The Diminished

by Kaitlyn Sage Patterson

  I could feel Bo tensing beside me, and I put a hand on top of his.

  “I tried so hard, Vi, but they saw me speak to you in the basement. They must’ve known all along that we’d come up together. I didn’t tell them much, honest. Just your name. Your birthday. Where you’d said your ma was from. It was hardly anything, I promise,” she said pleadingly. “But they brought me with them last night and made me confirm that you were the girl I’d been talking about. They promised if I did, they’d keep me safe, comfortable. They promised they’d keep me whole.” Her hand sketched over the bandage on her arm. “But they lied. I’d served my purpose. Anchorite Tafima said it was time to be rid of me. She must’ve thought I’d bleed to death before anyone found me.”

  “What did she show you at the temple, Vi?” Swinton asked.

  As quick as I could, I told them what I’d seen. Quill’s lips pressed tight together, and Swinton looked fit to burst with rage.

  “They killed my Taeb, didn’t they, Swinton?” Bethesda’s knife-edged voice was hard as steel.

  “I’ve been saying so for years, Mama.” Swinton took Bo’s hand. “Whatever help I can give you, it’s yours.”

  Bo’s eyes lit with adoration, and he gave Swinton a swift kiss.

  “It’s not only that,” Curlin said, giving Bo and me a pointed look. “The Shriven know who you are now. They know who you both are, and someone high up in the temple wants Vi captured in order to control you.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that,” Bo said grimly. “But putting aside our situation for a moment... The Suzerain are contracting estates to grow philomenas not for perfume, but to create an elixir that makes people lose themselves to violence, which they’re using to turn people into the diminished. Do I have that right?”

  Curlin nodded. “It’s strategic. The dimmys are set to wreak havoc on neighborhoods or towns where folks aren’t as devout as the Suzerain would like. The Shriven catch the dimmys and folks see the value of contributing to the temple’s coffers. Not to mention the fact that the simple presence of the Shriven terrifies most folks. Makes them behave.”

  Bo twisted the cuff on his wrist absently. “I have to get back. I have to tell Runa what’s happening. She’ll never stand for this.”

  Swinton gave him a hard look. “You think she doesn’t already know? She’s the Queen. The most powerful person in the empire.”

  “I’ve got to find a way to stop it myself.”

  My heart glowed with pride. Perhaps he wasn’t such a useless brat after all.

  “Will you help us, Curlin?” I asked.

  She turned to me, shock plain on her face. “After everything I’ve done to you, why would you even consider trusting me?”

  I took another roll from the platter and bit into it, savoring the spicy, rich duck and soft, buttery bread. “Because you’re a dimmy from the End, just like me. And the anchorites forced you into impossible situations, just like me. And I think somewhere under all that nose-in-the-air superiority, there’s someone who doesn’t want to stand by and let things happen to her anymore.”

  A slow smile lit Curlin’s face, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I saw the girl who’d been my best friend once, long ago. “I’ll help. I’ll do anything in my power to stop them from hurting anyone else.”

  * * *

  We debated for a long time. Bo had to return to Penby, and soon, and Swinton’d agreed to go with him with hardly a moment’s hesitation. An adventure, he’d called it. A chance to see how the other half lived. Bo thought it would be best for Curlin and me to return with him, as well. We could hide on his estates until he sorted things out with the Queen. It made sense in a way, to get away from the place the Shriven were searching for me. But Curlin was adamant—and I agreed—that they’d kill us as soon as look at us if we were seen in Alskad. We finally agreed that Curlin and I would stay in Williford until our arms recovered, and we’d try to find our way to the rebel stronghold in Ilor’s backcountry.

  We all felt fair certain that we could buy our way into the resistance with my pearls, Bo’s funds and Curlin’s knowledge of the inner workings of the temple. The rebels had to be told about the Suzerain and their philomena poison. It seemed possible, too, that if Myrna and Aphra had escaped Plumleen, we’d find them with the rebels. I knew they’d vouch for me.

