by Ann Denton
The old men bowed and backed away and she could hear one explaining to another, “First recruit.” The other man's eyes glowed and his hands clapped together, clearly anticipating a romantic interlude. If only it were that easy. She swallowed and turned to face Lowe. But her courage failed her. Instead of asking what she really wanted, she asked the first thing that came to mind.
“Um ... so how long until I get a mission?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Well Alba didn't really explain ...” Mala trailed off. She couldn't look at him. She was so disgusted with herself. Her hands were shaking. You shouldn't be scared. You should be annoyed—angry even.
“Typically, your first mission would come after you completed the first series of espionage lessons and combat lessons, once you've got a handle on melting,” Lowe explained blandly.
"But, what about my ... melting?" she whispered.
Lowe crossed to her quickly. He leaned down and breathed into her hair, so that anyone from a distance would think he was comforting and caressing her. But his whisper was a warning.
"Don't say anything. Until I kiss you during the ceremony, don't say anything. And after that—this is the first time it ever happened. We've never kissed. You did not melt into Blut's mother. You melted to a little girl on the raft. And that's it. Understand?"
"But, why?"
"Because only one Kreis has ever melted the way you do."
That shocked Mala to her core. She blinked. Her heart picked up a bit. So I'm not some freak of nature? There's someone else like me? Someone here can teach me, guide me. "Who? Who is it?"
Lowe placed his hands carefully on her shoulders. His blue eyes were wide as he leaned in. "Klaren—the deranged," he whispered.
Mala sagged into him in shock. Her thoughts flashed back to the hall of statues, and the massive bronze figure that stood desecrated. Her heart fell. No mentor, only a man whose life stood as a pillar of shame in a room full of pride. "That's why you didn't want me to tell people about my melting. You didn't want them to compare me to him."
Lowe shook his head. "No. I didn't want them to kill you on sight."
"What?"
"They might have. You have no idea the reaction Klaren still evokes in most people, Mala. And given the theories out there, given what you do … some people would have thought—will think—you’re his daughter. Some people will equate you with him. And he's evil incarnate in this place."
"I saw the statue."
"The statue doesn't even begin to cover it. The man was brilliant. One of the best Kreis in our history. And with good reason. What he could do—what you can do—you can literally put on the skin of any Erlender you want—"
"Fat chance of that. I have no idea what I'm doing."
"Once we figure it out, you will. I already talked to my recruiter about it. She’s on board. She’s gotten Tier to set up help for you. You'll be brilliant. Beyond. You'll be able to avenge your mother and your father and every other Senebal who lost their life to an Erlender cretin. You'll be able to do it single-handedly." He brushed her cheek and his tone was almost reverent. "I believe in you, Mala."
His look sent a tendril of heat racing down Mala's spine into her toes. She looked down, breaking the moment, worried that she might melt if she stared at him too much longer. And clearly, if she did, it might be the last time she ever got to stare at him.
"Thank you," she breathed, a little overwhelmed. And here I was worried he was ashamed of me. Avoiding me. God, Mala—you're paranoid.
"I think I need to explain one more thing," Lowe whispered. "I broke the rules for you Mala. And I never break the rules. Ever. I broke them again when we got here, going to my recruiter Fell instead of the head Ancient, to keep you safe. I need you to keep that secret. Keep your prior melts secret as long as you can. Don’t let them judge you until we know more. Don’t let them hurt you. And you know, it wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t throw me under the boat.”
"Of course," Mala promised in a rush. She grabbed Lowe's fingers and looked up at him. "I'll never tell anyone. I promise."
He gave the tiniest hint of a smile. It made her insides liquefy and slosh in her stomach. And it made her brave enough to bring up the one topic he hadn't touched on, the one thing he hadn't really addressed. He'd protected her. He'd lied for her. But he might have done that because of what I could do ... not for me, the little doubt in her head whispered.
"I ... um ... just have one more question." She took a deep breath. “About us. What is this?”
