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The Selection Stories Collection

Page 55

by Kiera Cass

Aspen walked down the hall, seeming even bigger and taller than the last time I’d seen him.

  I looked around, seeing if we were alone. There were a few guards down the hall just past him, but they were out of earshot.

  “Hey,” I said, beckoning him over. I bit my lip, hoping that Aspen would be as able as I thought he was. “I need your help.”

  Without batting an eye, he responded. “Anything.”

  CHAPTER 12

  I WAS RIGHT. ASPEN HAD every corner of the palace memorized, and he knew exactly how to get us out of it.

  “Are you quite sure about this?” Maxon asked as we got dressed in my room the following evening.

  “We need to know what’s going on. I have no doubt we’ll be safe,” I assured him.

  We spoke through the cracked-open bathroom door as he dropped the pieces of his suit to the floor and climbed into the denim and cotton a Six would wear. Aspen’s clothes were going to be a bit big on Maxon, but they would do. Thankfully, Aspen had found a smaller guard to borrow clothes from for me, but even then I had to roll up the hem of the pants several times to find my feet.

  “You seem to trust this guard a lot,” Maxon commented, and I couldn’t figure out the tone he was using. Perhaps he was anxious.

  “My maids say he’s one of the best you have. And he got me to the safe room that time the Southerners came, when everyone was running late. He always looks ready to go, even when things are quiet. I have a good feeling about him. Trust me.”

  I heard the rustling of clothes as he continued. “How did you know he could get us out of the palace?”

  “I didn’t. I just asked.”

  “And he simply told you?” Maxon replied, astonished.

  “Well, I told him it was for you, of course.”

  He made a sound, something like a sigh. “I still don’t think you should come.”

  “I’m going, Maxon. Are you done yet?”

  “Yes. I need to get my shoes on.”

  I opened the door, and after a quick once-over, Maxon started laughing. “I’m sorry. I’m used to seeing you in gowns.”

  “You look a bit different when you’re not in a suit yourself.” And he did, but not in any way that was close to comical. Even though Aspen’s clothes were too big, Maxon looked good in plain old denim. The shirt had short sleeves, and I got a peek at those strong arms I’d only ever seen the one time in the safe room.

  “These pants are far too heavy. Why are you so partial to jeans?” he asked, remembering my request from my very first day in the palace.

  I shrugged. “I just like them.”

  He smiled at me, shaking his head a bit. He walked over to my closet, not asking if it was all right to open it. “We need something to hold your pants up or it’s going to be a very scandalous evening. Well, more so than it already is.”

  Maxon pulled out a dark-red sash and returned to me with it, lacing it through my belt loops.

  I couldn’t say why, but this felt meaningful. My heart pounded, and for a minute I wondered if he could hear it shouting how much I loved him. If so, he ignored it in favor of the business at hand.

  “Listen,” he said, making a little knot in the sash, “what we’re doing is very dangerous. If something happens, I want you to run. Don’t even try to get back to the palace. Find a family who will hide you through the night.”

  Maxon stepped back and looked into my worried eyes. I tilted my head. “Right now, asking a family to hide me is almost as dangerous as facing the rebels. People might be upset that we girls aren’t leaving the competition.”

  “If the article Celeste showed you is right, then people might be proud of you.”

  I wanted to tell Maxon I disagreed, but a knock at the door interrupted us. He went over to answer it, and quickly Aspen and a second guard walked into my dimly lit room.

  “Your Majesty,” Aspen said with a small bow. “Lady America has informed me that you need to get outside the palace walls.”

  Maxon sighed deeply. “Yes. And I hear you’re the man to help me. Officer . . .” He looked for Aspen’s badge. “Leger.”

  Aspen nodded. “It’s not very difficult, actually. The secrecy might be more of an issue than getting out in the first place.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, I have to assume there’s a reason for you to be doing this at night, without the king’s knowledge. If we’re specifically asked,” Aspen said, glancing over to the other guard, “I don’t think we could lie to him.”

