Sapient Salvation 1: The Selection (Sapient Salvation Series)

by Jayne Faith

  “Let the others see,” Akantha commanded.

  Gasping, the girl stared at Akantha as if she didn’t understand.

  “You.” Akantha turned her gaze on me. “Make her stand and hold out her arm.”

  I gulped, hurried to the wall, and hauled the girl to her feet. Her chest was heaving, though she managed to hold back tears. I gently peeled her fingers away and unfolded the arm she had clutched to her stomach.

  When I saw the angry wound, I inhaled sharply through my nose. Obligates around me gasped and shifted their feet. The injury was circular, about the size of a medium coin. The edge was dark with burnt blood, as if Akantha’s device had singed the skin. The center was a blistered and bloody oozing mess.

  “We have the technology to heal such a wound and leave no scar or trace,” Akantha said, her tone almost nonchalant. “But you will wear this wound as a reminder, for the whole lot of you, that there are consequences for disobedience.”

  I winced, trying to imagine how the girl could keep from screaming in pain. Her arm needed to be dressed or it would get infected. The poor girl needed painkillers right away.

  “Line up,” Akantha said, flicking her fingers at us with a bored look as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  The injured Obligate hadn’t yet retrieved her jar of soil—she’d probably been too busy trying to talk to the boy—so I went to the cabinet and got it. I clenched my jaw, trying to hold a neutral expression and avoid looking at Akantha, hoping I wasn’t somehow overstepping the rules by carrying the girl’s jar.

  I let out a small relieved breath only when the Calistan woman began leading us back the way we’d come. I walked in front of the injured girl, a jar in each of my hands, listening to her ragged breaths and whimpers.

  Instead of going back outside, we walked through white hallways. At some point we took a turn and passed through a glass walkway into another building, and then we were filing through windowless passages of a different sort. Calistans pushing carts of linens, food, clothing, and other items moved back and forth, in and out of swinging doors. I caught brief glimpses of what looked like storage and supply rooms and caught a whiff of freshness and soap that reminded me of washing day.

  By the change in the architecture, I guessed we’d left the hospital or processing building where we’d received our implants. The new building was constructed of a dark material that I couldn’t identify—something between metal and smooth stone.

  It took me several minutes to realize that these Calistans with the carts and supplies were probably servants. As when we were outside, each one bowed to Akantha. And they all eyed the jars of soil and examined me and the other Obligates as if we were well-fed pigs going up for auction at market.

  We went up many flights of stairs—I stopped counting after fourteen—and Akantha let us into a large, half-circle room, with tiered seating lining the curved wall.

  “This is where Lord Toric will receive you later tonight,” Akantha said. She gestured to a raised platform along the flat wall, where there was a large carved wooden chair.

  Memories of the pavilion back home came to mind. There was hardly time to look around before Akantha herded us through a little arched alcove to one side of what I assumed was Lord Toric’s throne. I crowded in with the other Obligates and looked down a narrow hallway lined with doors on both sides.

  “Males, one to each room over here.” Akantha gestured to our right. “Females, this side.” She gestured to the doors on the left.

  Again, I felt a bit like livestock. I handed the wounded girl her jar, which she took with a tight nod. Her face was pale and constricted with pain. My heart went out to her, but there was nothing more I could do.

  I went to the third door on the left, drew a deep breath, and reached for the handle. The door swung open smoothly, revealing a small room that looked . . . comfortable, actually. I whipped around when the door snapped closed behind me, and there was another quick click of a lock sliding into place. I reached for the handle, but as I’d expected the door didn’t budge.

  I sighed, suddenly bone-weary. If I had to be trapped here, I might as well rest a moment. The heightened sensations I’d felt when I first woke with the implant were fading along with my energy, and I almost wondered if I’d imagined them.

  There was a backless divan against the far wall of a space that was larger than the room I’d shared with Lana. Next to it stood a small table with a dark stone pitcher and clear drinking glass. And food.

  As I looked around for a spot to set my jar, my stomach rumbled. I’d barely eaten anything in the past two days. A tiny ledge that jutted from the wall next to the door had an indentation that perfectly accepted the base of the jar.

  I went to the cart, filled the glass, and drank until it was empty. The dry air made me feel brittle, as if I could never get enough water. I filled the glass again and sipped from it as I bent over the tray of food.

  A small oblong loaf of brown bread, a tiny round dish with dark vinegar in it by the aroma, a few thin slices of cured meat, and—

  I covered my mouth with one hand, stifling a tiny laugh even as tears sprang to my eyes. There were two bergamines on the tray.

  Was it possible that these fruits had come from the very orchard where I’d worked so many days? Could these be bergamines from my very own collection bag, perhaps picked the last day that Court and I had . . . I squeezed my eyelids closed and shook my head. Court did not deserve to take up any space in my mind.

  But thoughts of home seemed to sap my strength further, and I sank to the divan. I absently ran my fingers over its fabric. It was nicer than anything from home, nicer than anything I’d ever seen, in fact. The little table was beautifully constructed as well. It shouldn’t surprise me—of course the overlords had fancy things. But I was a slave, regardless of how I fared in the competition against the other Obligates. It seemed odd that a room for a slave to rest in should have such lovely things.

