by Aimee Carter
“Good evening, Mother,” said Celia. “Daxton.”
Knox echoed her greeting, and they both looked at me expectantly. I swallowed, wishing I’d paid more attention in the lessons about protocol. These people were supposed to be my family, my uncle and grandmother and mother and—fiancé, so bowing wasn’t necessary. But a polite hello probably was.
“Good evening,” I said, forcing a small smile. This seemed to be enough, and they all unfolded their napkins to lay them across their laps. Before this, when I was Kitty instead of the strange fusion of myself and Lila, there was no point using a napkin like that. Nothing I owned was expensive enough to warrant protection from something as simple as broth or water. Now, with the silk I wore and the red wine in my glass, I wished I had a bib.
“We’ve missed you, Lila,” said Augusta in a clipped voice, and I tensed. Underneath the table, Knox set his hand over mine and squeezed it. I didn’t dare look at him, unsure if he meant to reassure me or if this was a natural gesture between him and Lila. “How was your vacation?”
Right. Our cover story—not a lie, really, except the fact that the real Lila had died on the slopes. “Cold,” I said as servants dressed in black began to set dishes in front of us. Lettuce with bits of chicken and drizzled sauce that made my stomach turn, but remembering my training, I picked up the fork farthest from the plate and nibbled on a piece. It tasted as bad as it smelled.
“And?” said Augusta, eyebrow raised. Clearly she expected something more, but I’d never been there, so how was I supposed to report on an unfamiliar place? Lie, I supposed. Convincingly. A little practice wouldn’t hurt.
“Skiing was enjoyable,” I said in Lila’s prim accent. She used a more common dialect when she spoke to the crowds, but I wasn’t supposed to know about those speeches. “I spent so much time on the slopes that I can hardly walk, but nights at the lodge were relaxing.”
This seemed to satisfy Augusta, because Daxton spoke up next. “How are plans for the wedding coming along?”
I didn’t even want to think about it, let alone talk about it, and thankfully Celia jumped in and saved me. “The plans are coming along nicely, thank you for asking,” she said, and I noticed she hadn’t touched her salad. “Everything is on schedule for New Year’s Eve. I hear you’re going on another hunting expedition tomorrow.”
“I am, and I was thinking of taking Lila with me, since it’s only a day trip.”
Beside me, Knox tensed. “I’m sure she could use a few days of rest—”
“No, she should go,” said Celia. She stabbed her salad with enough force to chip the delicate china, though she still didn’t take a bite. “It’d be good for her to see what you do to amuse yourself.”
Knox’s hand tightened around mine. Hunting wouldn’t be so bad, though. The idea of spending the day with Daxton made my skin crawl, but he needed to see that I was willing to do whatever he wanted, and this was the perfect opportunity.
“I agree,” said Augusta. “She should go. Perhaps it will help her better understand how things work.” She eyed me over her wineglass, and I hastily looked down at my plate.
With each new course came questions, and I answered them as best I could. A look from Celia or a squeeze of the hand from Knox told me when I’d made a mistake, and I backtracked quickly.
Augusta and Daxton brought up everything from plans for Lila’s eighteenth birthday celebration in December to her last charity event, where she had worn a dress made by an up-and-coming designer whose name I’d never heard. With each answer I gave, Augusta either nodded or scowled, and I hung on her every gesture, too nervous to eat much. Most of it looked inedible anyway, and anything that tasted good came in such small portions that it hardly made a dent.
By the time a servant set the main course in front of me, I was starving. My mouth watered at the scent of seasoned beef that reminded me of Nina’s cooking, but as I picked up my knife to begin cutting, I remembered that Lila didn’t eat red meat. Maybe Daxton’s plan was to starve me to death instead.
Despite my growling stomach, I set my knife down, and once it became clear I wasn’t going to eat it, my plate was replaced with some kind of vegetable and pork in a sauce that smelled even worse than the salad. But Augusta nodded, and it was worth it.