  “And I wouldn’t ask you to. I’m hoping to be able to reveal this to my father soon enough, but, for tonight, discretion is imperative.”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem.” Aspen hesitated. “I don’t think the lady should go.”

  As if he’d won the argument, Maxon looked at me with a face that said See!

  I stood as tall as I could manage. “I’m not just going to sit here. I’ve been chased by rebels once already, and I’m fine.”

  “But those weren’t Southerners,” Maxon countered.

  “I’m going,” I said. “And we’re wasting time.”

  “To be clear, no one agrees with you.”

  “To be clear, I don’t care.”

  Sighing, Maxon pulled the knit hat over his hair. “So what do we need to do?”

  “The plan is pretty simple,” Aspen said decisively. “Twice a week, a truck is sent out for groceries. Sometimes the kitchen staff simply falls short of the needs for the week, so the truck goes out again to pick up whatever’s lacking. Usually people from the kitchen go, along with a few guards.”

  “And no one will suspect?” I asked.

  Aspen shook his head. “These runs are often done at night. If the cook says we need more eggs for breakfast, well, we’d better go before sunup.”

  Maxon ran over to his suit pants, rummaging through his pocket. “I did manage to get a note out to August. He said we should meet him at this address.” Maxon handed the paper to Aspen, who shared the note with the other guard.

  “You know where this is?” Aspen asked.

  The guard—a dark-skinned young man whose name tag I finally noticed said AVERY—nodded. “Not the best part of town, but close enough to the food storage area that we shouldn’t raise any alarm.”

  “All right,” Aspen said. He looked at me. “Tuck your hair beneath your hat.”

  I grabbed my hair and twisted it up, hoping it would all fit beneath the knit hat Aspen had provided. I pushed up the last strands and looked to Maxon. “Well?”

  He choked on a laugh. “Great.”

  I gave him a playful punch in the arm before turning to follow Aspen’s next instructions.

  I saw the hurt in his eyes to see me so casual with Maxon. And maybe it went beyond that. We’d hid in a tree house for two years, but here I was wandering into the streets, past curfew, with the man the Southern rebels wanted to see dead more than anyone.

  This moment was a slap in the face of everything we were.

  And even though I wasn’t in love with Aspen, he still mattered to me, and I didn’t want to cause him pain.

  Before Maxon probably even noticed, Aspen straightened his face. “Follow us.”

  Slipping into the hallway, Aspen and Officer Avery took us down the stairway that led to the massive safe room reserved for the royal family. Instead of heading toward the great steel doors, we moved quickly across the length of the palace, where we ascended another spiral staircase. I had assumed we would be heading to the first floor, but we exited into the kitchen.

  Immediately, I was hit with billowing warmth and the sweet smell of bread rising. For a split second, it felt like home. I expected something clinical, professional, like the big bakeries we had in Carolina on the nice end of town. But there were huge wooden tables with vegetables laid out, ready to be prepped. Notes were left in places, reminding whoever was on duty next of what had to be done. All in all, the kitchen seemed cozy, even for as big as it was.

  “Keep your heads down,” Officer A
very whispered to Maxon and me.

  We studied the floor as Aspen called out. “Delilah?”

  “Hold on, honey!” someone shouted back. Her voice was rich and had the slight drawl of a southern accent that I’d heard sometimes back in Carolina. Heavy footsteps came around the corner, but I avoided looking up to see the woman’s face. “Leger, you cutie, how’ve you been?”

  “Been good. Just heard there was a delivery to pick up, and I was wondering if you had a list for me.”

  “Delivery? Not that I know of.”

  “That’s funny. I was sure.”

  “Might as well drive out,” she said, no hint of worry or suspicion in her voice. “Don’t want to miss something.”

  “Good point. Shouldn’t be too long,” Aspen answered. I heard the swift sound of him catching a set of keys. “See you later, Delilah. If you’re asleep, I’ll put the keys on the hook.”

  “Okay, honey. You come see me soon. It’s been too long.”

  “Will do.”

