“Why would they pay so much?” I whispered to Zoe.
She shrugged. “Beats me. I wish I knew, though. ‘Cause paying that much for a handmaid is pure foolishness.”
“Item 23674A, sold to Constantine Fortuna in booth 5A!” The crowd erupted into applause as an older Water Bearer led Eva away. From the pleased look on Eva’s face, she couldn’t wait to see the rich Guild member who had bought her.
Next up was a girl I didn’t know. Compared to the excitement around Eva, the girl—known as Item 23798B, didn’t generate as many bids. Matter of fact, Valentin had to encourage bidding. “C’mon now, folks. We have a perfectly good Water Bearer here. She’ll serve her purpose just fine. I’m looking for a thousand credits.”
With only five bids placed, the girl was sold for a meager 1,200 credits.
And just like that, the Water Bearers around me began to disappear as Valentin called more and more to the golden seat. As each person left, my heart began to race from thinking, Would I be next? Could I run away now if I tried? Had I missed my chance already?
My gaze flicked to Zoe. Each person who’d left hadn’t come back. They disappeared into the darkness off the side of the stage. Would her sponsor buy both of us?
When Valentin called Zoe’s name, my heart dropped. My hand, with a will of its own, continued to clutch hers when she tried to leave.
“It’s okay,” she whispered softly. Her palm briefly warmed my cheek. “Between the two of us, you’re actually the stronger one, cousin. Everything will be all right from now on.”
But as I watched Zoe go, I didn’t feel that way. Not as Valentin opened the bidding or as the lights from the balcony lit up with bidders. What I felt was my only connection to my family in this place being taken away. With every bid rising higher and higher, I clutched my gown tighter and tighter. All the while, Zoe smiled at the crowd.
“If we have no more bidders, item number 23608A has sold for 23,000 credits to Justina Helmquest in booth 9C. Congratulations!” My stomach clenched painfully. The usher arrived to take Zoe away. My cousin turned briefly to wave in my direction as the usher led her away. I tried to be strong—sit straighter, do anything except look at the empty seats around me. After over a half hour of bidding, most of the Water Bearers had sold quickly with smaller bids. But, so far, everyone had been sold. And what pained me with every breath was that my time would come soon. My gaze shifted to my hands, and then to the floor. I didn’t want to look up anymore to see what was happening.
When the time came, Justina Helmquest had to bid on me and win.
I almost didn’t hear when Valentin called my name. I glanced around to see that everyone was gone. I was dead last.
“Here she comes. Now all you reluctant bidders can try for the ultimate prize. We have here Tate Sullivan, item number 23607A. A lovely girl, if I may say so.”
His words drew me toward him. Past the empty seats. Down the rows toward the spotlight. During the whole way, my stomach threaten to purge. I knew what was coming. I knew what words would be said to the crowd, but they would be all about me. A set of stairs to the left was a means to escape, but I ignored them. There was no turning back now.
My hand itched to cover my scar—to keep everyone from seeing my deformity. All I could think about was the ill-formed stitches from the traveling physician who repaired the opening in my face shortly after my birth. If only he had used standard plastic-stitches the rich had available instead of regular stitches.
“We had enough prebids on 23607A to make this an interesting auction. I’m more than pleased to open bidding at 50,000 credits. Can I get a bid at fifty-five?”
I didn’t have to look up from staring at my clenched hands to see the rainbow of lights against the taut muscles. My heart jumped to hear him say that unthinkable number. Who’d want to bid on me? But then I remembered that woman with the black hair, red lips, and pale skin and how she said she couldn’t wait to bid on me.
My breath quickened as the number rose. Higher and higher.
“Eighty-five from 23C, another bid from 9C. Do you want to add another 10,000, 23C?”
Soon enough, the battle of bids jumped between three parties. Balcony 23C, 9C, and 14A continued on for another few tense minutes, the number catching my breath as it climbed. Eventually, two of them backed out, leaving one the clear winner.
