by Lauren Mansy
Clenching his jaw, Bray lets me go, and I crumble at his feet.
“I wish I’d died that day instead of them,” I whisper.
He crouches down in front of me, and I back away, pressing against the wall. “Finally, something we agree on,” he says, calm and in control once again as he slips my mother’s auction notice of out his pocket and holds it up. “I had no clue either one of you was still alive until your little friend Ryder came begging for our help last night—”
“Where is she?” I shout. “Don’t hurt her.”
Bray’s eyes flash. “Why would I hurt the person who brought you back to me? She’s proven herself to be more valuable than I ever thought possible. She’ll make an excellent Shadow while you’re finally getting what you deserve.”
“I’m begging you, Bray, leave Ryder out of this. And don’t let Madame kill my mother! She’s innocent,” I cry.
“Your betrayal is what will kill your mother. You’ll be her murderer, not Madame.”
His words cut through me as he drops the notice on the floor.
“Get my mother out of Craewick, and I’ll do whatever you want—”
“There is nothing I want except to see you suffer,” he says through his teeth. “Now your mother’s death will haunt you as my brother’s haunts me. We’ll share a similar fate, Jules, never being able to save the people we love. And there is no worse feeling than that.”
Panic rises up inside me as he stands and turns toward the door. I stuff the auction notice into my pocket before I push myself to my feet and throw myself in front of him. “Greer would want you to save her. He helped people who couldn’t help themselves,” I say.
“And look where that got him,” Bray hisses. “You’re a traitor and a liar, and you’ll be treated just like any other prisoner.”
“But I’m not like any other prisoner! I can be useful to you,” I yell back, pointing at my head. “I know you see I’m unreadable. I don’t know why, but now nobody can break into my mind, not even Sifters.” I show him the tattoo on my wrist. “I begged Madame for this Ungifted tattoo so I could hide from you, but it can make me an asset to the Shadows. I can steal any memory, and nobody will ever suspect I’m the thief or be able to take the memories back from me. If you’ll get my mother out of Craewick, I’ll never question your orders or refuse any job. My life will be yours.”
Dread coils in my stomach as his face darkens. In his silence, I shudder as another scream erupts outside my cell. I picture my mother, helpless and alone in her asylum bed. If I don’t convince Bray that I’m of any worth to him, that’s exactly how she’ll remain until Auction Day.
“I promise you that I’ll suffer. Being separated from my mother will tear me apart,” I whisper. “Just don’t let her die.”
Bray lifts my chin with his finger, forcing me to meet his stare. The gold flecks in his green eyes look as if they’re on fire. “Greer was as much of a father to me as my own. You betrayed him, you betrayed me, and you betrayed my brother. Every time I dream, I see their faces and hear them crying out for help, but no one comes to rescue them. If you betray me again, your fate will be no different.”
“I won’t betray you,” I force out.
“Your words mean nothing to me.”
“Then let me prove it! What do you want me to do?”
“Help me kill Madame,” he says without hesitating.
A memory of Madame flashes before me. Her eyes are shifty, always calculating, but her voice is as flat as the expressions on her face. She gives off the impression she’s not listening, as if her mind is lost somewhere, but always responds with the correct answer. Usually before you’ve even finished asking the question. She’s one step ahead. Always.
“Madame anticipates threats before the plan even hatches,” I stammer. “Nobody can kill her.”
“You’re wrong, Jules,” he says. “There is a Sifter more powerful than her. We have the ability to transfer memories, but he has the ability to transfer Gifts. He can change a Gifted into an Ungifted. He can strip Madame of her power, and she’ll never even see it coming.”
My heartbeat rushes to my ears. “Who?”
He pauses, then meets my eyes. “Greer.”
I stumble away from him. A thousand memories fly through my head of all the years I spent with Greer. He taught me not only how to read minds but people, how to pinpoint weaknesses and strengths . . . and yet I failed to notice his?
“If that’s true, why didn’t Greer fight back when the Minders captured him?” I ask as my throat closes. “Why didn’t he steal Madame’s Gift when he had the chance?”
