by Amy Ewing
“I’m Violet,” I say. “What’s your name?”
“Where am I?” Her eyes narrow. “How did I get here? What do you want?”
“You’re in the Farm,” I say. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by her attitude. “I want to help you. And . . . I need your help, too.”
I wish I had planned out what I wanted to say better.
The lioness’s smirk looks all wrong, too much sarcasm on such a sunken face. “Right. So you kidnapped me? How did you even get here yourself? I thought you were locked up in the palace of the Lake.”
I ignore her questions. “You talked to me about power once,” I say. “At Dahlia’s funeral, you told me that we have more power than the royalty because we make their children.”
“I’m glad I made an impression,” she says.
“You have no idea the power we actually have.”
Air is the easiest element to connect with because it’s always present. I release myself into it, embracing the heady weightlessness that comes with joining this element. I push it out, circling the room, slow at first, but then faster until it feels like I’m flying. The lioness clutches the bedsheet to her chest.
I let go of the connection. The room settles. I feel exhilarated.
“What are you?” the lioness asks.
“I’m . . .” I’m not quite sure how to answer. “I’m like you. We’re the same.”
“Are you saying I can do what you just did?”
“Something like that. I hope.”
The lioness snorts. “You hope? What did you bring me here for?”
“Would you rather be back in the Jewel?” I say.
She hesitates. I can see pain in her eyes. I wonder what memory is playing behind them right now. “No,” she says.
“All right then.”
“So are you going to tell me why I’m here?”
“Like I said, I need your help. Overthrowing the royalty.”
The lioness’s dark eyes widen so that I can see the whites all around. “You’re serious.”
I feel that this moment is crucial. I need her to believe me, and yet I have nothing to convince her here except a circling of wind around a bedroom. How can I explain the truth about the Auguries, and the Paladin, and this island, about who we really are? I take a deep breath.
“There is so much I can show you and tell you. If you’re willing. But first, I’d like you to tell me your name.”
For half a second, I don’t think she’s going to answer me. Then she smiles.
“Sienna,” she says. “My name is Sienna.”
Twenty-Two
SIL IS MAKING DINNER WHEN I BRING SIENNA DOWNSTAIRS.
Raven sits in the rocking chair reading a book. They both look up at our approach.
“I remember you,” Sienna says, taking a step back. “The House of the Stone, right?”
“My name is Raven Stirling,” she says.
“Did she kidnap you, too?” Sienna asks.
“She saved my life,” Raven replies.
“They said you were dead. Put on a big show, funeral and everything.” Sienna looks Raven up and down. “You were pregnant, weren’t you?”
“Not anymore,” Raven says through clenched teeth.
Sienna smirks. “They do love their lies, don’t they?” She looks at me. “My mistress pretended to adore your Duchess but really she couldn’t stand her. Jealous. Talked about her all the time behind her back.”
The back door opens and Ash walks in. His face is smudged with dirt and he brings the faint scent of hay and manure.
“Soup smells good, Sil,” he says, then stops short when he sees Sienna.
Sienna yelps, taking a step back. “You’re—you’re the rapist.”
“They love their lies,” I say, echoing her words. “You said it yourself. This is Ash. He’s . . . my friend.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” he says with a polite nod. I can see him working hard not to seem offended.
Sienna looks back and forth between us. Then something clicks in her expression. “Oh,” she says slowly. “I see. What, did you two get caught together or something?”
I feel the heat of a blush in my cheeks.
“Yes,” Ash says, “we did.”
“They said you did terrible things to her,” Sienna says. “The Duchess says that’s why she can’t be seen in public. Lots of royals offered up their companions to be interrogated by Regimentals. Just to make sure there weren’t any more like you.”
A shadow of guilt passes over Ash’s face.
