by Lan Chan
“You know,” she says, “no one is going to notice what shoes you’re wearing under that train. You should put on some boots or something.”
It’s distressing, but I think I like her. I waste no time in kicking off the five-inch heels that came with the dress and replacing them with a sensible pair of wedged ankle boots. My relief is palpable, and Stacey laughs at my delighted sigh as she leaves.
True to Harlan’s word, a car is waiting for me outside the hotel at six. What must the staff and other guests think of me, this girl who comes in all bruised and bandaged and leaves all dolled up?
I step through the hotel’s rotating door. A chill settles on my bare shoulders and I hug myself for warmth. The back passenger door opens, and I steel myself for an awkward ride with Harlan. But it’s not Harlan who stands beside the now open car door, wearing a criminally well-fitted black tuxedo. It’s Aiden.
He stretches out a hand as if beckoning me inside—or is it into his arms? It’s impossible to tell, and I’m not keen to take either option. His mood is unreadable as I ignore his gesture and get into the car on my own. I’m not sure when it happened, but I’ve turned into one of those people that is constantly picking at the cuticle of their nails. I do that now as the car takes us to our destination. The most interaction I’ve had in the past six years is with Micah. I’m afraid I’ve lost the ability to censor myself, which will be disastrous in a group setting. Especially an elite Seeder group setting. Where is Harlan going to take us tonight? I suppose I could ask Aiden, but that would entail talking to him, which is out of the question.
I raise my thumb to my mouth and graduate from picking skin to biting my nails. I clench my fist as Aiden sets his hand over mine.
“Do you plan on eating your entire finger, or just that particular nail?” he says. I know that tone. He uses it on cornered animals he’s trying to convince to trust him. I shake him off and continue to chew.
His brows knit together and he pinches the bridge of his nose. I wince as my teeth snag on tender skin not protected by calluses. Aiden snatches my hand away, and this time he’s not letting go.
“Stop being so stubborn for five minutes,” he snaps. Then he lifts my hand up and waves it in front of my face. “You’re bleeding. Can you see that?” A speck of crimson is welling on the base of the cuticle on my thumb. What’s one more drop of blood when I’ve spilled so much already?
Aiden’s skin is hot against mine. My eyes trace the outline of a healed shallow cut on his forefinger. I remember the day he got that scar. How little it bled when he stepped in front of me and the ringmaster’s whip bit into his skin. How much he pretended to be hurt to get sympathy from Gideon. I think of how reliant I became on him always being there to shield me from the worst of the other Seeders’ wrath, and I’m ashamed of my own weakness.
“Let go of me.” He does so immediately. Is that anger I see flit across his eyes? Frustration? Indignation? It’s not my role to care anymore. Let Skylar do that.
I fiddle with the hem of my skirt and use it to distract myself.
The car comes to a stop beside the dome of the Forgotten Garden. I step out onto the curb and find myself pressing my hands against the dome itself. I expect to feel cold glass, but the sensation is peculiar. I swear my hand feels damp when I pull it away, almost as though the dome is permeable. It’s not made from any material I’ve ever come across.
“Spectacular, isn’t it?” I hear Harlan say. I turn and he’s suddenly behind me. My head comes up to his shoulder and there is a Wind Dancer rose fastened to his lapel. The sweet scent mixes with his spicy aftershave and makes me sneeze. Already, I want to be as far away from him as possible. Unfortunately, Harlan has other plans. He links an arm around mine. “Come, pet, let me introduce you to some of my friends.”
Harlan has friends the same way he has collectables, and I think I’m his newest acquisition. He takes me through the security doors of the Forgotten Garden, where we have to pass through an organic materials detector before we’re allowed in. We walk for nearly ten minutes on a neat brick path past lawns and beds of heritage flowers. The garden is lit by traditional electric lights along the paths, and fairy lights twinkle in the trees. Everything has been arranged to mimic the natural environment of eras past, and there isn’t a luminous flower in sight.
The smells inside the dome seem muted compared to the vibrancy of the Citadel, but they’re clean and freshening, and somehow a part of me aches for a world that no longer exists. How could the people before the Famine not see what they had until it was too late? How could they let it come to this?
