just breathing.

I guess the truth of the matter is that I really am still alive since I’m breathing and, apparently, bleeding. That’s a good thing, I hope. I clutch the conch at my neck, the only tether I have to the real world and lift it to my lips to blow on it once more. A chill rushes its fingers over my body, making my hairs stand on end and my stomach increasingly queasy. I guess this means my body is still slowly shutting down. Though I may not be dead, I’m certainly close to it.

I really hope the merman guy knows what this is, or at least knows what to do about it.

‘I missed all the fun.’

Morgiana’s voice makes me grit my teeth, the taste of my own stomach acid filling my senses.

‘How’d you kill her?’

A flare of impenetrable anger rushes through me. I find my head whipping around to let my eyes glare into her.

‘What do you want?’ The words barely escape through my clenched jaw. She’s the last person I wanted to see.

She smiles as I grimace.

‘I feel the love, girlie.’ She moves closer to me, the siphons resting just below her chin pushing her forward as they twist around. It seems that would help with a quick getaway. ‘Are you ready to make that deal, yet?’

A grumble escapes my throat. ‘Never.’

She chuckles. ‘Never may be sooner than you think.’

I turn away from her and push myself from the sand, head light and tail heavy. There’s a weight on my chest that wills me to lay down and rest while the instincts in my gut tell me to get away from where I am. Sharks