Elected (The Elected Series Book 1)

by Rori Shay

  “Griffin, you have to tell me. Who is the assassin? And how do you know I met Vienne today?”

  Griffin looks to his left over his shoulder, away from me.

  “Come on,” I say. “I’ll take care of it. You won’t have to do anything. Just give me the name.”

  “That’s what I worry about.” Griffin chooses to answer my second question first. “Okay, I know Vienne. I’ve known who she was since she first moved into the White House fourteen years ago.”

  I’m shocked at this. “You have? She’s been there for that long?”

  “I’ve spent a lot of time wandering the halls of your house, waiting for my father. I couldn’t help notice Vienne’s studies were different from other kids’. She took something called psychology lessons. Normal kids don’t get that training. Believe me.”

  “You’ve made a pastime of watching me and my future wife,” I grumble.

  “Just as you made a pastime of watching me.”

  Again, I’m embarrassed. I can feel the color rise in my cheeks to a hot crimson. I sense his arm braced up against mine. The skin tingles, making my arm feel more alive than the rest of my body. I’m conscious, not for the first time, that the man I’ve thought about from afar for the past four years is now close enough to touch. It’s a dangerously delicious feeling that continues to threaten my future. I tamp down the thought of his skin’s proximity to mine and continue a now gentler line of questioning.

  “So, if you won’t hand over the assassin, it means you must have already taken care of him?”

  Griffin winces like I’ve hit him in the gut. He doesn’t say anything.

  “So I’m right,” I say.

  Griffin looks back at me ruefully. “Sort of. I... neutralized the situation.”

  I’m quiet for a moment, letting the idea I might be safe ease its way through my nerve endings. My hands, which I didn’t even realize were pinched into fists, automatically release. Maybe I can trust Griffin. He admits he knows who the traitor is, but he says he’s found a way to protect me from the threat. I don’t relish the thought of watching another prisoner die today. Maybe however Griffin’s rectified the situation is good enough for now.

  My next words come out so fast I don’t even pause to think them through. “I think you should be part of my personal guard.”

  Griffin grins, his happiness causing me to smile too. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

  12

  I stand up, brushing fragments of concrete off my pants.

  “Guards, please come in!” I call in a loud voice. Immediately, Tomlin and the two guards who were with him earlier enter the room. “Release Griffin.”

  “Elected?” Tomlin asks, clearly bewildered.

  “Griffin doesn’t know what I thought he knew.” It’s a lie, and I look away from Tomlin as I say it. “But I have other plans for him. He’s going to be one of my bodyguards.”

  Tomlin looks down at the ground, trying hard to suppress a smile. “Whatever you wish, Elected.”

  The two guards on either side of Tomlin unshackle Griffin’s arms. Griffin pulls at his wrists, stretching them for the first time.

  I start to walk out of the prisoner’s room with Griffin close behind me. But I turn my head back and say to Tomlin, “And the Multiplier...”

  He stops to look at me again. “Yes?”

  “No one should wear the Mind Multiplier again.”

  Tomlin coughs, aware this is a subtle reprimand of the callous way he disregarded my personal safety in order to try the device. I look into his eyes, trying to guess if he tried the Multiplier himself before putting it on my head.

  The way he avoids my gaze gives away the answer. I wonder what he’s seen.

  “It’s too dangerous,” I say.

  Tomlin nods, feeling my recrimination. “Do you want me to destroy it?”

  “No, please give it to Vienne. I trust she’ll keep it safe and out of anyone’s hands.”

  Tomlin nods again. “Of course, Elected.” He bows slightly, a gesture I’m not familiar with yet, especially from my long-time teacher.

  The group of us returns through the long corridor of the prison, back into the lobby and then outside. As we walk, our boots churn up a billowing cloud of dust and dirt. We’re about halfway across the wide lawn when I see a maid running toward us.

  “Elected,” she chokes out, breathless.

  I stop in my tracks and put both of my hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Vienne...” Worry is etched across her forehead. Her outstretched arm points toward the White House.

