“I went through the archway,” she said, between mouthfuls of cold soup. There was no point in lying about this. The law didn’t prevent her from leaving the Round.
“I know,” said Sharma. “I saw you returning. Who was the girl?”
“That’s Azrael. She’s my friend.” Rani smiled at this word. It was still hard to believe she had a friend.
Sharma sighed. “You’re in a much better mood than when I saw you last.”
“A lot’s happened since then.” Rani set down her bread and wondered how to explain. She trusted Sharma, but would she understand?
“I didn’t know you had a friend.” Sharma winced again as she shifted in the chair.
“I just met her.” Rani picked up her spoon. “She took me to the Growing Center. I saw a baby! It was the most frightening thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t believe you have one of those in your belly right now.”
“Rani, you didn’t… you didn’t drink anything today, did you?”
“Just water… why? Oh! You mean… no!” Her spoon slipped from her fingers and clattered to the table. “Of course not. Where would I even get any of that stuff from? It was banned before I was even born.”
“It’s just that you’re not yourself. This isn’t you sitting here, telling me strange stories, talking with so many words.” Sharma had her hand on her belly now and was rubbing it with circular movements.
Rani left the table and went to Sharma, crouching down in front of her. “Is your baby kicking?”
Sharma nodded. “I can feel its foot right here.”
Rani reached out her hand until it was hovering over Sharma’s stomach. Her need to connect was spilling over in waves now. When she’d touched Azrael, the world hadn’t ended, despite how shocked Azrael had been. “Can I feel it?”
“Rani! Please step back!” Her voice was shocked. Harsh. “What’s wrong with you?”
Rani fell back onto the floor, almost as if the strength of Sharma’s words had pushed her over.
“I’m sorry,” she said, refusing to allow the tears that were forming to fall.
“Tell me, Rani. What’s happened to you?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” she said, tucking her legs underneath herself and folding her arms in case the uncontrollable urge to touch someone came once more. Sharma was right. She really wasn’t acting like herself.
“You might be surprised what I understand,” said Sharma.
Rani weighed up her options. If she told Sharma the truth then she may tell her father and he’d most likely board up her window, lock her in her bedchamber and drag her to the Conception Center himself. It was too risky. But how could she lie to Sharma? The woman who’d shown her more kindness than any other person in the kingdom.
“Rani! Talk to me. Please.”
“I’ve decided to spend the next fourteen turns, well, thirteen now, living.” This part was true. It didn’t matter that she left out the dying at the end of it bit.
Sharma nodded, seeming unconvinced. “Why? What do you think will happen to you after your heir is sired? Do you think your life will be over? Do you think mine is over now? I survived it. You can, too.”
She didn’t think her life would be over. She knew it would be. At her own hands. The Chairman would never touch her.
“Please, let me feel your baby,” said Rani, coming closer once more. “I touched Azrael on the arm today and it didn’t fall off. The stories of disease are lies. Whatever it was that passed through our kingdom, has long ago died out.”
“No, Rani. No.” She shook her head, the serious expression on her face, as much of an answer as her words.
“Why? I know you don’t believe it either.”
“Because that’s a dangerous line to cross.” Her voice was cold as she tried to shrink back in her chair. Impossible with a belly as round as hers was now. “It starts with one touch of my stomach and then what? Before you know it, you’ll be placing your hands on everyone. It’s too dangerous.”
Rani got up from the floor and returned to her even-colder soup. She didn’t want to upset Sharma.
“You mustn’t leave your bedchamber again, Rani. Do you hear me? No good will come of it. You had your taste of freedom today. Please? I’m worried about you.”
“You’re worried about me?” Rani surprised herself with the hard tone of her voice. Hearing the news of her fate had opened up a well of anger inside her and with each passing moment, the level of her fury grew. “I’m worried about me, too! And I’m worried about you. And Azrael. I’m worried about that baby of yours. I’m even worried about Father. This is wrong, Sharma. It’s wrong! I can’t live like this.”
“You can, Rani. You can.”
“I won’t.” She glanced at the window, reminding herself of the release it’d bring her. She may have just decided that she didn’t want to die, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t.
“We don’t have a choice,” said Sharma, dropping her voice to a whisper.
“Are you happy?” asked Rani. “Do you enjoy your life?”
Sharma shook her head.
“So, what are you doing about it? Obeying rules and waiting for the guards to release you?”
“Don’t, Rani, don’t. I have peace.”
“You don’t have peace! This isn’t peace.”
“I’m fed and clothed and have all my needs met.”
“You’re raped and threatened and have none of your needs met, Sharma.”
Sharma hauled herself out of the chair, unable to hide the tears that streaked their way down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” said Rani, realizing she’d gone too far. “Forgive me. If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you. But this life isn’t my happiness. Which is why…”
She looked to the window, unable to finish what she wanted to say.
“Rani,” said Sharma standing before her so that her stomach was level with Rani’s face. “Give me your hand.”
Rani reached out her hand, trying to steady the way it began to shake.
Sharma wrapped her fingers around Rani’s own, the feeling of skin on skin, the softness and warmth of this small gesture so unlike anything she’d ever felt before. It was like floating in a warm bath during the cool night air and being enveloped in comforting bliss.
