by Dylan Steel
“No!” Penelope’s cry came out as a strained garble as the men walked away. Her eyes widened. She clapped her hands over her mouth.
Sage’s eyes darted to her friend, glaring at her in shock with a mixture of anger and fear. Then she saw the same surprise scrawled across Penelope’s face. Her expression softened. Penelope hadn’t even meant to yell—it had just slipped out.
Sage looked back at the alley. The cry had drawn his attention, and the man had spotted them. Now he knew they’d seen everything.
He swore loudly. His voice echoed off the buildings on either side of them. He took a step toward the girls.
Not wanting to stick around to see if he came after them next, Sage bolted. Her hands reached out to her side desperately, half-pulling, half-pushing Penelope along with her. They dashed to the end of the building and hurtled themselves into the middle of the play yard to hide in the crowd of children. By some miracle, their emergence from the side of the building went unnoticed by the yard monitors.
Peering out from behind a set of large wooden beams, Penelope and Sage watched as the man ran halfway out of the alley and then froze. They were too far away to hear anything he said now. His face contorted into a bitter rage as he ground his fist into his palm, eyes scanning the yard.
He muttered something under his breath, then he turned and disappeared back down the alley.
The two girls exhaled in relief simultaneously. Penelope met Sage’s gaze. Both their eyes were filled with horror. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, a heavy weight gathered in the pit of Sage’s stomach. She was fairly certain they’d just witnessed one of the mysterious disappearances that everyone had been talking about.
10. TRUTH
A chilly wind whipped across Sage’s upturned face. Winter had settled over Eprah. She ran her tongue over her lips. They got chapped far too easily this time of year.
She stole a glance at Penelope before turning her attention back up to the stars. They’d been sitting on the roof without uttering a word for at least fifteen minutes. The cold had eaten through the thin fabric of her pants almost instantly. At this point, the bottom half of her was numb enough to make her question her ability to walk.
Despite their original plan, it had actually taken them two weeks to manage to sneak out here. In that time, neither of them said anything about the abduction they’d witnessed in the alley. Their silence was instinctive. Or maybe it had been learned out of necessity during their time at the Institution. Either way, no good would come from talking about it to anyone else, and they both understood that.
“I keep seeing her face.” Penelope’s whisper finally broke the silence.
“Me too.” Sage gritted her teeth. She wished she could get as far away from this place as the stars were.
“What do you think they’ll do with her?” Penelope’s voice cracked with worry. “Maybe—could you talk to Mr. Walsh about it? Is there something he could do to help her? I mean, if he’s actually Lawless…” her voice trailed off.
Sage snapped her head back down and gaped at her. “You don’t know.”
“Know what?” Penelope furrowed her brows.
“Pen, the Lawless aren’t taking people.”
“Yes, they are. We both saw them.”
“No.” Sage shook her head. “I mean, yes, people are being taken, but it’s not the Lawless’s fault.”
The color drained from Penelope’s face. She looked at Sage in disgust. “What are you saying? You’re defending them? You saw what they did to that woman. How scared she was—”
“Pen,” Sage interrupted, “that woman was Lawless. The men were working for Eprah.”
“What? No. On Founders’ Day they said—”
“Mr. Gaztok said, you mean?” Sage laughed ruefully. “Now there’s a trustworthy guy.”
A sudden realization spread over Penelope’s face. “You said yes, didn’t you?”
“What?” Sage crinkled her nose.
“Mr. Walsh asked you if you wanted to be Lawless. And you said yes,” Penelope’s whisper was almost indiscernible over the breeze humming in Sage’s ears. “How else would you know all this?”
Sage hesitated. “Well, doesn’t it make sense?”
“No, it doesn’t.” Penelope shook her head.
“They lie to us all the time,” Sage said pointedly.
“But not about everything. And you sure sound confident that the woman was Lawless. How else could you know that?”
Sage bit her lip. “You can’t tell anyone. About the disappearances or me.”
