Steven Santos - The Culling

“Relax. I didn’t tell him anything. It’s what he told me . He wants to change things. He really does care about the citizens of the Parish.”

Digory sighs. “And you believe that?”

“It’s true. He wants to meet with the leaders of the rebellion, have a face-to-face, hear their grievances, reach a compromise.”

Digory crosses his arms. “How exactly does he plan to accomplish this?”

“Through … ” I clear my throat. “Through me .”

“You mean through me , don’t you?”

“What?”

He moves close again, squeezing my arms. “You didn’t tell him about what we talked about, did you?”

“Of course not!” I shake myself loose. I notice several onlookers giving us the eye and lower my voice. “All he did was ask me to pave the way. I didn’t promise him anything. That’s why I’m telling you now. I wanted to run it by you before-”

“Before you report back to him ?” Digory’s face is on fire. “Have you forgotten what they did to that kid in the alley?”

It’s a memory I’ll never forget, no matter how many dams my brain wedges against it. “That wasn’t Cass. It was the Establishment .”

Digory clenches his fists. “He is the Establishment.”

Now it’s my turn to get angry. “You’re wrong .”

His gaze softens. He reaches out and lifts the pendant Cassius gave me, studying the clasping hands before letting it drop back down against my heart. “Lucian. I saw your brother and Mrs. Bledsoe entering the Citadel. If you love them as much as I know you do, you’ll get them out as soon as possible.”

I’m genuinely touched, even if his fears are unfounded. “Digory, I didn’t mean to just spring this on you. I thought you’d be happy there was someone on your side, willing to listen. Someone that could do something. I can’t risk anymore. I have what’s left of my family to think of.”

He nods. “It means a lot to me that you thought you were helping, but you’re not. I don’t want any part of Cassius’s deal.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets and looks away.

Seeing the disappointment in his eyes sends guilt coursing through me. “If you’re worried I’m going to tell Cass-anyone-about you, don’t be. It was a bad idea to mention it.”

“Probably worse than you realize.” His eyes dart through the crowd before returning to me, filled with sadness. “Besides, I’m more worried about you . Be careful, Lucian. If Cassius Thorn promised to protect you and your brother from the Recruitment, you can bet there’s a price. Just be sure you’re prepared to pay it.”

He turns and walks away, swallowed by the crowd.

“Digory! Where’re you going? Come back! I didn’t tell him anything! I swear it!” I shout, not caring who hears me.

But he’s gone, vanished as though he never existed, leaving me surrounded by thousands and feeling utterly alone.

The palatial Ceremonial Suite is nearly twice the size of Cassius’s private quarters. I hurry past two Imposers flanking the archway that leads to an open-air observation platform.

“What took you so long? Is anything the matter?” Cassius asks. He’s seated at the head of an oblong table with Cole and Mrs. Bledsoe, shrouded in shadows created by the awnings of the suite’s massive Palladian windows. Just beyond them, glaring sunlight beats down on the panoramic balcony roosting over town square.

I smile and sit in the empty chair. “Nope. It was hell getting past the mob out there.” I avoid his gaze. “Did I miss anything?”

He sips from his goblet. “Just breaking bread and getting reacquainted with the charming Mrs. Bledsoe and little Cole here.”

Mrs. Bledsoe pushes her empty plate aside. “Charming? Me? I don’t think anyone’s ever referred to me as such!” Her attempt at laughing degenerates into a bout of coughing. She clasps the handkerchief to her mouth.

I go over to her, kneeling by her chair. “Are you all right?”

She waves me away. “Yes, yes, don’t mind me. It’s all the excitement.”

“You should relax, Mrs. Bledsoe,” Cassius says. “After the ceremony, I’ll have my personal physician take a look at you.”

“Why, I couldn’t possibly-”

“I insist ,” Cassius interrupts her. “You are the mother of a Recruit who prevailed during her Trials. You’ve also been like a mother to Lucky.” He smiles at me. “That makes us family.”

“Lucky!” Cole runs over and pulls me to my feet. “You can see the whole Parish from up here!” He giggles. “Uncle Cass says everyone looks like itty bitty ants!”

I turn to Cassius, who’s beaming. “Oh, he did, huh?” But suddenly the image of the townspeople as insects makes me very uncomfortable.

A familiar Imp stops at the threshold, clicks her boots, and salutes. It’s Captain Valerian. “Sir.”

Cassius rises. “Did you get the itinerary I requested, Captain?”

“Yes, Sir. It’s ready for your approval.”

“Very good.” He turns to us. “Please excuse me for a second. This won’t take long.”

“Sure, don’t worry about us,” I say.

His eyes penetrate deep. “But I do worry about you. Very much so.” He stands and crosses to the archway leading back into the suite, huddling with Valerian as a half-dozen government aides clad in stiff gray suits bustle about, checking hovering mics in anticipation of Cassius’s speech and lighting the torches on either side of the podium erected on the balcony.

I turn to Cole and Mrs. Bledsoe. “So what do you think of him, guys?”

She cranes her neck to stare at him. “He certainly looks all grown up.”

I take in the sight of Cassius in his uniform and pride fills my heart. “He is .”

Mrs. Bledsoe shakes her head. “I can still see that little boy cowering behind those eyes. Shy and angry all at once.”

Unease settles over me. “I don’t know what you mean. Cass was always kind to me. Protective.”

“There’s a very thin line that separates being protective and being possessive.”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re saying,” I respond, feeling a little annoyed.

She smiles. “No, I don’t suppose you’d be able to see it.”

Cole’s busy stuffing his mouth with chunks of chocolate cake he’s lifted off the dessert tray. His mouth and fingers are coated with frosting, which he smears against the fine linen tablecloth, totally oblivious. I’m about to scold him but decide against it. For once in his life let him get sick of eating too much, even if he pukes it all up. It’ll probably be the last time he ever has the chance to. Besides, after the way I gorged myself in Cassius’s suite, who am I to judge?

Cass returns to the table. His face is flushed, probably from nerves. “We’re ready to begin now.”

I smile at him. “You’ll do great.”

He just nods without saying a word and walks past us.

As soon as he steps onto the balcony, his presence smothers the hubbub of the spectators below. The mic hovering over him activates with a low hum. The glare of spotlights brush over him, painting his body into a dark silhouette.

“Citizens of the Parish,” he begins. “It is an honor to stand before you as your new Prefect, as one who has lived amongst you, on this Day of Recruitment, a time-honored tradition of service and dedication to the pinnacle of justice. The Establishment.”

At first, the applause is lukewarm, but as the spotlights caress the crowd with their telltale beams, the momentum builds to a never-ending rumble of thunder.

My eyes strain to catch an improbable glimpse of Digory in that multitude. I can’t help but think of the loneliness etched in his face. I know I need to make things right between us.