Lowe looked uncomfortable and glanced over the racks of clothing. He unlocked their fingers and brushed his hand over his jaw. “I don't know.”
Mala waited for a second. But he didn't offer anything else. Her heart plunged through the floor beneath her feet, and through several floors beneath that. It buried itself in the dark mud of the lake bottom.
Mala wasn't sure where she found the breath to continue, because all the air had fled her lungs, but she did. “What do you mean you don't know? You know most recruiters end up with their firsts, right? At least for a while. Alba told me. You knew that this connection thing would happen. But you didn't tell me."
His cheeks flushed. He did know. She had a choice: anger or pain. Anger was easier, though she had to blink hard to keep the tears back.
"So, I'm some living trophy. Some grand prize. Maybe even the greatest prize ever, if things go according to your plan and I'm some amazing Kreis, right? You're the kingmaker? You let me think ...” she trailed off for a minute, anger and sadness swirling inside. I knew it.
Anger took over and she lashed out. “So I'm just something you can whip out in front of other Kreis to prove what a man you are?” There was a huge pressure in her chest, like someone had dropped a boulder there.
“No, Mala. It's complicated.” He reached for her but she jerked away. She was hyperventilating. Mala counted furiously to regain control.
“And what about how you made me kill Blut? Was that just for the stat? So your new recruit would come in on top?”
“He was trying to kill us!”
“And you refused to kill him,” Mala snarled.
“You had a better shot at finishing him safely from a distance.”
She gave him a derisive sneer. Don't look at his eyes, she told herself. He was a soldier. He was Kreis. He is trained to lie and to kill, she thought furiously. He’s trained to manipulate people. You don’t want him anyway, she lied, trying to convince herself, to lift the boulder in her ribs before it smashed her to pieces.
“I thought it wouldn't matter. That you being my first would only make a good thing better. But ...”
When Mala felt she was in control of her breath, she looked up. She saw tears form in the corner of Lowe’s eyes. He blinked them away. She gritted her teeth, uncertainty shredding her insides. But the boulder lifted slightly.
Lowe traced a medallion on his cuffs. He searched for the words to explain. After several false starts, he said, “Mala, I don't know what makes our reactions to one another so intense. Am I proud you’re my first recruit? Hell yes. You're beyond what I could have dreamed. As a recruit. And as more. God, you're beautiful ... You're witty. You're even funny in your own twisted little Misanthropic way. But I know that all of this is made more intense by my emotional deprivation. And that ... scares me."
Mala shrugged off the compliments, intent on keeping her wall up. "You knew it would be this way. And you didn't tell me. You used me."
"No! I've had to be dead inside for seven years. Seven years, Mala. Do you know what that’s like? I couldn't feel anything. I've been undercover for months at a time, every possible emotion thrown at me and I couldn't feel a thing. Or I'd meltdown. Because, unlike whatever it is you do, if I feel something uncontrollable, I melt. And I can’t stop it. Can’t control it. I couldn’t feel or I’d die.
“You’ve been hungry before, right? Imagine starving. Imagine seven years of closing your eyes and telling your hear
t to shut up. That’s been my life. That’s what it means to be Kreis.
“I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. It was selfish of me. To want to bask in it a little bit. I don't think you understand how amazing it is to actually feel something so good when I have to spend every other waking hour trying not to feel at all. But how could you think I faked that? Or used that?" He stepped in close and whispered in her ear. "You melted. And you saw me melt.”
"In reaction to seeing her."
"No. In reaction to you." He stared at her a minute, waiting for this to sink in. As though Mala should understand the depth of what he said. She simply watched and waited.
“Mala, I’ve been Kreis for years. I don’t just meltdown. I don’t lose control. But when I kissed you … it was like lightning ...” He paused. Their eyes locked. Mala felt her heart skip and blood rush to her cheeks.
“Will I always melt like that?” she asked in a small voice. “Will you?”
