“I saw Three earlier, he was carrying Esther—”
“No…he…he got shot…” I shake my head. I can’t think about it. I know Death was here.
Corin’s eyes darken. “I had to find you. I haven’t seen Marouska.”
“She’s not on our side,” I gulp. “It’s not her.”
“What?” Corin’s voice is thick. “She’s a traitor?”
I am a traitor.
No, I was a traitor. But I didn’t hurt anyone. No one suffered because of me. I’m not a traitor. Death was just messing with me, messing with my head.
I force myself to think of Marouska. The imposter. “It wasn’t her. It was all Raleigh’s set up. She was some Enhanced woman he made look like her.”
“But, her eyes?”
Oh Gods. Why hadn’t I realized this before? She knew how to make liquid that hides the eye-mirrors. I look up at Corin.
“The drink…” I take a deep breath. “She—Corin, I drank some Calmness when you and Rahn, Esther and Three were out raiding.” The words come flooding out. “I’m sorry. Marouska—whoever she was—gave me a drink. Some concoction that got rid of the mirrors. She said it would be our secret. I—I think she’s been making that drink to hide her eyes here, I’m sure. She’s been making it all the time… But, Corin, I—I was going to leave you all. I was going to join them. I was going to be a traitor too.”
Corin swears loudly. “I—”
“I’m not now though. It’s wrong, I’m so, so, so sorry.”
Screaming fills our ears. He tenses, and our pace quickens considerably. But he’s still holding onto me—and that makes all the difference.
“We need to get out of here,” he says. “I don’t know if it’s worth looking for Esther and….”
“Of course it’s worth it!”
Corin looks at me for a long second. “I’ll get you to safety first.”
I shake my head, and gasp as pain pours through my neck. “No,” I stammer. I don’t deserve safety. “No, you’re not leaving me on my own. I’m just as strong as you. I’m not weak.”
“You’re valuable, Sev. They can’t get hold of you again. I won’t put you in danger, we can’t risk it.”
“We’re sticking together,” I say firmly, squeezing his hand. I owe it to him, to them all, all the Untamed.
Spirits fly past us, coldness washes over me.
And I see her.
My Seer pendant burns.
I look up at Corin. He’s seen her too. We start running, faster and faster. Corin pulls me along. Faster and faster and—
My mother stands in front of us. It’s her. I’d recognize her anywhere. Sweat glistens on her forehead, in tiny beads. It really is her this time. This isn’t a vision. This is her.
She points a gun at us.
The whole world stops.
I see the way the slight wind catches the stray tendrils of her dark hair, lifting them away from her face. I notice just how similar we look: we have the same full lips, the same well-proportioned faces with noses that are just a tad too long. But her face is lined; grooves dig their way around her face. I’m surprised she’s kept them, now she’s Enhanced. I thought she’d look different. Younger, with skin that was as smooth as an unrippled surface of a lake. But it’s not, she’s not. And now I’m looking, I recognize the small scars on the side of her neck and the one on her right shoulder. She looks the same.
I take a deep breath, feeling myself going to pieces inside. Biting my lip, I look up at her directly. My throat tightens. Her eyes.
“You shouldn’t have sacrificed yourself. It should’ve been Rahn.” My voice catches in my throat, and a strangled noise escapes.
She smiles, and her beauty nearly breaks me.
“It was essential I joined them,” my mother says. “I saw this. I saw an Enhanced One would stop you. I knew I had to sacrifice myself in that raid because I realized it was imperative that it was me who tried to stop you.”
“You’re going to stop us…” Corin trails off. His gun’s on my mother, and his hand’s shaking. I want to reach over, to push the barrel away, but I can’t make my arms move. They’re static, by my side.
My mother trembles. “I’m trying… I have more self-control…but I’ll lapse any second. You need to kill me before I kill you… There’s no one else here to stop you, so kill me and go.”
Corin drags me back as her gun swings low.
“Kill me before they make me kill you!”
“No!” I try to get out of Corin’s grip. “Mum!”