  It promised to be difficult and risky. Bo especially hated the idea that I’d align myself with a dangerous and largely unknown rebel force, but of our choices, the resistance was, at the very least, working toward a goal we all believed in. Together, we might be strong enough to stop the Suzerain and put an end to the mistreatment of the contract workers who came to Ilor looking for a better life.

  Mal and Quill had agreed to pass letters for Bo and me, secreting them across the Tethys on their uncle’s ship and to Gerlene. The solicitor would deliver my letters to Bo and see that his got back across the Tethys to me by the same route. Bethesda offered Curlin and me safe harbor anytime we found ourselves in Williford, and Quill swore he’d keep me up to date on the royal gossip.

  Before I’d time to wrap my head around it, I was standing on the docks, bidding Bo and Swinton farewell. Swinton hugged me tight and kissed me on the cheek.

  “Promise me you won’t let him do anything too reckless,” I said.

  Swinton’s grin matched Bo’s. “Promise. Try to keep yourself in one piece, bully. You hear me?”

  I shrugged, smiling, and wrapped my arms around Bo. “I couldn’t have asked for a better brother. Please take care. I’m not anxious to face the world alone again.”

  Bo made a sound into my neck, somewhere between a sob and a laugh, and pulled away and kissed me on the forehead. “I love you, Vi. We’ve each managed to conquer so much on our own—imagine what we’ll be able to do now that we have each other.”

  I didn’t know if I believed him, but I knew that I believed in him. I believed in us. I knew that I didn’t need anyone else to make me a whole person, but the two of us together made something well worth watching.

  A sob caught in my throat as the ship chugged out toward the open ocean, carrying my twin halfway across the world. And I caught sight of him, standing at the rail, waving his handkerchief at me. The sun beat down on me, and sweat prickled my skin, but the memory of Alskad’s icy air and gray sea washed over me nonetheless. I pulled my own handkerchief from my pocket and waved back. Waved until I couldn’t see him anymore. Waved until the last tickle of his love for me was nothing but a memory in my own head.

  With that, I started inland. I’d seen a world of wrongs, and I was determined to do my part to right them.

  * * * * *

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Writing this book has been an exercise in dualities—solitude and collaboration; tenacity and patience; research and imagination. I am deeply grateful to the legion of people who’ve supported me along the way, who’ve reminded me that I’m not alone, who’ve pushed me to keep pursuing this dream. It is deeply humbling to know that so many people believed in Vi, in Bo and in me.

  This book wouldn’t exist without my incredible, patient, brilliant agent, Brent Taylor. From that very first live Tweet, I knew it was meant to be. Thank you for always being there for me with smart answers to my illogical worries and solutions to every problem I encounter. I cannot imagine a better advocate for my career or a better friend, and I’m so happy to be walking through the wild world of publishing with you at my side. Thank you for your generosity, your humor and your brilliant notes. The Shriven wouldn’t exist without you.

  An ocean of gratitude to my wonderful editor, Lauren Smulski. This world came alive in your hands. Thank you for believing in me and the world of The Diminished. I am so grateful for your marvelous notes, which made this world and these characters sing, and for making my words so much stronger. Thanks for helping me sketch Penby on a cocktail napkin. Most of all, thank you for loving
Vi and Bo just as much as I do.

  To everyone at Harlequin TEEN who managed to turn my words into a real, actual book: You are my heroes. Thank you to Kathleen Oudit and Mary Luna in the art department, who broke the moon and made Penby real. A huge, warm thanks to Natashya Wilson and T.S. Ferguson for your unerring support and for always making me laugh. I am everlastingly grateful to Krista Mitchell, Bryn Collier and Evan Brown in marketing—thank you for making sure the world knew all about The Diminished.