Sharma placed Rani’s hand flat on her stomach and let go. Then she felt it. The baby, moving beneath her hand, a tiny foot sliding across the inside of Sharma’s skin and Rani gasped at the miracle of it.
“I may not have a happy life,” said Sharma. “But in my life, there are moments of happiness. Feeling my child move inside me is one of those moments. Spending time with you is another of those moments. You mustn’t do anything foolish, Rani. Windows are for looking from, not for falling from.”
Rani let her hand fall and Sharma stepped back.
“How did you know?” Rani asked.
“Because you keep looking at the window like it’s going to save your life, which tells me that you’re planning to use it to end it. I know because I’ve thought about doing the same thing every single time I’ve watched the timekeepers turn the orbs.”
“But you haven’t done it,” said Rani, wondering how she never knew this about Sharma.
She shook her head. “I haven’t. And neither will you.”
Rani bit down on her bottom lip to stop her words falling out. She had no intention of backing out of her plan now.
“You will not be falling from any windows.”
Rani stood up to draw level with Sharma. “I will.”
“No, you won’t,” she said, locking her gaze on Rani. “Because I have a better plan.”
AZRAEL
THE BEFORE
Azrael went to the Round at even-time to wait for Rani, wondering what this new turn of the sand would bring. The last time she’d come here, she certainly hadn’t expected events to unfold in the way they did.
As the sand slipped through the orbs, so did her hope. Rani wasn’t coming out. Had she changed her
mind, or had someone prevented her from leaving? She’d been awfully worried about missing dinner the previous nightfall. And it hadn’t seemed to be the lack of food she was worried about.
She ran her hand across the grass and looked up at the Princess’s window. Had meeting her been some kind of dream? Then she remembered the feel of Rani’s hand on her arm and knew it’d been real. She touched her arm now, certain it was still warm.
Her reaction to Rani’s touch had been one of surprise, not so much repulsion or fear. It’d caught her off guard. Never had she expected that. However, nothing about the Princess had been as she expected. Azrael didn’t think she’d ever met anyone she liked better.
Just when she was about to give up, Rani appeared at her window, her eyes searching the lawn. Azrael raised a hand, then caught herself and pretended she was straightening her veil.
Rani was miming something at her, holding her two hands as fists, her right on top of her left, then turning them to put the left hand on top. Whatever did that mean? She pointed at the orbs, then the lawn, and made that strange action again.
Oh! She wanted to meet Azrael on the next turn. Something must’ve happened. Something important. At least she hadn’t been released into the desert for missing her dinner.
Azrael nodded up at her, then looked away so as not to draw attention or suspicion. But nobody was paying attention to the skinny girl on the lawn. They were all too busy inside their own heads, worrying about their own lives. They didn’t have time or concern for her.
She got up and decided that today was as good a day as any to report into the Jobs Master. It was widely believed he assigned the better jobs to those who came to him, rather than those whose selfishness forced him to seek them out. Adding that to the fact she’d volunteered at the Conception Center and there was a possibility of her being pregnant, she was expecting one of the lightest jobs of all. A weaver perhaps? She liked the idea of sitting in a circle with a group of women transforming simple yarn into fabrics to keep them modest and warm.
She joined the line to see the Master, who sat behind a table with a large book open in front of him. Much like the Registrar who’d recorded her name at the Conception Center. She shuddered at the memory. At least whatever the Jobs Master assigned her, wouldn’t be as bad as the hell the Registrar had sent her hurtling toward.
As she got closer to the front of the queue, she could hear the conversation as people tried to negotiate a better deal, providing a list of reasons as to why the task they’d been assigned wasn’t suitable. It didn’t seem the Jobs Master had a lot of empathy. One by one, he turned them away with a wave of his hand, telling them everyone needed to do their bit.
The woman in front of Azrael reached the desk and Azrael fiddled with her veil as she pretended not to listen.
“Please, Master,” the woman said, her voice cracking under the strain. “I’d like to respectfully request a new task. I beg it of you, please.”
“Name,” he said, barely looking up from his book as he flicked the pages, looking to solve the irritation standing before him.
She gave her name and waited as he found her record.
Azrael brushed some sand from her sleeve as she wondered what job could be so bad it would reduce this strong-looking woman to such a state.
“The Waste Center,” the Master said, as his finger landed on her name.
Azrael grimaced. No wonder this woman wanted to change jobs. The Waste Center was the very worst place to work out of all the worst places. Carrying buckets of human waste out into the desert was necessary but not desirable by any means.
“Yes, Master,” the woman said. “I’ve done it for many Shinings now and my back is aching from the weight of the buckets. I can’t bear the pain. I feel I’d contribute more effectively to the kingdom in another role. Please, Master. I’m too old for this work now.”
The Master looked her up and down, like he was inspecting a goat at the market. “You don’t look old to me. I see you’re still on the Registrar’s books, not that you’ve produced a child for your kingdom yet. Request denied.”
He dipped his feather in a pot of ink and made a note next to her name in his book.
