Tithe

by Claire Vale

  “If I stay single, I’ll be Tithed,” he says. “It’s the only way to make this fair for the girls and they deserve that, at the very least.”

  And there it is.

  So simple.

  So very, very wrong. “That’s not how this works, Gabe. I know you love the girls, I know you’d do anything for them, but not this, you don’t get to fall on your sword. Not even for a certainty, but for a possibility that they get shunned and/or Tithed?”

  My voice pitches as I get more and more steamed up. “Is this really what you think your parents want? Imagine how Josie and Maddie will feel about this? Imagine the guilt they’ll live with. It’s not fair. It’s not fair to your parents or to your sisters or to me or to yourself. You don’t get to be some big hero, not like this. Have you even stopped to think about what you’re doing?”

  His jaw tenses. “I’ve done nothing but think about it.”

  I don’t accept it.

  My heartrate spikes and my breaths come short…and I remember inhaling Gabe’s faith in me just a couple of minutes ago, how it calmed my breaths and fought off the panic.

  That’s all Gabe needs, I tell myself, a little faith. “You need to have more faith in people. Faith that Josie and Maddie have classmates like us, like you and me and Jessie for sure, maybe a whole lot of others, who aren’t spineless cowards who’d spurn them just because they’re twins. Faith that the Alders are fair in all things, they wouldn’t devastate your family in that way, they will address any issues that arise here in the girls’ Tithe before it gets out of hand.”

  “Faith in the Alders?” Gabe laughs, a dry, humorless thing. “Look at what they’ve done to Olly. I don’t think they’re deliberately unfair, but to be honest, I don’t think they care all that much. They need ten souls and if we want to sort that out between ourselves, they’re happy to oblige us. That’s exactly what they’re doing right now.”

  “So you just sacrifice yourself?”

  “But not you…” His gaze slides over my shoulder. “I’ve already discussed this with Chris. He’s agreed. He’s happy, seriously, he is…” that wandering gaze flicks to me, “he didn’t just agree Senna, he really likes you, and I know you like him, and I know it’s just friends but that’s something and I’ve seen how you guys used to mess with each other and flirt, there could be something there…”

  His voice ebbs off into nothing.

  A pinkish color flushes up from his neck to stain his cheeks.

  It’s the first time I recall seeing Gabe blush.

  He should be embarrassed.

  He should be ashamed of himself.

  I’m gob-smacked.

  No, scrap that, I’m not at all confused anymore.

  I’m angry. It’s a cold and hungry anger. It shivers and trembles through me all the way to my fingertips.

  “You pawned me off to Chris,” I say, my voice so flat and dull, it sounds foreign to my ears, “to ease your conscience?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “I let you speak.” I hold a hand out between us. “Now it’s my turn.”

  His Adam’s apple bulges.

  “You spoke to Chris about all of this before me?”

  “I had—”

  “Shut up, Gabe, I mean it.”

  “You keep asking questions.”

  I give him a look that purses his lips and zips his mouth. Even though I don’t have any other questions that don’t want or need answers.

  But then there’s one more, and it demands an answer. “When?”

  Gabe’s frown creases into his eyes. His jaw works.

  “I mean it Gabe, tell me when you and Chris shook on this little deal that passes me from you to him like I’m just some damn possession!”

  Gabe releases a heavy breath. “Yesterday.”

  “Yesterday?”

  “After lunch,” he adds. “You went off with Jessie—”

  “Yesterday… After lunch.” My anger takes another yawning bite into the hole that’s opened in the pit of my stomach. “Before last night.”

  “Senna, I’m sorry, I know that wasn’t the right thing to do. I just wanted one last night with you, the way things were, before this…”

  His eyes plead with me to say something, to forgive.

  I don’t have it in me.

  “I wasn’t going to…” His head drops forward, fingers rubbing the line above his brow as if to soothe some growing headache. “I didn’t mean for it to go any further. I just wanted to hold you in my arms the whole night, to be close to you one last time. The rest, that just happened and that’s all on me, I should have known I couldn’t sleep with you and not…you know, sleep with you.”

