by Dylan Steel
She didn’t need to look at the Coordinator’s face to know she’d just lost the match. In fact, she was lucky not to have interrupted anyone else’s fight. And she was lucky that he hadn’t drawn blood. She hadn’t sustained any real injuries other than her pride. Despite the loss, she was going to be in a good position for her next matches—and she was definitely still better off than last year. Her jaw twinged at the memory of her forced forfeitures in the previous tournament.
“Guess I should look into that Interest Society,” she said. “Seems like it’s really paying off.”
Drue grinned. “So far. Good match though, Indarra.”
Sage shook her head as she walked away. He’d beaten her too quickly. No doubt she’d still place respectably since she had a lot of early wins, but she knew she had a lot of work to do if she wanted to improve her rank in the next tournament. She took her place in line for the next match.
As it turned out, her next few fights were a lot tougher. She scraped together a couple more wins before falling into a haphazard pattern of losses, but her body was beginning to show its wear after the day of fighting. Her face had taken the brunt of several beatings, and all her muscles were on fire. Fortunately, though, her jaw and other bones remained intact, so she was able to keep fighting for the next couple hours—until her third loss in a row.
Since she’d completed the six-fight minimum required by the rules of the tournament, three consecutive losses spelled the end of her attempts at ranking. After last year’s colossal failure, getting to the three-loss streak was actually quite an accomplishment.
Sage plodded over to the same table she’d visited earlier, sticking out her wrist. The same woman was still sitting there, waiting to readminister the bracelets. Her eyes flitted up to meet Sage’s, a look of sympathy on her face. Sage cringed. She must have looked pretty awful.
“Here you go, hon.” She placed Sage’s bracelet around her wrist, clasping it back together. “You’re all set.” Her hands lingered on either side of Sage’s wrist for a moment, giving her a slight squeeze. “Do you need medical attention?”
Sage paused, quickly running through a mental checklist of the pain in her body. She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Alright. But if you change your mind,” the woman looked her over once more, raising an eyebrow, “the medics are over there.” She tilted her head in the direction of a slew of nurses and doctors. The small station was overrun with new patients.
“You can take your seat with the others now while you wait.” She motioned toward a thick cluster of chairs that had been set up backstage.
Other bruised, defeated students had already collapsed there, and some hadn’t even made it to the seats. Dozens of young fighters lay moaning on the ground, and at the moment, no one seemed to care that they weren’t following precise instructions by claiming a chair.
Exhaling slowly, Sage eased herself into a seat away from the others. Being somewhat isolated after the tournament actually seemed to be the popular choice. Most of the other beaten students had opted for chairs at least an arm’s length away from anyone else—at least until the tournament began winding down and the section started getting too crowded.
Sage looked around, taking in the stench of defeat. For the first time that day, she found herself wondering why she hadn’t been asked to complete another mission. She was, after all, outside of the confines of the Institution. But then, so was everyone else. Mr. Walsh had probably used an older, more experienced student to do his bidding. That is, if there was any mission at all. Maybe there wasn’t.
Her forehead wrinkled. Maybe security was too tight to try anything. After all, the entire building was locked down tight because the students’ bracelets were temporarily removed. And the guards had acted like the world was ending when she needed to leave early for medical treatment last year.
A bitter laugh caught in her throat at the memory. She stuffed it down and stared at her wrist. For a few hours while she’d been fighting, she’d enjoyed the illusion of freedom. She ran her finger along the smooth edge of her bracelet.
Someday, she thought as she looked at the unassuming jewelry that imprisoned her, I’m going to find a way to get rid of you.
12. THIRTY-EIGHT
“I look ridiculous.” Penelope whined as she stared out from under a clump of red feathers. One of the feathers tickled her nose. She sneezed.
“Only a little.” Sage giggled. She did look ridiculous. She’d had the unfortunate luck of being cast as “bird number three” in their Founders’ Day skit. Her costume was supposed to give her the appearance of a bird, but she looked more like a giant, fluffy red boulder.
Neither of them had speaking parts this year. Sage, however, was dressed quite differently, head-to-toe in a black bodysuit. Her role was “the shadow”—a symbolic part designed to show the darker side of Eprah’s citizens. In other words, she’d been cast as a member of the hated Lawless faction. Fitting. Of course, the skit didn’t call them out by name, but no one could miss the reference.
“This is taking forever.” Penelope rolled her eyes as she shifted her weight. “Does it always take this long? I don’t remember it taking this long.”
Sage smirked. “It’s just because your suit is hot. Or possibly because we’re a year older, so we have to stay back here through more presentations. But probably just the suit.”
“Thanks.” Penelope wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue.
Out of the corner of her eye, Sage noticed someone walking rapidly toward them. She turned and spotted Kai hurrying after Mr. Gaztok. They were both clearly upset. But the two men changed direction before they reached the Level Elevens, ducking behind a set of drawn curtains.