“Because she used Cade and Joss as leverage until he was subdued,” Bray says, his words clipped. “Greer was a willing prisoner, and Madame killed them anyway. I saw everything in the memories of the Minder who murdered my brother. I even know what happened to Penn.”
Hot, angry tears flood my eyes as the memory of his death flashes before me.
Blood seeps from the corner of Penn’s mouth and the look in his eyes is louder than any scream.
“But Madame said she killed Greer too,” I say.
“Death would’ve been too quick for someone she hated as much as Greer. Madame sent him to the Maze.”
Tears trickle down my face as I squeeze my eyes shut. The Maze. It’s a prison invented by a madman named Porter, the ironfisted Sifter who rules the Woodland Realm from his fortress in Aravid.
The rumors passed around the Realms say the Maze is a labyrinth of bone-thin prisoners chained to stone walls, whose minds Porter fills with horrific memories that they’re forced to relive until they die. Others claim the entire prison is actually a maze of tricks and traps, designed to make the sane go insane.
Though the thought of Greer rotting away in the Maze makes me tremble, the tiniest flame of hope flickers inside me. Madame didn’t kill him!
“Greer has been trapped in there for four years,” I say, terrified to voice my next question. “How do you know if . . . if he’s still . . .”
“Sane? Alive? I don’t, but you’re going to find out. If anyone could survive the Maze, it would be someone with a Gift as powerful as his.”
“But how do you expect me to break in? Nobody knows where it’s even located,” I say.
Bray raises his eyebrows. “Nobody except the person who designed it. Porter owns the only key to that prison. If you want your mother to live, you’re going to steal the map from his mind, break Greer out of the Maze, and bring him back here. Then Greer will take away Madame’s Gift and end her reign.”
At his words, colors flash before my eyes. I lean over as a memory of Porter threatens to overwhelm me. My stomach quivers as it rushes to the forefront of my mind. I blink, fighting my way back to the present and open my eyes. Greer always kept the Shadows far away from Aravid, claiming Porter wasn’t an enemy he wished to make. But one time, I stole a memory of someone who’d met him. The terror she felt in Porter’s presence gave me nightmares for weeks.
Porter is a legend, the villain in all of our bedtime stories. Even if this plan works, what about the evil in his thoughts, evil that’ll be free to grow inside of me once I take his memories?
I meet Bray’s stare. “I can’t do this—”
He grabs the collar of my cloak and jerks me off my feet. “What makes you think you have a choice? All it takes is a second to snatch that memory, and with your unreadability, nobody can take it back from you. You will do this, or I’ll drag you back to Craewick myself to watch your mother die.”
When he lets go, my legs collapse. “You know the energy surrounding a Sifter’s mind is too powerful for me to force my way in.” I look up at him. “Unless Porter lets me inside his mind first, how am I supposed to steal that memory?”
Bray kneels in front of me. “Give me your hand,” he says. When I hesitate, he grabs it anyway. His skin is rough and calloused, but it tingles with the warmth of his Gift as he puts his guard down. “Take only what’s on the tip of my consciousness.
Try to steal anything from me, and I’ll make Madame look merciful.”
I close my eyes and let the memory seep into me . . .
From my guard post at the commander’s office, I catch snippets of his conversation with Madame. They’re yelling about Porter and Aravid. Something about a fire. There’s a slit between the hinges, just wide enough to peek in. The commander sits behind his desk, but Madame blocks my view. Something shiny catches my eye, near the corner of the desk as if it’s fallen off and been forgotten. I squint . . . a necklace?
“I have ensured these events will never be linked to me or you, Commander,” says Madame. “No one will ever know you’re the one who told me that Porter’s daughter was here.”
A bead of sweat trickles down his brow. “How can you guarantee that?”
She lifts a spidery hand in the air. “Memories are easy enough to remove. If nobody remembers what happened, they’ll believe she died inside that cottage when it burned to the ground.”
