by Lizzy Ford
“I do not care to argue with my beloved sister over someone who means so little to me,” Arthur added.
She hugged his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder briefly as they walked to the door. “I wish you would come see me more often,” she whispered, thoughts on how displeased Matilda was going to be after Arthur’s cold shoulder. When he was present, Matilda dared not touch her.
“I will, Tiana, after the Winter Hunt.”
But that’s three weeks, maybe longer. She almost sighed and shifted from her own inevitable peril to her brother’s. “What will you do if you see the Ghouls?” she asked.
They exited her room and fell into line behind their stepmother, who was flanked by half a dozen slaves. The party began walking through the family’s gilded, private quarters to the elevator at the center of the apartment.
“What I always do. Tell them to leave me alone,” Arthur quipped. “I do not fear creatures that may not exist, Tiana. The natives pose the greatest threat.”
“We are at peace with them, are we not?”
“Meat is scarce in winter, and any truce we form with them during a time of plenty is gone when we are both trying to feed our people,” he explained. “Those to the north, where the buffalo herds are, have never agreed to our treaties anyway.”
“I would love to meet the natives in the villages near the city and see buffalos!”
“You are safe here.”
“Am I?” She allowed the soft question to escape.
His jaw tightened to the point the muscles snapped in his cheek. “I know,” he said. “I found someone to guard you while I am away for these two weeks.”
“Matilda will not approve.”
“Matilda will not know.”
“You can take me with you,” she said wistfully. “I want to witness snow fall upon the prairies and walk across the frozen lakes!”
“Someday.”
It was all he ever said when she expressed an interest in leaving the city. Tiana’s cheeks warmed at the reminder even her dear brother believed her deformities casted an egregious shame upon the family, one that had to be kept hidden from everyone forever. She would never leave her room, aside from obligatory events, let alone venture from the city to the world beyond.
“I heard the slaves talking about the Free Lands to the north,” she continued and then held her breath, waiting to hear what her brother said on the matter. Slaves often spoke of nonsense, according to Matilda. Tiana, confined her entire life, had no real experience or basis to help her determine what was true and what was not.
“Tiana, if I knew somewhere you could go, where you would be safe, do you not think I would do everything in my power to send you there?” Arthur replied.
“You would,” she said. She hid her disappointment, aware of how much her brother cared yet suspecting he either did not know about the Free Lands or did not wish to encourage her in her desire to eventually leave the city.
They fell into comfortable silence as they joined their stepmother’s party. Trailed by her train of slaves, Matilda went first down the elevator from the top of the pyramid to the indoor village contained within its base, where their father and other members of the privileged awaited them. The massive structure, guarded by a sphinx and obelisk, had survived the destruction of the Old World, the period five hundred years before when Lost Vegas had existed as a city of luxury before it became a refuge for the few that survived the demise of the Old World. The wealthiest survivors had gathered here, and since then, only the most powerful families in the city were permitted to live in the great pyramid.
From the apartment at the tip of the pyramid, the word, Luxor, could be seen written across the floor far below. Tiana had often gazed at it and wondered what it meant, why someone had named the exotic building this.
She and Arthur followed in the second lift, lowered from the height of two hundred feet by electricity – existing only in the elite outer city – and by a team of mules at the bottom when the electricity was not working, which was half the time.
She kept hold of her brother’s arm as they left the elevator and were immediately surrounded by throngs of the wealthiest members of the city. People always stopped to stare at her, curious about the elusive daughter of their leader. None of them had ever seen her face, and the slaves often spoke about how various men and women would try to bribe those working for the family for information about the mysterious Hanover daughter.
For her part, Tiana did not mind the excessive attention, as long as she was safe behind her veil and at her brother’s side. She had eyes only for what lay beyond the confines of her home.
She and Arthur moved into place behind their father and stepmother, who led the small parade from the pyramid, outside into the outer city and onward to the top of the commemorative wall, where they would watch the Shield depart for the wilderness.
The procession out of the pyramid housing the elite families of Lost Vegas was solemn, a reflection of the importance of the Winter Hunt. It was the first day of the annual hunt, which began every year on winter solstice. Led by her brother, half the Shield members left Lost Vegas in search of the meat the city needed to make it through the rest of the winter. Her father spent the week before the Hunt honoring the gods of every major religion in the city and visiting various clergy members, scientists and clairvoyants to determine the type of weather to expect and in which direction the great herds of buffalo and deer would be found.
The men and women he consulted, as well as his advisors from the lower castes, joined the procession in positions of honor.
Tiana stepped with her brother outside for the first time in several months and drew a deep breath of frigid air.
The street before the procession was lined by Shield members in scarlet. Citizens from all castes were packed behind the lines of soldiers as far as Tiana could see, straining for one glimpse of the elusive, powerful Hanover family. Many people appeared worried, and she resisted the urge to tell them her father had never been wrong about where to find food in his thirty years of leadership. His uncanny knack for analyzing the information provided from the clergy, scientists and clairvoyants, and identifying where his men would find food, was one reason why he was regarded as the greatest leader of Lost Vegas in five hundred years. The other reason: his dedication to ridding the city of criminals and those suffering from hereditary deformities. His solution was simple. He burned anyone who exhibited any sign of disfigurement or who tried to protect such people.