Sage furrowed her brow. Mr. Gaztok must have been planning to make an announcement at the end of the presentations again. She could think of no other reason for him to be backstage. This was becoming an unsettling tradition. He wasn’t exactly known for bringing good news—at least, not for the Lawless. Or anyone with half a brain.
They were speaking in hushed tones, but Mr. Gaztok’s anger was obvious. Sage craned her neck, trying to listen. It was impossible to hear anything they were saying. She glanced in the direction of the stage. The Level Nines were still working their way through their performance. They’d still be waiting in the wings for awhile. Her curiosity got the better of her. Besides, she reasoned, she might learn something useful. Especially since Mr. Gaztok sounded irritated. Eavesdropping could help the Lawless.
Sage turned to Penelope. “If Mr. Petry says anything, cover for me,” she whispered.
Before her friend had a chance to protest, she tiptoed closer to the curtain. She slipped in between the layers of thick velvet, holding her breath as she strained her ears to listen.
“…harder to get them alone,” Mr. Gaztok fumed. “They’re always with someone else.”
“It’s to be expected.” Kai’s voice was calm. “We know they’ve been coordinating their efforts against Eprah for some time now. It was only a matter of time until they realized it was us and took measures to protect themselves.” He sighed. “The fact is, they’re getting very good at making sure they’re always around loyal citizens who believe the cover story for the disappearances. It makes them untouchable as long as we’re bound to this facade. Their tenacity is almost admirable.”
Sage could almost hear the glare Mr. Gaztok shot Kai.
“I said almost,” Kai said irritably. “Of course, I cannot condone their actions.”
“Good,” Mr. Gaztok grunted. “I’d hate to think you would.” He paused. “There are another thirty-eight names that we need to collect before the end of the month. Thirty-eight, Mr. Abeldra.”
“I know that, sir.”
“Well, will your men be able to handle it?”
Sage heard Kai shuffle his feet. “If we’d gotten the intelligence a few months ago, I would have said yes without hesitation, but…”
“But what?”
> “I think someone’s warning them, sir. A lot of them have been changing their routines. Some have even started seeing known Loyalists.”
Loyalists. Sage had never heard that term before, but it made sense. They would be everything the Lawless weren’t.
“Seeing? Dating?”
Kai must have nodded because Mr. Gaztok swore.
“They’re not—are any of the women pregnant?”
Kai hesitated. “Two so far that I know of.”
Mr. Gaztok swore again.
“What would you like me to do?”
“They’ll have to be taken as well.” Mr. Gaztok uttered another string of profanities. “They can’t rely on some of our laws for safety and simply ignore the others that would condemn them for their insolence.”
“Of course, sir.” Kai’s agreement sent chills down Sage’s spine. “And the others? What would you like me to do if they can’t be found alone?”
“We need all the names on that list,” Mr. Gaztok said coldly. “If they insist on surrounding themselves with Loyalists, then they have condemned them. I would imagine the Loyalists would consider it quite an honor to give their lives in service to Eprah. We cannot afford to allow any of the vermin to escape.”
Loyalists giving their lives? Lawless escaping? To where? There was only Eprah. Sage’s head was spinning.
“They won’t. Not with these orders.” Kai hesitated. “But sir, three of my men were seen recently while acquiring a woman. Two young girls spotted them from the Institution’s yard.”
“Rox.” Mr. Gaztok was seething. “Why would they engage within sight of the Institution?”
“They didn’t exactly. The girls weren’t where they were supposed to be. And the woman put up a fight and moved to a more conspicuous area before she was able to be reacquired.”
Mr. Gaztok was silent for a moment. “Have you had the girls questioned?”
The tone of his voice made Sage’s heart thump faster.
“No. Unfortunately, the men weren’t able to identify the two girls.”
The relief Sage felt did little to settle the blood pounding in her ears.
“Not even from the footage?”
Sage’s heart caught in her throat.
“The footage…” Kai hesitated. “It’s unclear. But,” he added quickly, “if they wanted to come forward, they would have by now. I don’t think we have anything to worry about from them.”
“Other than a lack of loyalty, you mean?”
“Sir?”
“We’ve told citizens—all our citizens—that the Lawless are behind these abductions. Loyal citizens would report having seen something like that.”
“They’re probably just scared.”
“That’s irrelevant to loyalty.”
Kai let out a small, wry laugh. “It’s been a long time since you were a child, Mr. Gaztok. Fear is completely relevant to the choices children make.”
“I hope you’re right, Mr. Abeldra. For all our sakes.”
“Of course.”
“And for the sake of Eprah, I hope you manage to collect the names that remain. The cost to a few citizens in pursuit of this goal is far less than the cost to our entire way of life should these traitors escape.”
“I understand. Trust me. We will find them.”
“You’d better. These people are a cancer, Kai.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And we have to cut out this cancer. Completely. There’s no other way to cure this disease. No other way to ensure that Eprah survives this trial. You cannot show cancer mercy.”
As quietly as possible, Sage stumbled backward out of the curtains, fighting back the urge to vomit. She couldn’t listen to any more.
Her legs shook as she forced one foot in front of the other. She took her place standing next to Penelope, waiting for their level to be called onstage.
