“Oh, but you are so wrong, Lucian. He has everything to do with it. You have already begun to corrupt him with your arcane literature-stolen, I might add, from the very library where you are apprenticed, and which you are entrusted to protect.”
The old pages I’d brought home from the library.
Cole’s story.
“The Lady.” Cole squirms out of Mrs. Bledsoe’s grasp and runs to Cassius.
I lunge to intercept him, but two Imps aim their weapons at my head and I freeze.
Cassius has already scooped Cole into his arms. He smiles at him and I feel shards of ice pierce my flesh. “You know this Lady, Cole?”
“I … ” Cole’s eyes dart to the pages in Cassius’s hand, then to me, then back to Cassius. His face trembles with confusion and fear. “I’m not supposed to tell.” His voice is barely above a whisper.
Cassius shakes his head. “Of course you aren’t supposed to tell.” His eyes find mine. “Your brother taught you to lie very well.”
He tosses the pages into a nearby torch. Instantly, the paper curls into crisp blackness, extinguishing the lights of the Lady’s city forever.
Cole wriggles free of Cassius’s clutches but doesn’t say a word. Instead, he just stands there, his eyes transfixed on the flames eating away at his dreams.
I try to run to him, but a heavy boot slams into my ribs. The pain is agonizing. I curl into a ball, wrapping my arms around my midsection, yet that only seems to make it worse. My throat floods with bile.
Cassius pats Cole’s head and shakes his own in mock sorrow. “There you have it, my Good People. This poor, innocent child’s mind has been subverted by his very own brother, who, instead of protecting him and raising him to be a law-abiding citizen, is inculcating him into the ways of treason and sedition.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself!” Mrs. Bledsoe shouts at Cassius, her voice filled with more strength than I’ve heard in forever. “After all you’ve meant to each other, all his parents did for you. You’re all he’s talked about for the past couple of years-”
“Mrs. Bledsoe, no. Please,” I call out.
“Of course,” Cassius sneers. “The self-appointed mother speaks out. The one that instead of providing guidance and morality to these two lost youths has enabled them on their path to destruction. From where I’m standing, that makes you an accessory to their crimes. Is it any wonder your own daughter refuses to have anything to do with you?”
I pull myself up to my knees, fingers clasped. “Leave them alone.”
“You’re right,” Mrs. Bledsoe continues. “I’ve been like family to the Spark boys. I’m older. I should have known better. I failed in looking after them when their folks died. I’m the one that should be punished, not them.”
My eyes bounce between them. “Stop this! This is insane. Cass, for the love of-”
“There is no love when our society is threatened!” Cassius bellows. “You are each guilty of acts of subversion against our government. As Prefect, the onus is on me to mete out a suitable punishment.”
Then it all clicks. Desiree Morningside’s convenient suicide, the empty slot in the Recruitment. My trial and conviction before all.
My worst nightmare’s coming true …
I spring to my feet. “Just execute me. Let them go.”
Pity fills his eyes. “The Establishment is not a heartless entity. Like a parent, we must be stern and deal harshly with our children, even though we still love them. In the spirit of compassion and the possibility of redemption, I hereby name Lucian Spark as the final Recruit, with Cole Spark and Edwina Bledsoe as his two Incentives. As you battle for the lives of those you love, Lucian, may it give you time to reflect on your errors in judgment and reignite the flame of patriotism you so obviously lack.” He turns to the Imposers. “Take them.”
“Lucky!” Cole screams.
I tear away from the Imps and stagger to my brother, folding him up in my arms and squeezing him as tight as I can. “I’m so sorry, buddy … I’m so sorry … ” The moment seems frozen in time, as if nothing has come before it and nothing will come after it.
Hands dig into my shoulders and rip us apart.
I strain against my captors, reaching out my fingers, which graze Cole’s. Trails of heat stream down my cheeks. “Don’t be scared. I promise I’ll take you home. And I’ll find you a new story to read, over and over again. And it will be the best story ever, ’cause it’ll never end, just like us. I love you, Cole.”
Then I’m dragged inside the Ceremonial Suite, away from my sobbing brother and Mrs. Bledsoe, leaving my heart behind.
“Wait!” Cassius calls. The Imps drop me to the ground. Cassius steps through the archway and kneels beside me.
“Why?” I ask, a short question to fill a gigantic void.
Though I’m surprised by the tears in his eyes, I’m not moved. Not anymore. Not by anything.
“You broke my heart, Lucky. I came to you for help, and you chose him over me.”
I’m too dazed to immediately register what he’s talking about. Until I catch a glimpse of a face on the jumbotrons behind him.
Digory. Another non-coincidence in this never-ending chain of events.
Cassius reaches down and caresses the silver chain around my neck. “A simple transmitter. When I found that poster on you, I thought you’d lead me to the rebels eventually, though I had no idea how soon. Imagine my shock to discover that you went right to him and agreed to keep his activities a secret from me, the person you claimed to care so much about. The person who would have done anything for you.” He rips the chain from my neck, cutting into the skin.
But nothing can hurt me anymore.
“Digory’s a good person. More of a man than you’ll ever be, Cassius.”
A flicker of hurt in his eyes flames into a glare. He signals the Imps, who jerk me to my feet to face him.
“I hope you enjoy your time with this Digory. Especially since you’ll be competing against each other to save the ones you love from the Culling.” He leans in closer, his hot breath like irons on my cheeks. “Tell me, Lucky, is he worth Cole’s life to you?”
I spit in his face.
His eyes are green skewers. Nostrils flare. He flicks away the foamy trail trickling off his chin.
Valerian slings a metal collar around my neck and clamps it tight. I gasp. Then the other Imps hook a leash to it.
The last thing I glimpse, as I’m hauled away from the archway, is my face plastered on the jumbotrons right next to Digory’s.
PART 2
Eleven
The freighter bulldozes through the black sea, smashing against the crisscrossing whitecaps.
“Attention,” a voice blares from the ship’s com system. “We have arrived at the Infiernos training installation. Prepare to disembark.”
My joints are stiff from days of solitary confinement in a cramped stateroom; the Recruits were separated right after we boarded the ship. Steadying myself against the railing, I take in a lungful of salty sea air and peer over the bow, searching through the patches of early morning mist.
An island looms directly ahead. A huge, steel, domed structure squats on the horizon, pockets of smaller buildings and turrets spreading away from it. One tower rises hundreds of feet above the rest, its peak an oval of clear glass that observes all. Jutting pillars, resembling horns and lined with teeth-like spires, form a perimeter around the complex, which stretches from the shoreline to what appears to be miles deep inland.
“Let’s go.” A tall, thick Imp shoves his weapon into my back and I double over. Clutching the railing, I regain my balance and trudge on as he prods me the rest of the way.