by D. S. Murphy
There were murmurs from the crowd, even outrage. I was surprised not everyone had heard of the attack yet.
“Luckily, my own son was keeping a close eye on his chosen, and arrived in time to save the lives of all three girls after their drivers were killed. Fear not,” the king said. “We will discover the parties responsible for these attacks, and they will be punished harshly, whether human, or elite.”
He let the last few words sink in. I furled my brow in confusion. We were attacked by slagpaw, not rebels. Certainly not elite. And why would elite attack the chosen? Then I remembered the bearded man I’d seen just before the attack. What was he doing out in the woods, all alone? Was he involved somehow?
“Finally,” the king said, “on a more personal matter, I’d like to raise a toast to my son Damien. I had always hoped he’d embrace the covenant, and set a good example by choosing a human consort. Instead, he has resisted his duty for nearly a century. “So I’d like to raise a toast to Damien, and the first, and only, girl to catch his interest—Emily Sharrow!”
A spotlight focused on me and I was blinded by the heat and light. I squinted, then raised my hand above my eyes. There were cheers and applause, along with quite a bit of laughter. When my eyes adjusted, I could make out Damien, but he was frowning and looking at the table, even as elite from other tables came over to slap him on the back and congratulate him.
Just as the noise was dying down, I heard someone call out from the back.
“What’s wrong with her hands?” This unleashed a new round of laughter. My eyes focused on a dark-haired girl in a black dress, practically lounging in Nigel’s lap. Her cheeks were flushed with wine. Was she a chosen, too? If so, why wasn’t she on stage?
My cheeks flushed red, as I realized I’d left my gloves at the table after eating. The splotlight showed off my marks in stark detail, and somewhere a camera zoomed in close, feeding a live video to the massive screens behind us, so that everybody could see the jagged marks on my hands. My deformity.
I crossed my arms, hiding my marks beneath my arms.
Blood roared in my ears. I didn’t even hear the king dismiss us, and stood there stupidly until Jessica pushed me from the other side, shoving me towards the side stairs.
“Move it, freak,” she hissed.
I nearly stumbled down my stairs, fighting to keep the tears out of my eyes. I could already feel the wet mascara and eyeliner. Once at my table, I sank into my seat without making eye contact with anyone, and immediately reached for my gloves. Before I could pull them on, however, Damien’s hand lashed out and jerked them away. The gesture surprised me. Was he angry at me, or worse, embarrased? I looked around the room and caught Nigel glaring at me. I shifted until I was facing away from him, but the way my scalp and neck tingled, I could still feel him watching me. Damien was wrong. The walls might keep out the slagpaw, but I had a feeling there were far more dangerous things inside the citadel.
After the Presentation Dinner, we walked home in silence. Damien must have taken me the long way the first time to show me the lookout point for a full view of the citadel. The way home was much shorter. We passed over two of the covered bridges connecting the enormous towers of the main fortress, and then we were back in the building where we’d started.
Damien was pensive and silent next to me, which made me nervous. Was he embarrassed by me, now that I’d revealed myself to the other elite in the citadel? Was he regretting his choice so soon? I also couldn’t forget about what Penelope had said at dinner. Would Damien expect us to sleep together tonight, is that why he was walking me home? Although I knew eventually it would be expected of me, I wasn’t eager to share my bed with a total stranger.
At the door, I panicked. Was this my bedroom? Or was it his? I should have asked earlier.
“Do all the chosen live in this building?” I asked, trying to get at the truth.
“This whole apartment is yours, during the trial period.” He said. “I’ll be staying in the main palace, and most of the elite have a family home somewhere within the citadel.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. So at least we didn’t have to live together. Not yet.
“Well, I guess I should get out of this dress,” I said. I blushed when I realized how it sounded. Almost like an invitation. “And go to sleep,” I added quickly. “I’m exhausted.”