  I could tell him it’s okay. There were two of us in that bed. And I guess maybe it is okay, him knowing, me not knowing, I can’t really regret last night.

  But I won’t.

  I push up from the grass and walk away.

  For the rest of the day, I don’t say another word to Gabe. I don’t look at him, or Chris. I can barely keep up a conversation with Jessie that involves more than one syllable responses.

  I am the frost that nips at your toes on a winter morning.

  21

  I’M TOO ANGRY to be heartbroken.

  I’m too stubborn to be heartbroken.

  I love Gabe.

  Gabe loves me.

  I can’t predict the Alders’ course and, if we’re Tithed as a pair, so be it. But this is not how we end, him sacrificed to a noble cause, me crumpled in a heap of tears.

  I fully intend to fix us, which means an intervention from Kane who is notoriously absent outside of our FT sessions. I catch him on the next one. After our usual jog to the marker and back, there’s an improvised game of baseball in the gym with a sponge ball. I field close to the door, so when Kane calls ‘time’ and heads out, I’m hot on his heels.

  He gives me a cocked-brow look as the door swings closed behind us.

  “Can we talk?” I ask. I deliberately haven’t given another moment of thought or angst to our last private encounter. It’s easy to ignore his devastating beauty, I’m finding, when he doesn’t single me out. And like now, when he makes it clear I’m nothing more than a nuisance he can’t shake. “I won’t keep you long and it’s, um…well, kind of important.”

  The door swings open again.

  Rose sashays through in her tight shorts and a skimpy top that barely covers the essentials. “Kane, there you are! You always disappear in such a rush.”

  Her eyes widen on me, telling me to scoot.

  My eyes widen right back at her. I got here first and I’m not going anywhere.

  If Kane notices the exchange, he doesn’t comment.

  Rose turns to Kane with a sweet smile. “I’m organizing a darts competition in the rec room tonight and I was just thinking, wouldn’t it be great if you’d join us?”

  His gaze hoods on her. “Would it?”

  “You are our fitness instructor, after all, you could give us some pointers.” Her hand comes up, a finger dusting his upper arm. “It would also be nice to get to know our future Alder a little better while we have you here to ourselves, you know?”

  I resist the urge to gag out loud. I guess she was being serious about going after Kane, but does she have to be so obvious?

  As the door swings open yet again, this time on a wave of chatter, Kane’s gaze hits me. “Come with me, both of you.”

  The taste of victory creams Rose’s smile.

  I wish her luck, I really do. The sooner Kane accepts her invitation, the sooner we can get to my business.

  Kane takes us into Training Room B, a large room arranged with three rectangular tables, eight straight-back chairs to each.

  He perches on the edge of a table, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, arms folded.

  “I don’t have the time to attend your social functions and less than zero interest,” he drawls, his cool gray eyes including me with Rose. “I don’t know what would make you think oth
erwise, but let me be blunt. I am not available.”

  His message is clear, and it isn’t just for Rose. It’s for me, too. My cheeks sting with indignation.

  Rose takes a moment to recover, but she does so beautifully. “It was just a friendly overture, Kane, not a marriage proposal.”

  “You have no idea how pleased I am to hear that,” he slides in smoothly. “If that’s all…?” He unfolds his arms to wave us to the door.

  Rose swirls around and goes.

  “Let me rephrase,” he says when I make no move to follow. His voice is a cold command. “That is all. You may go.”

  “You really are a presumptuous, arrogant—” I bite down on my tongue, swallowing the long list of insults tickling the back of my throat. I came to beg a favor, not start a war. “Thanks for the update on your unavailability, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  He waits, watching me with that expression of eternal boredom.

  That’s my opening, but Kane’s attitude climbs under my skin. “You know what? Why would you presume I’ve got any interest in you, anyway? You’ve seen me and Gabe together.”

