by Dylan Steel
Sage turned her attention back to Alira. “You’re turning into a real contender.”
“Thanks.” The girl beamed.
“Remember earlier, when he connected right here?” Sage stepped forward, pointing at her hip.
“Yeah.” Alira’s hand went straight there. She grimaced. “That hurt.”
“I’m sure.” Sage nodded. “Want to stop him next time?”
“Yeah.” She bounced up and down a little.
“Ok.” Sage grinned. “Then you need to practice this. Step to the side, circling your arm at the same time—like this.” She demonstrated the move twice—first slowly, then faster. “And make sure you keep your other fist up, still ready to block. You never know how fast the next move is coming—or if you misread your opponent’s intentions.”
“Ok…” Alira’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she watched Sage carefully. “So, like this?”
Stepping back, Sage watched as Alira demonstrated the move she’d just shown her. It wasn’t perfect, but it was impressive for a Level Eight’s first try.
“Good,” Sage said, grabbing her arm and lifting it higher, “but make sure you don’t drop your elbow when you’re stretching over—good. Better. And make sure your other arm follows through all the way. It’s a block and a strike.” She nodded and stepped back again, letting Alira run through the form a few times on her own.
Instructors were supposed to be impartial. Fortunately, Sage was only a student Bokja instructor, and impartiality wasn’t exactly written down and codified as an absolute requirement.
She wasn’t sure why she cared so much. Maybe because Kai and Rosalind had helped her so much when she was the same age. Sage stiffened. As much as she’d liked them at the time, she no longer wanted to be like either of them. She couldn’t bear the thought of becoming a victim at the mercy of some demented benefactor like Rosalind, and she hated the idea of selling her soul to Eprah for its protection.
Craig trotted back up beside them, dragging his sleeve across his mouth. “Should we keep going?”
“Go right ahead.” Sage stepped back again, giving them space to bow and begin. She watched in amusement as the chaotic limb-swinging resumed.
They definitely needed more time to practice honing their skills, but at least they weren’t afraid of actually connecting with the other person’s torso or jaw. That was something.
Ms. Bax appeared beside Sage and set her hand on her shoulder to keep from startling her. “Class is almost over. Would you go grab the cleaning supplies?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sage turned to leave.
Ms. Bax smiled and continued walking down the row, pausing just in front of Carnabel. “Would you give her a hand? Today’s a deep cleaning day, so it’ll probably be a bit much for one person to carry.”
“Sure.” Carnabel plastered a smile on her face and followed Sage off the mats and into the back room.
Sage gritted her teeth but didn’t say anything. With any luck, Carnabel wouldn’t pick a fight, and they’d just grab the supplies from the closet and head back. No complications.
Wishful thinking.
The door slammed closed behind her, and Sage whirled around, coming face to face with a sneering Carnabel.
“Something wrong with the door?”
“Nope. The lock works just fine,” Carnabel said slyly.
“Good to know,” Sage said, keeping her expression neutral. “But I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be stuck in here with you and cleaning solutions that can eat through mats, so if we could just—”
“I thought you should know that I’m watching you.”
“Great. Glad to hear your eyes work,” Sage retorted. “I’m watching you too, but I’d rather be carrying this stuff back to—”
“You think you’re funny? Is that it?” Carnabel growled. “Is that why you think everyone should like you so much?”
Sage snorted. “I think it’s funny that you think everyone likes me.”
“Who wouldn’t like the Bokja champion?” Anger flashed behind Carnabel’s eyes. “Everyone basically loves you now—just because you made one stupid, lucky move. I had you.”
“Yeah. Almost.” Sage shrugged. “But it’s the end that counts.”
Carnabel pounded her fist against the wall. Bottles wobbled and teetered along the shelf, and a mop tipped over, clattering to the ground. “So, what then? Just because you got lucky during the tournament, you think I’m going to roll over? Become your groupie?”
“That’d be nice,” Sage muttered, trying not to let Carnabel rattle her.
“Fat chance.”
“Big surprise.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry—I wasn’t really expecting it.”
“Don’t think for one second that I’ve forgotten about the tournament. Or about you and Nic—everything you’ve taken from me. One way or another, you’re going to pay for it.”
Sage bristled, something snapping inside her. “You know what, Carnabel? You really should forget about it. It’s not like any of us have any say in our pairs, but even if we did, I wouldn’t change a thing. Nic and I are together, and you need to get over it.” She lowered her voice and leaned closer. “It’s the brotherly thing to do, after all. You should be happy for us.”
“The point of the Kunbriat is to make sure we’re serving Eprah the best we can,” Carnabel said, her voice suddenly dripping with manufactured sweetness. “I want to be sure I’m serving Eprah the best I can. And that’ll only happen if Nic’s by my side.”
“He doesn’t even like you!” Sage couldn’t contain her anger anymore. So much for defusing the situation.
Carnabel’s eye twitched. “Maybe not now, but he will.”
“You’re delusional.”
“That’d be convenient for you, wouldn’t it?” Carnabel snorted. “Well, I’m not, but I am watching you. And I know you’re going to mess up. It’s like you can’t help it.” She looked her up and down derisively. “Probably because of your filthy Lawless parents.”
