The Shadow Games, page 4
Her gaze moved to each of us in turn—everyone except Cayden. “This is, without question, the worst part of my job. But you must understand that in order to keep our society safe and for citizens to trust us, there can be no doubt as to your loyalty. There is also no question of you returning to your families to choose a different career path. Without proper training, your abilities make you a danger to society.”
Her words washed over me. The thread of worry that had tied my stomach in knots tightened. Tears of shame burned the back of my eyes and I dug my fingernails into my thighs, hoping the pain would stop me from throwing up or, worse, crying.
I failed. Years of work, hours spent preparing for the exams, and never once did I think I would fail.
How can this be?
It was only then that Layla’s hastily scribbled words came back to me.
Everything the society does is for our protection.
Did my own sister think I’d fail this test?
Your commitment to our values and the laws of our society is questionable.
I glanced down at my clenched fists. I was loyal to the society. I believed in protecting citizens and eradicating crime. There must have been an error in the test.
“So if you won’t let us into the Academy and we can’t go back to our families, where do we go?” Daria asked. Unlike Shui and Aidan, who looked terrified, Daria and Cayden each wore a calm, resolute expression, as if this was all some terrible misunderstanding that would soon be cleared up.
The corner of the director’s mouth twitched, giving me the impression she’d been faced with this reaction many times. “You will be taken down to the city floor. Your parents will be told there was a tragic accident, that you had an undiagnosed heart or brain condition and reacted badly to the test. They will be compensated and permitted to hold a memorial service for you.”
We sat in stunned silence.
Cayden was the first to react, exploding out of his chair. He stood stiffly in front of his aunt, his fists clenched at his sides. Although they were related, they didn’t look much alike. Cayden’s father was the son of King Alexander’s first wife. When she’d died, the king had taken Saskia’s mother, Adrienne, as his second consort.
“There has obviously been some mistake, Director,” he said stiffly.
“I’m sorry, Cayden.” Saskia gave him a sad smile. “There are no exceptions to this rule, even for you.”
“I believe Grandfather would disagree.” The prince’s words were pure ice, but Saskia didn’t quail.
“It was your grandfather who put the rule in place. I double checked, but I had a personal note from him confirming his decision.”
With that, the fight seemed to go out of Cayden and he sank into a chair, his face pale. Something flickered across Saskia’s eyes as she looked down at him. Pity perhaps? Or sorrow?
Daria wouldn’t give up that easily. “Surely he didn’t mean for you to condemn his own grandson. Your nephew.”
Perhaps she thought that if she could ally herself with the prince, she would also be saved. I didn’t blame her. My mind whirred. Even if I’d had a few bad thoughts, I hadn’t done anything wrong. How could I be a threat to society?
“Please, sit down,” the director said coldly. “I would hate to have to restrain you.”
Daria tried to step toward her, but her leg stopped in mid-air. Her brow furrowed. I could see the tension in her body, the way she strained against . . . nothing.
I glanced over at the two silent figures in the corner. The Guardian stood passively, her hands clasped in front of her, but the Peacekeeper stared at Daria, his expression focused.
He’s stopping her. Somehow, he’s preventing her from moving.
Daria’s eyes widened. “What . . .”
“Sit down, Miss Rothschild,” Saskia said smoothly.
Reluctantly, Daria obeyed, shooting the Peacekeeper a look that clearly conveyed her wish to personally skin him alive.
The director released her grip on the lectern. “You will be escorted down to the city floor and given provisions. Good luck.” She nodded to the Guardian, who opened the door. Gray-clad figures filed in, and the small room suddenly felt crowded.
“Wait!” I was on my feet before quite registering the fact that I’d spoken.
The director paused on her way to the door. “Yes, Miss Rodriguez?”
I took a deep breath, feeling everyone’s eyes on me. “I believe there has been some mistake with the test. I am loyal to the society. I would like a retest, please.”
Saskia gave me a tired smile. “I’m sorry. The results of your test were quite clear.”
“How? I haven’t done anything wrong. I haven’t said anything wrong. I . . .” My voice trailed off as the realization struck me. My thoughts criticizing the society were all in my head. The Guardian in the room knew what I was thinking. How is that possible?
“Your results were clear,” Saskia repeated. “I’m sorry, Miss Rodriguez.” With a brief nod, she turned and left the room.
“Follow us.” A Peacekeeper grasped my arm firmly, yet gently.
In the end, only Aidan fought his captors. He got in a few decent blows before they did something to him, and his eyes rolled back into his head.
I felt numb as the Peacekeeper guided me down a short corridor. “Where are we going?”
“We’re taking you to the transport hanger,” the Guardian accompanying me replied. “There are pods waiting to take you and your friends down to the city below.”
They’re not my friends, I wanted to say, but it seemed pointless. Her final words scrolled through my mind, like the news headlines that crawled across the bottom of our holonet screen. The city below . . . The city below . . .
The place they sent criminals to die.
The corridor seemed to close in around me as we walked. I stumbled. A hand reached out to support me, but I shrugged it off. My heart pounded in my ears as I fought for breath.