He nodded, but frowned, like there was something else he wanted to say. I stepped inside, holding the door. Then Damien leaned in close, and my heart pounded—I thought he was going to kiss me. My lips parted involuntarily, and I waited for him to close the distance between us. Instead, he whispered.
“Never hide who you are.” Then he handed me my gloves and walked away.
8
When Claire woke me the next morning, a breakfast tray was already waiting near the window, next to a steaming cup of coffee. I inhaled the scent gratefully, then took a sip. It was much stronger than what I was used to, the bitterness almost overwhelming. Claire added some fresh flowers to the vase at the window while I ate.
“Pretty,” I said. “Thank you.” She nodded and gave a nervous bow.
I opened the window and leaned out, my heart racing as I took in the drop. In the distance I could see the dark forest, the tops of pine trees and distant mountains. Somewhere behind those hills lay Algrave, the only home I’d ever known. But I wasn’t homesick. Directly below me was a dizzying fall to a small courtyard, with stairs and passageways and tunnels cutting in every direction, and citizens going about their business. It was already more exciting than anything I’d seen in Algrave. I noticed again the surprising lack of ash and took a deep breath of the fresh air.
Then I glanced at the metal bracelet on my wrist.
I’d gotten in the habit of checking it—the numbers had been dropping since yesterday afternoon.
“When you’re done eating, put these on,” Annette said, coming into the room and chasing Claire away. She placed a bundle of simple gray clothing on the bed. They looked soft and comfortable. I practically moaned when I pulled them on the pants and hooded sweatshirt. They were lightweight and soft against my skin.
“I know they aren’t fancy,” Annette said, “but the chosen all wear the same uniforms during training.”
“They’re perfect,” I said. “Can I wear these all the time?”
Annette’s jaw practically dropped, and I saw Claire bite back a grin.
“Absolutely not,” Annette said. “After training, you’ll come right back here and put on something more decent.” She gestured towards the dozens of dresses in the closet. “Now hurry up, you don’t want to be late on your first day.”
I finished the scambled eggs and toast and washed it down with the strong coffee. Then I wiped my mouth on my sleeve. Claire volunteered to bring me to class. I followed her down the hall, trying to get a better sense of my bearings. We went long passages and up a flight of stairs, before emerging in a central courtyard. Large sections of the walls had been replaced with thick glass, so we had a breathtaking panoramic view of the citadel, from the inside looking out. The top of the building was open, and we could see the gray clouds above us. The floor was covered in polished wood, that seemed almost warm beneath my feet. Several thin mattresses covered in green leather extended over the hardwood. In each corner was a tall rack, display a variety of dangerous looking weapons.
Claire nodded and left with another bow, disappearing the way she came. I stood awkwardly for a moment, as the other girls gawked at my wrists. Then I saw Mary. She smiled when she saw me, and joined her near the back of the room.
“I thought we were here to learn?” she said, gesturing at the weapons.
I shrugged my shoulders, just as a tall woman strode into the room. She wore a simple uniform like ours—pants and a tunic with a column of thick buttons—but hers were solid white, whereas ours were dull gray. I would have guessed she was elite, except for the metal bracelet on her wrist. She clapped her hands to get our attention, and gestured to the
largest mat in the center of the room. I took a seat next to Mary, then looked around as the other chosen joined the circle. My eyes found Jessica immediately. She seemed to have already gathered a new group of accomplices.
“You can call me Master Svboda,” the teacher said, clasping her hands behind her back. “For the next four weeks I will be helping to transform you into self-sufficient citizens of the citadel. We’ll be learning culture and etiquette, dance, combat, and fencing.”
“They never said anything about fighting,” one girl said behind me, raising her hand as she spoke.
