by Leigh Walker
“Why did you do that?”
Her dark eyes glittered, and she pursed her lips. “Because we’re about to make a deal with the devil.”
I shivered. “We don’t know what they are, Mother. Not for sure.”
She rummaged through a cupboard. “I thought we weren’t pretending anymore.” She brought out a bottle filled with amber liquid, poured two shots, and slid one into my hand.
“You’re letting me have alcohol?” I sniffed the liquid, wincing as it burned my nose.
She clinked her glass against mine. “For courage.”
I sighed. Courage was something I’d struggled with since the strange royal family had taken over our land and our lives. I’d tried to be brave and keep our family afloat, but I lived with fear every day—fear for my family’s existence, fear that my father and Balkyn were never coming back, fear that my younger brother and sister were going to end up slaves.
And now, I was headed to the palace in the morning, to the home of the very people responsible for our predicament. Courage, indeed. “I’ll drink to that.”
My mother finished her shot quickly then sighed. “You’re fortunate to be beautiful, Gwyn. That’s why you were given this opportunity.”
I frowned. “But it’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “It is, indeed. Far better to be clever than beautiful, my mother always said.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Good thing you’re both.” Mother eyed me. “Your looks can’t save you in the end. Only your wits can do that.”
“I know.” I grimaced. “I’ll do what I can to win. I know what it would mean for our family.” I’d rather stick a hot poker in my eye and eat spiders than marry the prince, but I wasn’t in a position to be picky.
When he’d left for the war, I’d promised my father I’d take care of the family. I would give my life to keep that promise. He’d done as much for me.
Mom’s gaze held mine. “Good girl. Do your best, but never forget where you came from. Never forget who you are, and never, ever let yourself forget who they are.”
“They’re the reason Daddy and Balkyn are gone. I could never forget.”
“Your father told me something before he left, something I should pass on to you.”
I put the glass down without drinking, which I’d heard was bad luck, but at this point, what could it matter? “I’m listening.”
She put her hands on my shoulders and faced me. “You are a West, and that means you’re a survivor. You’re going to make it through this. I know you will.”
“It’s a beauty pageant, Mom, not a prison camp.”
She arched an eyebrow. “It might be more cutthroat than you think. The competition’s going to be fierce.”
My stomach flipped. “You think it will be…dangerous?” I’d thought it would be boring and sort of posh, a bunch of girls sitting around on velvet couches and eating tarts.
“You haven’t seen a lot of the world. I blame myself and your father. He wanted you all to grow up in a bubble. Safe, happy, protected. You don’t know how brutal the world can be, Gwyn. The royal family are creatures of the night, and the settlements are starving. Every girl in this competition is going to be fighting for their lives, for their family’s lives. Of course, it’s going to be dangerous. You’ll be surrounded by people trying to knock you down or elbow you out of the way, darling. Or worse.”
I decided to try the drink. The tiny sip burned as it worked its way down my throat.
“Back to what your father told me. Being a West means being a survivor, but sometimes surviving is the worst thing. It means you live through terrible times and see things you wish you could unsee. You’ll live to see your friends and family suffer. But you’re a West, and that means you don’t give up, and you don’t get to roll over and hide your eyes. So if something bad happens during the next few weeks, speak up. Stand up for what you believe. But for the love of all things holy, stay alive.”
I had more of the drink. The burning in my throat distracted me from the throb in my head. “Why are they doing this? I’m sure the prince could have any girl he wanted. They brought thousands of them down from the North.”
“But those aren’t human girls, and they aren’t settlers. The royal family is smarter than that. It’s been five years, and we still haven’t accepted the new government. They must know the settlements are planning a revolt. This is their way of binding us to them, one of our own becoming a princess. One of our own to someday become the queen and rule over the settlements.”
I nodded. “It’s a way to appease us, to make us feel like we’re their equal.”
“All while keeping us enslaved, waiting on our rations, our men dead or imprisoned.” My mother fingered the necklace my father had given her, a solitary diamond on a gold chain. She would have to sell it soon. And probably do things a lot worse than that.
“Do you think they’re still alive? Daddy and Balkyn?”
“Sometimes at night, I think I can feel him or hear him and your brother, but it’s only the wind. If they’ve gone on, I know it’s to a better place. But we aren’t ready to join them, Gwyn.” She smiled and tapped me on the chin. “Not just yet.”
Chapter 3
Girl On The Train
At exactly six the next morning, our doorbell rang. Winnie and Remy still slept soundly on the floor. I’d decided not to wake them to say goodbye. I didn’t want them to cry, or worse, to panic.
I was trying to keep panic at bay.
Plus, I was pretty sure I’d be the one to break down.
The silent sentinel waited as I buttoned my coat and my mother fussed over me. She smoothed my hair and kissed my forehead. “Please write to me as soon as you get there. Let me know everything, Gwyneth.”
“I will, Mother. I promise. Tell Tavi and Lyra what happened, okay? Tell them I’ll write. And please tell Remy and Winnie I love them. Tell Winnie I’ll get the prince’s autograph for her.”
My mother beamed, but dark circles bloomed like bruises beneath her eyes. The sentinel cleared his throat. Time to go.