With each passing step, I am more grateful to Stacy for suggesting the change of shoes. As we walk and Harlan talks, it dawns on me that in his own sick way, Harlan is trying to show off. He never ceases to amaze me. What is Aiden, who walks a little behind us, thinking? Surely even he appreciates the absurdity of this?
To break the silence I wrack my brain for something to talk about. That’s when I remember Gloria’s suggestion.
“I heard a rumour,” I say, “that as the winner of the circus game, I’m entitled to some kind of reward.”
Harlan grants me one of his beaming smiles. It’s like he’s delighted I’ve come around to his kind of thinking.
“And what it is you want, pet?”
I pretend to think for a while. I look around vacantly as though I’ve only said what’s on my mind without properly considering it. “How do they get all the way up to the top of the dome to prune the trees?” I say. I get up on my tiptoes in an exaggerated attempt to touch the ceiling. My acting must be getting markedly better, because Harlan guffaws and turns back to signal something to Aiden.
“A deal’s a deal, I guess,” Harlan says. “You were marvellous, pet, and you deserve your reward. After dinner, Captain Forrester and Dr. Bagrov will show you how the canopy is pruned.”
“Dr. Bagrov is probably in bed,” Aiden mutters.
“Isn’t that too bad for him?” Harlan slaps his knee like he’s only just realised his own cleverness. I know he’s thinking of the other day when the doctor threw him out of the lab. I can imagine this is only part of the payback he’s going to dish out. It would be sad if it weren’t so unnerving.
Finally, the glittering glow of a marquee comes into sight, and I let out a resigned sigh. Harlan mistakes this for awe, and he preens like a proud bird. When we get closer and I make out distinct faces amongst the crowd of people seated at a lavishly set table under the marquee, my apprehension comes back. I don’t know these people per se, but I know of them. They’re the sons and daughters of the respective Wardens.
Harlan introduces me using names I probably won’t remember. They are all somewhat familiar, except for a dark-skinned girl with a ring piercing through her nose and coloured beads woven through a single braid down the right side of her face.
“This is Acacia,” Harlan introduces her. “Her father is Alexis Stirling. You might recognise her handiwork. She’s the one who designed the metal arena you performed so well on.”
“Call me Ace,” Acacia says. She shakes my hand, which at this point is as limp as a noodle. I’m sure she can feel the burning hatred though our contact, and that’s why she lets go as though I’ve scalded her.
“Lovely to meet you,” I lie. The butler announces dinner is served, and Harlan seats me next to him at the head of the table. I go into a daze as a dozen or so faces make polite conversation, often looking up at me before speaking again.
Several waiters appear, and they do two rounds of the table, setting plates down, before I realise one of them is Gage. I meet his eyes as he sets a bowl of steaming green soup in front of me. Everything I’ve wanted to tell him over the past few days gets stuck in my throat and escapes as a cough. His fingers graze mine briefly as he lifts my soup spoon and offers it to me in place of the fork I’m holding. By now he knows my dining weapon of choice. Even in a simple white shirt and waistcoat, he is more handsome than any of the other males at the tabl
e, with the possible exception of Aiden.
His shirtsleeve is fastened with round cufflinks, and I think it’s odd compared to the other waiters who have their sleeves rolled up. An ugly idea grows in my thoughts. What have the Seeders been doing to him since I last saw him? Harlan clears his throat and Gage backs away, but not before throwing me a sneaky half smile. Does he know about the Landing? How can he and still be so nice to me? I hold on to the hope that he doesn’t blame me for my choice, as I will the tears building up in my ducts to go away.
“Do they make them all like that in Harlan’s Landing?” a baby-faced girl turns to me and asks. She’s sitting two seats away, and when she swings her head to watch Gage walk away, her tight maroon curls bounce around. She reminds me of a doll I once tore the head off to see what was inside.
“What do you mean?” I say. My neck suddenly feels very hot. She’s ignoring me now and addressing Harlan to my right.
“Do you mind if I borrow him for a few nights?” She winks at Harlan and they share a conspiratorial laugh.