“Congratulations to 14A, the winner of item number 23607A at 95,000 credits.” The spotlight dimmed. “And that concludes the 203rd annual Water Bearers auction! Congratulations again to our winners and thank you everyone for attending today!”
He hadn’t given a name and Justina’s booth wasn’t 14A.
Every muscle locked. I couldn’t even blink. I didn’t move even when someone appeared at my side. I heard Astrid say, “It’s time to go, Tate.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
As I made my way to the transport ship on the roof, I tried not to think of Zoe. She’d want me to hold myself together, and I would. But Claire’s warning clung to me.
No one spoke to me as we walked briskly through the corridors. Five soldiers in their crisp black uniforms accompanied us. Their faces resembled petrified wood, stiff and lifeless. Each of them rested their hands close to their las-guns. As if someone small like me would take a chance to run away. Astrid continued to stroll ahead of everyone, her heels clicking on the marble floors that turned into the concrete of the Training Facility’s launch bay. I stared at the back of her dark blue shoes until she abruptly stopped.
“We have a problem! Move faster!” She grabbed me by the arm. A series of pops came from all directions. My gaze darted to the nearby transport ship waiting for me. Through the haze of twilight, figures were closing in toward the launch pad.
In the shadows, I couldn’t see much, only strangers in dark clothes moving closer and closer to our position from across the wide expanse of the roof. How did they get up here?
Astrid dragged me behind a pile of gray storage crates. The soldiers followed us, returning fire at every opportunity.
“Why are they attacking us?” I barely had time to catch my breath before a few shots set one of the crates on fire.
She ignored me and nodded as if someone spoke in her ear. Perhaps the security detail had given her a personal comm-unit for her ear,
As the las-gun fire escalated, it was a sure sign they outnumbered us. Astrid leaned toward me. “We don’t have enough time before backup arrives. We have to make a run for it.”
My eyes widened. If what Claire told me was true, this was my chance to escape. I had to stall to give them time to come get me.
“I’m not running out there. What if I get hit?”
Astrid’s eyes burned. “Quit the stupid act,” she spat. “Seventeen donor cards! The highest bid I’ve seen in years! We both know they’re here for you.” She tugged me closer. “Do you think they’d dare hit the person they plan to abduct? They’re not that dumb.”
“Who are those people?” I asked.
She turned to the men. “On three, I’m taking her in.”
Two of the men nodded. They waited for the countdown. Each second that passed made me want to leave them and head back toward the open door of the building. What stopped me was that wasn’t the way out either.
Astrid belted out the countdown. Much faster than I expected. Before I had a chance to bolt, she tightened her grip on my arm and dragged me from behind the crates.
The soldiers opened fire, and my supposed kidnappers retreated behind their cover. Even then, a few of them tried to fire on Astrid. Instead of dragging me behind her, she jerked me around to protect the front of her body.
“Keep moving, damn it!” In the open door of the sleek transport ship, the pilot waited, gesturing madly for us to get inside.
With each step, my freedom disappeared. We only had a few more steps to the door. I twisted around and released my frustration on Astrid. I ripped at her uniform and tried to claw at her eyes, but she was too strong and it was far too late. As we
closed in, I felt the sharp bite of pain on my upper back and smelled the disgusting odor of burned flesh. This time it was mine. I gasped two times. My blood rushed to my head. I fell backwards, darkness folding over me. The last thing I heard was the sound of the transport door closing with me inside.
Even though I was half asleep, I could see the dock where I loved to read after school. Only a short trip from my house, I’d venture out to sit on an abandoned pier and let the sun warm my skin. From my spot, I could see for miles along the coast. To the south, an old flag fluttered on a weathered lighthouse. It was still used in emergencies, but no one bothered to repair or paint it anymore. While to the north, some of my neighbors returned from fishing for the day. Their rusty boat made all sorts of noise and spat out blackened smoke. All of these things painted the landscape of my memories—until I spotted two figures standing on the other end of pier. With their backs turned, I couldn’t see their faces, but I caught bits of their conversation. Both of them wore unfamiliar gowns of dark red. The color of blood.
