by Lauren Mansy
He barks out a laugh. “Like who? The Hollows? She started the auction to make them willing prisoners, filled up and blinded by foreign memories. They won’t bite the hand that feeds them. And the Ungifted aren’t equipped for a war like this. How can they protect themselves against Minders, who can erase memories faster than a knife finds its target? The only way to end Madame’s reign is to kill her.”
I twist my hands by my sides. I’ve heard conversations like this from my neighbors about life before Madame took her throne just before I was born. When her father ruled, people traveled. They gained new experiences, formed their own identities, and the Ungifted were protected and supported. One of the reasons his death was so shocking is that he was seemingly well-liked among most—so unlike his daughter.
Though I hate Madame as much as my neighbors, I always kept quiet at even the slightest hint of a rebellion. I learned long ago not to encourage their ideas, especially when the discovery of those thoughts will land you an auction slot.
Bray draws closer. “Greer can still prevent this war. If Madame dies, her army will scatter and the Shadows will take over Craewick. You have five days to get the map and break him out of the Maze.” He points out a tiny girl with her back toward us. “Don’t fail me, Jules. More lives than yours depend on it.”
My heart sinks as I watch Ryder nock an arrow and hit a bullseye.
CHAPTER
5
I’ll never forget the night I met Ryder.
It was four years ago, just after her grandparents kicked her out of the only home she’d ever known. They’d been selling off happy memories for years to pay rent on their worn cottage until one day, they’d both given away so much of their past that they didn’t remember Ryder. She was a stranger to them, an orphan who they wouldn’t believe was their own flesh and blood.
I hadn’t slept well since my mother fell into her coma, but I’d finally dozed off only to be woken by a little girl sobbing in my doorway, hiding under the tiny overhang as rain pelted down. So I brought her inside and did what my mother had always done to calm me. I wrapped her up in a blanket, warmed some milk, and told her stories until we both couldn’t keep our eyes open.
It wasn’t until years later that Ryder discovered I’d been keeping secrets from her.
Most don’t realize they’re Gifted until age ten or eleven, when your skin starts tingling with the energy required to transfer memory, and each time you touch a person, moments you’ve never lived before seep into your own mind.
Like Ryder had always done, she’d tucked her hand into mine as we walked to the auction, but this time, she reeled back as if I’d set her on fire. “Your skin . . . it’s tingling!” she cried.
I’d covered her mouth so quickly I’d frightened her. That’s when I knew she was Gifted like me, as only another Gifted could sense the energy in my skin. My fake tattoo had been enough for the Ungifted to accept me as one of their own, and as hardly any Gifted lived in the fray, nobody had ever suspected I was lying. The seamstress had even given me a job sewing Minder uniforms.
Ryder had pushed my hand away. “Why would you pretend to be Ungifted?”
I’d gone deathly still, terrified that Ryder knew my secret but also, I hated that the Minders would soon discover hers.
The Gifted were usually so proud of their Gifts that the second they felt their skin buzz with energy, they rushed to Madame’s office to receive their tattoos. Then those from the fray were usually taken from their families and drafted into the Minders or given jobs as Collectors. Unlike the children of the Hollows, whose minds were full of memories and talents passed down from older generations, Ryder had no family and owned nothing of value that she could offer Madame to avoid either career.
I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that I’d struck a deal with Madame to get this tattoo. So I lied, saying that I hadn’t realized I was Gifted until long after the Minders had already branded me.
“My mother is in a coma because a Gifted destroyed her mind. I want nothing to do with them,” I’d whispered, too ashamed to confess I was really the one who’d hurt my mother.
“The Gifted took my grandparents from me too,” Ryder said, slipping her hand back in mine. “If you keep my Gift a secret, I’ll keep yours a secret too.”
We both knew that eventually the Minders would question why she didn’t have a tattoo and test her skin for energy. But Ryder was so tiny that we told everyone she was younger than she really was. So far, nobody had questioned her on it.
Brushing the memory away, I spin and shove my hands into Bray’s chest, any fear I felt toward him dissolving into fury. “Ryder isn’t some soldier in your ill-fated army. Let her go,” I say.