Tiana looked from the expectant, concerned crowds to her father then to Arthur, who had led the Winter Hunt for the past five years in his father’s place. She often wondered if Arthur would make the same kind of leader as their father, if his kindness and compassion would disappear once he assumed their father’s mantle. It did not seem possible her father was born the way he was, and she had long since drawn the conclusion that her deformities had caused him so much grief, he simply stopped feeling and grew impartial to the entire world.
Would something equally terrible happen to Arthur one day and expel his warmth and smile?
The thought of her brother suffering as much as she imagined her father had left her chest tight with anxiety.
Soon, however, the dark thoughts vanished, and Tiana began to strain to see the world outside the open gates. Beyond the city’s defensive measures, the world consisted of snow on snow, with white prairies meeting gray skies in the distance. The brown path leading away from the gates of the city contrasted with the frosted surroundings. Beyond the prairie, in the distance, she spotted the forest. Somewhere beyond it, too far to see, were mountains tall enough to pierce the sky.
Winter air penetrated her veil and chilled her face. She shivered, delighted by the sensation of being outside.
Arthur loosened her grip from his arm. “Can you walk without me, sister?”
She tested her body. She felt frailer than usual but also buoyed by the prospect of glimpsing the outside world. She would not embar
rass her father by falling or collapsing.
“I am well, Arthur,” she replied.
“I will see you soon,” he said for her ears only before he strode from the procession to the small group of men and horses waiting by the gate.
Tiana clenched her hands together, wanting to beg him not to leave her, to take her with him. In the end, she remained silent and continued along the designated parade route a short distance to what remained of the great wall that used to circle the city. As part of the trade agreements and peace truces with the local natives, the wall had been torn down a generation before hers, except for this commemorative stretch, where her father gave speeches several times a year to the city.
The path running along the inside of the massive stone and brick structure was wide enough for two people to walk shoulder to shoulder and smooth from wear.
She trailed her father and stepmother and then took her place at her father’s side looking out over the world outside the city.
It was the one time every year when she saw this world, and she stared, mesmerized by how large it appeared to be. The forest stretched in every direction. Her brother had told her stories of the kinds of animals dwelling in the woods, of lakes twice the size of the city, of wastelands where nothing grew in the far south, and to the west, of the ocean he claimed was bluer than the sky and extended across half the planet.
She had never set foot in any of it. If her family had it their way, she never would. At seventeen, she was not permitted to leave her rooms, unless it was for one of these special occasions.
Matilda snatched her arm hard enough to bruise, and Tiana blinked, snapping back from her imagination to her immediate surroundings. Her father had moved to the edge of the wall to offer his blessings to his son and the dozens of men in scarlet and his command to fill the empty wagons with meat.
Her stepmother motioned discreetly but frantically towards the ground at Tiana’s feet. Tiana glanced down and saw the snow hugging her feet beginning to float upward, toward the sky.
Ordering the snowflakes to lie flat again, she shifted her dress in an effort to hide the unusual movement. Matilda released her, and Tiana forced her attention from the vast world she longed to explore to her current situation. When she let her mind wander, or when she was upset, strange powers emerged. As much as she wanted to drink in the sights before her, she dared not lose focus in front of so many people, especially not when Matilda was watching.
Tiana listened dutifully to her father give the traditional Winter Hunt speech, eyes on her brother. The Hunt was dangerous, and usually, only half the men who left the walls ever returned. Arthur claimed the Ghouls did not exist, but she had heard the slaves speak of seeing the creatures inhabiting the plains, awakened from hibernation when the Old World was destroyed five centuries before. Many cities exiled their deformed members rather than burning them, which meant the forests were filled with grotesquely disfigured men and women who behaved with the wildness of animals. Finally, the hostile natives who had reclaimed their lands when the Old World fell knew no boundaries and freely roamed all the lands outside the cities. They claimed ownership over everything and killed any city dweller they crossed.
As scared as she was for her brother’s life, Tiana was unable to convince herself that life here was much better than what lay beyond the city’s edge. She would rather be free and face all the dangers of the world combined. Or better yet – flee towards the Free Lands, where everyone was said to live in harmony, no matter what caste or deformity had defined them in their previous lives.
Her father’s deep voice quieted. The soldiers below, led by Arthur, wheeled their horses and started down the path leading towards the forest.
Tiana wrung her hands once more, worried about her brother. Her gaze slid to the man riding at her brother’s right, his closest friend, a man from a family lower in the social strata scale but still respectable. He had been trained as a guardian and raised with Arthur, who was his ward.
