Imagine being stuck in a world where every blade of grass is green, it's all trimmed to the perfect size and every child is well-behaved just as their parents would wish them to be. This is what Hayden Roux has to go through day after day, from beginning to end, but what she doesn't know is she's about to be thrust into an eccentric place, where a very big secret is waiting for her. Her difficult life of being hated by everyone takes an upturn when she finds herself in the midst of White Grover. While trying to fit in at school, she has the big, challenging task of finding the beloved Pearl. Through broken friendships and lost trust, Hayden experiences a journey that she won't soon forget. There's just one simple question: Is she willing to die? Mortals will take you into her world to discover the answer to that very scary question!

Mortals

Hayden Roux ChroniclesBy Bhabika Joshi

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2009 Bhabika Joshi
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4401-5016-6

Chapter One

First Betrayal

The water tapped lightly on the steel sink. The light looked over all from the millions of oil lamps. The suffocating room was still, though, even if it contained thousands of human beings. The murmurs were kept to a minimum, except when a lady walked through. Then they were not to be heard at all.

The majestic lady floated along the top branch of the room and lightly tapped a few citizens. They shivered and bowed down low.

She climbed the constricted stairs stoically. Her coat left her shoulders and revealed a long ball gown. It had sequins and diamonds covering the lace and it was the beautiful and royal, yet plain, color of red.

A golden throne lifted up out of the wooden ground and waited patiently behind the grand lady. It had small carvings, barely big enough to see and only visible after you were staring down. It held high, about six feet and the seat sat at about three.

The lady sat on the throne and stared out at the thousands of people sitting on measly floors before her. Her hands waited by the sides, not moving, but her pulse blared loudly, every inch moving faster than it ever had.

"Lovely evening, isn't it, Flora? Weather-wise."

As she said it, the silence was impressive. Not a muscle moved, that is, until she directed it at a petite woman halfway across the immense room. The petite lady twitched madly, then looked up, revealing large tired gray eyes.

"Yes, Highness," she replied with a terror to her voice.

The crowd looked up at their Highness, awaiting an answer to the one that had just been said.

"And, if I may ask, what have you been doing today, Anatole?"

A young man with a badly bruised face looked up at the call of his name but avoided looking at the Highness.

"Your majesty, nothing important. I have just been doing my work, you know, at the post office."

He looked around at his comrades, quickly stirred a look at the highness, and then covered his bruised face once more, afraid of what he might hear.

"Quite charming. Yes. Then explain to me why, when you arrived here, you came from the east? I was so clearly sure that your office was west of this charming little place?"

"Well, majesty, now -

His plead for her to understanding him was broken off by a pierced scream coming from the center of the crowd. Flora, the woman who had spoken a few minutes earlier was withering in the crowd as her face held lines of superfluous blood. Her companions covered her with a blanket and pushed her away rather harshly than one would expect a friend to do so.

"Please forgive her for the scream, Highness," a companion of Flora's begged.

"For the scream I will forgive her, for it was partly my fault. I had ordered the knife, but she ordered her own side of mistakes," she said, now facing slowly at Anatole. "You would not like that to happen to you, too?" she said, pointing a long finger at the blanket containing Flora inside.

"No, Majesty! Of course not!"

"Ahh ... as I thought so very well myself. Now, tell me where you really were this whole day."

Anatole looked nervously at his comrades again, as if hoping to get answers from them. His eyes were scared, as if those pupils knew what was coming. His body shook violently on the dark and musty floor.

"I was at work," he squeaked silently and closed his eyes in dear hope.

"So you've decided to lie to me once again. I thought you amongst the loyal, but I should have known better than to have thought that."

She took out a small jagged knife and touched it with her hands. Anatole's scream was louder than Flora's. And he did not wither like Flora, either. He simply screamed once, loud and serrated, then all knew what had just happened.

At the far right corner, a large group of outsized men roared into laughter. The mirth continued to make its way around the crowd, firing up the hefty assembly of people.

The Highness stood up and held up a hand. Everyone abruptly silenced and looked down, afraid of what the terror would be to come.

"Silence!" she rolled the word out, so everyone present could get the full meaning. "I will not have anymore of your foolishness!"

Her scream echoed loudly as she walked along the stage. She turned the faucet shut from the sink, for it still pattered lightly. Her long hands reached into her dress and pulled out a newspaper clipping.

"Now, before my summoning to you, I faltered upon a very, very, amusing article. It said something about a subject I have been waiting an extremely long time for. An extremely long time."

A shiver ran through the crowd. Now they understood why their Queen had brought all of them at once. Or at least all she could gather.