“Are you sure she’s prepared to do this?” one woman asked the other. “Her wound was severe.”
The other person, an older woman, harrumphed. “The girl should’ve thought of the consequences before she tried to escape. It doesn’t matter, though. We don’t have any more time.”
The sky over the sea darkened. Almost as if the clouds threatened to bring rain. The sun’s warmth against my cheeks turned cold. A brisk wind swept across the water, turning the lighthouse and the figures ash-gray. As the darkness continued to suck the life out of my surroundings, my back began to ache with a subtle throbbing with each breath I took. I reached for my back, gingerly touching the irritated skin.
I grimaced from the pain and shifted as wakefulness pulled me from sleep into the stark reality of the present. The sea was gone and in it’s place was a damp, dark room. How long had I slept?
Fatigue clung from my arms to the tips of my fingers, my lips were dry, and my belly clenched around raw hunger. If my last thoughts hadn’t been about my attempted escape, I wouldn’t have tried to sit up. But every time I tried to make my eyelids twitch, nothing happened. Instead, I continued to rest on my side against some frigid stone.
My outstretched arms were connected to something else. And something heavy was on the back of my neck.
And it slowly beeped.
“You’re a foolish girl,” a hoarse voice whispered across from me.
The drip-drop of water against stone bled into my thoughts as my surroundings finally came into focus. The air was stale and damp like a cellar, and I wasn’t on a recovery bed. I had to be in an underground chamber of some kind. Whatever was on the back of my neck gave off a red light with each beep. The light cast a faint glow against the stone walls.
“Where am I?” The words scratched my throat.
A slight tug on my hand drew my attention to the bindings around them. I squinted as I adjusted to the darkness. Suddenly, a set of eyes opened in front of me. They appeared rheumy with thin veins extending from the enlarged irises. The eyes blinked twice before I caught the glint of yellowed teeth. A mouth opening wide into sinister smile.
I sucked in a deep breath and whimpered. The beeping increased with my racing heart. No. No. No, it can’t be. Impossible. Even with the faint red light and the shadows hiding most of him, I knew the man who was tied to me. He was the man whose frail fingers touched mine less than a week ago, during the initiation. He was the old man who had given me all those red sponsor cards.
With what little strength I had, I tried to pull back. Scoot back. Anything to separate myself from this person whose wheezy laugh shook his whole body. His laughs turned into a series of back-breaking coughs. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Why can’t this nightmare end?” I cried.
“It will end,” he gasped. “Soon.”
My eyes snapped open. My empty stomach threatened to spew bile. What just happened? A tingling sensation brushed against my fingertips, and then spread up my arms. The metallic tang of the offering enveloped my mouth and spread into my nostrils. I gagged as the horrible taste built and the tingling reached my head.
“Please...” I begged. “Please stop...”
The old man twitched. Then his body broke into spasms.
All I could do was lay there with clenched teeth and pray for al of this to end. For that annoying beeping to stop. A few seconds later, I got my wish and passed out.
CHAPTER NINE
Barely awake, but hardly asleep, my thoughts frantically swam and refused to coalesce together. I moved slowly, sensing I was curled up in crisp sheets. The scent of fresh linens was comforting. The weight on my neck was gone and my hands were free.
The room was bathed in darkness. Only a spear of light through some curtains lit the center of the room, casting everything else in murky shadows. The space was stuffy—almost as if the air had settled and not moved in a few days.
Not far from me, a tall figure approached, crossing the light. Something glinted in his hand. A large blade. He closed in on me, holding the knife high above where I slept.
Fatigue touched my senses, but my rapid heartbeat kept me awake. My lungs locked as I waited for the blade to penetrate the blankets. The intruder stared intently at me, his eyes dark and penetrating. His face was angular, but youth was present in his features. “This ends now for you, for everyone else.”
His arm swung down and my eyes widened. My mouth opened to choke out words. “Please. Don’t.”