As with her twenty year old brother, the young man, Warner, had filled out almost completely, turning from a boy to a man within the span of a year. She watched him often through the peepholes and secret hiding spots in the family’s apartments when he visited Arthur. Warner had a large, strong build and was handsome enough that the slaves giggled when they spoke of him. When Warner was with her brother, she did not fear Arthur’s return. Her brother always boasted of how his friend was the best fighter in the Shield and the first to defend him, if he were in trouble.
Those on top of the walls watched in silence for a full ten minutes in the cold before her father shifted away. Everyone else followed his lead. With regret, Tiana turned her back to the outside world and obediently trailed her stepmother towards the outer city and into the pyramid where she lived.
As was customary, a feast followed the commencement of the Winter Hunt, though Tiana was never permitted to enjoy any of it. The other wealthy women removed their veils to eat, but she was forbidden from doing so and sat stiffly and unmoving at her father’s left until he dismissed her. Her stomach growled, and she ignored it, fascinated by the people around her she rarely saw.
The leader of the Shield appeared to have aged twenty years in the past nine months, when she had seen him last. Matilda told her he had been very ill, and it showed on his gaunt features.
Matilda’s father, Christian Cruise, the wealthiest man in the city, was old and stooped and fed by two slaves. His wife, however, was little older than Matilda, and the two women shot each other frequent looks of resentment that left Tiana amused.
The rest of the men and women privileged enough to sit with the Hanover’s and the wealthiest man in the city were themselves from the original families to settle the city and were too busy trying to impress one another to be interesting to Tiana.
The adults talked around her and seemed not to notice her at all, to which she was accustomed. She paid no one any attention, until she heard her name on the lips of one of the men. Startled, she focused on him.
“I am afraid our sweet Tiana is of too sickly a nature to consider marrying,” Matilda was responding smoothly.
“It is a shame, is it not? We have long wished to cement the relationship our families enjoy,” the man replied, glancing from Matilda to Tiana’s father.
“As my wife said, Tiana is too frail,” her father replied with firmness no one would question.
The man bowed his head.
Tiana studied him. Did he mean for her to marry him? He was old and fat, and his teeth were crooked. When he looked to the man on his other side, she began to think he wanted her to marry his son, who was nowhere near as handsome or strong as Warner. If she were forced to wed any man, she hoped it would be the friend of her brother. Thinking of Warner twisted her stomach into knots and sent her blood racing.
No one said anything else about her the rest of the dinner. Tiana retired to her room before anyone else, accompanied by three slaves who left her alone at the entrance of the family’s apartment.
She went to her room and lifted off the veil, able to see clearly once more. She took off the coat and hugged it in place of her brother then smoothed the fur lining and replaced it in the wardrobe. She removed the ceremonial sash and gown and placed them in the wardrobe in exactly the way Matilda had shown her. Changing into one of her sleeping gowns, which she wore most of the day, every day, Tiana approached the door and touched the smooth wood with her fingertips. She felt energized after the half hour she spent outdoors and ached to leave her room to experience more.
Without Matilda’s overbearing presence, and with the slaves occupied by the feast, the apartment was quiet. She often stood before the door leading from her room to the rest of the family’s quarters and debated what it would be like to be able to open the door at will and go wherever she wanted. She was forbidden from such action now by both her father and her stepmother. While she understood their reasoning, she still let herself imagine how incredible it would be to walk out, greet the
slaves and go to a feast where she could actually eat the amazing food featured on the banquet tables.
Tiana smiled and began to hum then twirl around her room, imagining herself at a ball, dancing with Warner. In her imagination, her deformities did not exist, everyone in her family loved her, and she was happy.
A pillow grazed her arm, floating from the bed to dance with her. She snatched it out of the air with a giggle and hugged it. How her deformities allowed her to use her mind to move objects, to occasionally glimpse a person’s thoughts, and to sense some events before they happened, she did not know. The strange magic was difficult to control and impossible to predict, except that it would always act up when she least wanted it to.
Tiana danced with the pillow and barely kept from tripping over her brush as it floated towards her, too. In fact, every piece of furniture and every item she possessed hovered in the air.
Matilda’s sharp voice came from the hallway.
“Down!” Tiana ordered the inanimate objects urgently, panicking at the idea of Matilda witnessing her sorcery. Everything dropped back to its place, and she snatched the brush from the floor. She had barely managed to return it to the vanity and tossed the pillow back on the bed before her door opened.
“You nearly exposed yourself!” Matilda snapped and slammed the door. She marched to the drawer in Tiana’s vanity where the white, powdery medicines were kept. Opening it, she stared. “Have you touched them?” she demanded and whirled.
“No,” Tiana replied, eyes on the floor. “The vanity floated a little.”
“Again?” Matilda snatched a bag from the drawer.
“I apologize, Matilda.”
“You have no idea what it is like to live with you, to fear you will cause us all to be burnt, because you refuse to control this sinful sorcery!” Matilda shouted. “Do you want me to be burned alive? To hear me scream alongside the rest of the deformed freaks your father burns every Sunday?”