“She pledged to me on her own,” Bray says. “Ryder is brave enough to stand up to Madame, which is obviously more than I can say for you.”
Turning my back toward him, I watch Ryder loose another arrow before I push through the group of Shadows around her and pull Ry into my arms.
“Etta! I knew the Shadows would help you,” she cries, dropping her bow to hug me back. “Where’s your mother? Is she here?”
“You have to get out of here,” I whisper near her ear. “Go to the woods and hide until this is all over.”
She jerks away. “Hide? No, I joined up to fight.”
I barely stop myself from laughing. What kind of fight would it be? Ryder up against Minders three times her size? “If something happens to you—”
“Who cares what happens to me? This is our chance to change Craewick. We’re going to knock Madame off her throne,” Ryder says as the glint in her eyes returns. “You protected me from Madame when nobody else would, and now it’s my turn to help the rest of the orphans. I can be their Etta.”
Blinking back tears, I wrap my arms around her again. My mother once told me our friends make up parts of our souls. If that’s true, I’m not sure I can afford to lose anymore, but I’ve never seen Ryder look this way, as if she’s finally found her place in the world.
“Did you pledge to Bray?” she asks as I pull back and nod. She looks over my shoulder and smiles, pointing at something behind me. “Bray’s with Reid. He’s the one who recruited me.”
Narrowing my eyes, I follow her gaze. He’s nearly as tall as Bray, and wearing a dark jacket, the same color as the hair clipped close to his head. He isn’t wearing any kind of mask, but I don’t recognize his face. If I sketched it, I’d draw a lot of edges. He’s striking, I’ll give him that. He has a chiseled jaw and a bit of a hooked nose, and he angles his head when I catch his eyes. I wonder if he knows about my betrayal. If that’s why his stare is so intense.
Ryder grins. “When this is all over, we’re going to be a real family, aren’t we? You, me, and your mother.”
My throat is so tight that I can barely answer. “I’m leaving for a few days, but I’ll be back before the fight begins. Be careful, okay?”
She hugs me once more before I force myself to leave her as Bray calls my name. Turning away, I roughly wipe away a tear as it rolls down my cheek. Bray made it clear that my mother’s fate is connected to freeing Greer, but the thought that I’ve also failed to protect Ryder threatens to crush me.
I find Bray near the armory still speaking with this Reid. Recognizing his voice, I hiss, “You’re the one who knocked me out and threw me into that dungeon.”
Reid blinks twice. “For someone who actually wanted to meet with Bray, you put up a pretty good fight.”
Bray frowns at me before saying to Reid, “Get your supplies and head out now. Plan to be in Aravid in two days.”
Reid glances over. “From what I experienced firsthand, you already own a combat skill, correct? Or should I get you one before we go?”
“We?” I scowl at him, then at Bray. “I don’t need a partner.”
Bray raises his eyebrows. “The woods between here and Aravid are crawling with Minders, Hunters, and Ghosts. Once Madame realizes one of her precious citizens has escaped Craewick, she’ll send soldiers to haul y
ou back, especially if she’s auctioning your mother to get back at you. Not to mention Reid will keep you safe in the Maze. Having a Sifter on your side—”
I point at Reid. “You’re a Sifter?”
Blocking my view of him, Bray puts his hands on his knees so we’re face-to-face, making me feel like a child. “He can read ten minds in a second while according to Ryder, you’ve barely used your Gift in four years. Why is that, hmm? Are you ashamed of being Gifted?” When I don’t answer, he adds, “When you come across enemies, do you really think it’ll be you or Reid who’ll stop them? I won’t let your pride ruin this, Jules.”
“Etta,” I say, matching his sharp tone. “I haven’t gone by Jules in years.”
Bray looks at me long and hard, and a shudder runs down my spine. He glances at the four leather bands around my wrist, and I cross my arms to cover them up.
