by D. S. Murphy
“What are you saying?” I asked, wiping away tears with the back of my hand.
“I think John Patten is your grandfather. Someone from the village must have escaped. They brought your mother to Algrave and left her at the gates. She grew up, married an elite, and had you.”
“But that’s not possible,” I said. “Elite can’t have children, right?”
Damien’s expression hardened.
“John Patten was working on a formula, experimenting with DNA-altering substances. We thought he was working on a way to stop the elites, to turn them human. An antidote. But what if he was actually working on something new? What if he experimented on his wife, his infant daughter, even himself—which somehow allowed your mother to conceive, and pass the gene onto you.”
“So I’m a mutid,” I said. “Great. Is that what renitent means?”
“In the early days of the compounds, there were some people my father couldn’t compulse. We called them renitent. My father wanted to breed it out of the population, to create a more docile, subservient community. Hundreds were put to death. We thought they were all gone, until you.”
He leaned down and kissed my cheek.
“I didn’t see it at first. I just saw a brave girl, facing down an elite. I admired your courage. It lit something in me, made me feel alive for the first time in decades. Maybe I never had anything worth fighting for, until you. You filled a hole in my life I didn’t know existed. I’ve been fighting it, but I can’t anymore. It’s not just the Thirst. It’s not just your blood. It’s you.”
He kissed me again, deeper this time, and I melted into him. He moaned, his eyes full of raw passion.
“I can’t take this anymore,” he said, burying his head in my hair.
“What?” I asked.
“Being this close to you. Smelling you, but not being allowed to taste you.”
“Who says you’re not allowed?” I said, a smile forming on my lips. “After all, we are getting married soon aren’t we? Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
He grinned, then picked me up and tossed me on the bed. I reached for his shirt and tore it off him. I didn’t know who I was anymore or what happened next. All I knew was how his skin felt against mine; how his touch opened up things inside me I’d never experienced before. I reached for his belt buckle, then peeled off my jacket and tossed it on the floor. I heard the heavy weight of the gun hit the ground, then the bang as the gunpowder exploded, firing a silver bullet straight at the wall.
Before I could explain, there were more shots outside, and then someone screamed.
“Stay here!” Damien yelled, reaching for the door. Before he could reach it the door burst in, and we were surrounded by royal guards in uniform. They raised their rifles at us, preparing to fire.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Damien roared, not even reaching for his shirt.
“Forgive the interruption, Prince Hartmann. We’ve discovered the rebel stronghold and are making arrests.”
“And?”
“She’s one of them,” the guard said, pointing at me. Damien was in his face a second later.
“Say that again,” he growled.
“We’ve been tracking her movements,” the guard said. “Tonight she snuck out and met two known rebels. We were able to record her.” He held up a small device, and I heard my voice.
Just give me more time with him, maybe we can retrieve the formula.
“That’s not what it sounds like,” I said, “I would never…”
“There’s more,” the guard said. “We believe this trip was all a ruse to lure you here. We think the rebels were planning to kill you tonight and harvest your blood for elixir.”
“That’s absurd,” I said.
“Then can explain why you’re now carrying an illegal firearm?” The guard said, reaching for my coat. A moment later he retrieved the pistol from the inside pocket. I looked at Damien, wanting to explain, but the shock and hurt on his face stole my words away. He looked more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him.
“Was this your plan all along?” Damien muttered. “Get me alone so you could kill me?”
“It’s not true!” I said. “Trev just gave me that for protection. I forgot it was even there.”
I could see he wanted to believe me, but he didn’t object when the guards put large steel handcuffs around my wrists, then led me outside. In the street, the battle raged on. Several men moved at superhuman speed, slashing at one of the elite guards, but he quickly outmaneuvered them both. Across the street, a house was burning and the fire had spread to a tree in the front yard. I could feel the heat from here. My heart was pounding, and I could feel dust from the road sticking to the sweat on my forehead.
I saw Trev, bleeding from a gash in his forehead, being carried away. He was reaching behind him for something, and shouting. I followed his gaze, and looked towards my house. The lights were still on, and Jamie and Loralie stood outside, crying. I didn’t understand why at first, there was too much noise and fire and smoke. But then I saw the body, lying in front of them, wearing a pink cardigan and the leather sandals I’d made her for her birthday three years ago. The woman I believed to be my mother. The woman who taught me how to peel an apple in one curly piece. The woman we’d come to Algrave to save. Dead on the ground, her glassy eyes staring up at me in surprise, her mouth open in a scream that rang in my ears and echoed through my own mouth, a scream that shook the universe and boiled my blood. My skin trembled, and I sank to my knees, pounding my fists into the dirt, and watering the earth with tears of rage.
23
I hadn’t seen the sky in days, though it was hard to mark the passage of time in my cell the prison tower—a round, windowless room. I screamed at first, pounding my fists into the barricaded door until my skin was ragged and bloody. After days of seeing visions in the dark stones, I started to miss the swirling ash, the hint of a light source behind the dark gray clouds.