  “You haven’t lodged yet.”

  “How is that any of your business?”

  He smirks. “You’re the one who ambushed me outside the gym to, apparently, talk about it.”

  “I did not ambush you!” I kind of did, but that is not the reason why. I exhale a noisy breath. “I’m here about Olly.”

  Kane looks at me.

  “Oliver Hart?” I spell out.

  “He sent you here to appeal on his behalf,” Kane states.

  “Appeal against what?”

  He looks at me.

  “Olly didn’t send me,” I say. “He hates me for telling about June, and for not telling, it’s kind of fuzzy but he definitely blames me for everything that’s happened.”

  His eyes sharpen. “What about you? Do you blame yourself?”

  Now there’s a pendulum that swings to extremes depending on the hour of the day. “Does it matter? You know that saying, beauty is in the eye of the beholder? The same goes for guilt, I suppose.”

  His palms flatten on the table and he rocks back. “That’s true.”

  His gaze strays to some point behind me, deep in thought, giving my own gaze the freedom to travel. He’s clean-shaven this morning, his midnight black hair swept back from his face, and yet somehow there’s still something swarthy and windswept about him.

  My pulse quickens, just a fraction. I don’t let it bother me.

  So, he has some dramatic appeal, I tell myself with an internal shrug.

  He is no comparison to Gabe.

  There’s no space in my heart for any other guy and even if there was, Kane could never fill it. I barely like him. Look how intensely I thought I was attracted to him the other day. Look how easily I discarded it.

  Kane brings his gaze in, catching my eyes in the process of lingering on his wide, firm mouth. I don’t blink away and he doesn’t smirk. He pushes off the table and moves into a chair.

  I take that as an invitation and pull the chair out from across him.

  He sits comfortably, studying me. “Do you remember the confession exercise?” he finally says.

  “How can I forget?”

  “What did Alderman Keelan say about responsibility?”

  “Quite a lot.”

  He’s not amused. “Think back, specifically to what he said just before he asked you to step forward to confess.”

  Or you could just tell me. I try his tactic of just looking, waiting, but he doesn’t cave. I sigh, cast my mind back. Something about being responsible for ourselves…taking the responsibility for our own actions and the consequences.

  “I’m responsible for my own actions,” I say.

  Kane gives a slow nod. “And so is everyone else.”

  I frown at him. “What exactly are you saying?”

  “I shouldn’t be having this conversation with you at all, Senna, and I’m definitely in no position to offer you reassurances. I will give you this, though. You may not always appreciate what the Alders say, but they always stand by their words.”

  He won’t offer me reassurances, and yet somehow the target washes off my back as I stare into his stone gray eyes. “What about Olly? Why hasn’t he been allowed to withdraw so he can Tithe with June?”

  “That’s not up for discussion.”

  “He’s been punished by association!”

  Kane folds his arms, his gaze hooding down on me. I imagine his legs lazily stretching out beneath the table.

  I take a deep breath to flatten the spike of my anger. Everything rests on this moment. Somehow, I have to convince Kane to talk the Alders into withdrawing Olly from this year’s Tithe. It’s the only thing I can think of that might restore some of Gabe’s faith in the fair practice of the Tithe.

  “You may not be aware that you’re punishing Olly, but you are,” I tell him, keeping my tone level and reasonable. “It doesn’t matter how many reassurances you throw out there—” not that Kane’s offered “—everyone will still think it’s safer to distance themselves from him. He can’t be with June, and he won’t find another pair either, and it’s not fair, Kane, it really isn’t.”

  He shrugs. “Life is rarely fair.”

  My blood heats to boiling. “That doesn’t mean we just give up and accept! You can do something about this.”

  “I’ve told you before, Senna, I don’t get a vote.”

  “But the Alders will listen to you.”

  “That’s optimistic and naive.”