When he finally speaks, his voice is a low growl. “You are alive because you’re useful to me. The second that changes, all bets are off.” He closes the space between us, and I can’t bring myself to meet his stare. “Bring Greer back here before Auction Day, and I’ll get your mother out of the asylum. Fail me again, and I’ll make you wish you really did die four years ago.”
As Bray walks away, I watch him until he’s swallowed up by the thieves of the memory market. The back of my throat stings as I blink away tears. Cade, Joss, and Penn do haunt me, but it isn’t just them that I mourn. There have been a lot of ugly words between Bray and me, but we share a past, one in which I wouldn’t be me apart from knowing him.
Reid is picking through a pile of weapons as I turn toward him. “What’s your name?” he asks, without looking up. “Jules? Etta? Which is it?”
“Why do you care?” I mutter.
He holds up a knife with a notched blade and one with a curved handle, glancing between the two. “You seemed to care with Bray.”
I shift my feet. My mother always called me Julietta. Greer nicknamed me Jules. In Craewick, I’m Etta. Jules drags up memories of someone I’ve tried for a long time to forget. “Etta,” I tell him.
Reid meets my eyes. “Okay, Etta, why are you looking at me like I’m your enemy?”
“Because you recruited Ryder,” I say through clenched teeth. “For four years, I’ve worked to keep her away from all this and now here she is, giddy at the thought of fighting Minders who’ll kill her with one blow. Nobody deserves to be bait to draw Madame out of her lair.”
“I agree. That’s why I volunteered to go with you to Aravid. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
“Did you make the same promise to Ryder when you recruited her?” I snap.
Reid clenches his jaw. “Listen, I don’t like this plan either. I’d try to steal that map off Porter myself, but I’m not the one who’s unreadable.” He studies me, the slight glow of the gold flecks in his eyes making me wonder if he’s trying to look inside my mind.
At his slight frown, I lift my chin, knowing he failed to read me. “If a Sifter as powerful as Madame can’t hear my thoughts, there’s no way you or any other Sifter can either.”
“That’s exactly my point. If I let my guard down to share a memory with Porter, my mind is no longer protected against him. He’ll destroy anyone Bray sends except for you. You’re the perfect thief.”
I throw my hands up. “What if Porter kills me? Will you go to Craewick and get my mother out of the asylum? Will you keep Ryder safe when she goes up against Minders three times her size?” I spit out. “What happens if we fail?”
His face softens for a brief moment. “The answer to that question scares me as much as it does you. You don’t have to trust me, but we both know Bray wouldn’t make us partners if he thought I’d hurt you.” Leaving the armory, he strides toward the booths on the fringe of the market, saying over his shoulder, “You’re stuck with me, Etta. Better get used to it.”
He stops at a booth stockpiled with everything we need for the journey to Aravid. There are boxes of matches, compasses, thin blankets, coils of rope, extra clothing, loaves of bread, and bottles filled with water. It’s unmanned, these supplies meant for any Shadow to take.
Reid holds up a knife in one hand and an arrow in the other. “What’s your specialty?”
When firelight catches the blade, a memory flashes before me.
I’ve snatched the skill I wanted ever since joining the Shadows—a fighting talent. My veins tingle with satisfying warmth as years of sparring practice dissolve into my every muscle. I’ve mastered an intricate, lethal dance.
I blink, and the memory fades. “Both. I stole the skills off a Minder.”
He looks a little impressed, then hands me the knife and the bow before we rummage through the supplies.
After finding a satchel, I stuff it full with throwing knives, a thin rope, a blanket, matches, and a compass before I place the auction notice on top. I pull a dark tunic over my thin undershirt before securing the clasp of my mother’s cloak at my neck. The chain of Porter’s daughter’s necklace is as cold as ice against my skin.
Reid and I are dressed alike—no bright colors or fancy designs. Plain, simple, and unnoticeable. Like Bray said, the last thing we want is to wake a sleeping beast—the Minders, Hunters, and Ghosts roaming the forest between the Mines and Aravid.
I follow Reid out of the cavern, down dusty tunnels, and up stairways. At the top of one, he opens the latch of a trapdoor and disappears outside.