Lowe smiled sadly. “That's the thing: I have no idea. Klaren kept his melting secret ... we don't have any idea how he did it. I wish I could tell you. All I do know is that unplanned melting is dangerous, deadly. If the Ancients knew what happened ... I don't know if either of us would be standing here right now. That's why you can never ever tell anyone about what happened out there. That's why today will be your first official melt. And that's why we'll spend every waking moment trying to figure out how to control your melts. Because I can't kiss you if you're gonna turn me into a gawky little boy. And I can't stand the thought of not kissing you." He reached out and stroked her lips briefly with his fingertips. He gave a half smile. Mala smiled weakly back at him. Then he straightened and moved aside.
Silently, the tailors came creeping back to their posts.
Chapter Sixteen
Mala stood before a pair of enormous black doors, her breathing shallow as she summoned the courage to push them apart and face the Ancients. She ran her stiff lace gloves over her grey suit one final time. Her right glove snagged on a buckle and she cursed. Sighing, Lowe leaned over and freed her. He smiled briefly, tensely, and nodded toward the doors. His mask of propriety had fallen back into place.
She could feel his tension. The energy between them was electric, even if half of it was nerves about the ceremony. Her insides were a frantic churning mess, but there was nothing she could do. Nowhere she could run. Remember, Mala: just say the words. Go through the motions.
But her feet wouldn't move. Not until her brain conjured up the image of the memorial room and Bara's symbol on the wall. Death be my life. Mala leaned into the doors, using her body weight to nudge them forward on their creaking hinges.
She slipped into a tall chamber. The entire room was painted black and the ceiling was lost in darkness. Incense gave the room a smoky flavor that lingered unpleasantly on her tongue. Only one harsh ring of neon-blue light circled the walls and curled lazily over the tendrils of smoke rising from the incense burners on the floor. The light was broken at irregular intervals by the silhouettes of the Ancients, all in black boots, black bodysuits covered in bulletproof armor, and black capes. The whites of their eyes shone aquamarine in the light as they stared at Mala. No one smiled, no one blinked.
Her throat dry, Mala had to swallow several times before she was able to get through her first line. “I come to preserve the Senebal nation.” A moment of silence followed, and Mala wondered whether she had gotten it wrong.
“Why do you come?” A scratchy voice rang out and echoed in the chamber. Mala couldn't tell who it belonged to.
“I come because it is right. I come because we were chosen. I come because the only way to peace is to annihilate those who force war upon us. I come to end their persecution, humiliation, and destruction. I come to pay the blood debt we owe our ancestors. I come to preserve the Senebal nation. I come to preserve the Senebal nation.”
Suddenly, the room around her took up the chant. Together all the Ancients repeated the line with her and Mala could feel her heart, which had been cringing in fear, unclench. A chill went through her spine. The room echoed with the words until she felt them pulsing in her chest.
Eventually, one of the Ancients put up a hand and the chant died to a hum. An old man with hanging jowls walked forward. “If you would join us, you must first pass the test,” he stated, voice quivering.
Mala stepped forward and waited.
Lowe clicked his heels together and turned toward her. In the dim lighting, his face was little more than a mask. He did not meet her eyes as he leaned in and planted a soft, chaste kiss on her lips. She felt him prick her finger and squeeze out a single drop of blood. Lowe gave her a second kiss. This one was more intense than the first. She felt his teeth lightly, teasingly, bite her lip. He held up her bleeding hand. And stepped back.
Nothing happened. Mala glanced at Lowe. He stared straight ahead, his expression immobile but for a slight frown.
She glanced nervously at the row of Ancients. A lone chuckle rose up from among them, and a tall man, with steel grey hair and a scruffy beard, strode forward.
"Are you nervous, young lady?" he asked.
Mala bit her lip and nodded.
"Well now, you shouldn't be. You're one of us." He placed a comforting arm on her shoulder. "But you're Lowe's first recruit. And sometimes nerves get the best of all of us. So I'll forgive him for the fact that he didn't get you properly prepared for the occasion. And now, I get the pleasure of administering your test."
Alarmed, Mala glanced at Lowe. But his face remained as rigid as ever.