  Before she can even finish her statement, I’m running. I feel the thud of earth behind me as Griffin, the two guards, and Tomlin run after me, their footsteps falling heavy on the ground. From my smaller frame and long hours of play fighting, I’m faster than any of them.

  I reach the front doors of the house first. In the foyer, I look frantically left and right, realizing I don’t know exactly where Vienne stays now that she’s almost the Madame Elected.

  The maid is close behind us and points me to the left. “She’s in her quarters.”

  I follow the maid to a set of double doors. Our whole party trails close behind. I throw open the doors, not even bothering with a polite knock.

  Vienne looks up sharply as we all rumble into the room.

  “Are you okay?” My question comes out as a gasp.

  “Of course,” she says. Her hands are folded against her stomach in what seems to be a relaxed state, but as I stare at her, I see she’s clasping them so hard, her nails make white imprints into the skin.

  I look around the room, searching for the danger, confused. “The maid said something... was wrong.”

  Vienne stands up from her seated position in a chair and wipes a hand across her brow.

  “Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

  But, it’s not just me who’s worried. Griffin walks past me to where Vienne leans her hand against a table. “You don’t look so good,” he says, his concern for her also apparent.

  In that instant, I remember that Griffin and Vienne know each other. It’s obvious in the way Griffin lays a hand delicately on her arm. All of a sudden, I feel like a third party in the room. It makes me feel like spiders are crawling up my arms. The tingle of jealousy and my own shame threaten to topple me.

  Vienne looks up at Griffin with a tentative smile. “I’m truly fine. Just a fainting spell.”

  “She collapsed?” I ask the maid, coming out of my stupor.

  “Yes, while dressing the dead prisoner,” the maid says.

  I take the silver key from the string around my neck, ready to open our family’s vault and retrieve a purple pill for Vienne even though I realize it’s overkill.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Vienne says, looking directly into my eyes. She knows exactly what I was about to do. “I was just startled when I saw this.”

  My eyes move down to where Vienne is looking. On the table before her is something wrapped in a cloth.

  Griffin lifts the fabric and picks up the small object, confused what to do with it.

  Tomlin walks closer, his earnestness for learning taking precedent. “It’s a gun. Vienne, did it hurt you?” He looks over her arms and legs for any sign of injury.

  “No, I barely touched it. It fell out of Imogene’s jacket pocket.”

  “From Imogene?” I ask, incredulous. “How did she have a gun on her?”

  The guards shake their heads in response, as flummoxed as I am. “I need answers to that,” I say to them.

  The head guard nods, bows to me, and says, “Elected, we’ll give you a report by tonight.” Both guards exit the room to start their investigation.

  “A gun,” Tomlin says again in awe. He lifts a hand to his forehead. “I haven’t seen a gun for years. Your father led the melting party years ago.”

  “Just like our stores of long arrows were destroyed?” I ask, disheartened.

  Griffin grimaces,
but I don’t have time for his discomfort over the assassin right now. I settle my eyes back on Vienne.

  “But, were you hurt by it in any way?” I ask her again. I don’t completely understand how guns work. Just that they can fire and cause holes in people. Holes that kill people instantly.

  Vienne shakes her head again. “It just clattered to the floor as I was preparing Imogene for burial.”

  Tomlin opens the gun’s casing to inspect it.

  “How do we now have guns in our country?” I ask him. “This is spinning out of control.”

  He nods in agreement. “We are certainly seeing an uptick in technology use.” We all look down, acknowledging this fact with grimly set lips. Finally, Tomlin says, “I’m going to follow the guards to investigate. If you’ll excuse me?” He bows toward me and exits the room.

  “Do you think we should do a metal scan?” Vienne asks.

  A metal scan is when guards walk around the entire country, using a chemical compound to detect the presence of metal. It’s a process that doesn’t rely on technology to work. Only science. While technology is outlawed, science and chemistry are subjects we study and revere. To us, technology is anything run with oil or electricity. But, the art of natural science, the study of plants, and the understanding of the environment is dear to our society.