He stopped mid-swing. With the weapon no more than inches from my chest. His eyes searched mine. I’d never had someone stare at me for so long. For a moment, I passed out, but when I woke up again, he had backed away.
“Not yet,” the boy whispered, a hint of disappointment adding an edge to his words. “This will be over soon enough though…”
Everything rapidly faded away. Whether it were a dream or reality, I hoped I wouldn’t remember.
I woke up to the warmth of a bed. Could everything I’d experienced have been a dream? The cave. The boy who tried to kill me. I tried to go back to sleep, but a strange itch crept up my arm. This itch turned into the sensation of tiny legs—little ants—gripping and running along my skin.
I shot up in the bed, clawing and flapping my arms. “Get it off me!” I screeched.
From not far away, a woman said, “It’s begun.”
I kicked and jerked, anything to get rid of whatever pest swarmed over my skin. Several sets of hands grabbed me. Their voices attempted to enter my din.
“It’s all right,” an older woman said. “Just ride through it.”
“It’ll pass soon,” another woman said.
Soon enough, the horrible feeling vanished, leaving me staring at the ceiling of a room that was richly decorated, but as cold as the strange cave I’d been in before.
“Where am I?” Exhaustion set in again, and I couldn’t will myself to move. My head flopped to the side, revealing two women and four men holding me down.
Of the two women, one had a stern face, framed with golden hair and gray streaks. Her beak-like nose jutted out over thin lips. If she hadn’t looked so bitter, I might’ve called her beautiful. The other, in contrast, was far shorter and rounder. Her dark brown eyes assessed me with concern. Her skin was as pale as my mother’s.
“If you keep calm, you won’t aggravate your injury,” the taller woman said.
“I’ve been shot?” I could barely hear myself say those words. “Who are you people?”
The tall woman glanced at the shorter one, who motioned for the men to leave the room. They left through a set of heavy double doors. The shorter woman followed after them, but not before she glanced over her shoulder to nod at the taller one.
After the four men left, two others in black uniforms stepped forward. The first one focused on a point above the bed. He had a full dark blond mustache that matched the short buzz cut on his head. His thick arms rested on his sides. An enforcer. But he wasn’t the one who made m
e suck in my breath. It was the young man beside him with rich, reddish-brown hair. The one who’d attacked me while I’d been sleeping. Instead of looking at the far wall, he stared at me with dark green eyes, his hand resting on his knife’s sheath.
The door shut to silence, drawing me out of the moment. A tingling sensation along my fingertips continued to plague me. The pain was hard to ignore too. Was this what happened to people who’d been shot? My lower lip quivered, but I refused to show weakness. Not in front of the man who might’ve attacked me.
“In this household, you will call me Miss Rebecca. I am General Dagon’s assistant. He’s the Master of this estate.” She pointed to the men behind her. “These are the General’s men who help protect the household. Captain Fairbanks is the General’s Master of Firearms.”
The man with the mustache nodded.
“And to his left is Captain Belfry, the Master of Blades.”
“The Master of Blades,” I whispered. The title swirled on my tongue and tasted deadly. We stared each other down until pain raced up my spinal column, and I gripped the sheets as the pain bit into my sides. I looked at the General’s assistant and said in a hoarse voice, “How long have I been asleep?”.
Rebecca faltered for a moment and tilted her head as if in doubt. “Are you prepared to give me the passphrase, Master?”
Passphrase? What kind of place was this?
When I didn’t answer, her lips formed a thin line, and she approached the bed. The sliver of fear across her face had disappeared and now the steely woman remained. “You’ve sustained a las-gun wound. During the cross-fire, a stray shot grazed your back. Fortunately, none of your internal organs have been compromised—although you do have some bruising. When you fell to the ground, you also hit the side of your head. You have a bit of a concussion—nothing more.” Her eyes then lit up as if she tried to be cheerful under a mask of distaste. “As General Dagon’s newest staff member, you must take care of yourself so you can begin your duties.”
Under My Skin Page 6