“But no one was in that cottage when I torched it,” he blurts out. “What if Porter finds her body? The evidence leads straight to us!”
“I am not worried about Porter finding her body.” Madame circles the commander like prey.
“Why not?” he spits out. “I most certainly am!”
“Because there is no body,” she whispers and slits his throat. “She’s still alive.”
I came back to the present with a gasp, my head throbbing as my mind adjusts to holding the new memory. “Madame has been lying to Porter?” I say between breaths. “But they’re allies!”
His eyes narrow. “Do you really think two brutal rulers wouldn’t keep secrets from one another? Anyone who believes they’re allies doesn’t know a fraction of what’s truly going on throughout the Realms.”
Bray pulls out a silver chain from beneath his shirt. The pendant is engraved with the crest of the Woodland Realm, the same pattern etched on the clasp of my cloak.
“Porter won’t meet with you unless he has a reason to,” he says. “Before it was stolen by the Minders, this necklace belonged to his daughter. It’ll get his attention, and the memory will prove she’s still alive. Offer to give Porter that memory and once you’re inside his mind, steal the map of the Maze. It’ll disguise your heat signature so he won’t know you’ve taken anything until you’re long gone.”
My hands tremble as I grab the necklace.
“You said it yourself. Porter will never even see this coming.” Bray stares at my Ungifted tattoo before meeting my eyes. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? Your stupidity gets Greer sent to the Maze, and yet you’re the only one who can set him free.” He grabs the shoulder of my cloak and drags me to the door. “Before you leave, there’s something else you need to see.”
Outside the cell, shadows play on the rocky walls. The only light comes from the lanterns strung high above us, though the flames aren’t bright enough to do much good. I stumble in the soft dirt and bits of the wall flake off as I graze it. I rub the reddish clay between my fingertips. The tunnel slopes, steep enough that I lean back to keep my footing.
I haven’t been here in four years but these tunnels and caverns are so familiar that I could sprint through them with my eyes closed. Though if someone were to ask me where the Mines are located, I’d have no clue what to tell them.
Once a thief leaves the safety of this underground fortress, a scout takes the memories of its location and implants a clue on how to find it again: a certain tree deep in the forest. When a thief wishes to return to the Mines, they go to that tree, and the scouts lead them back to a secret entrance. It’s one of the protocols to keep the black market hidden.
Because I didn’t remember where the Mines were located on the day I betrayed Greer, I believed Madame would never find a way to hurt my friends. I’d never been more wrong.
The tunnel splits into three passageways, and I struggle to keep up with Bray as we take the center one. Ahead, there’s a set of wooden stairs built between solid sheets of silver granite. My legs burn as I scramble up the staircase after him. We pass under a rocky arch leading into a massive cavern, where the black market of memories is even grander than I remember.
It’s a city built entirely underground, a marketplace of wooden stands and storefronts carved from the granite they once mined throughout these caves before Madame abandoned the shafts to excavate the riches of the mind. The gold veins in the rare stone catch the light from the dozens of fire pits scattered throughout the cave, casting shadows over everything.
There are dozens of thieves around us, some younger than Ryder to those with hair that’s entirely white, clasping hands to swap memories. Many have covered their faces with dark masks or scraps of fabric to keep their identities hidden in case the Minders ever search one of their minds. Words like combat skills and dancing talent are being shouted from atop tiny wooden platforms, the thieves who’ve stolen those memories looking to trade with another in search of it.
As Bray and I make our way through the crowd, my Gift flares up deep inside me, my skin tingling as I long to use it. It’s a feeling I’ve suppressed for so long, ever since my mother’s accident. After what happened to her, after I witnessed just how easily a Gift could destroy an Ungifted mind, the thought of using it made me sick.
But being back here among these thieves lights my skin on fire and gives me strength, filling me up. I’ve lived among the Ungifted for so long that I’ve almost forgotten the thrill that comes in using our Gifts to undermine everything Madame stands for. And though I wish more than anything to be the fearless Shadow I once was, I’m terrified that girl died along with Cade, Joss, and Penn.