After what felt like a dozen courses and more questions than I could count, the servants cleared our dessert plates. Augusta set her napkin back on the table and stood. Everyone followed suit, and I mimicked their actions, lacing my fingers together as I waited for the verdict.
“Well,” she said, her focus now entirely on me. “I am pleased you have finally decided to rejoin us, Lila. Do enjoy your hunting trip with Daxton tomorrow, and I shall see you back in Washington in the evening. Your schedule will be sent to you, and I expect you to follow it to the letter.”
For a second I thought I’d heard her wrong. I couldn’t possibly be ready, not this quickly—I’d slipped up at least seven times that I’d noticed, and surely there had been other mistakes I hadn’t realized I’d made.
But I’d heard her right. After only eleven days of training, I was expected to step into a pair of the most closely watched shoes in the country, and I had to be flawless.
Everyone in the room stared at me, waiting for a response. I nodded tightly as my dinner threatened to come back up. “Of course.”
Knox took my arm again and led me out of the dining room. Celia followed closely behind. Once we’d turned the corner, he sighed with relief and loosened his grip.
“I passed,” I whispered. “I actually passed.”
“Yes,” said Celia dully as she strode past us. “Congratulations.”
There was no warmth or pleasure in her voice, only cold hatred I didn’t understand. Instead of coming back to my room with us, she hurried down another hallway, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. I looked up at Knox, expecting some kind of explanation, but he shook his head and forced a small smile.
“Congratulations,” he echoed. “I’d enjoy tonight if I were you. It’s the last chance you’ll have to be yourself.”
Without warning, my stomach lurched, and I took off toward the nearest bathroom. After slamming the door, I sank to my knees next to the toilet and hid my face in my hands. On the other side, Knox knocked and called out, and I slid the lock into place.
The moment I stepped out of the Stronghold, any part of me that was still Kitty Doe would cease to exist, and I would be Lila until the day they didn’t need me anymore. And when that happened, all I would be was dead.
VI
Hunting
Celia shook me awake the next morning. Despite her chilliness the day before, she fussed over me as if I really were her daughter. I stood awkwardly in the middle of the bedroom while she dressed me in warm bundles of luxurious fur and leather, clothes I wouldn’t have been allowed to touch as a III, let alone wear.
“Don’t upset Daxton,” she said. “Do exactly what he tells you no matter what you see. Don’t talk back, and whatever you do, don’t step off the platform. Promise me.”
I had no idea what she was talking about. “I promise.”
Celia stepped back and eyed her handiwork. “You’re my responsibility now, and I won’t let anything happen to you if I can help it. Those speeches you saw...” She paused. “Lila was doing a good thing. A great thing.”
“I know,” I said. Probably better than Celia did.
“If you want...” She hesitated. “You can continue the work she did. All the good that Daxton wants to die with her—it doesn’t have to, and that’s completely within your power. No one else’s.”
Was she joking? This had to be some sort of trap—another test to see if I would agree to commit treason. I watched her warily, refusing to say a word.
“I will only ask you this once,” said Celia. “You don’t have to give
me an answer immediately. I want you to think about it. You have no reason to trust me, and I don’t expect you to, but I swear on everything I am and everything I believe that I am on your side. Do you understand?”
Again I nodded. Whether or not I trusted her was irrelevant; I had no choice but to do what Daxton told me.
“Good.” Her expression softened, and she reached toward me as if she were going to set her hands on my shoulders, but she faltered and let them fall back to her sides. “Have you ever played chess, Kitty?”
I eyed her. What did a board game have to do with this? “Not really.”
“You and I should play sometime. I think you would like it,” she said. “It’s a game of strategy, mostly. The strong pieces are in the back row, while the weak pieces—the pawns—are all in the front, ready to take the brunt of the attack. Because of their limited movement and vulnerability, most people underestimate them and only use them to protect the more powerful pieces. But when I play, I protect my pawns.”