Sage’s hands clenched into fists, her nails sharply digging into her palms. “Move,” she hissed through her teeth, “or I’ll make you move.”
“Want to get into another fight with me? I’d love the chance to take your crown, but…” Carnabel’s head shook side to side slowly. “No. When I bring you down, you’re going down all on your own. I’ll be totally clean.” The corner of her lip twitched up into a demented sort of half smile. “And after I’m through with you, Nic won’t want anything to do with you anymore—not that you’ll have the option anyways. He’s going to be my pair.”
“I won’t tell you to move again.”
“No need.” Carnabel flipped her hair over her shoulder and grabbed a couple buckets, tossing some bottles into them. “I was just leaving.”
Carnabel turned and walked through the door, making sure to smile at Ms. Bax and act like nothing had happened. Sage’s body was shaking with anger as she uncurled her fists and collected the supplies. She was sick of dealing with Carnabel and her stupid bluster.
Sage knew she shouldn’t let her threats get under her skin, but she couldn’t help it. She was already terrified she’d lose Nic—especially now that she was actually starting to have some real feelings for him.
She let out a slow breath, reasoning with herself. They were practically a perfect pairing. And despite Carnabel’s efforts, Eprah wouldn’t separate them. Eprah didn’t care about stupid grudges, and that’s all this was. Nothing Carnabel could do would change how well Nic and Sage were matched.
Mildly reassured, Sage grabbed the bucket and marched out the door. No matter what Carnabel tried, at least Sage wasn’t going to have to deal with her issues for much longer.
The end of the year couldn’t come soon enough.
13. DISCONNECTED
“So you mentioned that when you were younger, you’d almost asked for a transfer, but after your boss was collected by Beautification, you decided it was worth continuing in your position in hopes o
f a promotion instead…” Sage stole a glance at her datasheet, “which you obviously got. Sounds like you knew you were next in line for his job. How’d you know that?”
She looked up, her forehead wrinkling as she balanced the datasheet on her knee and leaned forward.
“Mr. Gunthers?”
Nothing.
“Uh, Mr. Gunthers?” Sage reached her hand halfway to the man sitting across from her, then stopped. Had she seriously considered poking him? Cringing, she pulled her hand back and balled it into a fist, setting it in her lap.
Mr. Gunthers didn’t answer her question, but his chest rose and fell slightly. The corner of his mouth glistened with drool, and his nose whistled gently with each inhale. Gross.
Sage sighed and slouched back in her chair. This wasn’t going to go anywhere. Mr. Gunthers hadn’t exactly been chatty before, and apparently, she’d interrupted his mid-afternoon nap.
“Uh-huh, I see. Interesting,” she mumbled to herself as she made up some answers and jotted them down on the datasheet. “Mr. Gunthers! That doesn’t sound at all like something you’d do,” she continued sarcastically, filling in the remaining blanks beside the questions she was supposed to ask.
“Well, thanks so much for having me.” Sage fought back a grin as she finished filling in the last answer. “This was really quite enlightening. You’ve lived quite an entertaining life—I never would have guessed.”
Sage hesitated, looking around the small room. If the drab decor was any indication, Mr. Gunthers had not lived an entertaining life. Her report would’ve looked very different if he’d managed to stay awake, but she wasn’t worried about getting in trouble over fabricated answers. If her instructor had any concerns, she could easily claim senility as an explanation for the absurd answers. Instructors rarely even looked over these assignments anyway—they just wanted to check the box and make sure their students had at least made the effort of talking to citizens at the Center.
Tilting her head, Sage studied Mr. Gunthers’ face and slumped body once more. She stood up abruptly, throwing the chair off balance, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud thud.
Sage winced. That had been louder than she’d expected. She reluctantly peeked at Mr. Gunthers to see if he’d woken up grumpy.
Nothing. His chest was still rising and falling gently with no sign of change.
A grin spread over her face. No way was he waking up anytime soon. Perfect.
Righting the chair, she shoved her datasheet in her pocket and headed for the door. There wasn’t much point staying in this stuffy room anymore. She’d completed her assignment—sort of—and was now free to converse with other Center residents. Besides, that room smelled of overripe oranges and sulfur, and she didn’t want to spend another minute breathing in the foul combination.
Her legs carried her through the maze of hallways instinctively, but instead of depositing her at the central lounge, she realized she’d stopped at the end of the same hallway she’d visited the year before.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that this was what she’d wanted to do all day. She still had so many questions, and the old man was her last link to answers.
But it was pointless. When she’d visited him last year, he hadn’t been in his right mind. But he’d recognized her—or some part of her mother in her, at least—and he’d seemed to know her. She was convinced he knew more about her past than she did.
The possibility remained: He had information still locked away safely somewhere in the recesses of his brain. Granted, it was a remote possibility, but she knew she would be plagued by regret if she didn’t try to find out everything she could. What was his connection to her parents? Why had he insisted she take the pendant? She’d managed to keep the necklace hidden for the past year—not even Penelope knew about it—but she didn’t even know why she’d taken such great pains to keep it a secret.