I waited for Damien to barge his way in and save me, as soon as he figured out the truth. But what was the truth? I wasn’t a rebel, or an assassin, but that didn’t mean I was guiltless. I knew about Trev and Marcus without telling him. The gun was harder to explain, but I was sure I could get Damien to believe me—if he would just give me a chance.
But he never came. Every time I shut my eyes, I saw the look of betrayal on Damien’s face just before I was arrested. He was probably thinking of John Patten, my grandfather, the only other human he’d been close to. The only other human to wound him so deeply.
When the door did finally open, it was King Richard. He removed the wood panel, but left the tight row of iron bars holding me in the cell. I thought he was a mirage at first, until he set a bowl of soup on the ground and my stomach rumbled at the smell of food. I wanted to throw it at him, but slurped it down instead, then cleaned the bowl with my fingers.
“Where’s Damien?” I asked finally. “What have you done with him?”
“Do you think I’d hurt my own son?” The king asked. “If he hasn’t visited you, that’s his choice.”
“So what’s next?” I asked. “Public execution? Like Penelope?”
“For what?” he asked. “The long lost daughter of a famous rebel, marries Prince Damien, infiltrates the resistance and single-handedly destroys the rebellion. That’s a pretty good story, don’t you think?”
“Is that what you think happened?”
“What difference does it make, what really happened? I should be thanking you. We figured the rebels might try to make contact, so we’ve been keeping a close eye on you. You led us right to them. You know, you have your grandfather’s eyes. The same fire, the quiet smoldering, as if you’d love nothing more than to tear my heart out. I should have seen it sooner.”
“Where are my friends?” I asked.
“You mean the other rebels, and curate Marcus I assume? Their lives are in your hands.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Marry my son. H
e loves you, I can tell. You’d be good together, good for each other. You don’t like how I’m running things, fine, you can change them. You’ll have more power here, with us, than you’d ever have aiding the rebels. You know as well as I do what would happen if the rebels ever actually succeeded. They’d die out there, unprotected. And eventually, so would we. I know you’re a believer, I saw it at renewal.”
“You killed my mother. Why would I help you?”
“I think we both know she wasn’t your real mother,” he said. “And my guards tell me she resisted arrest. But let’s not make this all about me. After all, you did try and kill my son.”
“I’d never hurt Damien,” I said quickly.
“So maybe that pistol was meant for me?”
“It was meant for my protection, and it wasn’t my idea. After all, I’ve already been attacked by one slagpaw, in your citadel.”
“That was unfortunate, yes. A message, sent to my son I think. We will find out who’s responsible for that. But until then, I say we put this misunderstanding behind us and move forward. In the trials, you’ll prove your strength. Your love will unify the compounds, your passion will inspire them. It’ll also keep out any rogue elite, if they see the strength of our family.”
“Go to hell,” I said.
“You will marry, or you will die. It’s your choice. Tell you what, I’ll add an incentive. If you win the trials, I’ll spare what’s left of your family.” My throat tightened, thinking about Jamie and Loralie.
“What about my friends?” I asked.
“I’ll leave their fates in your hands,” he smiled. “I promise.”
The day of the trials I had another visitor. Tobias entered the small cell, a cape flowing behind him, in what looked like a guard’s uniform. I pulled away instinctively, burrowing into the dark corner against the bricks. His eyes softened and he reached out a hand gently to help me up.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. “King Richard gave me a promotion, it came with some new clothes. Master of Ceremonies. You like?” He turned to show me the uniform, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“What about Penelope?” I tried to ask, but the words got stuck in my parched throat.
Tobias snapped his fingers and had the guards bring water and breakfast. Eggs, toast and bacon—even a little coffee. I practically fainted from the smell.
“You get new clothes too,” Tobias said, ignoring my question.
“You’re kidding,” I asked when he took out a pink dress and a white leather jacket, with metal studs and padded elbows.
“All the chosen are wearing them,” Tobias said. “Not my finest work, but the king wanted something to make you look magnificent, yet vulnerable and human. In the past, he’s wanted the chosen to look like goddesses, but this time he thinks it might alienate the compounds.”
“They’ll be watching?” I asked.
“The trials? Everyone will be watching. This is the biggest event of the year.”
“But, why? Why are you helping him?”
“We can talk more after the trials,” he said. “All you need to do is survive.”
“Is that all?” I scoffed. “I thought I was supposed to win. The king seems pretty intent on a royal wedding.”
“He’s not the only player on the board,” Tobias whispered, leaning in closer. “I’ve heard talk among the elite that he’s getting weak, old. Some of them might make a move. After all, if it’s good for the king, it’s bad for them. The trials would be the perfect opportunity to take you out and ruin whatever schemes he was planning.”
“But, who would dare?”
“The trials are dangerous. Fatalities are not unheard of. You’ll get ten drops at the beginning of the trials, and there’s more hidden among the challenges. But most elite cheat, and will give their chosen extra elixir to help them win. There are some serious bets in place. Losing the trials could jeopardize their position at court, their influence with the king, their duties for the next year. Just be careful.”
