by Claire Vale
Alderman Keelan waits a beat for more hands, but that’s pretty much the extent of our concerns. Will we be absolved and, if so, can we clean the whole slate with one confessional swipe.
“We ask for only one,” he informs us. “You may confess all if you’re unsure how to assess and we’ll determine the worst transgression on your behalf.”
He rests his arms on the lectern, clasps his hands, studying the roomful of potential sinners. “You are adults now, and will be punished as ascribed by the law in any other circumstances, and by that you will also be absolved of the crime for which you’ve paid and learnt from.”
It takes us all a long moment of absolute stillness to process what he’s actually saying. If I’ve got it right, it isn’t good. We’re supposed to confess to our worst deed and we will receive the maximum punishment by Alder law.
Why would I possibly do that?
To be a better person?
To be a responsible adult?
Even as my brain rebels, one sin pops up as my worst and won’t go away.
June and her asthma secret.
It’s not a transgression against Alder law, I don’t think. If there is a law that states we must broadcast our illnesses in public, I’m not aware of it.
But aiding and abetting her secret feels like a transgression against the human code, maybe against society. If anything happens to her, if she gets seriously sick doing something because she’s too scared to admit her frailty, I will bear some of that responsibility. Because I knew and didn’t do anything about it.
I gnaw on my lip as I battle with my conscience, as I look to Kane, hoping for insight into what he thinks about this exercise. His gaze is downturned, his focus on some point on the floorboards and he doesn’t give me anything. His mouth is a grim line, but that also doesn’t tell me much. He’s not exactly a happy, smiley person on the best of days.
“There will be no talking amongst yourselves,” Alderman Keelan says. “No conferring with each other. This is a time for silent reflection, please, take all the time you need. When you’re done, make your way to the front and take a seat.”
He waves a hand across the bottom row of chairs and that’s his last words to us before he returns to his own seat.
Georga stands and makes her way down. Why does that not surprise me? She’s bold and fearless and generally doesn’t give a damn. She doesn’t need a minute to second-guess the consequences.
My gut twists and I just want to shut my mind down, but I can’t. And I can’t say anything about June, it’s not my secret to tell and I would never break her trust—that’s a whole other transgression against the human code. I do need to talk to her, though. She can keep her secret, but only for so long as it doesn’t endanger her health. If it ever comes to that, she has to say something. Somehow I need to make her understand.
Jacob Darnley joins Georga in the hot seats. I can’t imagine what he has to confess. Then again, look at me. I’ve always considered myself squeaky clean, yet lately I’ve been racking up the dirt.
Gabe hasn’t let go of my hand and I turn into his comforting warmth. He looks at me, smiles a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s thinking about his sins, which mostly happen to be mine.
“Hey,” I whisper, “you’re not going to confess about us and…” my voice drops further, below a whisper, “you know, the premarital sex?”
“What would they do?” he says quietly. “Force us to get married as punishment?”
My heartbeat stutters. “Is that how you feel? That you’re being forced to marry me?”
“No, of course not, that’s not the point.” He gives my hand another squeeze. “Anyway, the answer’s no, I’m won’t tell. What happens between you and me is private. Okay?”
“Okay,” I say, not happy to leave it there. Something feels off, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. I start to shift into my own seat when another horror occurs to me. I lean in again. “You’re not going to say anything about climbing the wall, are you?”
He hesitates, just long enough to worry me. “I’m not going to implicate you in anything, Senna.”
“Is that what you think? That I’m only worried about myself?” If we were anywhere else right now, I might slap him. “You can’t say anything, Gabe. The wall is, I don’t know, treason?”
A throat clears loudly, pulling our eyes to the front.
Alderman Brisken is looking right at me, his mouth turned down in a severe line.
Crap.
Gabe nudges me firmly into my own space and releases my hand.
The bottom row has claimed another two souls while I was earning Lord knows how many demerits.
I fold my arms, chewing on my lip as I scrabble about for some small infraction that’s not too incriminating. I’m too much of a coward to feel any overwhelming need to do the honorable thing. I’d give them nothing if I thought I’d get away with it.
But Alderman Keelan really dialed up the pressure to admit guilt for something, anything, and I’m not sure he’ll believe I’m as pure as the driven snow.
I can’t think of anything, though.
My past isn’t riddled with rebellious behavior, and the few rules I have broken are real whoppers. Me and Gabe on the wall is not an option. Neither are the intimate details of our relationship. There’s that time I watched Gabe, Daniel and Chris climb the wall and didn’t report it, but that would get them into treacherous trouble.
The pre-Tithe party? I don’t know what the punishment for that would be, but do I really want to find out?
Maybe I can just make up a story.
What?
My foot taps nervously, and I decide to wait. Maybe the other confessions will give me some ideas.
A short while later, however, my ideas are walked out of the auditorium, each with an Alder right behind them. Apparently this is a private confessional.
Time marches on and our numbers dwindle. Jessie and Harry, Chris, Daniel, June and Olly, one by one they slip away. Every now and then an Alder returns to collect the next person from a hot seat.
