by D. S. Murphy
“Have I done something wrong?” I asked.
“Not here,” Master Svboda whispered sharply in my ear. “We’ll talk about it after class.”
Tobias dropped his hands and the girls blinked as if they were awakening from a dream.
“As you can see,” Master Svboda continued, addressing the class again, “glamours can be enchanting, even pleasurable. But they can also be terrifying, and dangerous.”
“But they can’t really hurt us, can they?” Mary asked.
“Physically, no,” Master Svboda said. “Though imagine being trapped in a nightmare, watching everyone you care about put to death by your own hand. And don’t forget, some elite are strong enough to compulse you against your will. It’s illegal, except for dire circumstances of security, to compulse a human—but it’s difficult to prove. As I mentioned, however, the chosen are weak spots, and some elite may risk breaking the law for political advantage. You’ll be targets. It’s doubtful anyone would risk harming you directly, but be wary of any elite who seems to turn on the charm. Let’s try something simple. Capture the flag?”
Tobias nodded. I knew this game, we played it in the compound when I was younger. It was one of my favorites. I expected Master Svboda to split us into two teams, but instead it was all of the chosen against Tobias. He was elite, which meant he was faster and stronger than any of us, but I still thought we had a chance. After all, he couldn’t defend his flag and steal ours at the same time.
When the whistle blew, half of the chosen raced towards Tobias’s flag, and the other half tried grabbing Tobias to capture him. He dodge them easily, jumping over them or running straight across the walls. Keeping an eye on him made me dizzy, so I concentrated on the other side of the room, where a ring of girls were standing protectively around the Tobias’s flag. Instead of seizing it, they kneeled around it with their hands behind their backs. The rest of the girls, who had been playing defense, formed a triangle around Camina, who grabbed our flag and brought it straight Tobias. He was controlling them like puppets. That much power… it made me sick just thinking about it.
“This was just a game,” Master Svboda said, “But what if it had been a battle? One powerful elite could control dozens of soldiers. Any ally could become a threat. You can’t trust anyone, because you never know who could turn against you, or worse, when you yourself might turn against the ones you love, and destroy all that you care about.”
I shivered, rubbing my palms against my bare arms. There was a softness in Master Svboda’s eyes, and I remembered what Camina told me earlier, about her elite dying to protect her. I wondered if I’d ever hear the rest of that story.
After class, Master Svboda and Tobias asked me to stay behind. They exchanged heated whispers, until I got tired of them ignoring me.
“Just tell me,” I said. “There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?”
“It’s nothing,” Master Svboda said, squeezing my shoulder. “Just something a little unusual, we didn’t expect. For now, it’s very important you don’t tell anyone what happened in class today. Understand?”
I nodded, wondering what had happened in class today.
“Tobias will escort you home.”
I frowned. It felt like I was being punished for something, but I didn’t even know what I’d done wrong. We were nearly home when curiousity got the better of me.
“I don’t understand,” I said quietly. “We were supposed to resist the compulsion, weren’t we? That’s what the exercise was for.”
“Yes,” Tobias said. “You did well. Maybe too well. Humans shouldn’t be able to resist compulsion like you did today, even with the extra elixir. It makes you special. But it could also be dangerous if anybody found out.”
I rolled my eyes. How could I be dangerous? We found a deck of cards and played until Damien returned. His dark leather pants were dirty, and his shirt torn and stained with blood.
“What happened?” I asked, dropping my cards on the table.
“Nothing,” he said, but then he saw Tobias.
“Why don’t you go into the library,” Damien said, nodding towards the door. I frowned, but left the room. In the library I pulled the door almost all the way closed, then leaned my ear against it. I couldn’t hear everything, but caught a few words from down the hall. One word in particular was repeated several times. Renitent. Damien said something about keeping it a secret. I heard footsteps, so I grabbed a book and pretended to be reading just as Damien came in.
I thought he’d ask me about my day, or tell me what he and Tobias had been talking about. Instead he just grabbed another book and sat on the sofa by the window with his back towards me. There was so much I wanted to tell him but I didn’t know where to begin. He looked tired, after hunting all day. He probably needed to feed. I couldn’t help thinking of Jessica’s remark in class. Was there something wrong with me? Was that why he didn’t want me? The silence had grown unbearable, when he finally spoke.
“Did you have a good time last night?” he asked.
“What are you talking about?” I snapped back.
“I saw you, on the other side of town. I thought you didn’t know anyone here?”
“I don’t. I just wanted to explore.”
“So you went straight for Madame Brezing’s blood lounge? You shouldn’t be in that area.”
“How do you know Madame Brezing,” I glared.
“Don’t change the subject,” he said, closing the book.
“If you knew where I was, why didn’t you come get me?” I asked. “I had to walk home by myself.”
“I wanted to give you space. Besides, it’s perfectly safe in the citadel.”
“Safe like it was for the murdered girls?”
“That was a slagpaw attack,” Damien said. “And it happened outside the gates. They could never get into the city.”