The Ancient leaned forward and Mala could smell the funk of his breath. She fought hard to keep from flinching. She felt his lips press hers and she waited for him to finish, to back away. But suddenly, his hand crushed her hair and his tongue invaded her mouth. She gasped at the intrusion and her eyes popped open.
She squeaked as this tall man held her in a death grip, tongue grappling with her own. She tried to gently nudge him back with her arms. The Ancient ignored her, and pulled her body closer. He grabbed one of her wrists, twisted it roughly, and Mala felt the prick of a second pin. Blood welled on her fingertip and he forced her hand upward, slowly drawing a line of blood along her cheek as he moaned in delight at their kiss.
It took all the willpower Mala had to stop herself from punching him, from fighting him off. She relaxed into the kiss, hoping that would end it.
Thankfully, the Ancient relented as soon as he realized she'd given up control. He leaned back, his gaze calm, smirking slightly as he stared into her face, waiting for the change to take over. And ... nothing.
Why isn’t it working?
A whisper flew around the room. Both she and the Ancient turned to stare at Lowe, his eyes accusing while Mala's pled. What did I do wrong?
Lowe looked just as startled as anyone. Confusion flooded his features.
“Lowe,” a woman's harsh voice came from the side of the room. “What have you done?”
“You've brought a Typical!” chimed another. The circle began to close in, accusations coming from every direction.
“Fool!"
Mala backed into Lowe, overwhelmed by the sudden hostility. “Am I the only person to ever fail the test?” she asked tremulously. She looked up at Lowe, and though his eyes were locked on the furious Ancients, he nodded.
“I don't know what I did,” her voice broke. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” She reached for his hand instinctively, but he was ripped away by the furious mob of elder Kreis. One of them smashed a fist into his jaw. She heard a sickening crack.
“No!” Mala cried. “It's me, not him. It's my fault!” She reached for Lowe as they dragged him back to the doors but the Ancients easily batted her away.
To Mala, it felt like the world had slowed, just as it had in the seconds before her mother died. This is all my fault. She met Lowe's eyes for a split second and that spurred her to action. I have to prove I'm Kreis.
She caught the eye of the Ancient who had kissed her. A vicious l
ook lit his face. There was no doubt the violent end he saw in store. His rage at Lowe consumed him. His own cheek started to bubble. Mala grabbed him by the face, desperate impulse taking over. She locked her eyes on him, refusing to let him gaze around her, refusing to break the stare even when hands started to claw at her arms, at her neck. She ignored a knife that bit into her shoulder. She held his horrid veined eyes in her sight until she felt a flicker. Then she threw herself into flame.
Reality blurred and the world in front of her lost focus. Instead, Mala saw a tall man, silhouetted in a darkened room, holding another man aloft by the throat while a little boy, hidden in the shadows, screamed. The vision flickered and faded.
Seconds later she stood, panting and triumphant, over six feet tall. Her broad chest had ripped apart the uniform she’d worn, and her gleaming pecs and muscled arms glowed blue. She reached a rough hand up to her square, stubbled jaw, then touched the knife wound. No one else moved. They seemed frozen in shock.
Lowe, who'd been dropped on the ground, scrambled to his feet and ran to block Mala from the others. “It's not him!” he exclaimed, as one of the Ancients brandished a sword.
The Ancient swung the sword upward, ignoring Lowe. The fear in his eyes tugged her back into the fire again. The vision was too fast for her brain to register this time. She emerged a tiny woman, with soft brown hair and a bump at her belly. That stopped the Ancient short. His expression turned to one of anguish and his own face began to bubble. He dropped the sword.
Lowe scooped the sword up, but did not brandish it.
From the back of the crowd a tall black woman strode forward. "Stop!" she bellowed to the room at large. She marched toward Mala.
Mala locked eyes with the woman. She was like the calm in the midst of a hurricane. All around her, faces were aflame with fury. Their expressions tugged at Mala. They fed the flame inside. Someone else caught Mala’s eye. She felt her skin start to heat again and her body began to morph.