“The Countess of the Rose didn’t have a companion,” Sienna continues, “but she wanted one. Too bad she doesn’t have a daughter. She was so envious of the Duchess hiring you.” Sienna’s eyes travel over Ash’s arms and torso. “Apparently, you had quite a—”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Ash says in a hard tone, before stalking past us and up the stairs. A few seconds later, I hear the water turn on in the bathroom.
“He is very good-looking,” Sienna says, eyeing me.
“He’s more than that,” I snap. “And he’s not your concern.” I point to the dining-room table. “Sit down. There are some things to explain.”
Sil, who has been uncharacteristically silent for this whole exchange, brings over bowls of steaming black bean soup and sets them on the table without a word. The aroma of garlic and cooked vegetables is mouthwatering. She walks past Sienna and mutters to me, “I don’t like this one.”
The food has drawn Sienna to the table, and she digs in as Raven and I sit beside her. Raven shoots me a look that echoes Sil’s words. While Sienna eats, I explain as best I can about how surrogates die giving birth, how the Auguries have been twisted from something natural to something that serves the royalty, and how we can potentially use this force against them. I tell her that we have a chance to save all the surrogates in this city.
“Why should I care about other girls?” she says. “I’m here now. You got me to safety. Why should I risk that for people I don’t know?”
“Don’t go throwing that attitude around here, girl,” Sil says, from where she stands with her arms crossed in the kitchen. “And don’t pretend like there isn’t someone in that circle you care about.”
I think of the iced cake, the blond surrogate, who was clearly Sienna’s friend, bought by the Duchess of the Scales. Judging by the look on Sienna’s face, she is thinking of her, too.
“If what you say is true,” Sienna says, putting down her spoon, “she’s dead anyway.”
I swallow. The iced cake must be pregnant.
“Don’t you want to at least try to help her?” I say. “And what about all the other girls at your holding facility, the ones who haven’t been auctioned yet, who still have a chance?”
Sienna shifts in her chair. “You don’t know anything about my holding facility,” she mutters.
“It was Northgate, right?”
She looks up at me, surprised.
“Dahlia told me,” I say softly.
“Who?”
“She came with you on the train to the Auction,” I say, frowning. “She was Lot 200.”
“Oh.” Sienna shrugs. “I didn’t know her name. There are a lot of surrogates at Northgate. And she was only a kid.”
“That’s a lie.” Raven’s eyes go double-focused. The “whispers,” as she calls them, have grown fainter since she’s no longer pregnant, but Raven still hears things. “You were mean to her,” she says, her voice taking on a dreamlike quality. “She was so good at the Auguries, but she was younger than you. That isn’t fair. You were supposed to be the best. You were supposed to be Lot 200.”
Sienna jumps up from the table. Raven comes back to the present. “Don’t lie around me,” she says to Sienna. “And don’t waste your time worrying. It saved your life.”
“What did?” I ask.
“She can’t have children,” Raven says.
“How did you . . .” Sienna’s hand drops to her stomach.
Raven sh
rugs.
“It doesn’t make you any less of a person,” I say to Sienna.
“It makes me less of a surrogate,” she snaps.
“Sienna,” I say. “You’re not a surrogate anymore.”
Sienna sinks back onto her chair and stares morosely at her soup.
“All my life has been about one thing. How is it that I never had that power all along? It doesn’t make sense. It isn’t fair.”
I put my hand on her arm. I can feel the bones of her wrist poking out under her skin. “You’re capable of so much more. You’re part of something bigger than you could have imagined.”
“Come on,” Sil says, opening the back door. “Enough talk. It’s time to show you.”
I grab a blanket off the back of the couch, in case Sil is going to do what I think she is going to do.
“Be right back,” I say to Raven, who looks quite pleased to be rid of Sienna for the moment.
Sienna trails behind me and Sil warily as we walk toward the forest.
“Where are you taking me?” she calls.
Sil ignores her.
“Are you planning to do what you did to me?” I mutter. “Tie her up out here?”
“It worked for Azalea.”
“Yes, but . . . it took a long time, didn’t it? And we need her on our side, Sil, not thinking we’re the enemy.”