“You’re wrong,” I said quickly. “It wasn’t a slagpaw attack. And they were killed inside the walls, by an elite.”
“Elite don’t kill humans,” Damien said with conviction.
Was he covering it up? Protecting his own class? I studied his face, wondering if he was hiding something. But he seemed to honestly believe what he was saying. Which meant, whatever was going on, he wasn’t part of it. A wave of relief washed over me, as I realized, perhaps for the first time, that I could trust my husband. But would he trust me?
“The bodies were drained of blood,” I pressed. “I saw the bite marks. And they were carried out the main gate in a rubbish cart by royal guards.”
“That’s impossible,” Damien said.
“And afterwards, I think an elite tried to compulse me, make me forget what I saw.”
I thought Damien would be surprised, even angry. After all, this was happening in his kingdom, he was supposed to care about this stuff. But my face fell as his expression didn’t flicker. He just studied me thoughtfully.
“You don’t believe me,” I said, letting my shoulders slump. I crossed my arms and leaned back against the couch next to him.
“I want to believe you, it’s just—you’re new here. I don’t know what you think you saw. And you came home late, after sneaking around the citadel at night.”
I wanted to protest, but I bit my tongue when he held up his hand to silence me.
“I get it, you were scared. You see the elites as powerful and dangerous. I know we must seem like monsters to you. But you’re safe. Nobody is going to hurt you. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He leaned forward, gripping my shoulders, and I stiffened. I’d opened up to him, telling him about crimes committed in his kingdom. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, he just didn’t believe me. I wanted to push him away, and wrap myself up in his arms at the same time. Suddenly a vision pierced my mind; a picture of him scattering the books and papers to the ground and bending me over the desk. My breath grew ragged and my pulse jumped. It was suddenly far too warm in here. Was that his thought, or mine? Damien coughed, looking embarrased. He stood awkwardly
and gestured towards the door.
“You’ll eat alone tonight,” he said. “I have work to do.”
I was being dismissed again. I paused at the door, my fingertips clutching the doorframe.
“The one who stopped me was wearing a white mask,” I said quietly before leaving. “I think he was elite, and he told me to forget what I saw and go home. It was real. And you should do something about it, before more people die.”
There was a flicker in his eyes as that confession registered, a look of recognition that sent chills down my spine. He knew something, I was sure of it. But who was he protecting? On my way back to my room, I decided if I was going to survive the citadel, I had to find some allies of my own.
13
Two days passed. Damien said a curt hello or good evening to me when we passed at home, but never let down his brooding guard. I spent my mornings training and my afternoons in the library, trying to find any mention of the word renitent. I came up empty. The most interesting books were scientific journals, with marks and reference notes in Damien’s handwriting—but no matter how hard I stared at the equations and figures, I couldn’t discern their meaning. Higher up on the shelf were stories full of fantasy and castles and dragons, with supernatural beings and trickster gods, and maidens being rescued and falling in love. I tried not to let myself get distracted, but a few of them sucked me in and kept me up so late I had to drag myself to class in the morning.
It wasn’t hard to see myself playing a role in some kind of fantastic journey of my own, though I couldn’t see the purpose. If this were a story, Damien would be kind and heroic. We’d fall in love and live happily ever after, with my whole family in the royal palace. But Damien had barely said two words to me since the other night. Part of me wondered who he was feeding on and why I wasn’t good enough. But I was also angry he didn’t believe me about the dead girls. And now he was keeping secrets about me. Maybe Jessica was right, maybe there was something wrong with me. But that didn’t mean I was going to sit around and do nothing. If children were disappearing in the city, there had to be proof. I just had to find it.
Class kept me busy, but I still felt like I was missing something. A purpose, maybe, a mission. All my life, I’d been waiting to find out what would happen, waiting for things beyond my control. In Damien’s stories, the heroines had a quest, but what was mine? Save my mother? Prove my worth to Damien so he’d keep me in the citadel? Or push him away, so he wouldn’t. I didn’t know what I wanted.
The frustration mounted in class. Although the brutal repetition of practice sparring kept me occupied, Master Svboda never made it easy. She kept adding new challenges into our routines, like balancing glasses of water on our heads and trying to keep from soaking ourselves as we moved. Some days I felt like I was making progress, others I was sure I was the worst in class. After getting bruised and bloodied, we’d drink our elixir and the marks would fade, leaving our skin perfectly smooth and clear—except for the ugly marks on my hands. They stood out even more now, angry red against the eggshell white of my skin.
This was definitely not the life I imagined waiting for the chosen in the citadel.
“Can you tell us more about the Trials?” Jazmine asked one day during a water break. “Maybe it would help to know what we were preparing for?”
“I can’t share any specifics that would give you an advantage,” Master Svboda said. “Besides, how you deal with the surprises that you’re unprepared for will be the most important indicators.”
“Indicators of what though?” I asked. “I mean, I don’t even get why the Trials are necessary. What difference does it make whether we win or lose? Why do we have to prove ourselves at all?”
