by RaeLynn Fry
“How's your injury?” I ask.
“Great.” He lifts up the hem of his shirt to his armpit to show me the gash. “That salve works wonders. It’s loads better than last night.”
I lean in and examine the wound. Through the clear goop of the salve, I can see he's right. It looks almost healed—which is amazing. I can see where the skin has already started to knit itself back together at the ends.
“That's terrific,” I say.
He lets his shirt fall back down. “I know. At this rate, I'll be back to my old self in a day or two. Oh, Ella, I have a favor.” He turns to face her.
I see her eyes flit to the bag he deposited earlier and back to Ethan. “Let me guess, laundry?”
He gives a shy smile. “If you wouldn't mind,” Ethan says. “You know I hate to ask, but nobody does it like you.”
“Don't give me that. Your flattery only works when you accompany it with chocolate.”
Ethan pulls out a small package wrapped in colorful paper, tied with a bright bow. “I know.”
She waves him away and goes to open the bag. A stench so powerful I almost gag perfumes the kitchen. Ella plugs her nose and waves at the air in front of her. “Ethan William—! What do you have in here?”
He cringes. “I know; I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting the little set back that caused that odor.”
I mimic Ella's plugged nose and look to find genuine regret on Ethan's face.
“I'll do my best to get it out, but I can't make any promises. I may end up having to burn them,” Ella says, tying the bag closed.
“I hope not. Those are my favorite pair of pants.”
“Then you shouldn't have worn them doing whatever it was you were doing.”
“What is it you were doing, anyway?” I unplug my nose and quickly pinch it again; the smell’s not even close to being tamed.
“Like I said, top secret stuff I can't really talk about.”
“Swimming in a sewer is top secret?”
“Not a sewer,” he says defensively. “A back door. Of sorts.”
“Well,” Ella says, “next time use the front door, or you'll be doing your own wash.”
Ethan salutes. “Yes ma'am. You ready, Karis?”
I stare at him in surprise. “Ready? For what?”
“To take a trip into the city. What else?”
“Ethan, I don't think I should be gallivanting around. I’m not here to have fun.”
Ethan rolls his eyes. “Ella said last night it was going to take time to get what she needs. You'll just be sitting here, doing nothing. You might as well be out and about instead of twiddling your thumbs.”
I look over at Ella, and she nods. “You might as well try to distract yourself while I'm working on the medicine. It will help you pass your time faster. There’s nothing really you can do, and if you stay here, I may ask you to help with this.” She holds a soiled sock out, as far as her arm can stretch. “If it makes you feel better, there’s a list of supplies on the counter. You and Ethan can stop by the market and pick them up for me.”
I definitely don’t want to wash Ethan’s putrefied clothes, and being out in the fresh air would be a nice distraction. Ethan’s already at the back of my chair, pulling it out for me.
“Come on, Karis. It’ll be fun,” he says.
“Oh, alright,” I say. I follow him to the back door, grabbing the shopping list from the counter, leaving behind half a grapefruit and a plate of untouched eggs.
Sixteen
“How is it that the air is breathable here?” I ask when we’re outside.
“Huh?” Ethan says as he takes us through the streets.
“The air, in Dahn, how is it breathable? I haven’t noticed any filters around. In Neech, it’s never quiet, there are so many.”
Ethan shrugs. “That’s one of the things I’ve been trying to figure out. There are no cameras here, either.”
I glance around. Now that he’s said something, I realize I haven’t noticed any. “Is it because the Corporation trusts the citizens of Dahn more?”
“I don’t think the Corp trusts anyone.”
We’re nearing the market, and the air is starting to clutter with talking. We walk by a group of girls who, as soon as they see Ethan and me together, lean their heads in, casting looks as we walk by.
“Ignore them,” Ethan says as we enter into the buzz of the market. “Just typical Inner City girls—superficial and dull all at the same time. It’s quite a talent, really.”
“How would you know what typical Inner City girls act like?”
“You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed a pattern since being here.” He raises a brow.
He’s right. I’ve noticed a pattern among all the Inner City citizens.
Ethan administers a charismatic smile to a fat man in a well-tailored suit as we walk by.
“How are you doing, my boy?” The man slaps Ethan on the shoulder as we pass.
“Looking good,” Ethan returns. His grip tightens on my arm, but his face betrays nothing but calm. I can’t believe he’s confident enough to act so casually.
A group of boys our age huddle against a building, eyeing us as we walk by. They hoot and holler. “Pretty thing on your arm,” one with shaggy red hair says. He winks at me. Ethan draws me into his side and offers a tight smile as the group steps out a few feet ahead of us.
“Yes,” Ethan says, “on my arm.”
“Pass her my way when you're through, will ya?” The red head winks at me again.
My cheeks start to burn. “I'll pass something his way.”
Ethan tries to suppress a smile as he picks up our pace. “Simmer down.”
“Why do you act like you know everyone?”
“Just playing the part they expect me to play. In Dahn, you always make eye contact.”
“It seems dangerous,” I say.
“Only if caught.”
“Are you Paired?” I ask. It’s a silly, out of the blue question, and I don’t know what made me ask it, but my heart sinks a little when I do.