I trip against a loose stone, and Corin pushes me behind him.
“Do it now, Corin! Please, do it now! I can’t be one of you again! But I can save you from being one of me. Shoot me now, please—and get out of here!”
I understand it now, more than ever before: the choice of life between being Untamed and being Enhanced. My mother sacrificed herself, becoming Enhanced to ensure that Corin and I remained Untamed. Even if I hadn’t already realized that actually living was preferable to being in an induced state of false security, then I definitely did now. My mother threw her life away to ensure I knew this. And it is obvious. We have to be raw humans—embracing the positives and the negatives—to really live, to really be ourselves, who we are, not who they want us to be. Someone has to fight for humanity if we’re to survive.
The only way to save ourselves is to be Untamed.
Corin pulls the trigger.
My mother screams.
I hear the soft thud as her body falls to the ground, almost in slow motion; hear her gasps and moans.
I can’t move. I should be running toward her… I should be…she’s my mother! But—
I shriek, blinded by tears. My legs turn to jelly; I start to fall, but Corin’s there, and—
“Get away from me.” I try to push him, but he’s too strong. I can barely stand. “You—you killed my mother… You’ve really killed her. You—you shot her.” I turn frantically, looking for the looming figure of Death. But I can’t see him—of course not! I’ve never seen him before when I’ve witnessed deaths. I turn on Corin again, anger fueling me. “We could’ve saved her! You saved me! Why didn’t you try? No! Don’t touch me!”
“I shot her in the thigh,” he says. “Not life-threatening.” He steps back suddenly, tucking his gun into the back of his waistband. I watch him do it, annoyed at his expertise. He’s a hunter. He’s killed my mother.
I shake my head, tasting bile and dirt against the back of my front teeth. I start to gag as Corin repeats his words over and over again. I look back at my mother. Her body stirs.
Corin clenches his fists together slowly, and I see the whiteness of his scarred knuckles. I start to move toward my mother, but then he’s stepping closer to me. His hands reach toward my face, then his thumbs are lightly tracing my jaw and his forefingers are on my temples. I freeze; the red-hot poker of anger is zapped away instantly. It’s replaced by a slowly growing ball of warmth, comfort that grows from the center of my chest. He flexes his fingers slowly, then he’s leaning closer
He trembles as our lips touch. My eyes are wide, but his are shut. His eyelids flutter as he kisses me deeply, holding my head in an embrace of security and…something more. I move my head to the right slightly, freeing my nose from his. I feel him pause, then he leans back a bit, looking down at me. His warm chocolate eyes have never looked softer.
“It will be okay,” he says, leaning his forehead against mine. He’s shaking. “It will be. It will.”
My heart pounds, and we stay like that for a few minutes. Then, I pull away from him. His hands drop to my arms.
“Corin, we… This is a battlefield. We shouldn’t be kissing here.”
Not to mention that my mother could gain consciousness at any point.
My mother.
But…she’s one of them. She said it herself, there’s no way she can be one of us again. I feel sick. She’s with the Enhanced. And she’s an Enhanced One so we can still be Untamed.
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“We need to go.” I swallow hard, feeling as if—just by saying the words—I’m condemning her to the Enhanced life, betraying her. But I’m a Seer too, and it feels horribly right to leave her. I know there’s no other way. More Enhanced Ones could come at any second.
“We might be the only ones left,” Corin says.
“We might be,” I echo. What else can I say? Disagreeing plants hope—false hope.
There’s a long pause, in which neither of us says anything. Then Corin’s hand tightens around my arm. He pulls me forward. For a second, I think he’s going to get my mother’s gun. But we run past her.
We run toward the spirits that were behind us. Beyond them the air is thinner, clearer, and I can see the oddly shaped tor. But it’s not a tor. I realize that now. It’s a temple. A spirit temple. A place of safety, if the spirits will allow us in there.
We run. There are no Enhanced following us. No one chases us at all. We’ve left the battle behind, just like that. We slow to a walk. He doesn’t let go of me, and I’m glad.
