“A triangle,” he said.
The worker put down the painting and picked up another one. She couldn’t look more disinterested if she tried. How many of these tests had she done today?
“And what do you see in this one?” she asked in such a monotone that Jeremiah was surprised she wasn’t actually asleep.
He looked at it, trying to find a shape or pattern hidden within. This must be where the trickery began, for there was no shape swirling together inside his mind.
“There’s nothing. Just dots.”
The worker shook her head slightly, seeming to wake herself up, and coughed as she stepped closer to him. “Are you certain? Look again.”
“I’m certain.” He should’ve let Tallis go first, so he could tell him what he was meant to see.
“You realize that to lie to the King is a crime punishable by death?” She tapped her foot as she waited for him to try again.
Jeremiah searched the painting, looking for something. Anything! But all he saw was dots.
He shook his head, ignoring the churning in his gut.
The worker picked up a third painting and held it in front of him instead, her eyes wide as she awaited his response. He let out a deep breath, certain he’d see something in this new set of dots.
“And this one?” she asked.
His eyes began to water, he was staring so hard. There had to be a shape in there. Somewhere. Yet no swirling took place. He rubbed his eyes and tried again. Maybe he should’ve waited until he woke up a little more.
“A star,” he said, taking a guess. It could hardly be a triangle again and there was no way it would be a circle made up of circles. A star seemed the next best choice. Or maybe he should’ve said square…
“You see a star?” The worker looked him directly in the eye. “Are you sure you see a star?”
“No.” He shifted in his seat. “A square. I see a square!”
“A square now? Are you sure this time?” Her stare was so intense he felt as if she was burning holes in his retinas.
“No,” he said, unable to continue the lie. “I don’t see anything again.”
“I have one more test for you.” The worker studied his face with far greater interest than she had when he’d arrived. He didn’t want to be interesting to her! He wanted her to be just as bored as she’d been when he’d arrived.
She put down the painting and picked up a fourth one, holding it for him to see. This one was different from the others. It was still painted with a series of dots, except this one had more detail, seeming more like something to hang on a wall, instead of being used for a test.
“What do you see?” the worker asked.
Jeremiah leaped to his feet and smiled, pleased to be shown a picture that finally made sense.
“Sit down.” The worker frowned to show she was serious.
“I see this one!” Jeremiah sat down and tried to stop his leg from jiggling. “It’s a painting of a bowl of oranges, just like the bowl over there.”
“Are there any differences between them?” the worker asked.
He looked between the two. The same blue bowl with the same floral pattern. The same oranges, piled high.
He shook his head. “It’s the same. There are a few less oranges in the real one. Otherwise, everything’s exactly the same.”
The worker put down the painting and pointed to a door at the back of the stage. For just the smallest flicker of time, he thought he saw sadness brush her eyes.
“That way,” she said.
Jeremiah had seen other people leaving from the same curtain they’d arrived through. He didn’t want to leave via any back exit.
“Do I get my orange?” he asked, heading for the bowl.
“That way,” the worker said again, this time louder as her finger pointed directly to the door at the back of the stage.
“It’s okay,” he said, plucking an orange from the bowl. “My friend’s out this way. I’ll just take my orange and leave.”
The worker blew a whistle and two guards stepped through the curtain, blocking his path. His orange dropped to the floor as they took hold of his arms.
“Let me sit the test again,” he said, his feet planting themselves to the timber stage. “I wasn’t looking properly. I’ll pass it this time.”
“You already passed,” said the worker, as the guards dragged him to the door at the back of the stage.
“Tallis!” he cried, not sure what he expected his friend could do for him. The palace guards were known to be brutal. There was very little use in fighting against them.
The worker opened the door and the guards tossed him through it roughly and he landed heavily in the dark. He sat up and rubbed his rear end, aware the sharp pain he was feeling was the least of his problems.
“You passed the test,” said a voice.