“I watched the trials when I was younger,” I said. “Flat screens were brought in for the event. The chosen always seemed invincible, fearless.”
“It’s because they were high on elixir,” Tobias said. “Which will make the other chosen unpredictable, even dangerous. You can’t trust anyone out there, understand?”
I nodded.
“You have an advantage,” Tobias said, dropping his voice, then checked to make sure nobody was listening. “First, the elixir will hit you more than the others. It’ll make you stronger, faster, for longer. They’ll use theirs in bursts and it will run out by the end. We only give the chosen ten drops because any more and they’d go crazy with blood rage and start killing each other. But you,” Tobias said. “You are special. We don’t even understand all the things you’re capable of yet. I’ve added a little something to your uniform.”
He held up the sleeve of the white leather jacket and and wrapped my finger around a little bulge hidden in the seam. “Blood capsules,” Tobias whispered. “Five drops each. Just bite into it to release the elixir. It should help you stay alive, if you’re careful. At the end of the ceremony, you could be nearly as fast as us.”
“What good would that do?” I asked.
“The king doesn’t know you’re renitent,” Tobias said. “He doesn’t know you can resist him. If he knew what you were capable of, he would have killed you already. You’ll have a second, maybe two, when the king realizes he can’t control you. And you’ll be close to him, when he presents you the trophy.”
For a second, I didn’t understand what he wanted me to do. But then it sunk in.
“You want me to kill the king?” I asked, my eyes rounding in surprise. Was Tobias one of the rebels? Or was this just revenge for Penelope?
“We’ll never get another chance like this,” Tobias said.
“Does Damien know?”
“He’s confused right now,” Tobias said. “Torn by his feelings for you and loyalty to his father. But he’ll come around.”
“What about Trev and curate Marcus? And my family? He’ll kill them.”
“He won’t have the chance,” Tobias said. “Unless you miss.”
I was allowed a hot bath and a private room to change clothes. The outfit was snug and theatrical, but I saw Tobias had also added some practical alterations in the design—thicker leather around the elbows, for example. The pink dress offered little in the way of protection, but at least it didn’t get in the way.
Outside I had to raise my hands against the bright lights. In the center of the city, where the plaza used to be, was an enormous maze made of wood and vines. The other chosen were dressed like me, pink skirts and white leather jackets, and looking out over the crowds. Camina saw me first. She smiled and squeezed my hand. Jazmine winked and Mary let out a little wave.
“Are you okay?” She mouthed.
I nodded, wondering how much they knew about where I’d been. If the king was still expecting me to marry Damien, he probably concealed the truth about what happened in Algrave. We were separated onto platforms and I watched the large screen as the king stepped into view. Seconds later, his voice boomed over the loudspeakers hidden throughout the city. Though I could see him sitting on his royal balcony with a clear view over the whole city, his voice seemed to be everywhere, and nowhere all at once.
“On this noble day,” he said, raising his hands, “this year’s chosen will prove their devotion and loyalty by voluntarily submitting to the trials, which will test their faith, and also their commitment. This honors the covenant, and demonstrates that the chosen are willing, even eager partners, who will put themselves in danger on behalf of their elite partners. This is their chance to prove themselves worthy of this great offer. As many of you know, this year is particularly special for me, because this year I’ll be gaining a daughter-in-law.
“Emily Sharrow, please step forward.”
I hesitated only a second, before stepping forward as asked.
But I couldn’t give the king any reason to suspect me. Not yet. I waved to the crowd and smiled. My image was projected on the giant screens, spread throughout the city. It was the first time I’d seen my face since my mother’s death. I wondered how many tears had been shed since then, and how Tobias managed to cover up all that sadness with a little makeup and eye shadow. I almost hated the girl smiling for the cameras. She looked too happy, too pretty, too composed. Like she didn’t even care. But I had to play the part, for now.
Damien was standing next to his father, in a crisp white tuxedo with a pink tie. Our eyes connected, and even from this far away, I could see the accusation in his eyes. What would he say if he knew Tobias’s plan. Did he have any idea what was coming? Would he defend his father? I shuddered at the image of needing to fight with Damien. But it wouldn’t come to that. I had to be faster. If the deed was done, would Damien embrace change? Maybe Damien would be a better ruler. Or would killing his father turn him into another tyrant? And would the rebels seriously let Damien live, or would they execute all the elite?
I didn’t see how it would come to that. Even if I could defeat the king, there were still dozens of elite in the citadel. They’d massacre the humans, and execute the traitors. Without the king’s compulsion, it would be full-on war until both sides had practically destroyed themselves. I didn’t agree with the king’s methods, but I couldn’t imagine an alternative.
Either way, it all depended on me winning the trials. Then I could get close enough to kill the king. Or, I could win the trials and see if the king honored the deal he’d made with me—free Trevor and the other captured rebels. No matter what I did, people I cared about would get hurt.
After the initial announcements, the cameras cut to a troupe of clowns and performers. Master Svboda took the moment to address us quietly. She was wearing a soldier’s jacket, with white leather pants that matched our outfits. It must be this year’s theme.