  “The Alders elected you, Kane, they chose you to walk in their footsteps, to take your place at their table when one of them next stands down.” My eyes flash into him, willing a spark to light and set his damn devil-may-care attitude on fire. “Don’t sit here and pretend you’re helpless. You have their confidence. They value your opinion.”

  His brows ride lower, his face darkening like a storm on the horizon. “Consider why.”

  I rein in my burst of temper, but the fury doesn’t go away, it just turns cold and numbing.

  “Why they elected you? Let me think, I wasn’t really paying attention.” Sarcasm drips down the corners of my mouth. “Something to do with how very special you are, I’m sure.”

  My cold anger feels moderately warm compared to the frost glazing over in his eyes. “Consider why I have their confidence.”

  The full extent of my failure sinks in. Kane was right after all. I’m an optimistic, pathetically naïve idiot.

  “Because you share their opinions…” I mutter, scraping my chair back to stand. “You won’t speak up for Olly, because you agree with keeping him here and none of you give a damn about the consequences.”

  “Sit.”

  I shake my head, turn to go. “We’re done here.”

  “That wasn’t a request.” There’s a deadly quiet to his voice that warns I’ve pushed to the absolute limit.

  I hesitate. But whatever Kane and I are (not quite friends, not quite adversaries), won’t save me from this. I do as I’m ordered, sit stick-straight, my hands clasped in my lap, my gaze level with his chest.

  “The Tithe is a cruel and necessary reality of our survival, Senna. No one wants to be Tithed to the wall, and yet the wall demands ten souls. There’s nothing fair about it. No one person is more or less worthy. The Alders are men of honor, but there is nothing honorable about choosing one over another.”

  My eyes lift inch by inch until they connect with his. The storm has passed.

  “There is only one system that is somewhat fair and honorable,” Kane continues, his voice sober, rationed with reason. “Rules that apply to everyone. Rules that are the same for everyone. Exceptions to the rules that are based on another set of rules. So yes, I am in full agreement with the Alders on this. We cannot set aside any one of those rules for unfortunate circumstances or preferences of the heart or plain bad individual luck. That would be the definition of unfairness.
Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Damn Kane. Of course I agree, and I hate him a little for it.

  Kane reads the answer from my silence. “Excellent.” He dips his head, a chunk of that raven hair falling over his eyes. “Consider this your last and final crash course on attitude adjustment.”

  His mouth doesn’t quirk in amusement. There’s no hint of humor in his tone. He’s not joking.

  I don’t have the will to rise to the implied threat. I already hate him a little, and it feels like enough. I guess I now know what Kane and I are: dissident behavior training officer and stubborn student.

  “Thanks,” I say dryly and stand to go.

  This time he doesn’t stop me.

  22

  I’M NOT OUT of options.

  I thought I was, but then I was too angry to even think his name, let alone talk to him. I hunt Chris down in the rec room, playing a game of Foosball with Daniel. Gabe is nowhere to be seen. Good. I hope he’s lying on his bed, alone and miserable and desperately regretting every word he said yesterday.

  Chris takes one look at me and his hands fall away from the rods.

  “Hey, no timeouts.” Daniel spins and snaps the rod and shouts out, “Goal!”

  Neither of us pay him any heed. Chris nudges his chin toward the door and walks on ahead. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why I’ve come for him.

  We peek into the cafeteria, find it empty and snag seats by the window.

  Chris pushes both hands through his hair, brown eyes watching me warily. “He spoke to you?”

  I chew on my inner cheek, nod yes. The tension between us is bone dry. I wet my lips and jump up to fetch a glass of water from the display cooler. When I return, Chris is standing by the window with his back to me. I know how I want to approach this. I have a strategy. Unfortunately it’s based on Chris’ cooperation and a spit of luck and the same noble sentiment from Gabe that put us here.

  I sip on my water, uncomfortable with what comes next. This is not a question I ever imagined having to ask out loud. But it’s an important one. My hand tightens around the glass as I lower it onto the table. “Are you in love with me?”

  He doesn’t immediately turn.