“Eprah’s name, Sage.” Penelope’s breathing became shallow. “You do realize you’re risking both our lives? Me knowing and not saying anything looks just as bad to them.”
“I thought you agreed that Eprah was doing things wrong,” Sage croaked.
“I-I do.” Penelope dropped her eyes to the ground. Her voice was unsteady. “But there’s a big difference between thinking they’re wrong and acting out against them.”
“They’ll never know you know.” Sage’s reassurance came with an air of authority that she wasn’t sure she fully believed. “We just have to be careful. Most places aren’t safe to talk about this stuff.”
Penelope snorted. “That’s an understatement. We’re out here freezing our butts off just to have a real conversation.”
Silence settled between them again. Sage pushed some gravel around with her finger as she tried to steady her pounding heart.
“You’re not going to say anything, are you?”
Her question was greeted with more silence. Penelope didn’t look at her right away, but when she did, her eyes were glossy with tears.
“I’ve told you before that I’d keep your secrets. And you know that I don’t think Eprah’s as great as I used to. But this…” she trailed off.
Suddenly, her surroundings gave way, and Sage felt only heat. The cold had been eaten away in an instant by fear. What if Penelope told someone about her? About Mr. Walsh? That they knew the truth about the disappearances?
Penelope let out a heavy sigh. “I can’t sit on the sidelines for this one, Sage.” A tear fell from her eye.
Sage tried to swallow, but her throat had gone dry. “O-ok.” Her head started to spin. She thought she might pass out. “Just give me a chance to warn Mr. Walsh. Please. They’ll kill him if I don’t.”
“No.” Penelope shook her head. “You don’t understand. I’m not going to turn you in.”
“You’re not?” Sage said weakly. She could barely hear her own voice over the pounding of her heart in her ears.
“Sage. We’re friends. I wouldn’t do that.” Penelope looked hurt. “What I’m saying is…” she took a deep breath before continuing, “…they’ve hit a new low. They can’t just—they can’t take people. Not like that.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I keep seeing her face. She was so scared. And I see her face every time I close my eyes.” She shook her head. “They can’t.”
Anger flashed behind Penelope’s eyes. “I’m saying I want in. Whatever you’re doing, I want to be a part of it.”
Sage’s jaw dropped. “Are you sure?”
“Are you?” Penelope’s shoulders drooped. “I mean, I’ve always wanted to do the right thing. And for a long time, I thought Eprah was the right thing.” She clenched her jaw. “But it’s not. It can’t be. Not when it does this.”
Sage nodded slowly. “Ok. I’ll tell him. It could be awhile though,” she said. “I haven’t—”
Just then, the door to the roof clanged open.
Not again.
The two girls scrambled to their feet in a panic, ducking behind the nearest vent. Sage held her breath, listening intently. To her surprise, a melodic laughter greeted her ears before it fizzled into crunching gravel and soft smacking sounds. She shot a confused look at Penelope, who was already grinning.
Level Sixteens, Penelope mouthed.
Sage’s eyes widened in understanding.
Penelope rolled her eyes
and jerked her head toward the door, indicating that they should take advantage of the lovebirds’ distracted state and leave.
As they tiptoed to the exit, Sage glanced back over her shoulder at the young couple making out on the rooftop. She definitely didn’t have to worry about them noticing they had company. She wrinkled her nose and slipped out the door, closing it quietly behind her.
11. GOOD MATCH
“Next.”
As she took a step forward and stuck out her hand, Sage stifled a small gasp. Now that she was at the front of the line, she finally had a view of the woman sitting in front of her. Dark curls spilled over her shoulders and face, partially obscuring the electric gaze she was shooting at Sage. This was the same woman who had led her to the meeting with Mr. Walsh and the other Lawless students at the beginning of the year. It seemed Mr. Walsh was no longer the only Lawless instructor at the Institution.