“What happened?” Penelope whispered.
Sage shook her head, saying nothing. What else could she do? They were almost certainly being watched right now. It wasn’t safe.
She swallowed. She had to find a way to tell Mr. Walsh what she’d heard. Before thirty-eight more people disappeared. The blood drained from her face. Or more. Even Eprah’s most loyal citizens weren’t safe.
Level Ten’s performance was winding down. It was almost their turn. She hoped she could remember her stage directions. Focusing on her part was nearly impossible at the moment.
Mr. Gaztok’s words still echoed in her mind.
A cancer. She was a cancer. And there would be no mercy for someone like her.
13. CONFESSION
It took Sage a week to find a chance to slip away without anyone asking questions. While everyone finished up dinner and headed back to the Common Lounge, she hung back, making her way through the maze of hallways to an old, familiar classroom.
She burst through the door into her former instructor’s room.
Mr. Walsh looked up from his work, startled. “Sage? What are you—”
“We need to talk. About… things. Can we?”
He frowned. “Sage, we can’t just—”
“It’s important.” She said hurriedly. “Bruggs is just going to have to fix this or do whatever he does.”
His eyes narrowed. “It had better be.” He pursed his lips, running his fingers along his bracelet. “You can’t imagine how difficult it is for him to make footage lapses seem like nothing more than system glitches. Too many ‘glitches,’ and they’ll overhaul the whole program. And there’s no guarantee he’ll find another back door into a new system.”
Sage’s eyes widened, then she shrugged. “It’s important,” she repeated.
“Very well. What is it?”
“Thirty-eight people.”
“What?” Mr. Walsh wrinkled his brow in confusion.
“Mr. Gaztok told Kai that they had a list of thirty-eight Lawless people,” she said impatiently. “To abduct. They’re going after them this month.”
His lips parted. “How do you know this?” The color faded from his cheeks.
“Backstage on Founders’ Day. I…” she hesitated, “…overheard them.”
Mr. Walsh ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I hope you were careful.”
“I was.” She nodded, adding quickly, “They didn’t see me.”
He shook his head. “Thirty-eight…”
She bit her lip. “There’s more.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“He basically told Kai to kill anyone who got in the way. Even Loyalists. I-I guess they don’t want any witnesses.”
“Even Loyalists.” Mr. Walsh repeated what she said in a whisper as he leaned forward, cradling his head in his hands. “That makes sense,” he said dully.
“What do you mean?” It was Sage’s turn to be confused.
“I’ve gotten reports,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ve lost some of our supporters. Fourteen in the last week. We thought they’d been captured too, but we couldn’t be sure. The circumstances of their disappearances were… different.”
“Different how?”
“They hadn’t been alone. And the people they were with—well, Beautification was called each time.”
“That’s—isn’t that normal?”
“Often, yes, but not for these people.” He shook his head. “These people weren’t menial workers. They were respected. Some of them had an almost obscene amount of Chances. That’s why our friends chose to be with them. They thought they were safe. Their deaths didn’t make any sense to me until now.”
Sage nodded. “He said that a lot of them had been seeing known Loyalists. And that at least two of them were pregnant.”
He sucked in a breath. “I know of three women who fit that bill.” His head bobbed. “Thank you, Sage. There might be time to warn them.”
“But what good does it do to warn them? Where can they go?”
“They’ll go into hiding,” he said numbly. “Like your parents did.”
&nb
sp; She stared at him. Her parents?
“Did you hear any names? Did they say anything else that might have given you a clue about who they would target?”
Sage shook her head slowly, still reeling from the revelation that her parents had been running for their lives. How had she not realized this before? She supposed it made sense though. They were always so cautious—and she’d never been allowed to enter the city.
“It’s alright. It’s alright.” He stood up and began pacing. “I can’t believe…” he trailed off, “…and now with these deaths, they’ll have even more horrors to blame on the Lawless.” He clenched his jaw and returned his attention to Sage. “Was that all you heard?”
She nodded.
“Alright. Thank you, Sage. You were right to come to me with this. I’ll find a way to get the word out.”
He tilted his head toward the door. She didn’t move.
“Was there something else?”
Sage swallowed. “Well, since I’m here anyways, I figured I’d ask…”
“Yes?”
“I just—I mean, with even more disappearances—I wanted to know if we were still going to try to save them. If you’ve heard anything else about Lita?” She held her breath, waiting for his answer.
Mr. Walsh’s expression turned stony. “We don’t have any updates about any of our friends who have been taken.” He ran his tongue over his lips. “There’s still a plan in place. And in light of the new information you just gave me, I’m quite sure our leadership will choose to enact it soon. We’ll do what we can for her and the others, but please don’t ask me about it again. I can’t discuss any of the details with you.”
“Ok.” Sage nodded. “I just—I wanted to know she was ok.” Tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked them back fiercely.
“I’m sorry I can’t offer you reassurances,” he said, motioning toward the door again.
“I had another question,” she spoke quickly, remembering her conversation with Penelope.