Corin looks at me. “So that soup the Marouska-imposter gave you before, it was poisoned: she’s been giving you augmenters along with that drink to hide the mirrors… She was trying to keep you addicted.”
I think of what Raleigh said earlier. And yes, it does make sense. Marouska said she wouldn’t tell anyone about the augmenter. Because she wanted to trick me into trusting her, when she was just using me. I’m close to tears.
“They want me on their side. I’m the Seventh One.” Corin doesn’t question me. “Raleigh’s a Seer too, a powerful one… He said they’d win with me and him… Marouska—the imposter—was trying to align me with the Enhanced, so the Untamed would be wiped out.” I sniff.
Corin nods like it all makes sense. “That rifle she had, it didn’t kill them. It stunned them. I’m certain of it now.”
I look up into his dark eyes and nod. That tattooed Enhanced man I’d seen, it had been the same man.
“Do you think they’re still alive?” I’m nearly crying as I mentally trace the lines of his face. “Esther? Or…or…?”
Or are we the last Untamed left in the world?
At last, Corin shrugs.
“We are alive,” he says. “So it’s possible. Anything is possible.” But his eyes are dark, and the depths are so deep, and they speak more about the inevitability of the situation than he does. “But at least we’ve got each other. And we’re not afraid of them anymore. We know it’s us against them. It always has been. They can’t hurt us any more. They’ve already stripped us back to the bare rawness that we are. They can’t damage us any more than they already have. We’re stronger for it.”
He holds me tightly. I rest my head against his chest—breathe in his musky scent, the faint shadows of cigarette smoke, and the rusty smell of blood along with my tears.
“We’ve got each other. We’ll always have each other. I mean it, Sev. I’m always going to be here, with you.”
There are a number of people I wish to thank for their help, support, and encouragement with my debut novel, Untamed. Without you all, I couldn’t have done it.
Firstly, to my parents, and my brother, Sam: you have been wonderful and given the best support and help I could’ve asked for. And thank you so much for answering my questions, no matter how many times I asked them, or how annoying I became. Thank you for believing in me.
I’d also like to thank the rest of my family and my friends. Your enthusiasm has been great and very uplifting!
Alison Heller Auerbach and Ela Summer: thank you so much for the many read-throughs, the detailed feedback, and plot critiques. Equally, E. L. Mitchell and Ava Jae, thanks for answering my many questions at such short notice, and I am grateful for all the advice you have given me. To my lovely beta-readers—Josie Noonan, Anna Harms, Tim Bedford, Emmy Kuipers, and Graeme Ing—your comments and suggestions were brilliant and greatly appreciated.
Now onto my excellent editor, Deelylah Mullin: I’m so glad I got to work with you. Thank you so much for all your ideas and your extraordinarily quick replies to my (many) emails. You’ve made the whole editing process a delight, and I’d love to work with you again.
Molly Phipps—my wonderful cover artist and interior designer! Thank you so much! You blew me away with the beautiful cover you made for Untamed, and your interior design is perfect. You captured my vision perfectly.
To Pintip Dunn, T.A. Maclagan, Dr. Jessie Voigts, Jen Knox, Sue Wyshynski, The Literature Hub, and The Story Sanctuary: from the bottom of my heart, thank you for blurbing Untamed and supporting me.
Thanks must also go to my writing groups, the YA Story Sisters, and all my other writer friends: thank you so much for all your support, advice, and help. I’m very lucky to know so many great people.
And finally, to everyone else who has offered me support, encouragement, feedback, and enthusiasm: thank you. I hope you enjoyed reading Untamed.
MADELINE DYER lives on a farm in the southwest of England, where she hangs out with her Shetland ponies and writes young adult books—sometimes, at the same time. She holds a BA Honors degree in English from the University of Exeter, and several presses have published her fiction. Madeline has a strong love for anything dystopian, ghostly, or paranormal, and she can frequently be found exploring wild places. At least one notebook is known to follow her wherever she goes.
