Harvest: Faction 1: (The Isa Fae Collection)

by Conner Kressley

  My eyes flickered over to Karr. His face was so strong, so solid and stalwart. Some might look at him and say he was hard, that he was unfeeling, that being that way wasn’t worth being able to live without fear.

  Those people didn’t know him, though. To call him heartless was to spit in the face of all he truly was. All they’d have had to do was be there when he’d pushed bullies away from Arbor and me, when he comforted Arbor during the evenings when she lamented her parents’ deaths, or when he said something kind for no reason at all.

  He was far from heartless, and that made his strength even more impressive. I would have given anything to be like him.

  His eyes moved over, latching onto mine. A thin smile spread across his face, and I could feel mine bending to match it.

  A warmth filled me, and I knew everything would be okay so long as I had him at my side. I didn’t need to worry about any stupid Box or the list of names the woman at the center of the podium had now begun to read off. Those names wouldn’t have anything to do with us. Life was too good for that. It had given me a sister in Arbor. It had given me a friend, and maybe something more, in Karr. After today, it would give me the freedom to do what I wanted from here on out.

  For the first time in a very long while, I let out an honest-to-goodness sigh of relief. The names were still being called off, but, just as I’d trusted, none of them were ours. I had never even heard most of them, and those I had were people I had only ever met in passing.

  One by one, they trickled past as I stared into Karr’s eyes, my hand still firmly pressed against Arbor’s. His gaze was firm, his expression strong and unyielding. When Karr looked at me, I felt stronger.

  I’d been silly. Of course, I could take Karr’s hand as I used to when we were children. No matter what happened, we would always be friends. Even if he didn’t feel about me the way I felt about him, we would stay close. He would be in my life.

  What did I think was going to happen? That I’d slip my palm against his and everything would suddenly fall apart between us? It was a ridiculous, childish thought, and I was better than that. So I reached out and smiled even more broadly as he took my hand into his own.

  Sparks flew up my arm and settled around my overflowing heart. Though I knew the attraction was one sided, I still said a silent thank-you to whatever maker was responsible for giving me the ability to feel this way and for putting a person like Karr so close to me.

  The names rattled on, the list shrinking smaller and smaller, until there was only room for one more name to be read. I sighed again, shaking my head as I prepared for this to be over. I was right. I wasn’t going to lose everything. I wasn’t going to be tossed into a Box, and lose the people I cared about most.

  I could see our lives stretching out in front of us. Maybe Karr and I wouldn’t be together in the way I secretly hoped in the deepest regions of my heart, but we would be together in our own way. And that was all that mattered.

  I squeezed both of my friends’ hands and closed my eyes, waiting for the reading to finally be over.

  But then the last name was read, and, like a spear, it drove directly into my heart.

  My eyes flipped open, tears immediately springing forth from them.

  I couldn’t have heard that right. This couldn’t be happening.

  Had they just read off Karr’s name?

  Chapter 3

  As I neared the Sphere, branches cracked underfoot.

  I wasn’t supposed to be here. It was late, after curfew, and I wasn’t an Aux yet. That wouldn’t come for a few more days, not until Arbor and I were unceremoniously escorted out of House One alongside the others who were neither chosen for the Harvest nor given other specific jobs within the faction.

  The picture in my head of that day included Karr. He was supposed to be there. He was supposed to be with us as we moved out and took on the world as the trio we’d always been. We had no idea what life was going to hold for us. That was the entire point of being an Aux. The future was finally in our hands, up to our decisions and ideals.

  I had been so hesitant about that idea at first. The notion of building a life for myself—of having the entire faction opened to me—was as daunting as anything I’d ever imagined. It was Karr who had talked me down from that metaphorical ledge. Just as in every other huge moment in my life, he had been there to guide me and help me realize that things weren’t as big or bad as I imagined them to be. He was responsible for me looking forward to the future, for me knowing what it was like to be hopeful.

  It seemed wrong that he wouldn’t be able to share in that future now. The unfairness of it stung, and I wasn’t going to let it stand, not if I could help it.

  Of course, that meant breaking more than a few ordinances and risking my own personal freedom just days before my real life was set to begin. But what did that matter? When stacked against Karr, against everything he had done for me and all I knew he would have continued to do if given the opportunity, it seemed like an easy choice.

  I would do this for him. My plan was to sneak into the Sphere, where he was being kept until he was to be shipped off into the Box tomorrow, and I’d convince him to run away.

  Who was to say he should go through with this, anyway? There were people who bought into the elders’ nonsense, who believed this to be the duty of those called. But what sort of sense did that make? What had the faction ever done for Karr… or for any of us for that matter?

  To the faction, we were nothing but orphans, useless cogs in a machine that didn’t need us, in a world that would get along better without us. That was why we were being thrown out of House One. It was why we were being led out into the cold world without as much as a hand to hold us upright.

  While it was true I had come to see being an Aux as freedom, I had no delusions of grandeur. It was—as it was always meant to be—a way of disposing of those weak enough not to take care of themselves. Those who couldn’t provide their own food or housing would have none. Those who couldn’t work would starve or freeze to death, whichever came first.

