The Citizen (Sacrisvita Book 10)

by Dylan Steel

  Nic looked Sage up and down carefully before answering. He started to scoot closer to her in an effort to warm her up, but the boat began rocking precariously again, so he stopped.

  Her hair was plastered to her face, and every inch of her clothing was soaked. She was positive her face had to be a splotchy mess after all the coughing and cold water—a sight much more frightening than appealing, she was quite sure.

  “We’re fine,” he called back.

  Sage hugged her torso in an attempt to warm up and twisted around to see who’d knocked into them. Another pair was sitting in a boat just a few feet behind them. The boy wore a worried look on his face, but the girl seemed to be suppressing laughter. Her hand was still on the rudder. She’d clearly been the one steering when they’d crashed into Sage and Nic’s boat.

  Sage’s heart sank. She didn’t really know either of them, but she’d seen the girl enough times to place her.

  She was one of Carnabel’s friends.

  Apparently, Carnabel really was going to do whatever she could to make good on her promise to come between Sage and Nic—and she didn’t even need to get her hands dirty.

  6. BACKFIRE

  “So you two wound up finishing early?” Penelope asked with wide eyes and a goofy, crooked grin plastered on her face.

  “Yeah.” Sage nodded. “He got us back to the dock right away and found some towels so I could dry off.”

  “Wow,” Penelope said, a dreamy look on her face as she leaned against the sink. “So romantic.”

  “Sure. It was romantic.” Sage snorted and glanced in the mirror, cringing at the memory. “I looked amazing. Nothing like being dunked in a lake as a beauty treatment.”

  Penelope grinned, then concern flitted over her features. “Wait… they didn’t make you go inside to change or anything, did they?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Sage shook her head. “I think I would’ve just stayed soaked if that was my only option. But it wasn’t cold enough to worry about it too much. I basically air-dried in the trailer on the way back to the Institution.”

  “Still, it’s a bummer.” Penelope clucked her tongue sympathetically, then added, “I can’t believe someone would do that on purpose.”

  “Believe it,” Sage said grimly.

  The door swung open suddenly, causing both girls to whip their heads around. A younger girl, maybe a Level Twelve, was standing there frozen, looking back and forth between the two Level Sixteens in front of her.

  “Um, this bathroom’s in use,” Penelope said, flicking her hands toward the girl in a shooing motion. “There’s another one at the end of the hall.”

  “But I—”

  Penelope crossed her arms and straightened, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

  “Fine.” The girl stuck out her lower lip and stomped away, letting the door swing closed after her.

  Sage tried to suppress a grin. “You know, you could’ve let her use it.”

  Penelope rolled her eyes. “But then how would she learn?” she said jokingly, then waved her hand dismissively. “It wasn’t like she was going to pee her pants. She’ll be fine. Besides, we don’t get enough time for girl talk, and I’m so not letting you off the hook about this sailing thing yet.”

  “I already told you pretty much everything.”

  “Yeah, but… You really think Carnabel was behind it?”

  Sage raised an eyebrow at her.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Stupid question.” Penelope frowned. “It’s pretty risky, though. Even for her. Isn’t she worried about getting caught?”

  “She should be,” Sage snorted, “but apparently she’s not. I think she actually considers it a favor to Eprah that she’s trying to fix the pairings—like they should’ve been different all along, and she’s the only one that realizes it.”

  “I’m still not sure how she thinks dunking you in a lake is supposed to help,” Penelope said.

  “Well, it certainly didn’t win me any points for attractiveness. Or grace.” Sage wrinkled her nose. “And I don’t think she’d be terribly upset if her friend wound up drowning me.”

  “I’m not sure if even Carnabel would go that far,” Penelope said, her brow creasing with worry.

  Sage stayed silent for a moment. She wasn’t sure she could give Carnabel the benefit of the doubt on anything anymore. They were both Kunbriat, but that hadn’t stopped her from trying to sabotage Sage’s pairing. She couldn’t be sure Carnabel wouldn’t go to any extremes to get what she wanted—especially if her actions couldn’t be traced back to her.