Gabe presses a hand on my shoulder, alerting me to the fact that he’s going. I stand to follow, not wanting to be left here alone. I so badly want to ask what he’s going to say (and can I use it), but we’re still being monitored by Kane and Lt. Palmer. I haven’t figured out my story yet and I guess that answers that. I don’t have anything to confess.
When my turn finally comes, I’m led out by Alderman Harken into a narrow passage that appears to run along the back of the building. As we walk, the walls close in. I can’t breathe. My palms feel clammy.
This is all wrong.
I’m all wrong.
Alderman Keelan said there’s more to our Tithe than the treaty to the wall and I believed him. What kind of stupid am I? This place is a funnel with only two outlets. Those who stay. Those who go. There must be some method to the madness of selection and what if this is it? Life in Ironcross is founded on sacrifice. Everyone pays the price. None of us are spared.
Is that the real choice here? Take responsibility for myself and suffer the consequences or suffer the wall?
We pass through a doorway, coming in from the other end of the passageway to Lt. Palmer’s office. Moments later, I’m seated in a gray-walled office across a desk from Alderman Harkin.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” he tells me, placing his hands over a notepad opened on a blank page.
Tell that to the foot. It’s got the jitters again, tap-tap-tapping on the floor. That blank page stares at me, gets me wondering if my choice hasn’t already been made. Someone’s bound to confess about the pre-Tithe party, drop enough names to fill that page.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Alderman Harken says, pen poised.
I break down. “I attended a pre-Tithe party.”
He scribbles one sentence on the page. “You know pre-Tithe parties were outlawed years ago.”
“Yeah, and I’m sorry, I really am.” My throat scratches with the ashes o
f my confession but I press on. “I shouldn’t have gone and I’ll never do it again, I swear. It wasn’t even that great.”
He looks at me. “Do you know why?”
Is that a trick question? I shrug. “The party wasn’t terrible, but I’m not the best person to ask. I haven’t been to many.”
“Why pre-Tithe parties were outlawed, Miss Rhys.”
I splutter out an embarrassed cough.
“There was an incident where a young man nearly drowned.” He places the pen down on the page and rests back in his chair. “A Tithe party game, they called it, with dares and challenges to prove who was worthy and who was not.”
He watches me, waiting, waiting, until he finally drags the reluctant response from me, “Um, that sounds disrespectful.”
“And undermines the value of every life in Ironcross,” he says, his charismatic voice layered with rich, sober tones. “That kind of ignorant behavior ridicules the sacrifice of those who’ve come before and endangers the lives of our youth. Someone could have died.”
A cold shiver washes over me. If I’d known all this, I would never have confessed to that stupid pre-Tithe party. This is so much worse than a minor infraction. “If I’d known this, I would never have attended that party.”
“We never pass any Alder law lightly, Miss Rhys,” he says, unimpressed with my excuse. “There is always much deliberation and serious intent. You do not need to know in order to obey.”
But it does help, doesn’t it? I clamp my mouth, afraid of what may come out.
He sees straight through me, anyway. “Sometimes theoretical ideals are better appreciated when backed up with a life lesson. That’s why I’ve explained this all to you now, but I should warn you, whatever has been said here doesn’t leave the room. There were consequences for all those involved and even more severe consequences for those who talked. We kept the incident quiet with good reason. Unfortunately, notorious events sometimes have a way of turning into sordid traditions.”
He looks at me, waiting again.
“I understand.”
“I’m sure you do.” His lips flatten into a line somewhere between a smile and a grimace. “Well, we’re done for now. Please make your way to the gymnasium. We’ll be with you shortly.”
That’s it? He hasn’t even tried to get any other names out of me. I stand, grateful to get out of there, uneasy with all my overthinking and assumptions. Maybe I could have gotten away with confessing to nothing at all.
15
THE TENSION IN the gym is thick enough to be sliced. Gabe is over by the climbing ropes with Daniel and Chris. Jessie is by herself on a mat against the wall. For a moment I’m torn, then I get a proper look at her and there’s no competition.
“Hey,” I say as I drop down on the mat beside her.
She gives me a miserable smile. “I think Harry and I just broke up.”
I want to tell her that’s ridiculous, but the unshed tears shining in her eyes would disagree. “Are you sure?” I say, and quickly change that to, “What happened?” when a tear runs down her cheek.
“I admitted to that damn pre-Tithe party,” she says in a tight voice.
“You and me both, sister.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously, as in seriously screwed up, right?” I sigh. “Did your Alder tell you about the party game that got it outlawed?”
Jessie nods. “That’s the problem. Harry wasn’t too bothered that I’d confessed to the party, but he freaked out on me when he heard about that. He said, and I quote, ‘don’t you ever slow down for one minute to think before you speak?’”
I shoot an indignant scowl to where he’s skulking in the shadows of some contraption with steel bars. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” She swipes at her eyes with a clumsy hand. “Alderman Keelan forbid me to say anything about the incident and that’s practically the first thing that comes out of my mouth. I should never have told Harry. I’ve never seen him this angry.”
“What did he confess to?”