The woman hastily attached prongs to Sage’s bracelet. Her eyes glinted with whispers of the secret they shared, and her lips formed a thin line for just a moment before she spoke, as if she were urging Sage to remain silent.
“Your bracelet has been removed solely for safety reasons during your matches. Come back immediately…”
Sage didn’t hear the rest of the speech. She was too distracted studying the woman in front of her. If she hadn’t known that she’d helped facilitate a covert Lawless meeting, Sage never would have suspected anything unusual about her. She was young, probably a recent graduate, but she seemed to have already memorized the recitations of national pride quite well. By all appearances, she was a model citizen. And of course, today, there was no trace of the relic earrings that she’d worn the first night Sage had seen her.
Feeling a light pressure against the back of her hand, Sage looked down. The thin disc had already melded into her hand, leaving her assigned string of digits in its wake.
The woman looked at Sage with raised eyebrows. Of course. She must have finished her instructions while Sage wasn’t paying attention. Sage gave her one more sideways glance and left the table.
She grew antsy waiting for her first fight. The lines seemed longer as a Level Eleven. It probably wasn’t true. The administration took pride in the supposed randomness of the fighting pairs—it was supposed to make things as equitable as possible. Maybe she’d just gotten lucky to start fighting earlier in previous years.
Her thoughts meandered back a bit as she began dwelling on the woman who’d logged her bracelet and checked her in for the tournament. Surely, Mr. Walsh knew who she was. Why hadn’t he mentioned that there was another Lawless instructor though? And she was so young. Sage didn’t recognize her as a former student, but that was probably just because the Institution was such a big place, and she didn’t interact with the older kids as much.
Someone nudged her from behind. Sage stepped forward numbly. She must have been distracted—her nerves weren’t going haywire like they normally would be right before a match.
It was finally her turn. She shook her head to clear her thoughts as she entered the boundary. She squared her shoulders as her opponent stepped onto the mat across from her. Everett. Great. This match shouldn’t be too difficult. He was always a pushover in practice.
The starting tone rang. To Sage’s surprise, Everett leapt forward, engaging her quickly. Based on their sparring during class, she hadn’t expected such a strong start from him. He managed to get a couple early blows in, sending Sage staggering backward.
She caught herself before stepping over the line and looked up in shock. This wasn’t the same fighter she knew from class. She needed to adapt quickly if she didn’t want an immediate loss. She steeled herself before his arm shot out again, managing to deflect the punch this time.
But she hadn’t anticipated the kick that followed immediately after.
A moment later, she found herself sprawled out on the ground, lying on her belly.
No, no, no. Get up!
She rolled over onto her back before it was too late. Everett had already scrambled down to fight on her level. His stance gave him an edge, and he didn’t waste it. He wrapped his arm around her neck, clamping down on her throat as he forced his knee into her back.
Her eyes widened, her face contorting in pain while she flailed against his hold. She refused to tap out her defeat. Not to him. Not the first match.
For an instant, uncertainty flashed across his face as he watched her struggle. Weakness. Sage doubted it would last long. She took advantage of his hesitation, striking her fist against the upper side of ribcage.
He grunted in pain. His hold loosened. Her hand shot up, grabbing a fistful of his hair. She doubted she could get out of the hold entirely, but she could try to force him over the boundary line before he realized what she was attempting.
Drawing her knees up, she planted her feet firmly on the ground in front of her. With all the strength she could muster, she threw her back against his chest. Both of their bodies skidded across the mat.
“Ooof.”
Sage felt his arm drop from her neck as they came to an abrupt stop. Without waiting to see if she’d managed to shove him out of bounds, she sprang to her feet and leapt forward, distancing herself from him. As soon as she had put a bit of space between them, she turned around to see if the Coordinator had called the match.
He hadn’t. Apparently, Everett had managed to stop her assault and stay within the boundary.
She narrowed her eyes. At least she wasn’t pinned anymore, but the match was nearly over. If she didn’t get the win quickly, the Coordinator might have to call the fight—and that decision was unlikely to be in her favor after Everett’s choke hold. And she couldn’t count on him faltering and showing weakness again.