My throat closed up. “I love you.” I glanced back at my brother and sister, fear gnawing at me. For some reason, I worried I’d never see them again.
It’s just a beauty pageant, not a prison camp.
“Wait a minute,” I told the sentinel and rushed to the living room. I kissed the top of Remy’s head, then Winnie’s.
Winnie swatted at me. “Gwyn, stop.”
“You little nerdlings need to know something. I love you. Be good for Mother. Help her with the wood.” I nodded at Remy. “You keep track of the logs, and make sure to note when we’re running low. I’m counting on you.”
His eyes were huge. “Okay.”
“I love you.” I kissed his cheeks, then Winnie’s. Wiping the tears from my face, I nodded at my mother.
Then I followed the sentinel out into the freezing, silent morning.
He didn’t say a word as his boots crunched over the frosty earth. His uniform was gray flannel, warm and functional. It looked new and immaculately pressed.
The sun started to rise in the east, a pinkish hue surrounding it. I peered at the guard. He didn’t look concerned. He was human, then.
I wasn’t so sure about the rest of them. The royal family only made appearances after the sun had set. During the Great War, the royal guard had staged all of their attacks against the settlements at night.
Although the guard hadn’t spoken, I found enough nerve to ask him a question. “Where are you from?”
“The city.” His accent was flat, familiar.
“How’d they get you to work for them?” I blurted out. It was probably the only chance he had at a regular paycheck, but still. He was human and from here. I hadn’t realized our kind worked for them.
He looked at me sharply. “You’re not allowed to talk to any males except for the prince and the royal emissary unless one of us asks you a direct question,” the guard said q
uickly. “Don’t say another word to me.”
I didn’t. I bit my lip instead.
We passed the golden Joan of Arc, one of the city’s few remaining statues, a reminder of our settlement’s former glory. Silently, the guard led me to the train station, his face pale and stoic as we waited for the train. I’d never ridden a train before. When I was in school, a hired car had taken me to the academy and to my private lessons. Now, I walked everywhere I needed to go. Before the war, only workers had used the trains. Now, no one used it except for the government.
I held my breath as a train approached, metal wheels squealing against the tracks. I obediently followed the guard aboard, clutching my lone bag of possessions. The doors closed behind us, and before I was ready, the train jerked to life. I had to scramble into a nearby seat before I fell flat on my face.
“Awkward.” The girl in the seat next to mine admired her nail polish, not looking up. “I like it.”
“I’m sorry?” The guard stood nearby, but he didn’t correct me for speaking to the girl.
She eyed me from beneath her strawberry-blond curls. “I said you’re awkward. And that I liked it.”
The girl, although rude, was very pretty. She must be another contestant. “I’m…Gwyneth.” I held out my hand. “Gwyneth West, Settlement Four.”
She eyed my hand until I gave up and dropped it into my lap.
“I’m Eve. Settlement Four as well.”
“I’ve never seen you before.” I was surprised. Our settlement was one of the smaller ones, and I’d assumed the other contestant would be from my school or one of the other elite academies.
“That’s because they went slumming for me.” She smiled without warmth. “I’m from the projects.”
“Oh.” I racked my brain for something appropriate to say to the bristly girl.
Her aqua eyes flicked over me. “I know you’re from the Upper East End. You don’t have to talk to me.”
“Uh… I might not talk to you because you’re a jerk, but I could care less where you live.”
A small smile tugged at the outer edges of her lips. She held out her hand. “Eve Whitely, unwilling and ungrateful contestant in the Pageant.”
My guard’s eyes widened at her boldness. Her guard shifted away, as if she might be contagious.
I leaned forward. “Let’s talk more about that later, shall we? What school did you go to?” I deftly changed the subject, my mother’s years of social training kicking in.
“The slum school. I take it you went to the Upper Academy?”
I nodded. “Have you met any of the other girls?”
She shook her head. “Rusty here”—she motioned to the guard next to her, who had red hair—“said we aren’t allowed to mingle with the girls from the other settlements. Not until we get there.”
I licked my lips. “Do you know where we’re going?”
“The palace, I’m guessing.” Eve shrugged. “Where else are they going to lock us all up?”
I coughed and gave her a warning look. “I’m sure they won’t need to do that. It’s just a beauty pageant, after all.”
“Just a beauty pageant, huh?” Eve leaned back against her seat, all lazy confidence. “You have met other girls before, haven’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“Not to mention that the prince and his stiff parents are filthy bloodsuckers. My money says they’ll be locking us up ASAP.”
I coughed, spluttering a bit. My mother had been right. I’d been raised in a bubble. I’d never heard someone speak so brazenly before. Even the other traders at the black market wouldn’t dare.
Eve grinned, a rogue’s smile. “Just saying.”
The prince and his stiff parents are filthy bloodsuckers.
I opened my mouth to respond then snapped it shut. Because really, what could I say to that?
Chapter 4
A Hint Of Trouble
After some time passed, the train screeched to a halt. I peered out the window to see another gray train station. On the platform were two well-dressed girls and their guards. The girls fidgeted, waiting for the doors to open. They got into another compartment, and the train sped off again.