  Aspen was already walking, and we followed him wordlessly. I smiled to myself. The woman, Delilah, had a deeper voice, mature sounding. But even she was sweet on Aspen.

  We walked around a corner and up a wide incline to a set of broad doors. Aspen undid the lock and pushed the doors open. Waiting in the dark was a large black truck.

  “There’s nothing to hold on to, but I think you two should get in the back,” Avery said. I looked at the large cargo space. At least we wouldn’t be recognized.

  I went around to the back, where Aspen was already opening the doors. “My lady,” he said, offering me his hand, which I took. “Your Majesty,” he added as Maxon passed, refusing assistance.

  There were a couple of crates inside and a shelving unit along one wall, but otherwise it was an empty metal box. Maxon passed me, surveying the area.

  “Come here, America,” he said, pointing to the corner. “We’ll wedge ourselves against the shelf.”

  “We’ll try to drive smoothly,” Aspen called.

  Maxon nodded. Aspen gave us both a solemn look before shutting the doors.

  In the pitch-dark, I pushed myself against Maxon.

  “Are you scared?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Me neither.”

  But I was pretty sure we were both lying.

  CHAPTER 13

  I COULDN’T TELL HOW LONG we’d been traveling, but I was very aware of every move the giant truck made. Maxon, in an effort to keep us stable, had pushed his back against the shelf and braced a leg across me on the wall, caging me in. But even with that, we both slid a bit against the metal floor at every turn.

  “I don’t like not knowing where I am,” Maxon said, trying to secure us again.

  “Have you ever been out in Angeles before?”

  “Only in a car,” he confessed.

  “Is it strange that I feel better going into a den of rebels than I did when I had to entertain the women of the Italian royal family?”

  Maxon laughed. “Only you.”

  It was hard talking over the rumble of the engine and the squeal of the wheels, so we were quiet for a while. In the dark, the sounds felt bigger. I inhaled deeply, trying to focus myself, and noticed a hint of coffee in the air. I couldn’t tell if it was some lingering scent in the truck or if we were passing a shop on the road. After what felt like a very long time, Maxon put his lips to my ear.

  “I wish you were safe at home, but I’m really glad you’re here.” I laughed quietly. I doubted he could hear it, but he probably felt it, we were so close. “Promise me that you’ll run though.”

  I decided that I’d be of no help to Maxon if something really bad happened anyway. I searched and put my mouth by his ear. “I promise.”

  We went over a pretty jarring bump, and he grabbed me. I felt our noses brush in the dark, and the urge to kiss him came unexpectedly fast. Though our kiss on the roof had only been three days ago, it felt like an eternity. He held me close, and I could feel his breath on my skin. It was coming; I was sure of it.

  Maxon used his nose, nudging at my cheek, bringing our lips closer together. The same way I could smell coffee and hear every tiny squeak in the dark, the lack of light made me focus on the clean scent that hung around Maxon, feel the pressure of his fingers moving up my neck to the wisps of hair peeking out from under my cap.

  In the second before our lips touched, the truck came to an abrupt stop, flinging us forward. I knocked my head against the wall, and I was pretty sure I felt Maxon’s teeth against my ear.

  “Ow!” he exclaimed, and I felt him adjusting his position in the dark. “Are you hurt?”

  “No. My hair and the hat took most of it.” If I hadn’t wanted that kiss so badly, I would have laughed.

  As soon as we’d stopped, we started moving slowly in reverse. After a few seconds, the truck halted again and the engine cut off. Maxon switched positions, and it felt as if he was ducking low in a crouch, facing the door. I got into a similar position as one of Maxon’s hands come back to protect me, just in case.

  The light of the streetlamp coming into the cabin was shocking, and I squinted against it as someone climbed into the back of the truck.

  “We’re here,” said Officer Avery. “Follow me closely.”

  Maxon stood and extended a hand to me. He let go to hop out of the truck, then reached up to help me down and immediately slid his hand back into mine. The thing I noticed right away was the large brick wall cornering us in the alley, followed by the stinging smell of something rotting. Aspen was standing in front of us, looking around intently, a gun held low in his hand.