“Passed?” he asked, looking around for the owner of the voice. “I couldn’t see half the paintings.”
“What do you see now?”
A light flickered to life and a soft glow filled the small room, revealing the owner of the voice. It was a tall, well-built man, the lines on his face suggesting he was middle-aged. He held a lantern in one hand. In his other, was a sword, which he was leaning on like a walking stick.
“I see you,” said Jeremiah, trying not to let his voice quaver.
“And what am I wearing?” The man held the lantern in front of his torso and flashed his yellow teeth in what he seemed to think was a reassuring smile.
Another trick question, obviously. How to answer it correctly this time? Jeremiah decided to stick to the truth. Making guesses had gotten him nowhere earlier.
“A gray robe with a hood,” he said, scrambling to his feet.
The man nodded. “Interesting observation, Whisperer.”
“Whisperer?” There was that word again. The same one that’d filled him with dread. “What’s a Whisperer?”
“You’re a Whisperer.”
“What do you want from me?” Jeremiah crossed his arms. This man was playing games with him! “When will you release me?”
“I’m not holding you prisoner, Whisperer.” The man smiled again.
“Why do you keep calling me that?” Jeremiah took a step toward the door, not the one he’d been thrown through, but another, leading away from the testing room and the guards.
“Because I told you. That’s what you are. And you may call me Conductor … for now.”
Jeremiah didn’t want to call him anything. He wanted to be far away from here and back at home in bed, wrestling an orange from Micah’s hands, not breathing stale air inside this wooden cell.
He tried the door handle, not at all surprised to find it locked.
“If I’m not a prisoner, then why can’t I leave?” He tried to steady his breathing, not wanting his fear to creep into his voice.
The Conductor smiled. “Because I haven’t made you my offer yet.”
There was nothing this awful man could offer him that he would want. Not all the riches in the palace. Jeremiah crossed his arms and waited.
“King Virtus is looking for Whisperers for his new army to protect Forte Cadence. You, I believe, have the necessary skills.” The Conductor tapped his sword on the floor, marking the timber with its tip.
The King was very selective about who joined his army. Only the strongest and fastest bothered to apply. A life of fighting and risking your life in exchange for a full belly and a bed. It didn’t seem like such a fair deal to Jeremiah, who was neither strong nor fast enough to entertain it as a serious option. Until now.
“How does looking at paintings make me worthy of joining the King’s army?” he asked.
“This is a special army, Whisperer.”
Jeremiah recoiled. “No, thank you. I’d like to return to my family now. You said I wasn’t a pris—”
“Hush!” the Conductor hissed. “You don’t understand. It’s your family we need to talk about.”
Jeremiah’s stomach dropped. Not his family
. If this vile man dared to threaten his family, he was going to lose it. He eyed off the sword, wondering how to wrestle it from the Conductor’s grasp.
The Conductor came closer and reached for him with his index finger, looping it in the leather cord around his neck, which suddenly felt more like a garrote than a lucky charm.
“Your family is hungry. And there’s great hunger yet to come. How do you plan to feed them when the winter’s here? Walnuts don’t grow in winter.” He glanced at the walnut shell hanging from the cord. “Many people won’t survive. But others … will.”
The Conductor dropped his hand and Jeremiah tucked the walnut into his shirt. “My family’s fine. We do our best.”
He thought of his father and the struggle he’d been having with his lungs. He could barely breathe the spring air without his medicine, which they could no longer afford. And once his mother had the baby, things were only going to get worse. This awful Conductor was right. They’d be lucky to survive the winter. Maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss this offer. Although, how did he know what the Conductor said was the truth? If he left his family and the promise of food was a lie, then they’d have no hope at all without him there to protect them. No, he couldn’t leave them.
“I can make sure your family is well-fed, not just this winter, but every winter of their lives. Enough food and medicine for every one of them. Except you have to come with me, Whisperer.”
Jeremiah shook his head. “How do I even know that you’d keep your promise?”