  So why should someone as precious and good as Karr be expected to lay his life down for a belief system that would see him dead before extending any sort of help to him?

  It wasn’t right, and as far as I was concerned, it wasn’t going to stand.

  That, of course, meant I was going to have to get to him first. Given the nature of the security system surrounding and within the Sphere, it wasn’t going to be an easy task.

  The Sphere’s security wasn’t something to be taken lightly. The fact that all those doomed to be tossed into the Box were denied visitation with their families only served to accentuate that fact. The faction was rife with stories of crestfallen mothers and fathers being hauled into custody after trying to sneak into the Sphere to say goodbye to their sons and daughters. So what—given the fact that these older witches were likely more experienced than myself—made me think I was going to end up any differently?

  In clear and simple terms, I just didn’t care.

  Karr didn’t have a family to sneak in for him. The closest he had—the closest thing he would ever have in terms of that—was Arbor and me. And didn’t he deserve what the rest of the faction got? Didn’t he deserve to know that someone was in enough anguish over the idea of losing him that they were willing to put themselves at risk?

  The answer seemed clear to me. He deserved all that and so much more. Karr deserved the life the three of us had planned during our time in House One. He deserved the wife and family he’d alluded to wanting in our most recent days, when he had finally allowed himself to think about an existence outside of the strict lines and confining walls we’d grown up within.

  It was up to me to give that to him. I was going to make it work because, unlike those mothers and fathers whose goal, it seemed, was to curse at the skies above, I was going to undo it. Getting Karr out of this mess was all that mattered. I was going to convince him to get out, to run. It was crazy, sure. But it was the
only way. Any other path was one I would have to take without him, and I wasn’t prepared to do that. I couldn’t stand the idea of living in a world that didn’t have his sweet smile and kind heart in it.

  Luckily, I was prepared. All the stories about the attacks on the Sphere tended to go the same way. Someone came out, hands blazing with power, and they were taken out almost immediately by the seemingly inexhaustible, faction-sponsored Atrium supply.

  It made sense. Going at the Sphere with the half-filled bar I had on my band was like trying to fight a wood fire with a half-full cup of liquid. It wasn’t something I could reasonably do, and it wasn’t something I was going to try.

  Instead, it occurred to me there was another way to go. Spells could be cast one of three ways. They could be cast onto another person—battle magic, it was called. Or they could be cast on the world—elemental magic, which twisted and turned what was. It was this sort of magic that made everything so sticky in the first place. And then, there was the sort of magic that most of us never learned about—magic inflicted on one’s self.

  When learning how to responsibly cast spells, the students were always pushed away from interior casting, as it was called. We were told casting a spell that affected us personally was the sort of dangerous alchemy that resulted in things like wood demons, half serpents, and all other sorts of horrific twists that only existed in slumber stories to scare children.

  We never learned those sorts of spells. In fact, possession of reading material that alluded to this kind of magic was an offense punishable by torture and imprisonment. Only the most foolish of witches would dare even broach the subject.

  But Arbor and I were about as foolish as they came, and I had a feeling that was about to pay off.

  I took a deep breath and summoned the half bar of magic from my band. I really hoped this worked, because I’d used most of my bars practicing, until all I had left was next to nothing. I’d gotten it right on my last try, and now I had to hope to get it right this time. It was all I had. Trying the spell again would use almost every drop of magic I had left.

  And once that magic was gone completely, I’d be dead. Literally.

  I twisted the energy, squeezing my eyes tightly and focusing the magic inward. It felt strange at first, wrong somehow. My teachers had drilled into me the idea of this being forbidden so many times that now I was doing it, it took all I could do not to stop short.

  I couldn’t, though. This was the only way I was going to have even a chance of getting to Karr, much less saving him. I muttered words I had read over candlelight under my covers, words meant to transform me, to make me different, to make me invisible.

  A surge of power rushed through me, and I looked down at my band. The meter was red, almost completely drained. I felt weak, the sort of sluggishness that always came when I ran myself too hard.

  I had to brush it off, though. If this spell worked, I would have to move quickly. The meter on my band said everything. The power used to make me invisible was all I had. There would be no energy left to sustain the spell. So I would have to get in, grab Karr, and get back out before the magic lost its potency.

  My guess was I had about ten minutes to do everything I needed to, which was why I had waited until I was this close to the Sphere to enact the spell in the first place.

  Looking down at where my body used to be, I could see only the snow-covered ground underfoot. A surge of contentment rushed through me, tempered by alarm and the ticking clock that started the instant the spell went into effect.

  I felt somehow validated. The fact I could perform a spell like this meant I was useful—that I was a talented witch who knew how to do things I hadn’t been rightfully taught to do.

  But it also meant the race was on.

  No longer was this a hypothetical. I had done the deed. So now I had to enact the rescue. There would be no excuses, and I didn’t have any time to waste.