“You are here to fulfill the covenant,” Master Svboda said. “So your husband always has blood nearby, and to remind the elite what being human is like. However, we learn combat for two reasons,” Master Svboda said. “First, because to keep up with your elite husbands, you’ll need to be strong, supple and resilient. In both mind and body. You will learn culture and history so that you won’t barrage your companion with inane questions; you will learn dance to gain grace and poise. Combat will strengthen your muscles and maintain your figure. However, there is another reason why it’s so important. You will never be as strong as an elite. They will always see you as weak, inferior. Which can make you a dangerous liability. On occasion, it is possible that your new husbands might want to take a trip, to show you more of the kingdom. Or, accompany you back to your compound to visit your own family. In the event of an attack, a momentary distraction could prove fatal for both of you. Targeting the chosen could also be a way of hurting an individual elite, and leaves them open to attack, even betrayal.”
“For this reason, many elites give their chosen added rations of elixir, to make them stronger and faster. Humans in the citadel follow the rules of renewal—a single drop per week. Enough to ward off sickness and disease. Chosen, as consorts of the elite, are to be elevated above commons in all manners. Capable, at the very least, of defending themselves so their husbands don’t have to worry about them. Against all threats.”
I gulped, remembering the rancid breath of the slagpaw. I hoped she wasn’t saying I’d have to fight one of those. Master Svboda went to a large, stainless steel vault built into the wall and pressed some kind of numbered keycode. The door opened, releasing white vapor. She reached in and pulled out a single vial of elixir—more than I’d ever seen in the same place. There was more than enough there to heal my mom completely. My pulse jumped at the thought.
Master Svboda poured elixir into a tiny crystal glass, then sipped it quickly. Her bracelet beeped and we watched the monitor climb. 3%, then 5%. Then 7%. There were murmurs from the other girls. I’d never seen anyone drink so much before. Master Svboda did a quick sprint, then turned and performed a twisting backflip, landing right in front of the weapons shelf. She grabbed two daggers and flung them towards the opposite side of the room. They smacked into a target on the far wall with remarkable accuracy. But she wasn’t finished. As soon as the daggers left her hand, she’d picked up what looked with a massive hammer. The end was a solid block of metal, larger than her head, yet she swung it around easily. She took a running jump, defying gravity and reaching twice her height into the air, and slammed the hammer into a large metal plaque fixed to the wall. The force of her swing made the ground tremble beneath us.
She grinned at us before continuing her lesson.
“Too much elixir, however, can be dangerous. You’ll be faster and stronger than you’ve ever been before. But if you lose control, you could hurt yourself, or others. That’s why all chosen wear the bracelets to measure blood levels. Try to keep them below 10%. More than that and the elixir will affect your critical thinking. Above 15%, and you may exhibit symptoms of mania. Insomnia, feelings of invulnerability, increased sexual desire, euphoria, grandiose delusions and paranoid range. This can make you rash and prone to incident. The legal limit for commons is two percent. Chosen will have access to more elixir, but for your own safety, at 20% the system will send your location to our security center, and team will be sent to collect you.”
“What happens if we drink too much?” Mary asked.
“The elixir will feed off your own blood cells and then burn out as you expel energy. At lower levels, the healing benefits of the elixir will regenerate fresh blood. Once you pass 30%, the elixir in your system will consume blood faster than it can be regenerated, draining your body of living cells, and you will die.” There was a long pause as we reflected on this. Only one person raised their hand.
“Is that how one becomes elite?” Jessica asked.
“We’ll save that lesson for another time,” Master Svboda said with a frown. “This week you’ll practice basic defensive stances. You will train and learn quickly. The elixir will allow you to learn much faster than you would normally, without burning out. It will also heal injuries. Now, pair up!”
I partnered with Mary, and we spent the next hour learning stretches and warmup activities. I couldn’t keep my eyes away from the weapons. There was an elegant curved bow I was desperate to get my hands on, with barbed arrows. It was the only thing I knew how to use. I’d practiced throwing my father’s hunting knife, but could only get it to stick into a tree half the time. And Master Svboda had thrown the daggers across the whole room, easily twice my best distance.
“I’ve never seen anyone move like that,” I said to Mary.
“I hadn’t either, until we were attacked by the slagpaw,” she whispered back.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. Then I remembered the mysterious bearded man. Had she seen him too?
