Beyond the Walls

Chapter 4

"What do you want from me?" I ask, directing the conversation myself.

"I want to uncover why you and so many others are naturally immune to the virus that brought the human race to extinction," Mallory says simply. "I want to harness this ability to formulate a cure, a true cure so that we can bring the human race back to the size and power it once was."

"I am just an orphan girl from the Floodgates, Edward. Why do you seem to have paid such careful attention to me?"

"Because you intrigue me, Elle," Mallory muses, leaning in slightly, brows furrowing as he studies me intently.

I blink at him. "Why am I such an intriguing matter to you, Commander?"

"You overthrew the leader of your city, did you not?" Mallory says.

"Well, Lord Sneya is dead now."

"I know." His gaze is unnerving. "How did he die?"

I bite my lip and my hand gravitates to the handle of my dagger. I grip it gently as I gather myself. "It was an arrow by Sneya's son. Although it was not his fault –"

"Sneya's son?" Something flashes across his eyes, too quick to read.

"Yes."

"Who is he?" The words tumble from his tongue so fast that I barely catch them. "Who is Sneya's son?"

"I thought you had the names of every person I took a care for, Edward?"

"Cedric did not disclose that Sneya had a son with me," he mutters, pursing his lips.

"Well, I am not going to disclose who his son is to you," I tell him very matter-of-factly.

Mallory's gaze darkens, his brows pinch together as he glares at me. "I do not think that is very wise, Elizabeth."

"I think you and I do not share the same views on what is wise and what is not," I counter back, sitting taller in my seat.

"However, Elizabeth, I think you are forgetting who you are speaking to." Mallory leans in, clasping his hands together on the desk. "I am the Commander of the Red Movement. You are my subject. Not obeying my wishes could result in severe punishment."

"I am not afraid of you, Commander," I spit.

"That is because you are not quite aware what I am capable of," he snaps back, slamming his fist down on the desk.

The sound reverberates off the walls and I resist the instinct to flinch. I glare instead. "I am not afraid of you," I repeat, my voice steady and strong despite myself.

Mallory's green eyes narrow and his jaw tightens. He stands abruptly. "Follow me, Elizabeth."

He strides to the left of his desk and marches across the room up to a door on the left side. When he realises I did not follow, his head whips around. His cheeks flush. "I said follow me."

I allow a beat to pass, glowering across the room at him. Reluctantly, I force myself to stand. I follow. Edward Mallory leads me through the threshold and down a nondescript corridor where there is another door. Through that door, we arrive in a large cubicle, where there is yet another door. Mallory pauses, turning around.

"What we are about to pass through is perhaps my absolute favourite room in this entire building," he tells me. His eyes glint with a child-like excitement. "Perhaps you will agree with me."

Then without another word, Mallory opens the door and we cross the threshold. At once, a cacophony of melodic whistles fills my ears. Small black birds with glimmers of green, too many to count, flit to and fro above my heads. They dart between the trees, soak in the baths, and peck at the seeds scattered on the ground. We are walking through a large, indoor enclosure. It is the home for these birds.