  “Well, either way, it didn’t work. Nic was pretty much the perfect gentleman after it happened.” A small smile flitted over her lips at the memory. He’d been so worried, fussing over her nonstop the rest of the day—it’d been kind of cute.

  Penelope’s eyebrow shot up. “The look on your face does not say ‘gentleman,’” she teased.

  “Penelope!” Sage squealed, swatting her arm.

  “Kidding!” Penelope rubbed her shoulder. “Not that it would be the worst thing. He is your pair, after all.”

  Sage’s face fell. “Not if Carnabel has her way.”

  “Forget Carnabel. Nic likes you. And you like him, right?” She spread her hands. “You. Him. She doesn’t matter. And if anything, apparently, she’s helping you guys get closer. Maybe you should thank her,” Penelope suggested with a wink.

  “That’s likely,” Sage said dully, shifting her weight. Her good mood now soured, she decided to change the subject. “You know, when we were there, I was kind of surprised to find out that Charles Bennick wasn’t the benefactor in charge anymore.” She paused, studying Penelope’s reaction. “Apparently, he disappeared.”

  “That’s the rumor,” Penelope said without a hint of emotion.

  “Pen…” Sage prodded.

  “Don’t.”

  “I just want to know if—”

  “We really shouldn’t talk about this kind of stuff here,” Penelope said, a note of worry in her voice.

  Sage shrugged, forcing herself to sound as nonchalant as possible. “It’s no big deal. I’ll just erase it during Tech tomorrow.”

  Penelope frowned. “What if someone watched it before that?”

  “You know they won’t. Not unless they have a reason to—and really, who cares about what goes on in the girls’ bathroom?” The corner of Sage’s mouth twitched. “Besides, I do it all the time.”

  Penelope’s eyes widened. “Well, then, you should stop doing it so much. What if you get caught?”

  “I won’t.”

  “You haven’t yet, but that won’t count for anything the one time you do get caught.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Sage said begrudgingly.

  “Please. You know I’m right.” Penelope rolled her eyes. “And I’m not saying you’re not good, just…” She hesitated. “Maybe you should consider the fact that other people might need to make some changes to the system too, and every change increases the risk of someone getting caught.” She looked at her pointedly. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  Sage blew out a puff of air, exasperated. “Well, that’s great. I guess I’m not really the one you’re worried about, huh?”

  “You know that’s not what I meant. I—”

  “I know what you meant,” Sage snapped. “I don’t get the privilege of knowing what’s going on in the club, but I apparently still have to take them into account before I do anything.”

  “That isn’t fair.” Penelope’s shoulders slumped. “I just figured—I mean, it seems like you still care, so…”

  “Right. I do care. Because I’m not a monster.” Sage gritted her teeth. “But I don’t get to know what really happened to Charles Bennick,” she retorted, crossing her arms.

  “You know I can’t—”

  Sage held up a hand. “Don’t bother. I already knew you weren’t going to tell me anything. It’s not like I don’t remember how they operate. Secrecy above common decency and all that.”r />
  Penelope’s expression twisted painfully, but she said nothing, staring at the floor.

  “Yeah, total waste of time,” Sage muttered. “Sorry I asked.”

  Sage’s jaw was starting to hurt from clenching it so hard. Maybe it had been a waste of time to ask Penelope about Charles’ fate, but she still wanted to know. After all, he would have had zero chance of surviving Mr. Gaztok’s arrest and inquisition without the warning she’d given Penelope. Hadn’t she earned the right to know at least this one tiny, little piece of information?

  It probably wouldn’t go too far in easing her guilty conscience about her role in Sophia’s death, but a small part of her had hoped it would help. As it stood, she couldn’t be sure whether or not one more person had died as a result of her actions. After all, Mr. Walsh was only being interrogated because she’d unknowingly set him up as part of her Kunbriat trials.