Red flashes dart across my vision. I’m leaping over the table before her lips even close. I reach for a fork and slam the tines through the back of her hand. The girl’s face registers the shock, and it takes a moment for the pain to follow. Then she starts to howl, and when she does, I twist the fork so it digs in farther. I feel the crunch of the metal as it makes contact with the wooden table, and a flood of pure pleasure radiates through me.
“Go ahead,” I whisper into Babyface’s ear. “I dare you to touch him.”
Twenty-Nine
A powerful arm locks around my throat and I’m hauled off the table. Remnants of soup and other entrees cling to the tail of my dress. A sea of horrified faces look back at me as the guard holding me back mashes me to the ground. Only Aiden has his hands clasped together under his chin and is contemplating the whole scene with mild curiosity.
Babyface is crying hysterically, and tears run down my eyes out of sheer frustration. How can I have lost my temper again? But when I think of Gage and the horrible things he’s probably had to endure, I’m glad I’ve caused some pain in return. For whatever brief period I’ll get to live now, I’m glad I’ve fought back a little.
“Shoot her,” Babyface orders the guard.
The barrel of a gun is shoved against the back of my neck. I clench my teeth in anticipation of death.
“Let go of her!” Harlan orders. “For goodness sake, Rosie, get a hold of yourself! It’s just your hand.”
I’m released instantly, and when I turn, I see it’s Vargas who has restrained me. Harlan’s hands are gentle as he pulls me upright, yet everywhere his skin touches mine, I feel violated. What I wouldn’t give to clasp my fingers around his twiggy neck and squeeze until his head pops off.
A wry smile plays on Harlan’s lips. I get the feeling he’s laughing inside, because he tweaks my nose playfully. I begin to wonder which of us is crazier these days.
“Silly me,” Harlan says. “I should have known better than to place a vixen in a sheep’s pen. Why don’t I get the staff to take you home?” He thinks for a second. “Or better yet, why doesn’t Captain Forrester take you on that tour?”
That’s the last thing I want to do right now, but I can’t find my voice within the dark hatred that swirls around my thoughts. Gloria, that bitch! She planted this ridiculous idea in my head about seeing some stupid Citadel sight when I could have asked for Gage’s pardon as my reward for winning in the stadium. I can’t believe how stupid I am. I add her to the ever-growing list of Seeders I’m going to take down sooner rather than later.
“Captain, page the doctor. I don’t care if he’s sleeping.” Harlan’s expression turns feral as he addresses Aiden, who has come up beside me. “I’m putting you in charge of her safety. If she goes up in the balloon, you go up too. Understand?”
It’s so odd to witness Aiden taking orders from anyone, let alone this stick of a man. Aiden could probably knock him senseless with a flick of his finger, yet he just gives Harlan a curt nod of submission. I take a step back as Aiden reaches for my elbow because there is a ferocity looming in the depths of his eyes that threatens to destroy everything within his vicinity.
A tiny red light blinks at the base of his neck. I think of the sabrewolf pilot who shot me. How haven’t I noticed the implant before?
“Come,” Aiden says when it’s clear I don’t want any assistance walking. He takes long, angry strides and all too soon I’m lagging behind. Where the train of my dress has soaked up soup, it sticks to my legs and makes it cumbersome to walk. The brisk pace and cold patch of material makes me shiver. Aiden takes no notice and continues to semi-jog across the lawn, making towards a nondescript building not far away.
He tugs at the bowtie around his neck and throws it on the grass. His cufflinks go next. He unbuttons his tuxedo jacket and is about to launch it aside when he turns and waits for me to catch up.
By this stage, I can feel my ears aching from the cold. “You’re going to try and catch pneumonia just to annoy me, aren’t you?” he says.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I say. My jaw will barely move without clicking. “Besides, what doesn’t annoy you these days?” I mean it as a dig, but part of me really wants to know the answer. What happened to the cheeky boy I once knew?
Aiden’s jaw clenches, but then he drapes his jacket around my shoulders and kneels down in front of me.
“What are you doing?” I say, alarmed.
He takes a wad of the train in his hands.
“You’re going to break your neck in this thing,” he says. Before I can stop him, he tears a great big gaping hole in the dress around my calf. My fist slams down on his shoulder and dull pain shoots up my arm. Aiden barely notices I’ve hit him.
