by Tanya Ross
Her breath came in ragged gasps as she struggled to keep sprinting at high speed, each step more demanding than the last. She had never been much of an athlete, and echoes of her mother’s advice on keeping fit polluted her mind. A sense of failure gripped her. She put her hands to her head. Keep going. Keep going. She was going to win. To make it. She’d had enough of a head start. She’d find a place to hide and then contact Will—her Alt now more of a friend than foe.
Suddenly, a sense of déjà vu enveloped her. She had already been here, done this…Oh god. My dream! I’m in my dream. The books. The flight to escape. And, if she was right, there was more to come. The sweat on her forehead dripped its salty sting into her eyes. She ached in every joint. But she couldn’t give up. She urged herself to keep running, but it was as if she now struggled against some invisible force, pushing against her with dynamic strength. Her feet were leaden stumps. The harder she pushed, the less progress she made.
Still hearing the rapid, thudding footfalls of assailants, she glanced back. Several figures were narrowing the space between them. Shazz! SHAZZ!! She heaved desperate breaths.
Although she took her eyes off her path for a mere fractured second, a chunky, loose stone materialized out of nowhere in front of her. She dodged, but not in time. She stumbled, grabbing at the air, diving headlong toward the slick flagstone, where she lay flat on her stomach.
A rusty taste. Blood. She had bitten her tongue in the fall and split her upper lip. Her Alt blinked alternating screens of black and red, something she had never seen before. With dismay, she noticed a tiny crack in its upper left corner. Ugh! She pushed herself up on her elbows, scrambling to rise.
Ah! She was up! She shook out her limbs, stiff and scraped from the slide, and began to propel forward once again. But the remnants of the recurring nightmare flushed her brain. Her battered legs, thick with pain, kept her momentum to a lope, not a run.
Footfalls thundered behind her, growing closer and more insistent. The percussive rumble of pursuit accelerated like the “M” train at high speed. She knew her aggressors were close; to her horror, their auras engulfed her, penetrating her mind and spirit. RUN!
Powerful hands grabbed her by the arms. She jerked and tried to pull away, her remaining strength targeted toward a final, desperate escape. Her vision blurred. She saw pure red until she was able to focus. A Sciolist. She was in the control of a Sciolist, his lean physique, an athlete’s build. He was barely out of breath, while she was still heaving.
A clomping of more feet approached. The rest of the troops, she concluded. From the noise and the abundance of emotions seeping through the air, there had to be a mob of them. Her eyes closed in weariness. Never had she wished for her mother’s love or Will’s strength quite so much.
“You thought you’d escape, Ember?” The Magistrate’s voice penetrated like a blade. “Impossible. Where do you think you could go where we wouldn’t find you?”
He approached and turned her around to face him. “You—!” she cried. She knew then that her dreams were true premonitions. The Magistrate was her assailant. It had always been his face in her dreams.
Two Sciolist flanked his sides. Four people. But it was enough to shatter her hopes of an escape. Her arms tucked into the vise-like grips of the Sciolists, they walked back to City Hall, their footsteps the only sound in the silence.
41
Ember’s Debut
The Magistrate insisted he return her to her quarters, his arm possessively tight around her shoulders. They walked down a dimly lit hallway where the overhead vents sent out a chilly blast. She trembled, but not merely from the crisp air. Anger ebbed from Serpio like liquid. She felt its sting as it wrapped itself around her. His voice was tight, his words clipped. “Ember, understand. You’re not a prisoner, but you are mine. Don’t ever forget.”
“Yours?” Ember looked into his eyes, and a shiver went up her spine. She didn’t want to hear any more, didn’t want him to reveal what was in his mind. She could already see the color surrounding him, true colors that revealed the danger she was in.
He drew closer and whispered in her ear. “Your life here is an honor. And we’ll be together. Nothing will separate us anymore. Not space. Not events. And not Will Verus.”