Before she had another moment to strategize her attack, Everett’s fist came flying at her chin. This time, she dodged successfully, elbowing him in the kidneys as she sidestepped the punch.
Something flickered across his face. Pain? Annoyance, maybe? She didn’t have time to figure it out. Dropping to her hands, she shot out her heel and swept it under his legs. There was no way for him to stay on his feet after that. He tumbled to the ground, catching himself with his hands. Sage grinned. They were close enough to the edge of the boundary that his palm slid over the line.
The Coordinator stepped into their ring. It was over.
“Good match,” Everett wheezed.
“You too.” Sage nodded. “When did you get so good?”
A half-smile slid over his face. He shrugged and walked off without a word in the direction the Coordinator instructed.
Sage scampered over to the line for her next match. She’d barely won her first fight—she’d have to make sure not to get caught off guard again. It was no longer safe to assume she was better than most of her classmates. Especially now that she’d be facing off against other winners.
She ran over the details of her match with Everett, recounting every misstep, trying to determine how he’d nearly beaten her. It was still a bit of a mystery how his fighting skills had improved so much since their last sparring practice. She’d been surprised. That wouldn’t happen again.
And it didn’t. The next several matches went practically textbook-perfect in her favor. Every jab, every kick, every takedown—they were flawless, as if she were one of the older student instructors giving introductory lessons to the Level Eights. She wasn’t even bleeding yet, but then, she hadn’t faced anyone as vicious as Carnabel. That girl relished causing pain.
The tournament was off to a strong start. Sage finished up another match with her ego intact and headed toward the next line. She bounced onto the mat, ready to face whoever she was assigned. When she saw who was standing across from her, her stomach plummeted to the ground. Drue.
At least she wouldn’t be caught unaware this time. She knew she was about to face a good fighter. One she hadn’t beaten before. One who’d also received extra training.
As she hopped along the edge of the mat, her eyes
met Drue’s. A crooked smile was plastered on his face.
“Hey, Indarra.” He winked. “This’ll be a good one.”
His relaxed greeting unsettled her. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to get into her head or not, but he definitely had.
She frowned. He wasn’t going to distract her with meaningless chatter.
The tone sounded. It immediately became clear that Drue wasn’t going to waste any time feeling out her defenses. He dashed forward, fists flying. Sage barely managed to sidestep his attack in time, stumbling slightly, and she certainly didn’t have the foresight to counter it.
Taking advantage of her misstep, Drue grabbed Sage’s wrist and spun under her, tossing her to the ground. Pain tingled across her back as she gasped for breath. He dropped down to her level instantly.
She felt his legs beginning to wrap around the arm that he’d used to toss her. Instinctively, her knee shot up, hooking around one of his legs before he could solidify his hold on her. They struggled against each other using nothing more than brute force for a few moments, practically forgetting their training. Sage managed to break free of his grasp, narrowly avoiding the almost-immediate loss.
Pushing away from him, she staggered to her feet and quickly assessed her options. Most of the time, she could rely on the other fighter making a rookie mistake. Attacking too aggressively, moving too slowly, leaving himself open… But Drue had trained just as much as she had—even more so recently. He wasn’t going to slip up.
Maybe she was just tired from her other matches. Maybe it was the fact that she knew he was so much better than most of her classmates. Or maybe it was the memory of spending so much time in the infirmary after last year’s tournament. Whatever the reason, she was unsettled by the panic rising in her chest. This wasn’t like her—maybe during a Lawless mission with life and death stakes, but not on the mats.
He didn’t allow her a long reprieve. Shooting up from the mat, he barreled toward her again. He wasn’t afraid to take the offensive. She expected him to start another punching combo, but he stopped a bit too far back for that. By the time she understood why, a powerful kick had already landed against her stomach, sending her stumbling backward.