  I reached for the bread and ate slowly, hoping my stomach wouldn’t rebel after so many hours without food.

  I touched the implant and traced the edge of the metal disc where it met my skin. The skin there was sensitive, but not painful. I could still feel the faint pulse of the device.

  There was a soft click at the door, and it swung inward. I rose to my feet, my heart lurching.

  A woman—an Earthen woman—stepped into the room. She wore a tunic and loose trousers made of a lovely emerald green fabric. Her brown hair was streaked with white. She seemed nearly old enough to be my grandmother, yet she moved with a grace and sensuality that gave her a youthful energy.

  “Maya, I am Iris,” she said, stopping a few feet away and folding her hands at her waist. “It is my job to offer you guidance during the competition.”

  A hot bolt of emotion shot up through my chest. This woman was a friend, I knew it immediately, and it was so unexpected I nearly wept.

  I went to her and held out my hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Iris,” I said, my voice wobbling. “I didn’t know I would have a personal guide.”

  “I have been where you now stand,” she said, squeezing my hand and then letting it go. “I’ll do my best to help you prepare for each phase of the competition.”

  “You were—?” My eyes widened. “Oh! You won when you were an Obligate? And you’re part of Lord Toric’s harem?”

  She shook her head with a faint smile. “Not Lord Toric’s. I was a woman of Lord Alec’s harem—Lord Toric’s father. But I am now retired.”

  I felt heat rise to my cheeks as I realized my mistake. She’d served the previous Lord, probably before I was even born. “You’re allowed to just . . . retire?”

  “The women of the harem still have duties even after we’re finished serving as companions to the Lord.” She sat on the divan and patted the cushion next to her. “But that is a far-off concern. Let us focus instead on more immediate things. Our time is limited, and I imagine you have many questions.”

 
I sat and angled my knees toward her, relishing the chance to speak to someone who seemed concerned about my welfare. “Yes, I do. I hardly know where to begin.” I blinked several times, and then suddenly remembered Akantha’s punishment of one of the female Obligates. “There was an Obligate who was injured—burned. Her wound looked extremely painful and needs to be dressed. Is there some way to make sure she gets help?”

  Iris inclined her head and reached out a soothing hand to touch my forearm. “Do not worry over her. She will receive the care that the Mistress of Tournament judges she is allowed.” She shifted, crossed one leg over the other, and clasped her hands around her knee. “You need to turn your attention to yourself and your own survival, Maya.”

  My mouth went dry at her grave tone. “Yes, of course. I suppose I want to know, well, what will I face in the first round of the competition?”

  “The first challenge of the Tournament of the Offered will be a test of physical and mental fortitude. It is to cull the weak.”

  Cull the weak? I shivered at the ominous phrase.

  “But won’t the men have a huge advantage in that type of contest, if it depends on physical strength?” I asked.

  “It is not a straight contest of strength,” she said. “I don’t know the specific nature of this challenge, as the guides aren’t informed of the exact details, but it will be something in which a strong young woman will have just as good a chance at surviving as a strong young man.”

  My chest seemed to contract, squeezing the air out of my lungs. “Some Obligates will die.” I barely managed to whisper it.

  Part of me felt foolish even saying it. I knew some stages of the competition would be deadly, but knowing such a thing back on Earthenfell and hearing it now on Calisto were somehow two entirely different things.

  “Surely you expected this? It is not a secret, even on Earthenfell.”

  “No, I knew it. It’s just—why? Why must the overlords kill some of us?” I shook my head in frustration as cold fear gripped me. “Why can’t Lord Toric simply look us over and pick his favorite woman for his harem, pick an able man to serve him, and then send the rest back? It just seems extremely cruel and unnecessary.”

  “There are several reasons,” she said. “You must understand that from the Calistans’ perspective, it is not about killing anyone. It is about sorting the worthy form the unworthy. When the Lord leads the Calistans for the Return to Earthenfell after all enemies have been vanquished, the women of the harem will bear his children, the first children of the new Earth. Those women must be worthy of a responsibility so important and sacred to the Calistans.”

  My jaw dropped in surprise. This was the first I’d heard of this. As far as I’d known, the harem existed just to serve the pleasure of the Calistan Lord.

  “And second, your suggestion is forbidden by the Calistan sacred texts,” she continued. “No one from Calisto may set foot on Earthenfell until all others who claim rights to the homeland are defeated.”

  “What sacred texts? I’ve never heard of these. And I’m not from Calisto. Earthenfell is my home. I was born there and breathed every breath there until today. I’ve never even read these sacred texts you speak of! Why must I follow their rules?” My fingers dug into the cushion of the divan, every muscle in my body tightening in outrage.

  “The Calistans live by their sacred texts, and they handle Earthens according to what the texts direct. Maya, Earthenfell was your home, but not anymore.” Iris’s eyes hardened. “They only possible way you may step foot there again is if the Calistans defeat their enemies within your lifetime and the Lord leads the Return to the homeland.”

  I sat there, rigid with frustration and fear. “And how long have the Calistans been fighting their enemies?” I whispered.