“Who knows? We didn’t get that far,” Jessie mutters. “He stormed off.”
“Did you mention him in your confession?”
“Of course not. They didn’t ask and even if they had, I’d never say.”
“Then I don’t get it,” I say. “What’s he angry at you for?”
“That’s obvious, isn’t it?”
“Huh?”
“It’s like Rose said, we’re a couple, which means we rise and fall together.” Jessie wipes her eyes again. “At least, we were a couple.”
I’ve never seen her this upset, which makes me angrier than Harry has any right to be. “I’ll be back in a sec,” I tell her and jump up to go give Harry a piece of my mind.
He sees me coming and, to his credit, stands his ground.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I hiss at him. “I never took you for such a cold-hearted jerk.”
His clean-cut jaw hardens. “This is none of your business.”
“I also confessed to that party.” I jab a finger at his chest. “It seemed like a tame option at the time.”
He grabs my finger and throws it away. “I need you to leave me alone.”
“And Jessie needs you. Period.” My hands fist at my sides. “You can’t do this, Harry. You can’t dump Jessie just because you’re afraid she’ll bring you down.”
He scowls at me. “What are you talking about?”
I double-back a mental step. “You tell me.”
“I’m not dumping Jessie,” he grinds out. “We had a fight, that’s all. I just can’t talk to her right now. The only thing I’m afraid of is saying something I can’t take back.”
“But why are you so angry?”
“Because!”
I give him a look that says I’m not going anywhere without a better explanation and he relents.
“Because I feel so damn helpless,” he says bitterly. “I think she’s in serious shit and I don’t think the Alders are going to let her off with a rap on the knuckles and there’s nothing I can do except stand back and watch.”
His words punch the breath from my lungs. If he’s that worried about Jessie, how worried should I be for myself?
“She thinks I’m dumping her?” Harry says softly, his gaze wandering over my shoulder, and he doesn’t hang around for my verdict.
I watch him go to Jessie and I feel slightly better when I see her crumpled smile. What does Harry know, anyway? He’s probably just overreacting. Love can do that to a person.
Georga sidles up to me. “Another sucker bites the dust.”
“Harry’s not a sucker.”
“I was looking at you.”
“Me?”
“I heard what you said about confessing to that pre-Tithe party,” she says. “You and half the morons in this room.”
“And what did you confess to?” I snap. The last thing I need is her telling me like it is. “Jumping the wall and running with the beasts?”
Her smile is snide. “Who says I confessed to anything?”
“Because you’re not a coward.”
“I’m not an idiot either,” she drawls. “The only mistake anyone is going to learn anything from here today is how never to confess to any crime unless you’re caught red-handed. That’s a hard lesson I can do without.”
“Did it occur to you that the Alders may be using this exercise as a gauge to measure who scorns the values of our society and who upholds them?”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got that covered, too.”
“And how is that?”
Georga laughs off my dubious concern. “I have no intention of pairing and for all the hysteria around here about what will or will not get you Tithed, I’m pretty sure that one sticks.”
So am I. “You want to be Tithed?”
“I don’t want to spend my life attached to some irritating boy,” she says. “I’d rather take my chances with the Tithe than settle for less. There’s a difference.”
“They’re not all irritating,” I protest, looking around the gym. Georga isn’t just pretty, she’s hot. She’s sexy. She could have any (almost any) guy in the room. “There must be someone here that interests you.”
“Now that you mention it… I would probably definitely consider Kane.”
My brow shoots sky high. “Kane?” Then again, why not? “There’s no rule that says you can’t pair outside our Tithe year and he’s available, I guess. You should go for it.”
“Maybe I will.” She gives me an audacious wink and sidles off.
Kane and Georga.
Huh.
They’d certainly make a flaming pair.
I make my way over to Gabe, finally, and notice the grim expressions.
“So who else was stupid enough to confess to the party?” I say brightly and hold a hand up, trying to raise some cheer.
“Not me,” Daniel says.
I fake my best smile. “Good for you.”
Gabe reels me in until my back is flush with his chest, his arms wrapped around me. “He told them about the wall.”
“What?” I glare at Daniel.
He glares back at me. “This whole thing is so fucked up. They wanted the juice, I gave them the juice.”
I twist to look up at Gabe. “Please tell me you didn’t.”
He untwists me and presses a kiss to the crown of my head. “I went with the party. I thought it would be a safe bet, now I’m not so sure.”
Neither am I. “How bad do you think it will be?”
“We’re about to find out,” Chris says, eyes nudging our attention to the door as the Alders file in.
This is what I know about the system of law in Ironcross. When you are suspected of an unlawful action, the Guard carries out their investigation with unlimited (and often invasive) access to your friends, your co-workers, your family, your home. If the evidence supports an official accusation, you are brought to Town Hall where you will have the opportunity to plead your case and be judged by the jury of our four Alders.
Most of these steps have been skipped today.
We confessed on our own accord.
Standing there in Gabe’s warm embrace while we are judged and sentenced, this is what I’ve learnt. None of us need or deserve the hard lesson delivered by the Alders today.