“Why?” I said, not entirely sure where this conversation was going. “If they’re weak, then what’s the point?”
“They may be weak when the game begins, but their potential is remarkable. Most of the time, they’ll be taken by the other side and held captive until the end of the game. But if you’re careful—if you keep your eyes open and pay attention to what your opponent is doing, if you protect your pawns and they reach the other side of the board, do you know what happens then?”
I shook my head, and she smiled.
“Your pawn becomes a queen.” She touched my cheek, her fingers cold as ice. “Because they kept moving forward and triumphed against impossible odds, they become the most powerful piece in the game. Never forget that, all right? Never forget the potential one solitary pawn has to change the entire game.”
I toyed with the zipper on my coat. I understood what she meant, of course, but I couldn’t play the game she wanted me to no matter how many promises she made. I wasn’t her pawn. I was Daxton’s. And she didn’t want me to reach her side of the board.
“What’s going to happen today?” I said, and she pressed her lips together.
“I don’t know, not for sure. Just keep your head down and your mouth shut, and you’ll be all right.”
She did know. She just didn’t want to tell me. “I will. Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me,” she said, and for a moment she turned away. When she faced me again, her eyes were rimmed with red. “Right. I’ll take you to the jet, and I’ll be back in Washington by the time you arrive tonight.”
Waiting for my answer, no doubt, but I already knew what it was going to be. I wasn’t impersonating Lila to do the same things she’d done and die the same way she had. Daxton was in charge, and as long as I followed his lead, as long as I played his game, I’d be safe. As long as he still needed me, I would be alive. That was what mattered, not Lila’s speeches or Celia’s need for revenge. No matter what good they were trying to do, the Harts had ruined enough of my life already. I wasn’t going to get involved in some twisted game between them regardless of what I believed. Because above all, I was one person, and all I had was my life. I wasn’t going to do anything to give that up again.
We reached the elevator a few minutes later, and as it rose, I watched Celia in the mirrored wall. What if it was a trap? What if Celia or Daxton saw my not giving an answer as a sign that I could turn?
I already knew what it was going to be anyway. There was no point in waiting to tell her.
“Celia?” I said, steeling myself against her anger. “What happened to your daughter is terrible, and I don’t blame you for wanting to do—whatever it is you want to do to Daxton. But I can’t help you. I’m sorry.”
Instead of getting upset, Celia met my gaze in the mirror, her expression impassive. “All right. If you change your mind, you know where I’ll be.”
“I’m not going to,” I said. No matter how bad I felt for her, staying alive for Benjy was much more important. “Can I ask you something?”
“If you must.”
I hesitated. “Why didn’t you kill Daxton when you found out what he’d done to Lila?”
For a long moment, she said nothing. At last she met my eyes, and to my surprise, she wore a small smile. “Who says I didn’t try?”
I didn’t respond. Whether she’d tried or not, I didn’t see how she could sit across a table from the people who had murdered her daughter and act like nothing had happened. I had a hard enough time looking Daxton in the eye, knowing he’d had Tabs killed.
The elevator door opened to reveal the rooftop, and a blast of cold air hit my face. It was still so early that the sky was painted a warm rainbow of colors, and something tugged inside me. On clear mornings, Benjy and I would climb onto the roof of our group home to watch the sunrise, and it made each day a little more bearable. Now all it did was remind me of what I would never have again.
Daxton was waiting for us in front of the jet, wearing his usual winning smile. “I’ll have her back by sunset,” he promised, taking my arm from Celia. She scowled, and before I could say goodbye, Daxton ushered me up a narrow flight of steps and into the interior of the jet.
I’d never been on a plane before, and my stomach flip-flopped nervously. It was larger than I’d imagined from the outside. White leather armchairs were scattered throughout the cabin, and three of them faced a fireplace dancing with colorful flames that almost looked real. Other seats surrounded a table firmly attached to the floor, and a huge television screen covered a wall halfway down the length of the plane. Beside it was a narrow passageway that led to another door.