“Just before Jessica’s car exploded,” Mary said, fixing me with her wide eyes. “I saw you, what you did. You moved like them. You saved her.”
“It was renewal,” I said. “I must have still had some elixir in my system.”
“One drop wouldn’t have let you move as fast as you did, or rip off that car door.”
“We had an unannounced visitor. King Richard came to our ceremony. He delivered the elixir himself,” I said, gesturing towards my wrist. Mary’s eyes widened. “I don’t know, it must have been stronger or something. Straight from the source, you know?”
We finished stretching, and Master Svboda made us sprint back and forth across the gymnasium. After twenty laps of that, we had to carry large blocks of stone from a pile on one end of the room, to a pile on the other. I thought I was in reasonably good shape, but by the end of class my legs and arms felt like jelly, and my lightweight outfit was dripping with sweat. The other girls looked in even worse shape. Two girls gave up completely and sank against the wall, breathing deeply. I was surprised Master Svboda didn’t yell at them to keep moving. She kept checking our wristbands, and when mine finally dropped to zero she nodded at me and pointed to a water cooler and a stack of cups. I drank the liquid greedily, spilling down the front of my shirt.
“Physical activity will drain the amount of elixir in your system,” she said. “The greater the physical effort, the more elixir you’ll use—which is why, if you’re in excellent health otherwise, a smaller amount of elixir will last longer and have greater effect.”
She raised the vial of elixir again, and this time dipped an eyedropper into the glass tube. She added two drops of the dark liquid into short glasses, and we watched the dark liquid unfurl into the water, turning it red.
“Elixir after a workout will help you recover faster, so we can spend more time training. You’ll get two drops a day from now on, and more after the first week. This amount should be enough to help you heal quickly, but you probably won’t notice any significant effects until we begin consuming more.”
I looked at Mary and raised my eyebrows. Two drops a day? That was fourteen a week—more elixir than I usually got in three months. I waited as the other girls pushed forward to grab a glass, then got in the back of the line. Jessica was one of the first. Mary handed me a glass and we drank it together. My aching muscles—which were screaming in pain moments ago—relaxed instantly. I was used to the effects of renewal, bu
t never after such a strenuous workout.
I thought class was over, but I was wrong. Master Svboda had us partner up again and taught us some basic combat: three common frontal attacks and how to block them. We practiced them slowly at first, making sure our stance was right, then got into a repetitive rhythm. As we felt more confident, the moves got faster. Master Svboda added in a kick, followed by a pull-and-sweep move that threw our partners to the ground.
I saw Mary smile after blocking my flurry of attacks, and realized I had a grin on my own face as well. I felt the jarring contact as I blocked her punches and chops with my forearms, but they didn’t hurt. I couldn’t feel anything, other than exhilaration. This was way more fun than I thought it was going to be.
Several hours flew by, and I was surprised when Master Svboda clapped her hands together and ended class. The light was much dimmer and I looked outside in surprise. The city around us through the large glass panes was painted in a soft glowing half-light; a kind of visible darkness that converged in long gray shadows across the courtyard below.
I watched Master Svboda put away the unused elixir and lock the storage case, fighting back a sense of longing. If I could get some and send it back to my mother, she’d be healed instantly. I tried to formulate some kind of plan, but the risk of getting caught was too great. When I came out of the classroom into the hall, Claire was there waiting for me, but she was backed into a corner, and looked frightened. Then I saw Nigel. My blood was still pumping with elixir, and anger flooded through my body.
“What the hell did you do to her?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
Nigel smirked and held his hands up in defense.
“Nothing she wasn’t asking for,” he said.
I grabbed Claire’s hand and pulled her towards me, but our way was blocked by another elite—I recognized him from the meadow. What were they even doing here?
“You remember Thomas, of course?” Nigel asked. My skin crawled, just being close to them again. The other girls streamed past us, but I felt trapped by Nigel’s gaze, almost like my feet were rooted to the floor.