Taking in a breath, I stare up at the starry sky and put one foot in front of the other, wondering if Greer will be with us when we return. Or if we fail to find the Maze, will Bray be waiting at the end of this tunnel, ready to fulfill his oath to drag me back to Craewick to watch my mother’s murder?
But there’s one question that haunts me even if this plan goes off without a hitch. If we free Greer from the Maze, what will he say to the girl who betrayed him?
CHAPTER
6
The forest surrounding the Mines is a sea of rich colors glimmering in the starlight. Ruby reds, mossy greens, rusty oranges, and pale yellows. It’s such a change from all the gray in Craewick that I spin once to take it in before looking up.
Hidden high in these dense trees are scouts ready to shoot an arrow into anyone they don’t recognize, an unfortunate consequence of getting too close to one of the hidden entrances. Normally, we’d transfer our memories of the base into a scout, but as Reid is a Sifter and I’m unreadable, both our minds are protected from anyone we might come across in the woodlands.
Reid swings his pack onto his back and his bow over his shoulder. “We’re two days from Aravid. We can’t take any breaks and we won’t stop hiking until nightfall. We’ll rest a few hours then get moving again.” He doesn’t move, clearly wanting to take up the rear.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll keep watch.”
“Not a chance.”
I lift my chin. “I remember how dangerous it is out here. Worried I’ve lost all my Shadow senses?”
“Something like that,” he replies.
Fastening a knife to my belt, I put my pack over my shoulder. “Don’t look so worried, Reid. I’m very good at what I do. Didn’t Bray tell you?”
“He did, right before he mentioned you were a liar with a hidden agenda.”
I give him my sweetest smile. “Only on my best days.”
As we walk, I catch glimpses of my old life with the Shadows. Memories of Cade, Joss, and Penn that I’d buried deep enough to forget, but the calm of these woods rattles them from their hiding place.
Cade darts between the trees, calling for us to keep up. Though Cade’s hair was curlier and his green eyes as light as moss without any gold flecks, his face was nearly identical to Bray’s.
Beside me, Joss giggles in a way Cade alone makes her do, sweeping her dark braid over her shoulder as she chases after him.
Penn’s shoulder brushes against mine, and I turn to smile at him before my friends disappear.
The sound of Reid’s vo
ice pulls me from the memories. “This has to be difficult for you.”
I angle toward him as I step over a fallen log. “In what way? The fact that my mother is days away from being murdered, or that I just pledged my life to a man who wants to murder me himself?”
“All of it.” Reid motions around us. “Shadows spend most of their lives traveling through these woods. Does it bring up a lot of memories?”
I bite my lip. What am I going to tell him? That with every leaf crunching beneath my boots, Cade appears, all gangly legs and boundless energy, running circles around us? That the babbling brook we’re passing sounds like Joss’s laugh, the funny sound we used to tease her about just to make her giggle more? That every time a bird whistles, high and sharp, I see Penn put his hands to his mouth and match it perfectly?
I think of Baldwin in the asylum, who lives deep inside his mind. The nurses call him imprisoned, but maybe it’s better to be imprisoned with people you love than free and alone.
Fiddling with the necklace Bray had given me, I don’t answer Reid. Instead, I ask, “You know why I pledged to Bray, but why did you?” I point at his unbranded left wrist. “No tattoo, so the Minders don’t know you exist. Why would someone with a Gift as powerful as yours willingly give up his freedom?”
In his silence, my memories flare up, dragging me back to the moment I learned just how terrifying a Sifter’s Gift could be . . .
These two Minders can’t be much older than me. Both are Gifted, but only one is a Sifter. I can’t see his tattoo, but I can tell he has the rare Gift by the row of metals on his uniform, a sure sign he’s training to become a commander.
Sifters are prized by the Minders, often rising quickly through the ranks to lead large battalions. Unlike the rest of us, their minds hold so much energy that it serves as a barrier against other Sifters, a guard they can choose to let down whenever they wish to share memories.
Under the sweltering Kripen sun, the boys circle one another on the street like the hounds guarding Madame’s mansion.