On the outskirts of the market are stands filled with clothing and thick wool blankets, all items the Ungifted need to cover their skin to protect it from theft and the icy cold of winter. Beside this booth are a few carts filled with fruits and vegetables, items usually given by the Ungifted as a thank you to the Shadows for returning whatever memories they lost.
Bray stops at the edge of the cavern, and I skid to a halt beside him.
Carved into the granite wall are pits filled with fire, where Shadows are melting vats of iron to pour into thick molds shaped like knives, swords, and arrowheads. Others whittle bows from thick branches and loop strings through the notches. They fire the newly crafted arrows across the cavern, hitting painted targets with incredible accuracy.
“The Mines aren’t just a den of thieves anymore,” Bray tells me. “Greer never wanted to create an army, but that’s exactly what we are now. I recruited anyone looking to escape their Minder conscription to fight alongside the Shadows.”
I widen my eyes. Like most Sifters, Bray was plucked from his home and sent to the military base in Kripen as soon as the Minders discovered his Gift. I glance at his tattoos, the crest of the Stone Realm above one shaped like an eye. He spent years learning to lead a battalion of soldiers before he escaped to join the Shadows, bringing his brother Cade along after their parents were killed by a drunken Hollow who lost a bid at the auction.
“Greer never created an army because he knew Madame would only destroy it,” I say.
“Everyone here is willing to die fighting for what they believe in,” Bray answers. “Greer sacrificed everything to keep us safe, but now a future without a revolution is far more frightening than the fight itself. If Greer can’t steal Madame’s Gift, we’re going to burn Craewick to the ground. It’ll take a war to draw her out and kill her.”
I gasp. “This isn’t a fight you can win!”
“It’s a risk we have to take. Madame is gaining power, and if you’re half the girl you used to be, you’d see it too,” he snaps. “Ever since her father was killed, Madame’s worst fear is that a more powerful Sifter will take her throne. Her father’s advisors always suspected his murder was an inside job—”
“An inside job? So someone he knew?” I ask, and Bray nods. After witnessing how well-protected Madame is, often flanked by Minders or the black-coated hound
s which snap at anyone who gets too close, it always struck me as impossible to kill a ruler . . . unless that ruler never saw it coming.
“After his death, Madame became paranoid. She disbanded her father’s council and took on all their memories herself. Now she knows every military strategy and way to build an empire. The fact that her mind is capable of holding all that history and not imploding is incredible, but those memories created a thirst for unlimited power. She hates sharing the throne with Porter, Declan, and Sorien, and they don’t care much for her either,” Bray says.
I nod. The ruler of each Realm is known simply by their surname. Porter of the Woodland Realm, Declan of the Desert Realm, Sorien of the Coastal Realm . . . then you have Madame, who chose not to be associated with her father after she rose to power. Whenever a ruler dies, their throne is taken over by the most powerful Sifter, usually the former ruler’s second-in-command, who also hails from that Realm.
Bray adds, “When I lived in Kripen, I noticed Madame visited the military base far more than the other rulers. It took me years of stealing memories off the Minders to figure out why. Madame has been implanting and deleting memories to ensure many of the commanders are loyal to her alone. If my scouts are correct, she’s going to attack the other rulers and take control of each Realm a week from today.”
“The day after the auction?” I blurt out, my head spinning. I always believed three other Sifters were keeping Madame in line, but if she goes unchecked, how long will it be before the Realms unravel? “But even if their commanders are under some kind of mind control, Porter, Declan, and Sorien will fight her. They won’t give up their thrones to Madame.”
“They already have. Craewick is the heart of the Four Realms. The Ungifted workers provide food, clothing, and supplies to Blare, Aravid, and Kripen. By controlling who leaves Craewick and what new memories come in, Madame has made herself the lock and key to all its resources. She’ll cut off anyone who rises up against her.”
“But we’ve been allied for decades. There have to be people in Craewick who’ll fight—”