  “Over a thousand years.”

  I squeezed my eyes closed as anger churned through me in a dark torrent. I wanted to tear through the walls, to scream, to find the so-called sacred texts and shred them and burn the pieces. It was not fair.

  It was not fair.

  But I could change nothing if I died in the competition. I had to get close to Lord Toric to have any hope of influence.

  “I can guess what you are thinking,” Iris said.

  I opened my eyes and cast her a stony look.

  “But you’d best take care to control your feelings because the overlords know what you are thinking.”

  A chill crept up my back and over my scalp, cooling my anger. “What do you mean?”

  She reached up to touch the metal disc at the back of my neck. “They will be alerted to any traitorous thoughts. And traitorous actions will bring immediate punishment.”

  “They can read our thoughts?” My stomach tightened and bile rose in my throat. The idea that my mind was no longer my own was so horrible, so invasive. I clenched my hands together in my lap to keep from clawing at the implant.

  “I don’t think it works exactly like that, no. Or if they can read our thoughts, I don’t think they have any interest in examining every whim that passes through our minds.” She gave a short, mirthless laugh. “I imagine that would get very tiresome. But there are certain thoughts they’re interested in. Traitorous or murderous ones, for instance. Thoughts that might interfere with the practices outlined in their sacred texts.”

  I stared at the floor, trying to process the information. Regardless of what my implant did or did not reveal to the overlords, I didn’t have time or energy to waste on anger. Squaring my shoulders, I turned to my guide.

  “Okay. So tell me: how do I win?”

  She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the outer corners, and patted my knee, clearly relieved to be moving on to a different topic. “I do like your spirit, Maya. You had a physical job on Earthenfell, is that correct?”

  “I worked in the orchards picking fruit.” I wasn’t sure if that qualified as physical work or not. Most work assignments required some moving around.

  “Ah yes, I had friends who were fruit collectors. That’s good. I can tell that climbing trees has made you lean and strong. You will need to use what you know in order to survive the first challenge. Your body knows how to climb and how to carry heavy collection bags while you balance in precarious places, right?”

  “I suppose that’s true, and maybe it will be of some use,” I said slowly, barely daring to allow a bit of hope lift my heart. “But what advice can you give me?”

  “You need to be careful of the other Obligates. Be very careful of who you trust. They’re all trying to survive, too, and some will try to manipulate you. Some may even try to kill you.”

  My eyes widened. “But you said the implants would alert the overlords if we had murderous thoughts.”

  “During the challenges, they care only if your murderous thoughts are directed toward Calistans. Among the Obligates, almost anything goes. Outright attempts at murdering other Obligates will figure into the standings of favor, however.”

  “Standings of favor?”

  “You all will be ranked. Boys against each other and girls against each other. Cold-blooded murder, although not literally forbidden, would hurt your standing. Lord Toric would not want a murderous woman in his harem. But being too nice to the other competitors, or being too gullible, will weaken you at best and at worst could kill you.”

  I snorted a laugh. “So I need to be something less than a cold-blooded killer but more than a doormat.”

  She smiled faintly, but her eyes were intent. “Yes. Keep in mind that Lord Toric wants not only a woman who can skillfully serve his pleasure in his harem in the near term, but a woman who is worthy of bearing his Earthly children in the event of the Return to the homeland.”

  I looked at her curiously, wondering about the skills that had won her a place in the harem. “Were you one of the Obligates who was prepared for the competition, or did your clan select you by lottery?”

  “I trained for nearly three years,” she said. “In return for my sacrifice, my clan mates funded my training with
a variety of coaches as well as compensated my family.”

  That’s what my clan had done for Belinda and her family. She’d spent nearly two years in training.

  I was afraid to ask the next question, but knew the answer was critical. “And how big an advantage will the trained women have over me?”

  “Part of my guidance involves honesty, and I will always be honest with you when I am permitted, Maya. So I will not mince words. Their advantage is significant.” She paused, watching my face closely. “They don’t have any more information than you do in terms of the exact nature of each phase of challenge in the Tournament, but they’ve been trained for a wide range of possibilities. You will find that the women who were prepared for this are every bit as strong an agile as you are even though they haven’t been doing your type of work. They’ve been coached in strength and agility, charm, wit, poise, and the arts of seduction and pleasure, among other things.”

  Seduction and pleasure . . .

  I bit my lower lip, considering all of what she’d said. “I’m not . . . experienced.” My cheeks heated, and I clutched the fabric of my dress against my palms.

  Iris’s eyebrows lifted. “You’re a virgin?”

  I nodded. “I’m um, I—had a boyfriend for a time. So I’m not completely unfamiliar with what goes on between men and women.”

  She nodded, but peered at me with an assessing gleam in her eye.

  “Is that another big mark in the disadvantage column for me?” My entire body seemed to be blushing, but I forced myself to return her steady eye contact.

  “Possibly . . . but maybe not.” She pressed her lips together for a moment, and then her gaze softened and she leaned in just a bit. “But you know what? That is a worry for another day. For now, I want you to focus only on the challenge ahead of you. You must make it through this phase before we concern ourselves with your sexual inexperience.”