"This article is more loyal than all of you put together! Now, isn't that amazing?"

She looked around at the crowd with disrespect etched in every inch of her fragile body. Her hands formed a fist and her face was the amazing royal - another royal - color of purple. It matched her dress very well.

"You!" she said pointing a finger at an older man. "Are my eyes blind or is your appearance true?" She cackled.

"Are you not the victim of the government that needed bailing out for the hundredth instance this lifetime?"

The man feebly shook his head, a nod and shrug all in one. "Y-yes, ma'm."

"But you decided not to help me? All of you knew, didn't you? Every single one of you knew it had happened the minute it had occurred. The girl was born early this morning, and I just got warned that she was born - by a newspaper! I would have thought better of all of you!"

She looked around again and spit on the wooden floor. "Now, I could easily kill every single one of you, but I decided that it would be better if I gave everyone a second chance. I'm sure none of you will want to wither away like Flora and Anatole, who also I gave a second chance to."

She looked at Flora's blanket, which had stopped moving, making it obvious what had happened to her. Anatole's body was beside Flora's and still for once and all.

"To fully gain my confidence in you - actually that will not happen - but at least a little confidence, you must follow the exact directions I lay for you.

"We will take the Chamber to White Grover, where the child should be. Bombs should be immediately blasted, but harm a hair on that child and you will wish you had never been born. Whoever finds the child first must bring her straight to me. You should not consider anything other than this mission tonight. We shall not remain anonymous; we shall show our victory like we've won before we even have started. To say the truth, this battle began long before the battle cry."

* * *

Five hours ago:

Pandora ambled fluidly back to her state of mind. The stress and anxiety she had been put under lately had gotten to her. Her heaps of specialized victims had grown over the last few years. The thoughts of torture and injustice she had long since had in her mind were quickly running out of ideas, and Pandora was being forced to use the same punishment twice.

The train thundered above her as Pandora sliced through the underground woven haven she had created for herself. Bits and chunks of mud rustled with quaking fear as the train came to a nudging stop.

Pandora climbed up the ladder as a blast of sunshine shone on her face, and she was struck with rush hour traffic.

She caressed the long wooden door in front of her, before finally having enough nerve to knock on it. A brief yelp escaped and shuffling was inanimately drawn. A muffled groan was cast out.

"Who is it?" Grumbles followed after the shortly livened statement.

Pandora's brain surfaced a list of names she could use for today's showing. A simple name would show the Pandora to the victim as being a shy, lonesome girl who needed to work endless hours for money.

"Emma." Perfect.

And now for the weapon. She had remembered to carry a minute pocketknife on her daily hunt this morning. Pandora only desired to read the news, so she would gain no favor with killing the poor man with utmost disrespect. But she had no intentions on doing the murder with luxe preservations. It would be a quick stab and all would be officially over.

"Emma?"

"Yes, the maid. You hired me last week."

"I did?"

No good ever came from disobeying customers. Pandora failed to realize why the man couldn't just play along and die peacefully. Maybe she would have to rethink her position on the deluxe death.

"Yes, Sir."

Pandora could hear small clinking coming from the door. It seemed the man was finally giving in.

He opened the door with a pale perplexed look on his face. Tufts of unshaved hair loomed below his drooping eyes, those eyes trying to follow where Pandora was coming from. Sooner or later, he would be able to figure out the answer to his enigma.

Pandora shot a quick look around at the bachelor pad. It was a perfect ploy. What a single man required most in his house was a maid, and there she was, Emma the maid.

She stepped into grimy abode and acted as if she really were here to clean up this place for him. Pandora slipped on the gloves. Her eyes wandered over to the newspaper by the lamp. She glanced at the man scurrying over to make himself coffee.

"How long before this place is cleaned up?" He burrowed his eyes as if getting his house cleaned up was the biggest worry in his mind.

"Sooner than you'll expect."

Pandora seized the moment to finger her knife. The delicate balance between life and death was hanging on the man's shoulders. She stealthily took out her mini scythe and brushed over to the man.

Holding her breath, she injected the weapon deep underneath the man's soul. He gasped for his last breath, his eyes wide with torment.

"Why?" he struggled out.

"So that there will be one less perfect human being on the planet."

* * *

She left the man in his own pool of blood and sauntered to the newspaper, wiping the remaining evidence on the man's brand new sofa. Bold faces and scripts announced the beginning of poetry season and the grand arrival of the Chamber, a small object that could take you anywhere you want, as long as there were some restrictions.

Pandora flipped past the sports and weather page. There was not much news except a recurring feature on Princess Eilis's growing baby. Pandora groaned with a sigh of frustration. Everyone knew she was having a baby, but when?