“Stop it! Do you have any idea how expensive this dress is?” It’s too late, though. He’s torn a section of the train clean off so now the dress only reaches my ankles.
“Nice shoes,” he says. He’s actually grinning when he gets up. “Come off it, Rory. Save that sour face for Harlan. Where we’re going, if you lose your balance, you’re dead.”
I treat him to my most condescending smile. “It’ll take a dozen dresses before I’d lose my balance. Besides, if we’re going up into the canopy, you should be more worried about yourself.”
A vein on his brow twitches and he starts rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. If Harlan hadn’t mandated my safety against Aiden’s own life, I would turn and run. I know it’s risky to take a stab at his terror of heights, but I can’t help myself. It’s clear we’re not friends anymore, so why should I hold back?
“Don’t you look at me like that, Aiden Forrester. It’s your own fault for letting Harlan know what you’re afraid of.” I put a theory I’ve been cooking up to the test. “Maybe if you hadn’t been dallying with his precious Skylark, he wouldn’t have it in for you now.”
I pull his jacket closer around me because the look he throws me is colder than the wind. “Stop mouthing off about things you have no clue about,” he says.
“Stop mouthing off about things you have no clue about,” I mimic in a high-pitched voice. He used to do that to aggravate me when we were kids. I see now it has the same effect when the roles are reversed.
“I hope Skylar recovers by the next performance so I can beat her all over again.” That comes out way more petulant than I’d thought, and a sneaking hint of jealousy in my voice catches me off guard. I am not jealous of Skylar. There’s nothing to be jealous of.
I expect Aiden’s temper to spike, for him to lash out at me verbally, but all he does is smirk like he’s figured out something I haven’t.
Before I can get an explanation from him, a headlight beams on us and a giant figure rides up the stone path on what I can only describe as a scooter. It’s almost funny to watch and almost impossible to comprehend how the scooter stays upright with Yuri’s weight on it. It’s not until he comes to a complete stop that I realise there’s a passenger behi
nd him.
“That’s the last time I’m doing that,” the girl Acacia says. “Feels like I’m going to die every time!” She peels herself from Yuri’s back and stomps on the grass a dozen times to get the feeling back into her legs. Why is she here? Is this some kind of trick?
Yuri notices my reticence. “You haven’t told her anything, have you?” he asks Aiden. There’s that strange lilt in his speech again. I make a note to ask him where he’s from at a more opportune time.
“How could I have said anything when she won’t shut up for five minutes?” Aiden says. Acacia glances between Aiden and me.
“Funny,” she says. “She doesn’t strike me as the chatty type.”
I’m trying to decipher if what she’s said is some kind of insult, when she giggles and slaps me really hard on the back.
“Only joking!” she says. “Nice work back there, by the way. Thanks for getting us out of that hideous party!” Then she grabs me by the shoulder and turns all serious. “Next time, try and go for a vital organ. It saves all the screaming and crying afterwards.” I can’t tell if she’s being serious or not.
“Enough,” Yuri says. “I didn’t get out of bed to listen to little girls clucking. Fire up the balloon, Acacia.”
“I keep telling you to call me Ace!” Acacia says. She leads us farther along the path. Aiden walks beside her and I bring up the rear with Yuri. I hate to admit it, but without the train, walking is much easier.
“You’re a fast learner,” Yuri says to me. “Good job making yourself indispensable. I will admit I didn’t believe Aiden when he said you would be better at the acrobatics than Skylar, but I was wrong.”
I try not to act surprised at his revelation. “It’s a bit mean of Aiden to bet against his own girlfriend,” I say. Acacia stifles a giggle, but Aiden doesn’t respond, though I notice the red light in his neck blinking again.
“Aiden and Skylar?” Yuri ponders and then shakes his head. “That’s a scary thought.” So Aiden and Skylar aren’t together? What about the display in the stadium? There’s no more time for questions as we approach the building I saw earlier. Up close, it’s much bigger than I had thought, but what catches my attention is a bulbous, dark shape attached to the building that I can’t make out without better lighting.