At the sound of Will’s name, Ember felt a deep ache in her chest. “You can’t cut me off from everything I love!” Ember’s tone was like a whip. Sadness at her powerless situation overwhelmed her. She jerked away, Serpio’s arm dropping from her shoulder like a lead weight.
“If you don’t think you can be happy here, I’ll have to do some…unpleasant things.” The Magistrate grabbed her wrist and yanked her further down the hall to the door of her room.
She cried out and lowered her head. Totally helpless. And no one could save her. A fragment of her nightmare flashed through her mind. She’d seen who chased her. But there was blood in the dream, too. Was the blood the Magistrate’s? Or would it be her own?
Serpio released his grip. His words became contrite, silky. “We’ll put this behind us and work, instead, on your happiness. You can and will be happy.”
Ember shook her head up and down, tears glittering in her eyes. She blinked them away, set on keeping her emotions to herself.
“Now, dear Ember. You need medical attention for that cut.” He reached out and touched her mouth. “Those beautiful lips need care. I can send a medic to you.”
Ugh. She forcefully shook her head. “No! No…I’ll just take a hot bath. I’m not bleeding anymore.” She touched her lip gently, and her fingertip glistened with blood. Ember winced at the lie, but the last thing she wanted was to see more people. It was already after midnight.
“Very well. You’ll have a servant coming to assist you in the morning anyway. Sweet dreams, Ember.” The Magistrate patted her on the shoulder, pushing her gently into her room before turning away. He strode down the hallway, twisting once to make sure the door had actually shut. She made a point of waiting to see him disappear around the corner before allowing the door to hiss its way closed.
Weariness settled over her. Her shoulders sagged. Her eyes bulged, strained and bloodshot, but she wouldn’t allow herself to rest. A new determination fueled her. If she was ever going to get out of here, she had work to do. She reached into her pants and grinned. The book she stole earlier hadn’t been discovered.There was something to be said for tight lingerie.
She ran a bath like she had promised, taking the book with her into the tub. Her cuts and bruises seem to sigh with relief in the hot water. She tenderly held the book in her hands above the water, taking care not to get it wet, and began to read. With each page she read, her eyes widened. The leather-bound volume was a diary. She was inside Serpio’s mind, each entry more disturbing than the last. Although her bath water was warm, she shivered, goosebumps marching across her arms. Her mother’s name suddenly jumped out at her from the page, and every muscle in her body seized up, like a vise. No…! Her mother was romantically involved with the Magistrate? And then her own name; she’d been under the microscope all along! Before she’d been examined at Solace! She threw the book over the side of the tub as if it were on fire.
Closing her eyes, she tried to calm her fluttering heart. But as awful as it all was, this was the information she and Will needed to take the Magistrate down. And only Will could help her. She must get this to Will at all costs.
After her dream-like, terrifying night of little sleep, an assigned personal servant awakened her early. The sun was not yet up.
“Good morning, Ember. My name is Padgett. I’ll be helping you bathe and dress this morning.” The maid’s face, round and bright, reminded Ember of a full moon. Her eyes were a watery blue and deep set. Kind of like little pools, Ember thought with some amusement. Ember’s eyes took in her stiff, pressed uniform, a tangerine orange. Pretty high Status for a servant. But this was the Magistrate’s home, after all.
Ember thought about resisting. But she was weary, and her spirit was woun
ded. Better to just suck it up. She had to get dressed, after all.
“I don’t need a shower, Padgett. I…I had one late last night.”
To Ember’s relief, Padgett smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that. I can’t wait to see you put on your outfit for today.” The clothes were laid out on the bed. She giggled, and then held up pieces of Ember’s clothing ensemble, one piece at a time. “Bodysuit…skirt…” She laid them back on the bed. “Shoes.” She picked each up, one at a time, admiring them. “And…your cloak.”
“Great…” Ember said, with untypical sarcasm. “I need to slip into the bathroom...”