She glanced at the date in the upper left column. May 23. What day was today? Twenty-third? Twenty-fourth? Twenty-fifth? She reeled her mind back. If Sunday was the twentieth and Monday was the twenty-first, and today was Thursday, then May the twenty-third had to be on a Wednesday. And that clearly presumes that this day, Thursday, was actually May the twenty-fourth and this newspaper was not as current as it stated.

Pandora flung the paper aside and searched her eyes for the most modern artifact of news. She could have waited for her followers to give her word, and she knew she trusted them alone enough for them to let her know when the baby was know. But the news was too important to let go without a passing glance. She needed to know. She needed to know now.

A small trinket of white furred from the edge of the couch. Pandora hustled, knocking the lamp and her sense to the dark hole, way out of reach from where she was now. Her hands grabbed the newspaper before her mind even told her to and studied the date. May 24.

Her eyes skimmed the page, a neat arrow of sweat forming at the corner of her eyes, giving any other unintended viewer a wisdom that she was crying. She caught herself at the middle of the page before continuing on.

Sir Neitm & His Great Granddaughter

The whispers had followed her like a venom snake, seeking to reach its potential until it finally gave out. So they weren't lying then, the people walking above her haven. The ones that talked about the baby finally being born. The child was finally here, ready to leave sooner than later, with compliments of Pandora.

Her joy suddenly became overcastted with a grim thought. How could her supporters not have told her this? The baby was born at seven twenty-four in the morning and it was almost ten.

She rushed to her Chamber and scrolled a message with hatred. She would try hard for them not to ruin anything, but much could not be promised since so much had already happened.

Pandora flitted from the room, ready to kill more than one person on the twenty-fourth of May.

* * *

The lights were up and blooming on the fifth street in a village by the name of White Grover. White Grover was an enchanting place. It snowed there through all seasons and in the midst of June and July was when it snowed the most. As soon as you stepped even an eighth of a centimeter away from White Grover, you would immediately stop feeling snow on your back. It was quite a sight to look at, White Grover. Around December, it didn't snow as much, but the charm of it didn't ever leave this sanctuary.

Murmurs fled from one mortal to the next, all of them repeating the same indulging story. Hysteric cries broke out every moment or so. This was quite a day, mainly because someone very important to White Grover had been born. All the villagers were happily celebrating, shouting out remarks every few seconds. The people outside White Grover could hear some comments, such as,

"It true, Greg! The Leader has a great granddaughter now!"

Or perhaps,

"Emeli! She looks beautiful! Just saw her across the gate. Wonderful little chap, too!"

The villagers of White Grove were quite charming themselves. All of them treated each other with the finest respect possible - or at least most of them. Like every other village in the world, White Grover was not full of nice people. There were people that were ripe from the beginning, but White Grove was such a large village that anyone hardly had time to pay attention to the ripe bananas. That was, unless, the ripe bananas were stirring trouble.

But this day, no one paid attention to anything other than the newborn great granddaughter of the Great Sir. Every one had gathered around the gates to take a long lasting look at the beautiful child.

"Oh my! That sure is a fantabulous sight!"

The little child stirred for a while. Everybody gasped and watched with wide eyes. Then without notice, the child started crying and punching her little fist into the air.

The crying was almost unbearable for the crowd. Some of them were teary eyed and others were slowing moving away, too heartbroken to look at the baby.

One of the guards hushed away the remaining people and the baby was escorted inside, along with the famous great grandfather and her Highness, the great grandmother.

"Are you sure you are doing the right thing?" the great grandmother asked. She was a plump woman with large beady eyes. Her long silver satin dress was decorated with small diamonds. Her long golden hair was braided carefully and thrown out on her back.

"I am certain that this is how things were meant to be," the great grandfather replied with unease to his voice. He was quite taller than his wife and he did not seem to have aged as much as her.

"But Eilis. She agreed to this?"

"With much difficulty. You know she can be attached to things sometimes."

"Yes. But what about the boy?"

"The boy can stay with Eilis. He has a rather important role, but the girl's future holds something a bit more." He looked around again, as if afraid of the large room he was in.

"Are you sure this wall can keep this a secret?" he added, "It seems to me it's made of glass."

"It can, and the wall is made to look like glass. It's simply cement."

The man walked across the floor and examined the wall. He ran his hands through several times and finally seemed to be satisfied.

"Yes, it is cement. Now, about the girl.

"She has the family she can go to. I have arranged well with them. Of course they didn't understand much, but they needn't. I have their brains functioning well."

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Mortals by Bhabika Joshi Copyright © 2009 by Bhabika Joshi. Excerpted by permission.
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