“Well, unless you want to try killing your best friend and having this new one revive her, I don’t see another option.”
She has a point. My experience with this power was so fraught with emotion, so heightened, it created an instant understanding, a sudden connection.
But I don’t know how to find it again.
As we pass under the first yawning branches of the trees, Sienna stops.
“Where are we going?” she demands.
Sil puts her hands on her hips and turns around. “You need to learn how to do what we can do. We’re going to teach you.”
I feel like Sil should reconsider her use of the word teach.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” I assure her, because Sil is looking like she’d very much like to club Sienna over the head before tying her up. “You don’t have to be afraid.”
I connect with Earth, and roots spring out of the ground, twining themselves around Sienna’s legs, up over her knees to the middle of her thighs.
“Get them off me!” she screams, but the roots are too strong. I know. I can feel them. Even as I release the connection, they hold Sienna where she is. “Are you two crazy?”
“Why’d you pick this one, anyway?” Sil grumbles, watching Sienna struggle, with a pitiless expression.
“She was Lot 199,” I say. “She’s strong.”
“She’s bullheaded.”
“So am I,” I say.
“No,” Sil says. “You’re different. You’re . . .” Her nose wrinkles like she’s smelled something bad. “Nice,” she finishes.
I have to laugh.
Sienna has calmed down and is holding on to one of the roots with a focused expression. I see what Sil meant when she snapped at me that first day, when I tried to use the Auguries. I recognize the look of concentration in Sienna’s eyes, and the wrongness that emanates from her makes me queasy.
“What, are you going to change their color?” Sil says with a chuckle. “You can make them purple or green or fuchsia but it won’t do any good. You’re stuck out here until we say so.”
Sienna glares at us. “You people are insane.”
“I’ve been called worse,” Sil says.
“Here,” I say, holding out the blanket. “Take this. You’ll need it.”
Sienna looks like she’d rather bite my hand than accept charity, but it’s cold, and survival wins out. She snatches it away from me and wraps it around herself.
“So what am I supposed to do out here exactly?” she asks.
“Listen,” Sil says. “I know it might be a first for you.”
“I’ll check on you later,” I say.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me here,” Sienna says.
“Rather be back in that comfy palace?” Sil says. “Remember—if you can’t bear children, they’d kill you anyway. Would you rather spend the night outside or end up with a knife in your back, or poison in your wine? Come on,” she says, tugging on my arm.
Sienna hugs the blanket tight around her and watches us walk away, her expression furious, her eyes glittering like onyx in the dark.
Twenty-Three
I CAN’T SLEEP THAT NIGHT.
There is a throbbing at the base of my skull, like an Augury headache, and I know it’s concern for Sienna.
Ash and I have taken to sleeping in the hayloft in the barn. Sil was right about being able to destroy things in my sleep—that first night I spent outside with Ash, he told me later that he could feel things moving in the earth under us. I told him he didn’t have to stay outside with me anymore, but he shrugged and smiled and said he didn’t mind.
I’m safe to sleep around now, but the house makes me claustrophobic. I like the barn—it’s airy and comfortable, and not so confining. The elements can breathe here. Plus, it feels like Ash and I have our own private space.
I stare at the slats in the wooden roof and can’t help thinking my plan won’t work.
There has to be a way to get Sienna to connect with the elements, without taking the time to break her down, or whatever Sil is expecting to happen. My toes twitch with worry, pulling against the soft wool blanket we sleep on.
“You all right?” Ash murmurs sleepily. I roll onto my side, and he slides his arm around my waist, pulling me back against his chest.
“I’m concerned about Sienna. I’m worried we don’t have enough time. What if Sil’s method doesn’t work? What if she hates us by the end of it? We need her as an ally. Plus, we still need two more girls, one for Eastgate and one for Westgate. And we’ll have to show them, too.” I pick a piece of hay off the blanket. “I don’t even know how we’re supposed to get to the holding facilities.”