  I am lucky to call some of the most intelligent, unflinching editors in the world my friends. To Emily Thrash and Ashley Paige-Powers, thank you for slogging through the early drafts of this book and helping me find Bo. Huge thanks to Ashley and Nora Moser for asking me the hard questions, helping me clarify my timelines and making me think about the nitty-gritty details that make Alskad feel so real. I don’t know that I could have gotten through querying or submission without Lana Wood Johnson and her constant support. A huge thanks to Daniel Felts for his incredible insight and for always being there to take the dogs on long walks. Thank you as well to Cale Dietrich, for being a great friend and for such insightful notes. I am so grateful to Anastasia Shabalov for our long discussions, her brilliant ideas and for reading oh-so-quickly. To Nena Boling-Smith, thank you for giving such great notes, for your generosity and for the long chats.

  I have been given a great boon in the friends I’ve made along the way, and I wanted to say thank you and send big love to the following, in no particular order: Thalia Beaty, Elizabeth Kirkwood, Valerie Kelly, Natalie Parker, Julia Whelan, Logan Garrison Savits, Heidi Heilig, E.K. Johnston, Lauren Spieller, Sarah N. Smetana, Laura Lam, Jessica Spotswood, Bree Barton, Kelly deVos, Dana Mele, Rachel Lynn Solomon, Samira Ahmed, Kosoko Jackson, Alexa Donne, L.L. McKinney, Tara Sim, Traci Chee, Sarah Tolscer, Emma Higinbotham, Chandra Rooney, Troy Wiggins, Jason Barnett, Olivia Wilmot, Bob Arnold, Lauren Hales, Eva Beckemeyer, Tara Shaffer, Jen at Pop Goes the Reader!, the ladies of The Debutante Ball, the Class of 2k18 and my lovely Electrics. Thank you.

  To the Fight Me Club: I honestly don’t know if I could have made it this far without you. Thank you for everything, salt included.

  To Whitney Gardner and Summer Heacock: Thank you for being the best agent-sisters and friends a girl could ask for. So much love for you both.

  At certain points along the way, I found my way to teachers who believed in me enough to tell me that, yes, I could become an author. Thank you to Alice Holstein, Michael Knight, Marilyn Kallet, Rebecca Skloot, John Bensko, Carey Holladay and Carey Mickalites. See, I went and did it! I wrote a book!

  Thank you also to the people whose critiques I hear in my head whenever I write: Michael Adams, Jenny Lederer, Jon May, Scott Carter, Courtney Santo and Tara Mae Mulroy. I think of you each time I use a gerund.

  I couldn’t have gotten this far without the support of my incredible family. To Mama and Dad: You have always cultivated my imagination and allowed me to be fearless and independent. My life has been full of adventure because of your hard work and the value you place on experiences over stuff. Thank you for always encouraging me to take the big leaps. To Hannah: Thank you for sharing with me your overwhelming talent, your love of story and your friendship. You’re the best sister anyone could ever have. To Pop: Thank you for telling me stories, and teaching me in turn to let my imagination soar. Thank you for sharing with me your love of history—it’s the details I find in the annals of time that are always the most surprising. Love. Love. Love.

  To my in-laws: Ronda and James, thank you for welcoming me so warmly into your home and your family, and for being so understanding and giving. Ed and Max, I will always appreciate your kindness, your generosity and your inclusion of me in your family. Katie and Dana, thank you for all the laughs and for being my sisters from the beginning. I love you all.

  Though they’re no longer around, I am deeply grateful to Iya, for my love of etiquette books and knowing when to break the rules; to Grandmother Patterson, for giving me a roof where I could read and escape; and to Pop and Grandma, for my sense of adventure and love of travel. I miss you.

  To Cody: This book wouldn’t exist without you. Thank you for being my best, first reader. Thank you for understanding me and loving me and for being the one person with whom I can be entirely myself. Thank you for being patient when I have to disappear into my writing cave for weeks at a time, for drying my tears when I spend too much time peopling, for making every day brighter and funnier, for enhancing my life with your art and for always taking care of me and our dogs. You are the kindest, most talented person I know, and I love you beyond all the worlds I can imagine.

  Finally, thank you, reader, for picking this book up. It’s a dream come true.

  ISBN-13: 9781488030420

  The Diminished

  Copyright © 2018 by Kaitlyn Sage Patterson

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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