“Everyone our age is; you know that.”
“Not me. Not anymore, anyway.”
“How can you not be Paired anymore?”
My mood shadows.
“Wait a minute,” Ethan’s voice goes soft. “The Sharma boy—Kavin—he was your Pair?”
I don’t say anything. Tears are already welling in my eyes. I blink them back.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. Kavin’s a good guy.”
I only nod.
“I met him once.”
“You did? When?”
“The same way I met you.”
“Cornered in a dark alley?”
“Outside the Artist’s place in the Black Market.”
“Oh,” I say, in a voice so small it couldn’t possibly belong to me.
Ethan takes a deep breath. “Yes, I’m Paired, but I won't go through the ceremony until the absolute last moment. The girl chosen for me is as fantastically horrid as they come. I’m still trying to figure a way out of it all. I’m close.”
A half laugh slips from between my lips at the absurdity of his statement. “She can't be that bad,” I insist.
“You haven't met her, and you're not her Pair. She has scraggly blond hair and buck teeth.” He uses the fingers of his left hand to illustrate how tangled and protruding her front teeth are. “And she's positively boring with no sense of humor or adventure. And she’s named after a rock.”
“A rock?” I laugh so hard my eyes start to water.
“So you can appreciate my plight?” he asks with a smile.
“Yes, I can.”
The market is alive more today than yesterday. “Don't Inner City citizens ever work?” I ask.
Ethan shrugs. “You'll find things are very different here. Working isn't exactly a priority. Going to the market is more of a social event.”
“What is a priority?”
“Self-indulgence. Fun. Society functions. Anything that let
s a citizen show off the fact that they have more than someone else.”
“Don't they know everything we do in Neech makes all of this is possible? Don't they care?”
“They care only if their lifestyle is threatened. The source of all this isn’t questioned as long as they get to live their lives the way they're accustomed to. Keeping that uninterrupted is the Corporation's modus operandi. And if it means extending Outer City hours, cutting down supplies and medicine so Dahn can have more, so be it.”
We walk through the crowd of people, Ethan steering us expertly past a group of official-looking woman dressed in white suits. He keeps his head down, and I follow suit, fighting to lower my voice and keep the people around us from overhearing.
“The Corp tells us that animals other than livestock are a waste of resources, and our water is so rationed, we barely have enough to live off, yet Dahn has grass and decorative plants and animals for pleasure. Factory hours are extended, and Neech is given more work to make sure there’s enough for everyone, and the vendors in Dahn sell those goods at exorbitant prices, pocketing the profit. Our food rations are cut, yet the Corporation demands we harvest and give them more. All I’ve heard so far from Dahn citizens are accusations that we’re lazy and selfish.” It's hard not to ride the wave of anger and injustice that speaking the truth brings. My irritation rises, and I hate the Corporation even more than before. The citizens of Dahn are no different than their master.
Ethan rests his hand on my arm, trying to soothe my anger. His touch is soft, almost nervous. There’s strain behind his words as he tries to keep them jovial. “So, I guess now wouldn't be a good time to take you to see the horses?” He gives me a tense smile, probably seeing in my eyes that I'm inches away
from murdering someone. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself, borrowing Papa’s method.
“Tell me about your family,” he says in an attempt to change the subject. I let him.
“It's just me, Papa, and Ajna.”
“What about your mom?”
I bristle at the casualness in which he asks such a serious question.
He studies my face. “I'm sorry; if it's off limits, you don't have to answer.”
Even though it is, I want to. Part of me wants to talk about it and get it out in the open. Papa was always out of the question; the scar she left will forever be too raw for him to be able to relive the truth. And Ajna’s too young to remember anything.
I take a deep breath. “She left not long after my brother was born.”
“She left?” Ethan turns and looks at me, his eyes wide with disbelief.
I nod tightly.
“But why?”
I shrug. “Don't know. Papa blames the Corporation, but he’s never told me why.”
“And you've never wanted to find out what really happened?” he asks.
“She didn't care enough about her family to stay; why should I care enough to find out why she left?”
There’s an uncomfortable air between us as we continue to walk through the market.
“What about your family?” I ask.
Ethan shrugs. “Typical tyrannical father.” He gives a chuckle. “My mom died giving birth to me. My father’s always working so I’m pretty much on my own.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be; I like it that way. It’s better than the alternative.”
“Which is?”
“Spending time with the old man.”
I can’t help but smile.
“You hardly ate anything at breakfast,” Ethan says.
“You ate enough for both of us.” I distract myself by looking at some bright fabric.
“You need to keep your strength up.” Ethan and I weave through the different booths and stop in front of a bakery, the aroma of yeast and sugar surrounds us. “Two sweet rolls, please,” Ethan says. I wonder if they’re as good as Sachi’s. Ethan holds out his arm, the inside of his wrist facing up.
“Ethan.” This proves it; he’s crazy to do something so stupid. Black Market Marks don’t have credits on them. Do they?
The baker wipes his floured hands on the front of his apron and takes a scanner from under his counter, running it over Ethan's Mark. It gives a satisfied beep and the baker hands him two sweet rolls. Ethan hands one to me as we walk away. I stare at him in disbelief.