Remembering the book, Ember knew she couldn’t trust leaving it where it was. She’d no real good place to hide it; in a good search it would be easily found. She’d need to keep it with her.
“Sure. Let me know if I can do anything to help.”
Once she’d closed the door on Padgett, she pressed a button under the sink, triggering the cabinet door underneath to open. She pulled the journal from the interior back wall where she’d tried to hide it behind some cleaning supplies. Again, she placed it in her underwear, this time in the back.
Ember cracked the bathroom door. “Padgett? Can you pass the bodysuit to me? I’d rather put it on in here.”
“No need to be shy, but okay. If it makes you happy.” After some rustling in the bedroom, the bodysuit snaked its way through the crack in the door.
“Thanks…really appreciate it.” Ember donned the bodysuit, taking care to smooth it over her torso like a second skin. The book made a flat lump across the small of her back, but she would have to take a chance it wouldn’t be detected under all her outer garments. She came back into the bedroom, feeling triumphant, ready for the rest of her outfit.
Minutes later, Ember looked at her image in the mirror. She’d never worn anything like this before. Her floor-length flowing skirt had two layers. The underskirt was a rich, deep platinum metallic covered by a translucent layer of shimmering pearl organza that opened all the way to her waist and parted, completely showing off her legs. Underneath, a metallic body suit tightly hugged every curve, sparkling in the morning light, to melt into short boots of gold. The top of the suit was sleeveless, designed to be more comfortable under the cloak she would be wearing over the top. A wide belt made of diamonds accented her waist, its buckle resembling an open butterfly. The cloak of many colors went on top.
After she was dressed, her female assistant removed Ember’s Alt. “Oh dear. You have a deep crack in your Alt. What happened?” Her eyes showed her surprise and concern.
Ember shook her head and looked down at the floor. She wasn’t going to explain anything.
Padgett placed the Alt in a metal box she had brought with her. “I’ll be taking care of this…I know it’s devastating to give it up, but what the Magistrate wishes, he gets.”
“Sure—okay.” Get rid of it.
A few moments later, a quick knock on the door announced the Magistrate. He personally ushered her to the limousine. “On our way to the Plauditorium,” the Magistrate said. “It’s early, but I want to get you on this morning’s city-wide broadcast.”
At least I’m going where Will may be. Oh…Will. She needed to get him to share her discovery. And she was feeling his absence like a withdrawal. She was dying to see him. Grabbing an opportunity would be difficult, but she would find a way. The Magistrate patted her knee. Her stomach turned over. Ugh.
The Plauditorium, as usual, was pulsing with life, despite the ungodly hour. But the hum of the monitors was strangely soothing, and Ember allowed the collective positive emotions of the room saturate her. Plauditors were always cheerful.
The Plauditors instantly acknowledged the Magistrate the moment he walked in, although she was the recipient of some gaping, curious stares. But the Plauditors quickly turned back to their screens. No one wanted to be slacking off. Points could be instantly lost. Ember immediately saw Will at his station, but just as she thought, there was no opportunity to even make eye contact. Nor would he probably want to, she thought miserably.
Near the door, an older gentleman greeted them—a Level Seventeen, Ember realized with awe. She suppressed a giggle so she wouldn’t be rude. He was shorter than she was.
“Tedman Adoravi, at your service,” the man said as he gave the Tranquility salute to Ember and the Magistrate. “So. This is your special visitor today. We’re ready to do whatever you need.”
The Magistrate returned his salute. Putting his arm possessively around Ember, he said, “I have a very special announcement to make today. My visitor will be coming with me into the broadcast space. She’ll be on the broadcast.”
Tedman nodded enthusiastically, and just like that, whisked them into the communications room, adjacent to the surveillance room, to record the broadcast. In addition to Tedman, there was a crew of five at their posts. They all stopped to acknowledge the Magistrate with awestruck faces, showering him with the proper arm greeting. But she could tell they didn’t know what to make of her. They would know better than to give her their attention unless the Magistrate dictated it. One of the news producers who sported a purple suit and tie was the first to speak.