  He and Avery started moving toward the back entrance of the building, and we kept close to them. The walls surrounding us were high and reminded me of the apartment buildings back home with their fire escapes snaking down the sides, though this didn’t seem like an area where people lived. Aspen knocked on the grime-covered door and waited. It cracked open, a small chain there to protect whoever was inside. But I saw August’s eyes before the door was quickly shut again. The next time, it opened wide, and August ushered in all of us.

  “Hurry,” he said quietly.

  In the shadowy room was a younger boy and Georgia. I could see she was just as anxious as we were, and I couldn’t stop myself from bolting across the room to embrace her. She held me back, and I was happy to find I’d acquired an unexpected friend.

  “Were you followed?” she asked.

  Aspen shook his head. “No. But you should be quick.”

  Georgia pulled me over to a small table, and Maxon sat next to me, with August and the younger boy beside him.

  “How bad is it?” Maxon asked. “I have a feeling my father is keeping the truth from me.”

  August gave a surprised shrug. “As best we can tell, the numbers are low. The Southerners are doing their typical destruction, but as far as the attacks on Twos specifically, it looks like it’s less than three hundred people.”

  I gasped. Three hundred people? How could that be deemed low?

  “America, it’s not that bad, all things considered,” Maxon comforted me, taking my hand again.

  “He’s right,” Georgia said, her face warm. “It could have been so much worse.”

  “It’s what I would expect from them: starting at the top and working their way down. We’re guessing they’ll pick it up before too long,” August interjected. “It looks like the attacks are still isolated on the Twos, but we’re watching and will alert you if or when that changes. We’ve got allies in every province, and they’re all trying to keep watch. But there’s only so much they can do without exposing themselves, and we all know what would happen if they did.”

  Maxon nodded soberly. They’d die, of course.

  “Should we cave?” Maxon suggested. I looked over at him, surprised.

  “Trust us,” Georgia said. “They’re not going to get any better if you give in.”

  “But there must be something more we can do,” Maxon insisted.<
br />
  “You’ve already done something pretty empowering. Well, she did,” August said, dipping his head in my direction. “From what we’re able to tell, farmers are keeping their axes with them if they leave their fields, seamstresses walk the street with scissors clutched in their hands, and you’ll see Twos parading around with disarming spray. No matter the caste, everyone seems to have found some way to arm themselves, just in case. Your people don’t want to live in fear, and they’re not. They’re fighting back.”

  I wanted to cry. For maybe the first time in all of the Selection, I’d done something right.

  Maxon squeezed my hand, proud. “That’s a comfort,” he said. “Still, it doesn’t feel like enough.”

  I nodded. I was so happy the public wasn’t rolling over, but there had to be a way to stop this once and for all.

  August sighed. “We’ve wondered if there was a way for us to attack them. They’re not fighting with any sort of training—they just go after people. Our supporters are nervous about being identified, but they’re everywhere. And they might be the best source for a surprise assault.

  “In many ways, we’re already an army of sorts, but we’re essentially unarmed. We can’t possibly beat the Southerners when the majority of our forces fight with bricks or rakes.”

  “You want weapons?”

  “Wouldn’t hurt.”

  Maxon considered this. “There are things you can do that we simply can’t from the palace. But I don’t like the idea of sending any of my people on a mission to take out these savages. Certainly they would die.”

  “That’s possible,” August confessed.

  “There’s also the small issue of me not being able to guarantee you won’t use any weapons I give you against me eventually.”

  August snorted. “I don’t know how to make you believe that we’re on your side, but it’s true. All we’ve ever wanted was to see an end to the castes, and we’re prepared to support you to that end. I have no intentions of ever harming you, Maxon, and I think you know that.” He and Maxon shared a very long look. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here now.”

  “Your Majesty,” Aspen said. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but there are some of us who would like to see the Southern rebels gone as much as you would. I would personally volunteer to train anyone in something more along the lines of hand-to-hand combat.”

 

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