“What’s that?” I said, peering down the corridor.
“A bedroom,” said Daxton offhandedly, as if having a place to sleep in the middle of the sky was no big deal. It probably wasn’t to him, since he’d grown up with this kind of luxury. Never mind the fact that it could undoubtedly have kept the entire population of the Heights in food and clothing meant for VIs for the rest of their lives.
No, I couldn’t think like that—the way Celia wanted me to, the way Lila had before she’d been killed. I wasn’t them. I hadn’t been born into endless privilege, and I was making the right decision. Sticking with Daxton would buy me enough time to contact Benjy and come up with a plan to get out of this mess. At the first hint that Daxton was done with me, I would disappear, and all of this would be nothing more than a bad memory.
Daxton settled into an armchair and focused on a glowing screen embedded into the table, pointedly ignoring me. As the jet took off, I gazed out the window, enchanted. I’d never seen this kind of sky before—endless and blue, stretching on for miles over mountaintops. For a moment, I couldn’t wait to tell Benjy about it. Until I remembered I’d be lucky if I ever spoke to him again.
I fell asleep an hour into the flight, and by the time I woke up, we’d landed. I refused Daxton’s arm as we descended the stairs and stepped out onto the runway, and after my eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, I saw red and orange trees in every direction.
“Where are we?” I said. There was a small cluster of buildings nearby, but otherwise it looked like we’d landed in the middle of a clearing in the woods.
Daxton beamed and spread his arms open wide. “Welcome to the best hunting grounds in the entire country.”
What made hunting grounds good or bad, I had no idea, but I didn’t ask. Beckoning for me to follow, Daxton stepped forward to meet a group of uniformed guards heading our way. Each carried a pistol, and my pulse quickened.
This place was different from the market, I reminded myself. I was Lila now, and none of the guards would dare point one of those at a Hart. The only person I had to worry about was the one standing beside me.
“Your Excellency. Miss Hart,” said the man I assumed was the head guard. He wore a white uniform to the others’ b
lack, and he bowed deeply when he reached me and Daxton. “We have arranged for your visit, and your usual vehicle is ready. Your requested game has been herded into Zone Four, as well.”
“Fantastic, Mercer,” said Daxton, clapping the head guard on the back. “Is there anyone else here today?”
“Minister Bradley, sir,” he said. “He is in the lodge.”
The name Bradley stirred up a memory, and it took me a few seconds to remember he was the mustached man who’d lost the auction. No doubt I wouldn’t have wound up a Hart if he’d won.
“Come, Lila,” said Daxton, taking me by the elbow. Instead of heading to the nearest building, we walked through the crisp autumn air toward a smaller structure across the asphalt.
Once I was sure the guards weren’t close enough to hear us, I said quietly, “Do all the ministers come here to hunt?”
“Yes,” said Daxton, not bothering to keep his voice down. “You remember from our visit last year, of course, when Minister Creed hunted with us.”
Minister Creed. Knox’s father. “Of course,” I said as we entered the second building. So Lila had hunted with him before. If she’d survived it, maybe I would, too.
The building was full of circular metal platforms with railings, and connected to them were vehicles that looked like cars with the top half missing. As I tried to figure out what it was for, Daxton greeted another man dressed in a uniform with different shades of green splashed across the fabric. Everyone knew who Daxton was, naturally, but the stunning part was that he seemed to know who they were, too.
“Your weapon, sir. Fully loaded,” said the man dressed in green, and he handed Daxton a rifle. He didn’t bother to offer me one.
“Ah, perfect. Lila, after you,” said Daxton, gesturing for me to step up onto the circular platform. He followed, closing the gate behind us. With one hand he held his rifle, and with the other he gripped the railing. I hung on as well, and the platform hummed to life and floated off the ground.