“How are you today, Magistrate? You’re looking quite distinguished and powerful today, Sir. Can I get you something special this morning?”
“No, thanks, James. We plan to get right to work. Listen, this will be a significant broadcast. All of you will witness history in the making today. You’ll want to make everything even more perfect and jubilant than usual, as we are introducing Ember here, a girl who outshines the best of us.”
The broadcasters murmured in excitement, taking on the characteristics of a coyote pack discovering its prey. Now they had an invitation to assess her. Most days they must dream of something dramatic to share, and it’s a rare thing. So, today, it is me. Shazz.
The crew busied themselves with their equipment. The Level Fourteen purple guy attached tiny, round clear jewels to their clothing with a magnetic click. Lights on the opposite wall blinked green.
Ember listened to a Level Fifteen woman announce, “Sound on. We’re set to go. And, three, two, one…”
The Magistrate stood next to her. She cringed as he put his arm around her and coaxed her to look directly into the camera.
“Citizens of Tranquility. Today we have a very special person to introduce to you—Ember Vinata, a real Queen of Hearts. As fortune would have it, we have discovered Ember’s secret talent. Yes—a talent she has kept hidden. She has risen above what an ordinary citizen can do with emotional control. She is an Empath who feels the emotions of people around her.”
He paused to gaze at her admiringly, his black eyes shining like polished beads. With his right hand, he touched the top of her head; then his hand traveled down the length of it, caressing her hair. Withdrawing his hand, he splayed out his palm as if beckoning his listeners. “Empaths have the ability to sense others on many different levels. From observing what another person is saying, feeling, and thinking, they totally understand that person. Empaths can read body language and energy like no one else, and do not tolerate lies and deception. Please grant her the respect you would give any of the Elite class. With her skills and empathy, she’ll be of great assistance to me and to the Elite. I’m excited about the possibilities this will bring to our community. Thank you—and have a spectacular day.”
The Magistrate and Ember stepped aside, as the camera switched to the main anchor for the day. He continued the broadcast, but now the Tranquility News became the focus. As Ember wondered what was going to happen to her next, she vaguely heard the commentator announcement, “A stunning performance of Tranquility’s Town Players will take place tomorrow at the Paradiso Amphitheater. Tickets are available first to those of higher Status…” The words seemed so trivial, so stupid. Entertainment happening like nothing was wrong. When the world was completely upside down.
The screen dimmed, while a male voice said, “That’s a wrap.�
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The Magistrate turned to Ember. “You’ll be such an inspiration to the citizens. A help to them, perhaps. But a weapon against negativity as well. To develop your talents, we’ll work closely together.”
Ember managed to squeak, “You’re my…teacher?”
The Magistrate smiled at her apparent wariness. “Yes, but not just me.” He put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a pat he meant to be reassuring. “Elite will be involved. Our counselor, Winslow. Some staff at Solace. Maybe others.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“How about Plauditors?” she asked, hope in every syllable.
Serpio pressed his lips together and sighed in exasperation. “Dear Ember. We won’t need them. They’re agents of a different kind.”
Ember’s throat tightened, catching an unwise response on the tip of her tongue. I’m trying hard to get to you, Will.
“In the meantime, you’ll assess all the servants first, just for fun. Can’t wait to see how you ‘read’ everyone’s emotions. It’ll be kind of like a game, for now. Some entertainment.” He put his hand on her arm, propelling her forward toward the door. “Let’s get back to your new home— our home—where we can begin.”
She lowered her face as if to watch her step, gathering her skirt and cloak around her. Without her Alt, if she managed her facial expressions, she could keep her emotions hidden. Serpio might use her to determine the emotions of others, but she refused to allow him to see her own. She straightened her spine. Everything now lay on her shoulders. And she could not let down her guard.