I was dimly aware that we’d entered a large space filled with noise but it was only when the footsteps accompanying me stopped that I tore my gaze from the floor and looked up.
A silver pod stood in front of me, its door open. A gentle nudge from behind encouraged me forward, but I resisted, turning to look around. A short distance away, Cayden approached an identical pod, the Peacekeepers and Guardian standing outside it bending their heads in a token of respect.
Shock rippled through me as I caught sight of the Guardian designated to take him down to the city below. As she raised her head and turned to follow him into the pod, she caught sight of me and her eyes widened.
“Layla!” I started running toward her, but I didn’t get ten paces before invisible hands pulled me back. I landed in a heap at the Peacekeeper’s feet.
Layla made a move toward me, mouthing my name, but the Guardian who’d accompanied Cayden into the hanger placed a hand on her arm. The man looked from Layla to me, then said something to her. My sister shook her head violently and tried to push him away, but the man’s grip was firm. Whatever he said next made her sag and go still, as if the fight had been sucked out of her.
I was pulled to my feet and dragged the remaining distance to my own pod. “Layla, please! I haven’t done anything wrong. The test didn’t work!”
But my beloved sister, who bandaged my cuts and bruises when I’d hurt myself as a kid, who held me when the nightmares woke me, who gossiped with me about boys and taught me how to apply makeup, just stared at me as if she no longer knew me.
Then I was shoved inside the pod and the door closed, forever cutting off the world I had known.
Chapter 5
The City Floor
I SAT IN SILENCE AS the pod left the hangar. My body felt numb. I had no words to beg for mercy, no energy left to fight for my freedom.
How could this have happened?
I had always believed that if I worked hard enough, I would succeed. Failure was never an option. I had been so close, but somehow, I had let my dream slip through my fingers.
Perhaps if Layla hadn’t visited this morning, if I hadn’t walked with her to the transporter deck and seen Marissa’s arrest, I wouldn’t have thought to question what I’d seen on the screen. Somehow, it felt easier to blame someone else for my misfortune. I brought my knees up to my chest and hugged them.
“There’s a bag of supplies for you.” The Peacekeeper sitting across from me pointed to a small backpack next to my seat. I eyed it, wondering if there was anything in there that would keep me alive for more than a week. Not if the little I’d heard about the city below was true.
“What’s it like down there?” I asked in a small voice.
He exchanged a glance with his colleague. “We don’t really see much of it,” he muttered. “We just drop people off.”
The Guardian sitting next to me placed her hand on my knee. I supposed the gesture was meant to comfort me, but her touch made me flinch. “When we leave you, your abilities will return,” she said. “You must learn to control them if you are to survive.”
I stared at her. “My abilities? You mean like that . . . that thing the Peacekeeper did to me?”
She smiled sympathetically. “People have different abilities and different strengths. In time, you’ll learn what yours are.”
That’s assuming I survive long enough.
“Why can’t you tell me? Surely it doesn’t matter to you once you’ve left me to die?”
Neither the Guardian nor the Peacekeepers answered. I glared at them, daring them to meet my gaze and wishing I could give them a taste of their own medicine. I looked down at my hands. Could I throw people around? Have sparks fly from my fingers?
The headache I’d had since the first test was now a monotonous ache, like a tight band squeezing my skull. I picked up the backpack. “Are there any headache pills in here?”
“There are painkillers, but you won’t need them once you’re down there,” the Guardian said.
Another cryptic remark.
The Peacekeeper farthest away from me turned to a small screen and control panel on the wall. “We’re approaching the barrier. Slowing down.”
The pod didn’t have large windows like the transporter pod I’d taken to the Academy, but there were a number of small round portholes. I peered through one, surprised to find we were already near the base of the towers. Faint twinkling lights from the lowest levels pierced the gloom. I wondered what time it was. Judging by the rumbling in my belly, I’d guess late evening.
This morning, I had imagined myself watching the sunset from inside the white spire of the Academy. I had almost felt the giddy excitement of visiting home to pick up my things, seeing Mom and Dad’s proud smiles as they hugged me goodbye, pictured myself in the white trainee uniform, a single crown adorning each shoulder.
I tasted blood in my mouth. The pain from where I’d bitten my tongue was a welcome distraction from the agonizing thoughts of what I had lost.
The pod inched down into a dark fog that swirled around the windows, blocking the towers from view. The lights dimmed, and I sensed the Guardian next to me shift uneasily in her seat. Tension filled the air, seeping into my skin, and I shivered, though it wasn’t cold. If I was going to die, I’d rather it be sudden and quick, not this drawn-out torture that had every bone in my body jangling with fear.
“What’s the holdup?” the Guardian asked. There was a slight edge to her voice. Clearly my captors weren’t any keener to be here than me.
“Just waiting for acknowledgment,” the Peacekeeper replied. A light on the control panel pulsed green. “Right. Here we go.”
The pod hummed and continued descending. The Peacekeeper had mentioned a barrier, but I couldn’t see anything out of the window except the thick black smoke that separated the towers above from the city floor below.