Some of the other girls nodded in agreement, and I even saw an eager look in Jessica’s eye. Maybe I wasn’t the only one wondering what we were fighting for.
“You’re fighting for the honor and glory of your elite,” Master Svboda said. “The elite don’t need the covenant. The king allows it because it’s fun. It keeps the elite engaged in the ceremony, but it’s mainly a distraction and rivalry; a form of gambling even. The elite keep an eye out for chosen who will make interesting contenders. It gives them something to do, to fill the long decades. Without the chosen and the Trials, the elite would get bored, turn on each other, and cause problems.”
“So we’re entertainment. Sport? Like racing dogs?” Camina asked, wrinkling her nose and crossing her arms.
“I think that depends on your elite, but no, not like dogs. The elite are also expected to have a relationship with you; they wouldn’t have chosen you if they didn’t find you attractive. The Trials and the competition is just one factor—some elite don’t care about it at all. But each year, one chosen will win and become the champion. It’s a glorified position; it means increased prestige to the elite’s house, but also a marked increase in your own personal power and autonomy.”
“In the citadel, most humans are second-class citizens. There may be laws against the elite hurting us or feeding on us without permission, but not all of the elite agree with those laws. Some see us as critically inferior. Soft. Weak. Stupid. Many humans are treated with disdain and scorn; little more than indentured servants.”
“Why don’t they leave?” Mary asked.
“Life here for most is still better than in the compounds. Also, there’s the possibility of more elixir. The elite are free to share their blood with whomever they want, as long as humans are careful not to exceed the regulations. Some humans, once they get a taste for it, aren’t willing to get only one drop a week. I’m sure some of you can appreciate that feeling. You’re faster now, stronger than you were before you arrived. If you stopped taking your daily elixir, it would be a difficult adjustment period returning to your former selves.”
“Do well in the Trials, and continue living well in the capital. Earn the respect of your elite and the community. Everyone watches the Trials—it’s your chance to prove yourself as more than just a pretty face; as an equal and a real partner. It brings honor for your husband to have chosen well. But don’t do it for them. Do it for you. If you become champion, there is almost nothing King Richard would refuse you. You can have anything you desire. Pardon anyone. Save anyone.” Master Svboda caught my eye and gave me a meaningful look. Did she know about my mother?
So if I won the Trials, I might be able to request extra elixir for my mother. The only question was, would she last that long.
Class was almost over when I heard murmurs and looked behind me. King Richard stood in the doorway, wearing a dark suit, a black cape and a bright red tie. Master Svboda bowed low at his entrance and the girls followed her lead.
I’d been sparring with Jazmine, and she took advantage of the distraction to twist my arm and shove my face hard into the mat. I could already feel the bruise forming on my cheek, but Master Svboda told us we’d have to wait till tomorrow for more elixir. Today we’d just feel the pain.
King Richard frowned at my dirty training outfit.
“I’m sorry,” I said, hanging my head. “I wasn’t expecting to do anything today.”
“It’s not a problem,” he said. “I just wanted to check in on your progress. After all, I’ve never had a daughter-in-law join the Trials before. I wanted to see if you needed any help. But first, perhaps, a tour? How much have you seen of the citadel?”
“Not much,” I admitted. “Between classes, I haven’t had time to explore.”
“It’s a shame my son hasn’t been showing you the city. You need to understand the marvels of this place to appreciate the entire project.”
“The project?”
“What we’re doing here. The importance of it all.”
I shrugged.
“Can we stop by the apartment first so we can grab some clothes?”
“No need. I had Claire pick something up.”
He nodded behind him and Claire came forward with a nervous bow. She accompanied me into the bathroom and helped me change into
a lightweight gown, with blue silk, trimmed with gold and floral embroidery. It was the fanciest dress I’d ever worn, apart from the one at the Presentation ceremony.
“How’s this look?” I asked, coming out of the stall. But Claire had already stepped outside, and instead I saw Jessica glaring back at me from the mirror. Her red eyes told me she’d been crying. In the bright lights I could see bruises on her neck and shoulders, and multiple bite marks that made my blood run cold.
“Are they hurting you?” I asked softly.
“You’re so naïve,” she said, flipping her hair back. “What did you expect? Just because you were too prude to know what you were getting into, doesn’t mean that I was.” Her eyes sparkled as she stormed out of the bathroom. I washed my face in the sink, and when I looked up a blinking red light in the corner caught my eye. A camera? But why here?
King Richard led me through the city, pointing out a few of his favorite spots: a garden of sculptures; an art gallery with thousands of beautiful paintings; vertical rows of planted vegetables on an automated watering schedule.
“It’s enough to feed everyone in the citadel year round,” King Richard said. “Humans live in better health than ever, and can develop their unique skills at leisure. We’re always on the lookout for exciting ideas. Imagine if we took the greatest scientific minds, gave them unlimited resources and kept them alive and healthy for a few extra centuries. What couldn’t we achieve?”