“Don’t send me back there.” The woman dropped to her knees in front of the table. “Please. I refuse to go back.”
Azrael held her breath as she waited to see what anger this desperate woman had evoked in the Master.
“Stand up!” he shouted. “Immediately. And return to your job or I’ll have you released.”
Two guards on either side of the table, stepped forward.
“Please Master. I’ve always done as I’ve been told. I’ve contributed. I’ve done my best. But I can’t go back there. Please, assign me a new task and I’ll work hard for the rest of my life.”
The Master sat forward and screwed up his face as he sniffed at the woman. “You smell like your job. It’s a stain on your skin. I cannot send you anywhere else. Return immediately or I’ll have you released.”
The woman leaned back on the heels of her feet, put her arms above her head and spat at the Master, her saliva flying directly from her mouth and landing on the open book.
“Release me,” she said.
Azrael stepped back, almost bumping into the person standing behind her. She wanted to be as far away from this scene as possible. She turned to run and saw she was surrounded by people. Leaving in a hurry without touching anybody would be impossible. She’d only end up being released right next to this poor woman who’d rather die than carry buckets of excrement for the rest of her life. It broke Azrael’s heart, making her realize that life in the Growing Center hadn’t been so bad after all.
The two guards grabbed the woman with their gloved hands and dragged the woman away. She let her body fall limp to make their job as difficult as possible. Despite calling for her own death, she wasn’t going to march toward it willingly.
They dragged her away until she was out of sight and the crowd dispersed, leaving the path in front of Azrael clear. She’d missed her chance to leave with them and was left standing there, exposed and uncertain. Would the Master treat her more favorably given she was certainly less trouble than the woman before her? Or would his patience have been stretched beyond its already impatient state?
“Next!” The Master glared at her, sending her footsteps forward, despite the wave of dread that washed over her. She should’ve taken her chance to run. She knew it as clearly as she’d known Rani was going to save her life. But she’d gone too far now. Please, just let the Master be merciful. The rest of her life would be impacted by the decision he was about to make.
“Name.” This wasn’t a question. More like a demand.
Azrael gave her name. “I’m not in your book yet,” she said. “I’ve only just left the Growing Center and had my first siring.”
“Don’t assume you’re not in my book,” he said, with a sneer, revealing a set of yellow teeth. “Everyone’s in my book.”
“Sorry.” Azrael forced a smile, becoming aware of the two guards who’d taken the former guards’ place. “May I request a job as a weaver? I showed excellent promise in this field in the Growing Center and I hope to provide the kingdom with a baby soon.”
She’d shown no such promise, but the Master wasn’t to know this. He may have everyone in his book, however, he didn’t know everything about them all.
The Master set down his feather and looked at her. “You’re young. Healthy. Fit. And I have a job that opened recently. Very recently.”
Azrael felt her legs go weak. No, please don’t let him be speaking of the Waste Center. She held her head high and hid her fear, just as she’d done at her siring, glancing at the guards who were bracing themselves, ready to drag her away if instructed. The taller of the two guards looked familiar and she wondered if he’d been in the Growing Center with her. Sometimes it was hard to reconcile adult faces with the rounded innocence of the faces she’d grown up with.
The Master gave her a wa
rm smile, picked up his feather and wrote something in his book. “Report to the Waste Center immediately. There’s a lot of work for you.”
Azrael drew in a sharp breath and went to protest when the guards stepped toward her and she realized where she knew the tall one from. He was a man she’d seen only once before and one she’d hoped never to see again.
She tore her eyes from him and stepped back, holding up her shaking hands to show she wasn’t planning to cause any trouble. The guards resumed their positions and she breathed a sigh, nodding meekly at the Jobs Master, unable to stop her body from shaking. That guard may have stepped back, but he was still far too close to her. The other side of the kingdom would be too close.
She needed to do what the Master told her and go to the worst place of the worst. Because if she didn’t, then the guards were going to put their hands on her and take her to the desert. And it wasn’t the desert she was afraid of. It was the tall guard. The only person other than Rani who’d touched her with bare skin, for he was the volunteer who’d been assigned to her in the Conception Center. She was certain of it. And he wasn’t going to touch her again. Not ever. Just seeing him again now was bringing back enough memories. She clasped her hands together to try to stop the shaking, but it was no use. Her legs were wobbling now, as if in sympathy, and she knew if she didn’t get away soon, she was in danger of collapsing.
“Thank you, Master,” she said, aware of the warm stream of liquid running down her leg as the contents of her bladder spilled out, puddling at the base of her long dress.
She walked away, hoping nobody had noticed and wondering if Rani would allow her into her bedchamber so she could throw herself from the window. Perhaps they’d jump together. Because the whole crazy idea of it suddenly seemed not crazy at all. It seemed like the best of all the worst ideas she’d ever had.
SHARMA
THE BEFORE
Sharma had seen the light flood back into Rani’s eyes at the idea she had a plan, without Rani even knowing what her plan might be. That’s what desperation does. It forces a person to clutch onto a straw, hoping it might save them from the sand that’s threatening to swallow them whole.
The Kingdoms of Evernow Box Set Page 49