  Her shoulders heaved. She’d made such a mess. It’d be nice to start trying to balance the scales at least. If that was even possible.

  Blinking back tears, Sage turned to Penelope and straightened. “It’s probably time to get back to the lounge. Wouldn’t want anyone to notice we’re missing.”

  “Ok,” Penelope said softly. She hesitated, adding, “Are you gonna take care of this conversation, or do I need to?”

  Sage tried to force a smile, but it came out as more of a wince. “I’ve got it covered.”

  7. OFFERING

  The sound of chairs scraping across the floor jolted Sage out of her daydream. She glanced at the clock and promptly exited the program she’d been working on. The tech session was over for the day.

  She grabbed her things and made her way through the halls quickly, getting to the Common Lounge early enough to stake out a good study spot. If she was lucky, she’d have some time to work on her Cabinet Studies project alone before her partner showed up.

  As soon as she walked through the doorway, a grin lit up her face. She’d definitely gotten lucky. There were only a handful of students already there, and they were all studying quietly on their own.

  Kicking off her shoes, she nestled into the corner of her favorite couch and propped her databook against her knees. The room was almost never this deserted, and she planned to make the most of it. She flicked her finger across her screen, pulling up her latest assignment: Minimum Qualifications for Membership on the Quorum of Five.

  She stifled a snort. Why did they even study this? It wasn’t like any of them would live long enough to actually stand a chance of becoming a member of the Quorum.

  “Something funny?”

  Sage’s head jerked up. Great. Everett. There went the idea of working solo.

  “Not really,” she said, watching as he took a seat next to her. “Just reading over the assignment. How’d you get out of your Interest so fast?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “Tech’s not too far away.” She pursed her lips and tilted her head expectantly, waiting for his answer.

  “Same.”

  Sage’s eye twitched in irritation at his conciliatory reply. He’d never gotten back to the lounge so early after Interest Societies ended—at least, not that she’d noticed. She pursed her lips, suppressing the urge to respond sarcastically. Instead, she realized she’d be better off directing the conversation back to the assignment. The sooner they finished, the sooner they could talk to other people.

  Clearing her throat, she angled her databook toward him. “This week’s presentation.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said distractedly, pulling out his own databook and ignoring hers. “Have you started working on it yet?”

  She pushed back her annoyance and shook her head. “I was about to, but you showed up sooner than I expected.”

  “Ok, good.” Everett grinned. “Because I had some time after lunch and got most of the research done.”

  “Oh.” Sage blinked in surprise. “Ok.”

  “None of it’s too surprising. Nominated by the Dignitary of the Peace or a current or past member of the Quorum of Five, unanimous approval by all current members of the Quorum, a minimum number of years of government service—which, of course, almost nobody can achieve…”

  Sage looked up sharply at his unexpected cynical commentary but said nothing, listening carefully as he continued listing off qualifications.

  “… and of course, a pledge of loyalty to the welfare of Eprah above all else, including personal gain.” Everett paused and looked up. “That’s as they’re taking office, but I figured it might be a trick question, and it was better to cover all the possibilities.”

  Still hunched over her databook, Sage nodded. “Good plan,” she mumbled in agreement. She was still fervently taking notes on everything Everett had just said.

  “Oh, you don’t need to do that,” he said, realizing what she was doing. “I’ll send you a copy of what I’ve got.”

  “Ok. Thanks.” Relieved, she leaned back, flexing her fingers to ease the stiffness setting in from her frantic note-taking.

  She shifted her weight as he tapped his screen, sending her the file.

  “Done.”

  “Got it. Thanks.”

  “Bet we have to explain their duties next week,” Everett muttered.

  “Maybe,” she said noncommittally as she opened the file.

  Everett’s eyes narrowed as he ruffled a hand through his hair. “Do you ever wonder…” he stopped, tapping the side of his databook nervously.