“You don’t. I’m giving you the King’s word. It’s up to you if you decide to trust him. Sometimes in life, you have to take a chance. Because a chance is better than no chance at all.”
“My family needs me.” He crossed his arms. Why should he trust the King? He’d never done a single thing to earn that trust.
“Let me be clear,” said the Conductor. “The King is requesting your service and making you a very generous offer in exchange. Are you certain that you wish to turn him down?”
Jeremiah opened his mouth, then hesitated. Was he actually being given a choice here? “My family needs me,” he said again, hoping that this was enough.
“Very well.” The Conductor set down his lantern and fished a key from the pocket of his robe. “Think about it the next time your stomach is begging you for food.”
Jeremiah blinked. His stomach was begging him for food right now. It always was. “I have enough to eat,” he lied.
“Come to the palace when you change your mind,” said the Conductor, inserting the key in the door.
“I won’t be changing my mind.” Jeremiah crossed his arms and waited for the door to be unlocked.
The Conductor paused before he turned the key, and looked deep into his eyes, his pale blue irises pooling with a hatred that Jeremiah had trouble understanding.
“It wouldn’t be wise to tell anybody about what you saw in here,” he hissed. “Understand me, Whisperer?”
Jeremiah nodded furiously, happy to agree to anything, as long as that door opened, and he was allowed to walk through it.
The Conductor turned the key and light poured in as he opened the door.
Jeremiah didn’t pause to shield his eyes as he made a break for freedom. At the pace he moved, perhaps he was fast enough to join the regular army after all.
“Tallis!” he called, as he went around the stage to the crowd of people in the square, hoping his friend was okay. “Tallis!”
“Jeremiah! What’s wrong?” Tallis was behind him, taking hold of his arms to pin him to the spot. “Where the devil have you been?”
“It’s not where the devil, it’s who the devil because I think I just met him myself.”
“What—”
“Surprise!” Micah jumped out at him from behind Tallis and giggled.
“Enough of the surprises,” said Jeremiah, not in the mood for his sister’s favorite game.
“Are you okay, Jeremiah?” asked Tallis, putting an arm around Micah to take the sting out of her brother’s harsh tone.
“Come with me and I’ll explain.” Jeremiah was already walking backward away from the square. He turned and ran, hearing the footsteps of Tallis and Micah kicking up the dirt behind him. He didn’t care if they followed or not. He just needed to get as far away as possible from the square and that horrible Conductor.
He led them to a copse of trees beside a field. The same place he’d once found the walnuts. In the distance he could see Mount Allegro, with the King’s arena perched on top, its golden oval-domed roof catching the sun and sending colorful rays of light bouncing in all directions. The arena was the jewel of Forte Cadence. This was where the King’s army trained and when the wind blew in the right direction, grunts and yelps could be heard floating down the grassy hills to the Valley of the Blessed.
The kingdom of Forte Cadence extended far beyond here, with villages and valleys dotting the many rolling hills. The Valley of the Blessed was the closest to the palace, which had turned out to be more of a curse than a blessing. If the King were to extend his cruelty beyond watching them starve, then surely they’d be the first he’d target. So, they lived in fear as well as hunger. Forte Cadence was the largest of the world’s five kingdoms, which made King Virtus the most powerful man alive. Jeremiah often wondered what life was like in other kingdoms. Were the people as hungry as they were? He dreamed of one day escaping Forte Cadence to find out.
Jeremiah ran beyond the first line of trees and collapsed onto the ground, lying on his back as he heaved for breath.
Micah did a tumble-turn and landed next to him, resting her cheek on his chest, which was rising and falling at such a rate her head looked as if she were bobbing on a stormy sea. She giggled.
Tallis sat on his other side, far more serious than Micah.
“What happened?” Tallis asked again, rolling his orange in his hands. “Where’s your orange?”