Then suddenly, the tension inside the pod eased. I frowned as my head throbbed, realizing that for the past few seconds, my headache had disappeared. Now it was back with a vengeance.
The Guardian let out a sigh of relief and rolled her shoulders. “I always hate that part.”
“Get ready, Miss Rodriguez,” the Peacekeeper across from me said. “We’re not hanging around.”
When I didn’t reply, he picked up the backpack from the floor and shoved it into my arms. Then the pod door slid open and a hot wind rushed in. My long hair whipped around my face, stinging my eyes. I blinked frantically, trying to make out what was outside the pod, but everything just seemed dark.
“Jump!”
“What?” I turned to the Peacekeeper.
He smiled, not unkindly. “Jump. And good luck, Miss Rodriguez.”
I gaped at him. How far were we above the ground? Perhaps this was how I was going to die and the backpack was just for show. A long fall, then a quick death.
“Now!” the Guardian snapped.
Someone shoved my back. I reached out for the pod door but was too slow. I screamed and my stomach lurched as I fell into the inky blackness.
I was wrong about the long drop.
My body slammed into the ground, knocking the air from my lungs. After a moment of shock while I gasped for breath, my nerves sent a red alert to my brain that I’d banged my knee. I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut to stop myself from crying out. Gradually, the pain subsided to a dull throbbing and I opened my eyes to look around.
It wasn’t quite the pitch blackness I’d originally thought. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I began to make out vague shapes and outlines. There were even lights in some of the buildings, glowing faintly in the darkness. And if there were lights, there were people.
Perhaps it isn’t as dead down here as I thought.
I gave my knee a prod, and reassured that there was no real damage, climbed to my feet. There was no sign of the pod or anyone else. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. The air was warm and muggy with a sour aftertaste, like the compost bin in our garden-yard. My hands trembled with adrenaline as I fumbled with the fastening on my backpack, hoping the Guardians had found enough kindness in their hearts to give me a flashlight.
A wet snuffling noise stopped me in my tracks. I froze and peered into the shadows around me. There was a faint scratching, like a fingernail running along a tabletop, then the snuffling picked up again. When a pair of blood-red eyes blinked out at me, a squeak escaped my lips before I could clamp them shut.
Rats!
I scrambled backward, trying to put as much distance between me and the thing as I could. We had rats in the towers, of course, but they were small, brown things that scuttled through the ventilation shafts and ran at the first sight of a person. Whereas this must be the size of a cat, and rather than running away from me, it crept closer.
The eyes glowed as the creature observed me. Probably debating how tasty I’d be and how much of a fight I’d put up if it decided to take a bite.
I plunged my hand into the backpack, pushing aside a water bottle and candy bars until my fingers, slick with sweat, felt the smooth plastic of a flashlight. The bright white beam of light cut through the darkness, illuminating the creature in front of me. I nearly dropped the flashlight. It was a rat. Or at least what a rat would look like if you pumped it full of steroids and implanted red lenses in its eyes.
Its thick tail swept across the floor, causing a cloud of dust to rise around it. I took a step back. The rat scuttled forward, stretching out its long nose and sniffing the air.
“Go away,” I told it, waving my arm in what I hoped was a threatening manner. “I’m not worth bothering with.”
The rat seemed to disagree. The scratching of its claws as it moved closer sent a shiver racing down my spine. I waved the flashlight at it, the beam bobbing in the dark, but it just blinked its red eyes and thumped its tail on the ground.
I swept the beam to one side, wondering if I dared point it down at my backpack to look for a weapon. The light found a second pair of red eyes, then a third. I swallowed, trying to control my rising panic as I slowly hooked the backpack over my shoulder. I was about to run when a voice stopped me.
“You should switch that off, you know. They’re attracted to the light, and if you keep it on, other, worse things will come hunting.”
It was a male voice with an odd accent. From his tone, he was amused about something.
Probably me.
“What if you’re just waiting for me to turn it off so you can jump me?” I asked, trying to search for the voice’s owner while simultaneously keeping one eye on the rat that was now just five feet away. It was useless. I couldn’t look in two places at once. Plus, the dazzling beam of my flashlight had ruined my night vision.
“If I’d wanted to attack you, I’d have already done it.”
I jumped as the voice spoke right into my ear. His warm breath tickled my neck, and a spark of anger ignited in my stomach.
How dare he sneak up on me.
“Now, will you please turn that thing off? Or I’ll have to bag this little chap for dinner.”
“You eat rats?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
A hand closed around my wrist, making me squeal.
“Stop it!”
“Stop what?” I was confused.
Before I could protest, the man slipped the flashlight from my hand and switched it off.
“You’re hurting my head,” he growled. “I should have known you were one of them.”
“One of who?” I blinked frantically, bright spots dancing across my vision.
I sensed the man pull back and reached out, catching hold of a muscled forearm.
“Wait. You have to help me.”
He grunted and began to pry my fingers loose. “I don’t have to help anyone. And right now, you are putting me in danger. The slavers will be here any minute.”
“The slavers?”
Giant rats. Slavers. What other horrors did the city floor hold?
A scream ripped through the darkness.
“Sounds like they’ve found one of your friends already.”