  “What?” Sage bit the inside of her cheek. She didn’t know what he was about to say, but she did know his tone was setting off warning bells in her head.

  He hesitated. “What’s the point? Of learning all this, I mean.” He jabbed a finger at his screen. “It’s not like it’s going to do us any good. There’s a ton of us on the Cabinet track, and obviously, there are only five positions on the Quorum. It seems like overkill, doesn’t it? I mean, most of us won’t live long enough to be considered an option for any higher-up jobs, right?”

  “Everyone starts with an equal chance. That’s why.” Sage’s heart beat a little faster as she recited the line they’d all heard thousands of times. Not that she believed it, but it wasn’t like she could say anything else.

  “Just seems like kind of a waste,” he said.

  “It’s good for us to know that our leaders earn and deserve their roles,” Sage said firmly. She considered the matter settled until she stole a sideways glance at him. He was clearly still thinking about what he’d just said.

  “Ok, sure, that’s what they’ve told us,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “but we’re on an average career track for average jobs that can be filled by average people. And there are lots of younger average people in Eprah, but have you ever noticed there aren’t a lot of older average people? If it’s so important for us to know this stuff, shouldn’t it actually help us?”

  Sage stiffened and looked around nervously, hoping no one was eavesdropping. He didn’t seem to notice her discomfort as he continued.

  “It’s not going to really help us though, is it? The Cabinet track is average, and most of us won’t make it more than a few years.” He ran a hand down his face. “I mean, sure, we’re probably better off than some people, but—” Everett finally stopped himself as he looked over at her, meeting her eyes which were now wide with fright. His face fell. “Oh, Sage, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” He winced, trying again. “Tech’s not average. It’s way above. And you’re good at it, right? Pretty much guaranteed a great job. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  She shook her head wordlessly. He’d misinterpreted the source of her fear, but she wasn’t about to correct him. He wasn’t telling her anything she hadn’t already thought of, but hearing someone else say it all out loud so freely without even thinking of the consequences—that was absolutely terrifying. She shuddered. If he had decided to make that speech to anyone else, his future would already be over.

  “Listen,” Sage sa
id, lowering her voice as she leaned closer, “that’s the kind of talk that will get you shunned. A little friendly advice? You’ve made it too close to graduation to screw it all up now.”

  Everett scrunched his eyebrows closer together. “I’m just saying—”

  “No.” Sage shook her head again, glancing around the room once more for good measure. “You want there to be a point to these classes? Don’t be average, and don’t say stuff like that ever again to anyone. Got it? You never said it. I didn’t hear it.”

  Frowning, she leaned back into the couch and clamped her mouth shut. This time, there was no room for misinterpretation. She’d been clear—they weren’t talking about this anymore.

  Everett stared at her hard for another moment, probably debating whether or not to say anything else, but Sage kept her eyes fixed squarely on her databook. She’d wipe this conversation during her next tech session. He should be thanking her, and he didn’t even realize it.

  Granted, her motives weren’t purely altruistic. His statements weren’t exactly treasonous, but they got a little too close to the line. A good, loyal citizen would’ve reported what he’d said instead of covering for him—the headmaster would consider her to be just as much in the wrong.

  Fortunately for him, she wasn’t actually a good or loyal citizen.

  Sage cleared her throat. “So, I figured I should take a few minutes to go over your notes, and then we can see if there are any gaps we still need to fill before organizing the presentation. Ok?”

  “Sure. If you really think that’s best,” he said pointedly.

  She looked at him sharply. “I do,” she ground out.

  The double meaning wasn’t lost on either of them, and an uncomfortable silence filled the space between them. Sage dropped her eyes, attempting to focus on the notes and ignore the disapproving look Everett was still shooting her direction.

  It wasn’t working. She kept forcing herself to reread the research, but she could still feel his eyes on her.

  Frustrated, she slammed her databook on the couch next to her and faced him, anger flashing over her face. “You can sulk all you want, but you know I’m right.”