Over the next few hours, we made several more stops. The passing landscape told me we were heading south. The light dusting of snow disappeared, replaced with greener and greener grass.
I knew the girls in the western settlements were being collected a different way. The trains didn’t run out there. I wondered what the other contestants were like and if any of them were as wild and outspoken as Eve.
I also wondered just how thoroughly the royal family had checked our backgrounds.
Eve ignored me, humming to herself and watching the landscape fly by. There wasn’t much we could say in front of the guards, anyway.
Another hour passed, and there was a knock on the interior door of our train car. “Food service.”
The guards opened the door, and an older woman, also wearing a gray uniform, came through. Another human servant. She wheeled a cart laden with sandwiches and fruit. Eve’s eyeballs almost popped out of her head as she examined the feast. My stomach roared as the woman bowed to us and smiled kindly. “Tea?”
“Yes, please.”
Eve nodded, her eyes never leaving the food. I heard her stomach rumble and looked at her with sympathy.
“Don’t.” Her voice was quiet. “Pity’s the last thing I need. A sandwich is the first.”
I tried to consume my food in a ladylike fashion, but it was so good, better than I’d had in years. Soon enough, I was gobbling my second sandwich of roast turkey and brie. Eve grabbed a third and groaned when she could only finish half. “I can’t fit anymore, which really pisses me off, to be honest.”
I giggled. I had no trouble finishing mine.
My stomach full for the first time in forever, I must’ve fallen asleep, because I was startled awake by the train screeching again. Eve clapped my shoulder. “We’re here. Time to face the, er…music.” She winked at me and made fake fangs with her fingers.
I would’ve laughed at her boldness, but I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. Time to face the music, indeed.
Eve was the first one who’d ever said it out loud in front of me. Filthy bloodsuckers. As if it were a fact, universally acknowledged. As if everyone would know what she meant when she made finger fangs.
Eve thought the royals were vampires. Was it true? My mother had never admitted it, but I knew that was why my father and brother had gone off to fight—to protect us from them, from their kind.
I’d known they were different, but I didn’t know they were that different. Not for sure.
My mind raced. The king’s and queen’s appearances were always made under cover of darkness. The Black Guard only struck against us at night.
I fell in line behind Eve, my own guard close at my heels. I wished I could ask him what he knew, but I remembered what he’d said—no talking to men. So close to the palace, I didn’t dare risk getting caught.
Fear flared through me as we exited the train. I smoothed my heavy travel dress and arranged my long, intricate braids. My mother had insisted I look my best while staying warm. Eve watched me and rolled her eyes. Now that she was standing, I noticed her casual pants tucked into combat boots and her coat, thin and cheaply made. It was only twenty degrees. She must have been freezing, but she didn’t complain. She just scowled as I applied more lip gloss, as if I were ridiculous.
This southern train station was different, more stately and ornate. Black family royal crests adorned the walls. The crests were intricately carved and spectacularly colored with hues of purple, red, and the deepest blue. “This way, ladies.” Eve’s guard motioned for us to follow. “No talking.”
I peered curiously at the other girls getting off the train. There were redheads and blondes, and girls with long dark hair artfully arranged like mine. There was straight hair, wavy hair, and curls. The girls were all manner of skin color and height. Some wore bea
utifully made clothes, and others wore hand-me-downs. There were skinny girls and curvy girls, and every size in between. Did the prince have a type?
I peered at their faces. Of the thirty girls I counted, the only thing they had in common was their beauty.
Eve eyed the competition too. “I guess the prince doesn’t care for the homely ones. His harem, his rules, I guess.”
Her guard’s face reddened. “That’s enough,” he hissed.
She jauntily tossed her curls. “Easy, Rusty. Don’t act so emotional and human. You might find yourself on the royal family’s menu.”
He looked as if he bit back a curse, but to his credit, he kept his mouth shut.
We filed out of the station, up a set of concrete stairs, and out to an open-air piazza. I inhaled the cold, fresh air gratefully, relishing the sun on my face after the long day of traveling. A tall guard, elegant and austere in a black coat with gold lapels, strode to the front of the group.
He cleared his throat. “Good afternoon, ladies. I’m General Isaacs.” His white goatee gleamed in the late-afternoon sun. “Transportation will be here shortly to take us to our final destination. Please, no talking, and absolutely no photography. We’ll have a meeting once we’re safely inside. Stay with your settlement guards.”
“Is he kidding about the photography?” Eve asked under her breath. “Does he think any of us still have cell phones?”
Once a taken-for-granted staple for every teenaged girl, the cell phone had gone the way of the dinosaur. Or rather, the government had collected them all and had them incinerated.
I shrugged in response. The general had said no talking, and although I didn’t want to put Eve off, I wanted to follow instructions. He was close enough to hear us.
She sneered at me. “Oh, I see how it is. Upper East Side goody-two-shoes and all.”
“Shut up,” I whispered, and General Isaacs stiffened.
“When I said no talking, I meant it.” He didn’t have to raise his voice for icicles to jab at my spine. “We’ll discuss how the rules are enforced at the meeting, but you should know that I am not kidding, and you will obey me.”