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Find Madeline online:
Twitter: @MadelineDyerUK
Instagram: @MadelineDyerUK
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Website: www.MadelineDyer.co.uk
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After the terrible battle against the Enhanced Ones, Seven and Corin find themselves on the run. With the Enhanced closing in, Seven knows they need to find other people on their side. So, when the opportunity arises to join the Zharat, one of the last surviving Untamed tribes, it seems like the perfect solution.
* * *
But the Zharat lifestyle is a far cry from what Seven’s used to. With their customs dictating that she must marry into their tribe, and her relationship with Corin breaking down, Seven knows she has to do something before it’s too late. But that’s easier said than done in a tribe where going against the rules automatically results in death.
* * *
And, with the Enhanced still out there, nowhere is truly safe for the Untamed—least of all for the most powerful Seer in the world…and Seven soon discovers how far people will go to ensure she’s on their side in the War of Humanity.
* * *
Battling against the emerging web of lies, manipulation, and danger, Seven must remember who she was meant to be. Her life has never been more at stake. Nor has humanity itself.
Snakes and fires and angry Goddesses fill my dreams, and I wake to the feeling of feathers running along my shoulder blades. A spirit.
Get out. Leave us. Go.
The voice hovers around me, and I blink several times, half-imagine the words by my face, gaining substance, wrapping themselves in thick, outer shells. Wispy tendrils unfurl from each pod and reach out to me, strive to cling to my skin, but then something extracts the soft, singing bodies from their cages, pulls the words farther and farther away, until they’ve gone. Without their melodic centers, the armor disintegrates, and a moment later the lingering ethereal footprint of each husk disperses into dust, destroying all evidence that anyone—anything—ever spoke…until I’m certain no one did, and it was all my imagination.
I roll over—flaking mud from my clothes—careful not to disturb Corin’s sleeping body next to me. The air tastes strange, like it’s waiting for something, like it’s humming with a slow-burning zeal.
I sit up and look down at Corin. He’s a big man, broad-shouldered, tall, and he takes up most of the mattress we are sharing. His eyes are shut, his eyelids smooth, his expression peaceful as his chest rises and falls with
the temporal security. For several moments, all I can do is stare at him, drink in his appearance. He looks so relaxed, so peaceful; it’s almost possible to forget what has happened—all the blood, the losses, the deaths….
Yesterday comes back to me in flashes, and I inhale sharply, feel the air around me move. A glimpse of blood. A purple sky. A sharp knife. A gun, glinting in the light. A man with—
Something cold washes over me, pulls me from the broken echoes in my mind, and I sit up straighter, looking around. I shiver. The temple is cool, crisp, yet the air ripples. It starts off slowly—little, small movements—but then the momentum grows, and the atmosphere gets heavier, thicker, choppier.
The spirits move faster. I can’t see them—they’re invisible, because they’re weak now, after the battle—but I can sense them, feel them. A biting frostiness that scatters icy particles over my shoulders. A flurry of movement against my bare arm.
My mother’s Seer pendant around my neck feels heavier, bulkier than usual, but it’s a reassuring presence. As if it can protect us from everything.
For a few seconds, all I can see in front of me are rapid snatches of my mother; how she looked yesterday when the slight wind lifted stray tendrils of her dark hair away from her face. How she still had those small scars on the side of her neck. How reflective her eyes were.
How Corin shot her in the leg.
I swallow hard and look down at my own legs, stretched out in front of me. They’re covered in dirt, soft clay—like the rest of me. I look at Corin. We’re both daubed in sludge, blood, mud. The back of my neck prickles. We…we—we slept like this… We didn’t wash ourselves. I get a bad taste in my mouth, still can’t remember arriving at the spirit temple. But we slept here. I try to recall my dream, but the angry Goddesses are only impressions now—a chalky silhouette, the shape of a head, and a lone arm—impressions that slither away like the snakes I think were there. The dying impression of a flame lingers a little longer in my mind, before fading into unease.
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