Study Collection. Maria V. Snyder
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grown cold. Most of the meals were bland, making the poison easy to spot, while the fruit drinks masked the poison.
Finishing the last item, I turned to Valek. “You bastard. They’re all poisoned.” What a nasty trick; I should have suspected he would pull a stunt like that.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t touch anything on that table.”
Valek’s gaze was stony as he walked toward me. “I’m sorry, Yelena. You’ve failed.”
My heart plunged into my stomach. The dead mouse resuscitated and began to gnaw holes in my gut. I searched the table. What had I missed?
Nothing. I was right. I challenged Valek to prove me wrong.
Without hesitation he raised a cup. “This one is clean.”
“Drink it.” I remembered that cup. It was laced with a bitter poison.
Valek’s hand wavered a bit. He sipped. I bit my lip. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was the cup next to it. Valek held my gaze as he rolled the liquid around his tongue. He spat.
I wanted to jump, to cheer, to dance little circles around him. Instead I said, “Blackberry poison.”
“Yes,” Valek said. He alternated between examining the cup in his hand and absentmindedly staring at the rows of cold food.
“I passed?”
He nodded, still distracted. Then he walked to his desk, and he gently placed the cup down. Shaking his head, he picked some papers up only to put them back unread.
“I should have known you would try to trick me.”
My heated tone drew his eyes. I wished then that I’d remained silent.
“You’re all fired up. And it isn’t because of the test. Explain yourself.”
“Explain? Why do I have to explain? Maybe you should explain why you read my journal.” There, I’d said it.
“Journal?” Valek looked at me in amazement. “I didn’t read anything of yours. But if I had, it would have been within my rights.”
“Why?” I demanded.
An incredulous look settled on Valek’s face. His mouth opened and closed several times before he was able to voice his thoughts. “Yelena, you confessed to murder. You were caught straddling Reyad’s body with a bloody knife in your hand. I searched your file for a motive. There was none. Only a report that you refused to answer all questions.”
Valek stepped closer. He lowered his voice. “Since I don’t know what motivates you to kill, I can’t predict if you’ll do it again or what might set you off. I’m bound by the Code of Behavior, so I had to offer you the choice of becoming the new taster.” He drew a deep breath and continued. “You’ll be very close to the Commander on a daily basis. Until I can trust you, I’ll be watching you.”
My anger leaked away. Why should I expect Valek to trust me when I didn’t trust him?
My composure returned. “How do I win your trust?”
“Tell me why you killed Reyad.”
“You’re not ready to believe me.”
Valek averted his gaze to the conference table. I covered my mouth with my hand. Why had I used the word ready? Ready implied that he would believe me at some point. Pure wishful thinking on my part.
“You’re right,” he said.
We seemed to be at an impasse.
“I passed your test. I want my antidote.”
Roused into action, Valek drew a dose, handing it to me.
“Now what?” I asked.
“Lunch! We’re late.” He hustled me out the door. I gulped the white liquid as we moved.
As we neared the throne room, the noise of many voices speaking at once echoed through the halls. Two of the Commander’s advisers were arguing. Officers and soldiers clumped behind the two advisers. The Commander leaned against a nearby desk, listening intently.
The group debated the best way to locate and recapture a fugitive. The right side insisted upon using an oversupply of soldiers and tracking dogs, while the left claimed that a few clever soldiers would work. Brute force versus intelligence.
The exchange, while loud, lacked anger. The guards stationed around the room stood relaxed. Surmising that this type of debate was common, I wondered if the fugitive was a real person or just part of a hypothetical exercise.
Valek moved next to the Commander. I stood behind them. The debate made me squirm because I couldn’t help imagining myself as the poor soul being hunted.
I pictured myself running through the woods, out of breath, and straining to hear the sounds of pursuit. Unable to blend into a town because a new face would alert the soldiers on patrol. Bored soldiers whose only job was to watch, who were familiar with the town’s inhabitants.
Every citizen of the Territory of Ixia had a specific job. After the takeover, everyone had been appointed an occupation. A citizen was allowed to move to a different town or Military District, but proper forms were required. A completed transfer request needed approval from the supervisor, and proof that a position was being held at the new address. Without the proper documents, a civilian found in the wrong neighborhood was arrested. Visiting other districts was acceptable, but again only as long as the proper papers were obtained and shown to the soldiers on arrival.
While working in isolation with Brazell and Reyad, I had obsessively thought about escape. Thinking of freedom had been better than dwelling on my life as a laboratory rat. With no family or friends outside the manor to hide me, though, the southern lands were my best option, assuming I could penetrate the well guarded border.
I had created elaborate fantasies of stealing away to Sitia, finding an adoptive family and falling in love. Corny, sentimental rubbish, but it was my only elixir. Every day when the experiments began, my mind would focus on Sitia, finding bright colors, loving gestures and warmth. Holding those images in my mind, I endured Reyad’s tests.
But even if I had been given the opportunity to escape, I don’t know if I would have seized it. Although I remembered nothing of my birth family, I did have a family living within the manor house. The other lost children who had been taken in. My sisters. My brothers. My children. I learned with them, I played with them and I took care of them. How could I abandon them? To think of May or Carra taking my place was too much to bear.
I bit on my finger until I tasted blood, and dragged my thoughts back to the present. I had escaped from Brazell. He would leave the castle in two weeks and return home, probably to the next round of experiments with a different laboratory rat. My heart went out to her, whoever she was. Brazell was brutal. She was in for a rough time. But I had saved her from Reyad.
Pulling my hand away from my mouth, I inspected the bite mark. Not too deep, it wouldn’t scar. I traced the network of semicircular scars that covered my fingers and knuckles. When I looked up, I caught Valek staring at my hands. I laced them behind my back.
The Commander raised his hand. Quiet descended in an instant. “Excellent points from both sides. We will put your theories to the test. Two teams.” Pointing to the two main debaters, the Commander said, “You’ll be the Captains. Assemble your team and organize a plan of attack. Recruit as needed. Valek will supply a fugitive from one of his men. You have a fortnight to prepare.”
The noise level rose as the Commander headed toward his office with Valek and I close behind.
Valek shut the office door, muffling the commotion. “Is Marrok’s escape to Sitia still bothering you?” he asked.
The Commander frowned. “Yes. Sloppy work, that pursuit. Marrok must have known you were in MD–8. You really need to train a couple of protégés.”
Valek