Sage’s face flushed with anticipation as she continued forward, her heart pounding. This was ridiculous. She paused and put a hand to the base of her throat, rubbing her fingers over the stone still hidden beneath her shirt. The reassurance of its presence instantly calmed her. Her breathing slowed, returning to normal.
After last year, she knew visiting the old man was probably a waste of time, but still, she couldn’t suppress the urge to check again. Maybe he’d just been having a bad day the last time she was there. That happened sometimes with older people, right? Some days they had more clarity than others? The instructors had warned them of that before, admitting that their interviews might not go smoothly if their assigned citizen was too tired or distracted or—
The sound of breaking glass startled her, jerking her attention to the other end of the hallway.
A loud commotion was coming from the direction of the old man’s room. Despite her better judgment, her feet continued moving forward on their own.
Another crash—and now she could hear people arguing in the room. Sage held her breath and crept closer. She could make out two men’s voices. The first voice was familiar, though she couldn’t quite place it.
“Who else has been through here? Gone through his things?”
“No one, sir. We’ve been busy with recent intakes and haven’t had a chance to—”
“Someone else has been here!” the first man roared. “It’s not here!”
A small gasp escaped Sage’s lips as she realized she knew who was in the room. Kai. But why was he interested in the old man?
The sudden silence was deafening. This wasn’t good.
“Who’s there?” Kai’s voice echoed into the hallway.
Sage’s eyes widened at the sound of footsteps padding toward her. She turned and started hurrying back the way she’d come as quickly and quietly as she could, hoping she could make it around the corner before she was spotted. Maybe he’d think he was just hearing things and—
“Stop.”
She froze.
“Come here.”
Indecision warred within her as she debated whether or not to run. The corner was just a few feet away. There was still a chance she could duck inside another room before he caught up to her. He hadn’t seen her face. She could still—
“I have Eprah’s full authority, and I’m telling you that you need to come back here right now.” Kai’s voice boomed down the hall. It left no room for debate or disobedience.
They’d be able to look at the feeds, Sage reminded herself. If Kai wanted to know who’d been spying on him, he’d be able to find out within minutes.
Blowing out a breath, she steeled herself and turned to face him. A flicker of surprise flashed across his face when he realized who she was, but it was quickly replaced with stony indifference—though she could’ve sworn there was a bit of irritation simmering just underneath the surface.
“Sage. Come here.”
Balling her hands into fists to hide her trembling, she shoved them into her pockets and forced herself to move forward. She stopped just outside the door.
“What?” she asked, injecting as much innocence into the question as she could.
“Why are you here?” Kai demanded.
“There’s a bunch of us Sixteens here today. Career interviews, you know?”
“Obviously. But why are you here?” He gestured toward the hallway.
“I finished my assigned interview.”
“And?” Kai raised an eyebrow.
Sage swallowed. He obviously wasn’t going to be satisfied with rehearsed answers. “I was looking for a second interviewee.” That was only a half-lie. “I was just walking by and heard—” She hesitated. “I mean, I didn’t really hear anything, just a lot of noise.”
“Noise, huh?” Kai’s eyes narrowed. “Then why were you leaving?”
“I dunno. I guess I figured it was none of my business.” She shrugged, shifting her weight. Kai pressed his lips together. He was studying her, and she didn’t like it. If only she’d kept a lid on her emotions or even walked a little faster, she wouldn�
��t be in this mess now—not that she even knew what the mess was.
Kai wrapped his hand around her upper arm, roughly yanking her inside the room and then letting her go. She came face to face with a squirrelly orderly who seemed immensely uncomfortable with the entire situation. He wasn’t the only one.
“Did you know the man who lived here?” Kai asked, ignoring the orderly entirely.
Had the old man been Lawless? Sage didn’t know for sure, but if he’d known her parents, it was possible. It would probably be best to keep her history with him a secret.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Who lived here?”
The corner of Kai’s eye twitched as he looked at her, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he raised his voice and spoke to the orderly.
“No one goes in or out of this room without my approval. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” the orderly said. He licked his lips as his eyes darted back and forth between them.
“I want you to assemble all the staff members who’ve had access to this room in the past month. No one leaves until I’ve personally interviewed them.”
“Y-yes, sir.”
“Now, leave us alone,” Kai said, not taking his eyes off Sage.
“But I’m not supposed to—”
“You’re supposed to assist me in whatever way I require. This is what I require,” Kai growled, still staring at Sage. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Yes, sir.” The orderly practically tripped over himself as he rushed out of the room.
Kai paced the room for a few moments before saying anything. Sage chewed the inside of her lip, trying to convince herself to calm down. She had no idea what was going on or why Kai felt the need to involve her in it.
“Have you been in this room before?”
Sage looked up in surprise. Of all the questions she would’ve thought he’d ask, that one hadn’t made the list.
“No,” she lied. He didn’t need to know she’d been standing here just one year earlier, looking for answers about her dead Lawless parents.
“What’d he say to you?” Kai asked, ignoring her denial.