  I nod toward Vienne in acceptance of her idea. “I hate to do it, but we need to know if there are other guns out there.”

  “I’ll round up a squad of guards to start the country-wide search,” Griffin says.

  “And you’ll need to talk about this at our next town hall,” Vienne says, walking up next to me. “If we’re starting a wide-spread scan, it’ll frighten our countrymen. They’ll need some kind of explanation.”

  Griffin puts a hand on my shoulder. “Do you think Imogene was planning to use the gun on you?” Griffin’s worry for me now shows itself in a deep crease between his eyebrows.

  I like his attention centered on me, instead of Vienne. But I instantly feel selfish and look away. “I don’t think so. Imogene wasn’t in a state to do harm to anyone else besides herself.”

  Griffin slings an arm across my shoulder. The warmth from his body touching me again feels good, but I can’t let my future wife notice how I like it. I turn slightly so Griffin’s arm is forced to fall away.

  “Protecting you and Vienne is going to be a full time job, isn’t it?” Griffin says.

  “What does he mean?” Vienne asks.

  I smile awkwardly, not wanting to reveal to her I want Griffin near me and have figured out a way to make it happen. “Griffin is one of our new bodyguards.”

  “Oh!” she says without a hint of reservation. “I thought he already was. He’s always in the house, you know.”

  I smile back at her more fully. “Yes, he’s certainly a fixture here.” Then I pause, knowing for once what Vienne would appreciate me saying to her. “As are you.”

  Vienne beams at me, the color now back in her cheeks. “I promise to be a good wife to you.” She kisses me on the temple, her lips leaving a tingle where they brush the skin.

  I blush, not sure what to do with this new sign of affection. I haven’t felt someone kiss me in years, if ever. I try to think back to a time when lips touched my skin, but I can’t remember any instance. Her kiss makes me remember my duty, though.

  I look at the ground as I say the next words, trying to keep my voice steady. I can’t look at either Vienne or Griffin as I say them. It’s like the second the sentence escapes my mouth, imaginary chains will come down to bind my neck, wrists, and ankles. I swallow, already feeling constricted. “We need to have our wedding sooner rather than later.”

  “I’ll start the preparations immediately,” Vienne says, pleasure clear across her face.

  “So soon?” Griffin asks. He grimaces once in Vienne’s direction but then looks quickly away from both of us.

  “Yes, of course,” Vienne says, giving him a pointed look.

  I take advantage of the chill passing through the room to interject another piece of uncomfortable information. “Oh, and... I should tell you,” I say, glancing around to ensure only Griffin and Vienne are left in the room. “Griffin knows I’m a... girl.” I swallow thickly again, wishing there was a glass of water or some other, stronger liquid in the room.

  Vienne stands back from the table, her right hand resting on her hip. She speaks slowly, focusing on me. “You told him? Why?”

  “No! I didn’t... I...”

  “She didn’t tell me. I figured it out,” Griffin says. Thankfully, he doesn’t tell her about seeing the decisive evidence of my femininity up close. “I don’t think anyone else knows besides me. I’ve been listening for rumors of it, but no one suspects.”

  “Okay,” says Vienne. “Then it stays between us and Tomlin. That’s it.”

  I remember my gender endangers not just myself, but if my secret were publicized, Vienne would be executed too.

  “Agreed,” says Griffin.

  Vienne looks back and forth from me to Griffin. She puts a hand on my forehead. “Why don’t you get some sleep, Aloy. You haven’t had much rest over the past few nights.”

  It’s true. My eyes feel droopy. I think of my mother, tucking me into bed the day of the first assassination attempt, and I miss her again. I swallow hard, trying to resolve my feelings of missing my parents, knowing it was only today they left. All I want to do is curl up under soft blankets and block out reality.