“What’re you looking at me like that for?” Ethan takes a bite of his pastry.
“How'd you do that?” I ask.
“Do what?”
“Pay for the sweet rolls with your Mark?”
He shrugs. “I had a good Artist. They can do more than just change your caste.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I give him a sideways glance. I wonder if my new tattoo will let me do the same. “Is that how you’re able to blend in as well as you do here?”
Ethan pushes the rest of the roll into his mouth, chews a few times then swallows. “That, my dear, is the result of pure talent.” As if to prove his point, he gives a sweeping bow and greets a woman as she passes us in the street. “You look splendid this morning!” Her cheeks turn pink, and she giggles like a girl.
I frown, annoyed that he seems to have that effect on every woman—young and old. “Isn't that dangerous?”
“Why?”
“Because, the more you interact with them, the more you risk being found out that you don’t belong.”
“Or, the more I interact with them, the more convincing I become.”
He brings up a dangerous, but good, point. “Why do you spend so much time in here in Dahn? Is it because you like it?”
He stiffens. “The opposite. I do it because of how much I loathe it.”
I shake my head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“In its own way, it does.” He lowers his voice and steps closer to me so that our hands brush as we walk. “The Corp's up to something, and whatever it is, it isn’t good. I have bits of information here and there, but I need more pieces before I can get the full picture. Pieces that are only in Dahn.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you think it’s slightly odd that there’s this mysterious sickness sweeping through both cities?”
“Not really, no.”
“Then what about the bodies being dumped in Neech?”
“I agree that’s strange, but how can you tie those to the Corporation?”
“I think they’re people the Corp’s been experimenting on. But I don’t know why, yet.”
“There you go again with Corporation conspiracies.”
“How can you say you don't believe in some level of conspiracy after seeing what’s in the Inner City versus the lies they've been feeding you in Neech?” I don't say anything. “Did you watch the bulletin this morning?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I slept in.”
“Listen to the repeat tonight. There’s no way you won’t start doubting the best interests and intentions of the Corporation. Where’s Ella’s list?” I pull out a piece of paper from my pocket, handing it over. He glances at it. “I think we can get the majority of Ella’s list at Mag’s shop.” I follow him through the streets to the same herb shop I was at yesterday.
“Good morning!” the old woman greets. Then her expression changes to something sour. “Oh no, not you two again.” She waves her hands as if she’s trying to shoo us away. “Away with you. Now. Scat.”
I give Ethan a curious glance, and he shrugs his shoulders. “What kind of welcome is that?”
“An appropriate one, now away with you!”
“Let me explain—”
“There’s nothing to explain. You show up, racing through the market like one of Akin’s horses with two Guards and a vengeful butcher on your heels, and it takes me four hours to clean up the mess.”
“So you recognized me, huh?” Ethan says with a half smile.
Recognized him? How could she know him?
“I’d recognize you anywhere.”
“I’m sorry, Mag; it was a little
misunderstanding between Thomas and me.”
Mag crosses her arms over her chest. “Will your apology pay for the inventory I lost when it was splattered with chicken and pig’s blood?”
“No, but my credits will.” Ethan chuckles and steps forward, taking one of Mag’s hands. In one quick motion, he bends over and ever so gently kisses her weathered skin. I see her look at him suspiciously, then to me.
When Ethan stands tall again, still holding her hand, she speaks. “Ethan Will—”
“Why is everyone insisting on using my full name this morning?”
“Don’t think that one of your sweet kisses will work that easily on me.”
“Why, whatever do you mean, Mag?” Ethan looks as innocent as a baby, and I get the sudden urge to gag.
“Every girl in Dahn must have one of those by now,” she says.
“This one doesn’t.” Ethan tucks some hair behind my ear, and I try desperately not to blush.
“You need to be more selective with what you give away. Pretty soon, they’ll have no meaning at all.”
Ethan looks slightly put out. “You make me sound so scandalous. I’ll have you know very few women have had the pleasure of my lips on their skin.”
“Who’s this one?” Mag jerks her chin in my direction, softening a bit. “Never seen her before. Wait a minute…” She slips her hand from Ethan and peers closer at me. “You were the girl here yesterday, when all that commotion came up.”
“Y-yes, that was me.” My eyes dart from Ethan to Mag and back to Ethan. He doesn’t look as concerned as I think he should. In fact, he looks a little…bored. “Ethan, don’t you have a list…” I let my words trail off, Mag’s stare boring into the back of my skull.
“Yeah.” Ethan consults the items on the list. “Aloe, Echinacea, skullcap, yarrow—”
“What exactly is it you need these ingredients for, young man?”
“Ella sent us….”
The rest of what he says is drowned out by the buzzing of a bee that has to be as big as one of Dhevan’s heifers. Or maybe two. I swat the air around me. All of a sudden my body is being pressed in on all sides. The ground won’t stay still, and everything around me tips up and down. I feel like I’m standing in the center of the sun on a pile of smoldering coals. My skin’s on fire. My stomach starts to clench, and I’m glad I didn’t have anything to eat at breakfast.