“Forget the bloody orange!” Jeremiah pulled himself up to rest on his elbows, pushing Micah away. “I’ve got bigger problems than a piece of fruit. I told you it was a trick!”
“Jeremiah?” Micah sat up. Her eyes were wide as she registered this wasn’t a time for laughing. “Didn’t you pass the test?”
“That’s just it, I did pass the test. Turns out it wasn’t a test you want to pass.”
“Hold on,” said Tallis. “They showed you two paintings, right? First a triangle, then a letter B. Or some people saw a letter K.”
“No.” Jeremiah slapped his own forehead. The letter B or K! That was all he’d had to say to get his orange and avoid suspicion. “I saw the triangle first, then nothing in the second painting. And nothing in the third.”
“They showed you a third? Nobody got shown a third!” Tallis ran a hand through his hair as his eyes darted around.
“And a fourth. Although in that one I saw nothing except a bowl of ora—” He stopped himself from saying more by biting his tongue. “Damn it! I wasn’t supposed to tell you what I saw. The Conductor told me not to.”
“We won’t tell anyone,” said Micah, drawing her fingers across her grubby lips.
“Who’s the Conductor? Jeremiah! Tell us. Are you in danger?” Tallis got up and kicked at the dirt, his arms swinging wildly as he turned in a circle and sat back down.
Jeremiah had never seen his friend like this. It was as if he was a mirror of exactly how he himself was feeling, with too much frustration building inside and no way to let it all out.
“The guards took me to a room and there was a man there. He said to call him Conductor.” Jeremiah shivered. “He told me the King is forming a new army of something called Whisperers.”
“And he wants you?” Micah put an arm around him and buried her face in his hair. “You can’t go, Jeremiah. I need you. We all need you!”
“What if you didn’t need me?” Jeremiah lifted her face, so he could look into her eyes. “What if you had everything you needed in life and didn’t need me at all. Would that be good?”
“No! It wouldn’t be good.” Fat tears erupted from the corners of her eyes, sending muddy trails down her cheeks. “Don’t go. Please!”
“You’re not seriously considering this, are you?” asked Tallis. “We’d never see you again. Ever.”
“I told him no,” said Jeremiah. “It’s okay, Micah. I told him no. I’m not joining any army.”
He pulled his sister to his chest once more and looked at his friend over the top of her mess of hair. They locked their gaze and spoke without words, both understanding that he may not have a choice here. The King wanted him. And the King was known for getting what he wanted.
“I’m sorry,” said Tallis. “This is my fault. I should never have made you do it. You didn’t even want to! Here, take my orange. You have it.”
Jeremiah shook his head, pushing the orange away. “Share that with your brothers. You didn’t force me. Nobody forced me. I didn’t have to do it. I can make decisions for myself.”
“I hope so,” Tallis said, shaking his head. “I really, really hope so.”
“Da is getting sicker,” said Jeremiah. “And Ma will have the baby soon and that’ll be another mouth to feed.”
“Which is exactly why you can’t leave us,” wailed Micah. “Winter is coming and I hate winter.”
“The Conductor promised to feed you every winter for the rest of your life. And get Da the medicine he needs.” Jeremiah felt his heart breaking. There was no way to convince Micah this was a good thing. Mainly because it wasn’t.
Tallis rested his arm on Jeremiah’s shoulder. He was shaking. “Don’t do it.”
“I won’t.” Each time he spoke of refusing the Conductor’s offer, his words became emptier, hollowing out like a fallen tree under the snow.
“Good,” said Micah, tapping her fingers on his chest. “Don’t go.”
“I won’t,” he said again, catching Tallis’s eye, just as a tear escaped down his friend’s face and landed on the ground.
Tallis knew it, just as he knew it, too.
The choice that wasn’t a choice at all, had been placed in the palm of his hand and was burning his skin like a coal from the fire. He could continue to hold it, while he and his family turned to ash, or he could throw it into the air and see where it landed.
The Kingdoms of Evernow Box Set Page 2