  I moved forward with the confidence only someone who couldn’t be seen would have. The Sphere was right in front of me—a translucent glowing orb, shining blue, red, and sometimes even purple. Some of the official faction business was done here. The Council met more than once in this hallowed place, but the most celebrated purpose it served was that of holding the ‘soldiers’ meant to do battle inside the Box.

  We all knew the truth. They were sacrifices, their lives wasted in an attempt to satisfy public morale and ensure the people of our faction knew who was really in charge. It was said that once inside the Sphere, the ‘soldiers’ were given their hearts’ desires. For the twelve or so hours it took to process their departure, they ate and drank like rulers. They were given the finest of clothes to wear and the best entertainment the faction had to offer.

  Small consolation for their families, it seemed. But it was something.

  My studies of the Sphere told me the entrance at the side farthest from the wall was the only point of entry. There had been talk of secret tunnels or hidden passageways, but I couldn’t verify any of that. Besides, most of the stories contradicted each other. No, I was going to have to get in right through the front door. It also meant I was going to have to sneak Karr out the same way. Hopefully he had enough energy stored to do the trick.

  Luckily, the spell I’d done on myself shielded me not only from the sight of people, but also from technological and mystical sight as well. For the next few minutes, I’d be able to walk around freely. No one would be able to see, hear, or feel me, unless I specifically wanted them to. It was very useful, but also very taxing and complicated. For that reason, I needed to keep up my brisk pace.

  Moving out of the wooded area, I looked at the guards surrounding the doors. The sun hung high in the sky, but the streets were barren and empty, telling me the hour was later than I’d thought. People would be up soon. If I didn’t act fast, Karr would be thrown into that horror show in a matter of hours.

  Deciding I had no other choice but to run right through them, I darted off toward the guards. The two men, who were each undoubtedly brandishing full bars on their bands, seemed deep in conversation.

  As I ran, snow crackling underfoot, I knew that my spell would ensure they never heard or saw any footprints. I started to get excited. I’d see Karr in just minutes. With any luck, we’d be out soon after that. We’d be free and on the run. I wasn’t sure where we’d go once we stopped and grabbed Arbor, but we’d be together, and that was all that mattered.

  Unfortunately, it seemed I’d been too quick to celebrate. The taller of the guards chuckled loudly, laughing at whatever the shorter one said. The shorter man, though, snapped his neck toward me, his dark eyebrows knitting together close to his eyes.

  Did he sense me somehow? I’d been over that spell ten times since Karr had been chosen earlier today. It was supposed to work. It was intended to make my body imperceptible.

  It was then I saw the black mark under his eye and knew what was going on.

  “Empath,” I hissed.

  The mark of the empath was small enough to go unseen by those not looking for it, but it was a symbol that meant so much more. It stood for the single powerset I hadn’t prepared for. This spell made my body invisible, sure. But the empath could sense my mind, and that was wide open.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” I said through gritted teeth.

  I had checked the logs. No empaths were supposed to be on duty for the next two days. There must have been a change of plans. This change would condemn Karr and send me to a cell of my own unless I figured out a way around this.

  The empath gave his friend a quick pat on the arm and started toward me, his eyes not seeing what his mind knew was there.

  I needed to be creative. The books I’d read—which I had been expressly forbidden to own—told me empaths had a distinct advantage over a lot of witches. Being able to ‘see’ a world others could not had its benefits. Still, this world took precedence. The things empaths could see, feel, and hear often muddied their abilities.

  As th
e man bridged the gap between us, red energy glowing from his hand that was meant to bring me down, I did the only thing I could think to do.

  Pulling a rock from the ground, I tossed it into the brush at my far left. It made a loud noise, and he twisted to look that way. He didn’t move, his body just inches from my own. Backing away slowly, I threw another rock, then another.

  Still, he didn’t move.

  “Are you going to check that out or not?” the taller man asked, taking note of the sound. This was enough to move the empath’s hand. He nodded, pulled his attention from where I was standing, and rushed toward the brush.

  I took off immediately, sprinting past the taller man and into the Sphere. I still needed to see Karr, and thanks to that empath, my time was almost up.

  Chapter 4

  Running in the Sphere with my heart firmly in my throat was a sensation I never thought I would experience. My mind had often wandered to the poor souls whose family members had gone through the Harvest and come out on the losing end, but I never really thought it would happen to someone I cared about.

  I knew better now, though, not only about how it felt to have it happen to someone I cared for, but also how it felt when it happened to the most important person in my life.

  Arbor was my best friend, this was true. Karr, however, was something more. He was the face of a future I wouldn’t get to live now if I couldn’t put a stop to this madness. Karr was the steady hand to my wild and impulsive heart. He was the brand that gave shape and purpose to my fire.

  I couldn’t live this life without him. I didn’t want to.

  The first thing I noticed as I moved through the Sphere was how horribly inaccurate the stories were. One look at the sterile metal walls and the plain tile floors told me this wasn’t some den of luxuries. There would be no grand meals here, no wonderful entertainment. The people about to be tossed into the Box and memorialized for sacrifices they had no business making weren’t going to get an amazing sendoff. They were just going to be shoveled off like the ash heap of a fire.