“You did that in front of hundreds of Silvers, people who will ask questions, people with power,” she hisses in my ear, her sickly sweet breath washing over my face. “That is the only reason you are still alive.”
My hands clench and I wish for the lightning again, but it doesn’t come. She knows what I’m doing and laughs openly. Stars explode behind my eyes, clouding my vision, but I hear her go in a swirl of rustling silk. My sight returns just in time to see her dress disappear around a corner, leaving me well and truly alone in the cell. I barely make it back to the bench, fighting the urge to throw up.
Exhaustion comes over me in waves, starting in my muscles and sinking into my bones. I am only human, and humans are not supposed to deal with days like today. With a jolt, I realize my wrist is bare. The red band is gone, taken away. What could that mean? Tears sting my eyes, threatening to fall, but I will not cry. I have that much pride left.
I can fight the tears, but not the questions. Not the doubt growing in my heart.
What’s happening to me?
What am I?
I open my eyes to see a Security officer staring at me from the other side of the bars. His silver buttons shine in the low light, but they’re nothing compared to the glare bouncing off his bald head.
“You have to tell my family where I am,” I blurt out, sitting straight up. At least I said I loved them, I remember, thinking back to our last moments.
“I don’t have to do anything but take you upstairs,” he replies, but without much bite. The officer is a pillar of calm. “Change your clothes.”
Suddenly, I realize I still have a half-burned uniform hanging off me. The officer points at a neat pile of clothes near the bars. He turns his back, allowing me some semblance of privacy.
The clothes are plain but fine, softer than anything I’ve ever worn before. A long-sleeved white shirt and black pants, both of them decorated with a single silver stripe down each side. There are shoes as well, black oiled boots that rise to my knees. To my surprise, there isn’t a stitch of red on the clothes. But why, I do not know. My ignorance is becoming a theme.
“All right,” I grumble, fighting the last boot up my leg. As it slides into place, the officer turns around. I don’t hear the jingle of keys, but then, I don’t see a lock. How he plans to let me out of my doorless cage, I’m not sure.
But instead of opening some hidden gate, his hand twitches, and the metal bars bow open. Of course. The jailor would be a—
“Magnetron, yes,” he says with a waggle of his fingers. “And in case you were wondering, the girl you nearly fried is a cousin.”
I almost choke on the air in my lungs, not knowing how to respond. “I’m sorry.” It sounds like a question.
“Be sorry you missed her,” he replies without a hint of jest. “Evangeline is a bitch.”
“Family trait?” My mouth moves faster than my brain and I gasp, realizing what I’ve just said.
He doesn’t strike me for speaking out of turn, though he has every right to. Instead the officer’s face twitches into the shadow of a smile. “I guess you’ll find out,” he says, black eyes soft. “I’m Lucas Samos. Follow me.”
I don’t have to ask to know I have no other choice in the matter.
He leads me out of my cell and up a winding stair, to no less than twelve Security officers. Without a word, they surround me in a well-practiced formation and force me along with them. Lucas stays by me, marching in time with the others. They keep their guns in hand, as if ready for battle. Something tells me the men aren’t here to defend me but to protect everyone else.
When we reach the more beautiful upper levels, the glass walls are strangely black. Tinted, I tell myself, remembering what Gisa said about the Hall of the Sun. The diamondglass can darken on command to hide what shouldn’t be seen. Obviously, I must fall into that category.
With a jolt I realize that the windows change not because of some mechanism but a red-haired officer. She waves a hand at every wall we pass, and some power within her blocks out the light, clouding the glass with thin shade.
“She’s a shadow, a bender of light,” Lucas whispers, noting my awe.
The cameras are here as well. My skin crawls, feeling their electric gaze running over my bones. Normally my head would ache under the weight of so much electricity, but the pain never comes. Something in the shield has changed me. Or maybe it released something, revealing a part of myself locked away for so long. What am I? echoes in my head again, more threatening than before.
Only when we pass through a monstrous set of doors does the electric sensation pass. The eyes cannot see me here. The chamber inside could encompass my house ten times, stilts and all. And directly across from me, his fiery gaze burning into mine, is the king sitting on a diamondglass throne carved into an inferno. Behind him, a window full of daylight quickly fades to black. It might be the last glimpse of the sun I’ll ever see.
Lucas and the other officers march me forward, but they don’t stay long. With nothing but a backward glance, Lucas leads the others out.
The king sits before me, the queen standing on his left, the princes on his right. I refuse to look at Cal, but I know he must be gawking at me. I keep my gaze on my new boots, focusing on my toes so I don’t give over to the fear turning my body to lead.
“You will kneel,” the queen murmurs, her voice soft as velvet.
I should kneel, but my pride won’t let me. Even here, in front of Silvers, in front of the king, my knees do not bend. “I will not,” I say, finding the strength to look up.