  I exit the room, glancing back at Vienne and Griffin for the briefest of seconds. The two of them stare after me. I give them a small smile, then turn around the doorframe, about to head to my room.

  But, I can’t help overhearing their hushed voices coming through the cracked doorway. I pause a moment, feeling conflicted about listening to their obviously private conversation. But Vienne’s next words keep me at the door, my ear pressed up against the wall.

  “You always knew, didn’t you?” she asks.

  Griffin says something in return, but I can’t make out his words. I lean a little closer to the door.

  “Even though it’s confirmed, it doesn’t make a difference,” Vienne says.

  Griffin’s voice is quiet, but this time I can hear some of his response. “...ultimately her decision...”

  “You can’t. You just can’t,” says Vienne.

  Suddenly, I’m tapped on the shoulder. “Elected!” says a young maid, surprised to see me with my ear up against the wall. “Can I get you anything?”

  I cough slightly, looking away from the door. “Oh, ummm... no thanks, no tea for me. Thanks for checking, though. I’m just heading to my room.” My words rush out fast.

  I whirl on my heels before the maid can say anything more. I know she must be looking at me like I’m crazy, since she didn’t ask me anything about tea. The maid bows, keeping wary eyes on me. I proceed in my original direction, left wondering what exactly Griffin can’t do. And, if I’d rather he tried whatever it is.

  13

  It’s been days since my parents left. Days since I hit Griffin. Days since Vienne found the gun among Imogene’s things. It feels like an eternity.

  We’ve been making wedding preparations non-stop for a week, and the town is about ready to celebrate. The bakers and cooks were hard at work, molding marzipan and sugar into elaborate three-dimensional confections. The divers cast nets into the Chesapeake Bay continuously for the past few days, bringing up scores of seafood delicacies like fresh crab and trout—indulgences we don’t usually afford ourselves as a nation. There haven’t been any assassination attempts this week. And, no weapons found. People are busy getting ready for the celebration, migrating to the city center on their nirogene-shined bikes, camping out on the Ellipse in wait.

  With all of the country’s children close together, people are even going out of their way to teach extra lessons. Our education system consists of sharing knowledge. Everyone is a teacher. People sign up to show a group of children their trade, whether it
be chemistry, mining, or planting. Around age twelve, children are expected to choose one line of work and study as an apprentice, so it’s the younger kids who receive the benefit of the varied classes. These sessions are happening more often than usual this week.

  For my part of the wedding preparations, I immerse myself in our few orchards, picking lemons like they’re going out of season. I’m making vats upon vats of lemonade, my mother’s recipe. From up in one of the gnarled lemon trees, I stop my picking for a moment to look over the horizon. The sun is setting a hot pink against the blue sky, turning everything a confectionery shade of purple. It’s gorgeous, or at least I’d let myself think it was if I didn’t know the stunning colors were indications of pollution. I still stare at the sky, letting the last rays of sun hit my upturned face. I don’t look down until I hear voices below me. In the pasture, I see Griffin surrounded by a small group of children. I peer down from my enclosed spot in the tree, watching without being seen.

  “What kind of bird is that?” asks one of the kids.

  “A hawk,” says Griffin. “You want to see its wings extended?”

  “Yes!” come the responses of several younger children who cluster around Griffin’s out-of-the-ordinary bird.

  “Do you always get to play with animals?” asks one girl.

  “Yep, I do. I’m really lucky to know about all kinds of animals. Long ago, people used to call it being a veterinarian.”

  A five-year-old pulls on Griffin’s pants leg and looks up at him with big eyes. “I have a pet animal at home too. A cockroach!”

  I grimace. Many kids keep roaches because they’re hearty and plentiful. They’re some of the only animals that survived after the eco-crisis. They could live through anything.

  “Would you like to hold the bird?” Griffin asks the boy. The child’s head bobs up and down as Griffin places the tame hawk’s feet upon the boy’s shoulder.

  “Wow!” say the other children in unison. “Can we? Can we have a turn? Please!”