“Violet, a few weeks ago I was locked in a dungeon set to be executed and you were going to be forced to bear a child that would ultimately kill you. I think we’re doing quite well, all things considered.”
“Aren’t you the optimist.”
Ash’s breath tickles my ear. “I try.”
I hear the familiar hint of frustration in his voice.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know you want to help.”
His arm tenses around me. “I do.” He rests his chin on my shoulder. “Listen, please don’t think I resent you or . . . it’s just . . . everyone around here has some special power. Everyone can do incredible things, except me.” He pauses, and when he speaks again he sounds embarrassed. “I hope this doesn’t come out wrong but . . . I’ve been serving women my whole life. I want to do something for myself. I want to be in charge of my own fate.”
I roll onto my back and gaze up at him. He’s right. It isn’t fair for Ash to go from one prison to another.
“I know things, you know,” he says. “About the royalty. I know how they think. I know some of their secrets. I know which palaces would be easiest to infiltrate, and which royals hate each other most, and which companions might be inclined to help.”
“You should talk to Lucien,” I suggest.
Ash lets out a hard laugh. “Lucien would never accept my help. Nor would he think he needs it.”
“But if you have information that can help the Society, he’ll have to listen,” I say.
“So far, all I’ve managed to do is become one of the Lone City’s most-wanted fugitives. I don’t see how that’s helpful.”
“We can’t always know what will eventually be helpful and what won’t,” I say. “Look at Raven. The Countess cut into her brain and accidentally gave her the extra sense that got us out of the sewers. She saved you in Landing’s Market. She helped me—” I sit up so fast my head spins. “She helped me understand the elements,” I gasp.
�
��Violet?” Ash asks. I’m staring ahead, not seeing anything, one hand clamped over my mouth.
What if I could go to that place again, the place where I saved her? I don’t know what it was exactly, but it was old and rich with the magic of this island—it created an instant connection with the elements. Is it a place where the Paladin once lived? Was the stone statue there something they built?
What if I could take Sienna there? Then she wouldn’t need to be tied up outside. She’d understand immediately. I’m sure of it.
“I have to talk to Raven,” I say, throwing off the blanket. Raven and I were in that place together. Maybe together, we can figure out a way to get back to it.
I climb down the ladder to the hayloft and out of the barn into the night.
As I cut across the clearing toward the White Rose, I see a figure sitting on the back porch.
“You’re awake,” Raven says as I join her. She is wrapped in a quilt and holds out one side of it. I sit next to her and drape the thick blanket around me.
“So are you,” I say.
“The Countess kept me in darkness for so long. Sometimes I’m afraid to close my eyes. Sometimes I have bad dreams.” She shivers and I lean into her. “So. Sienna. She’s . . . interesting.”
“She had such a high score,” I say. “And she seemed so fierce, a fighter, exactly what we need. But I guess I don’t know her at all.”
“She’ll come around,” Raven says.
“I hope so.”
“Once she understands who she is, she’ll have to.”
Raven finds the Paladin fascinating. She looks over Sil’s portfolio almost every day.
“You don’t use the elements, though.”
She half smiles. “I don’t know if I can. I’m scared to try. My mind is still . . . fragile. It’s not the same as it was before. What if I can’t control it? What if I hurt someone? What if it consumes me, or twists me even further from myself? It’s too risky.” She closes her eyes. “Sometimes, though, I go back there. To that place where you found me.”
My ears prick. “You do?”
“It has this . . . this pulse. It calls to me.” Raven opens her eyes. “It’s them, I think. Or the echo of them. I hear the whispers there sometimes. But I can never quite understand what they’re saying. I think they might feel bad for me. I think they might know that I’ve been hurt.” She rubs her temples. “I love seeing the ocean. On that map of the island Sil has, the one where all those red Xs are? I think those were some of the places the Paladin lived. I think that monument is something they built.”