Gem looks between us before rolling her eyes.
“W-When will we get to come home?” Twilynn asks, blanching at the dagger in her quivering hand.
The commander peers through his glasses. “After you eliminate the threat.”
“But what does that mean?” Gem presses. “What if we reach our target, and there’s nothing there? Can we just come back?”
He flips through a pocket-sized version of our constitution, as if he hadn’t thought to memorize the Hunt’s conditions of return, because no one truly expects us to return.
“I, um?—”
As someone whohasstudied it yearly on the eve of selection, I interrupt his blustering. “The drafted soldiers may return under the following condition: for each Huntress remaining alive at the time of repatriation, the irrefutable proof of one Sol destroyed by each requestor’s hand must be presented at the Gate, thus furthering suitable circumstances for the city of Caligo to emerge and establish a secure fortress impenetrable from future attacks.”
I glance at Gem, hoping she pays close attention to these next words. “Requestors may also be repatriated if they are found to survive for more than seven days outside of the Gate; however, the requestor will be dishonorably received. A trial may be held to determine whether the circumstances of their return are defensible or an act of dereliction of duty, but they cannot be denied access to the city,emergency medical care, or the right to legal representation.”
“So, if one of us kills ten Sols, we can all come back?” Twilynn asks, perking up a little as she glances at Kalden.
The commander shakes his head rapidly. “No, no, that’s not how the rules are interpreted. If there are ten of you alive, all ten need to be at the Gate with proof that each of you killed a Sol. The cameras in your helmets will allow us to see who has accomplished their mission. It’s everyone or no one.”
Pinpricks trace down the back of my neck and along my spine as the eyes of the other Huntresses slide to me. Each of us holds the fate of nine others in our hands, and mine are too slow, too weak. Even if by some miracle the others could kill enough Sols, the only way they’d be welcomed back into the city without the threat of a trial is if I kill one too . . . or if I die.
The grim set of their jaws tells me they’ve come to similar conclusions.
“We’re expected to kill almost every single Sol in the area? It might not even be possible to make sure everybody is able to kill one without going past the northern edge of the dunes.” Gem’s green irises flare. “It could take weeks. We won’t be able to fit enough food in these knapsacks to hold us over that long.”
The Commander of the Guard straightens, rolling his shoulders back. “You will face hardship, but duty is not without sacrifice.”
What sacrifices haveyoumade?I clamp my mouth shut, keeping the question contained in my mind, not without effort.
Unlike us, most guards will never know the misfortune of direct encounters with our greatest enemy. They limit their outside patrols to the evening hours and cower behind the nightstone barrier during the day. To my understanding, the commander never even leaves the lower city. What does he know of sacrifice beyond a sore ass and boredom?
The commander’s voice resounds once more through the war room. “All of your questions have been answered, Huntresses . . . and Hunter. You are soldiers of Caligo now. Your city expects you to act like it. Show bravery and courage in battle. And when your time comes, die with dignity.”
That’s all we are—a sacrifice meant to appease, not to live. My fingers clench, finding minimal comfort in the whirring release of the curved blades.
To my right, Kalden’s irises are bright with unspoken judgement.
Lifting his chin, the commander takes note of the piercing intensity. He grabs onto the handcuffs dangling from his belt as he prowls forward through those surrounding the table. “Tonalli, is it? Do you have something to add?”
Before Kalden spits out one of his reckless critiques, I nudge my elbow into his side. This isn’t the right place or person. The guard who “oversaw” our training might’ve dismissed Kalden’s accusatory tone, but as the head of Caligo’s armed forces, Commander Guffian may not be so forgiving.
Molten gold eyes lock onto mine before flicking back up. “No.”
With a satisfied nod, the commander releases the handcuffs and clasps a hand on Kalden’s shoulder. “Mind your face, boy. Your attitude is unbecoming for a man of Caligo.”
“I agree, sir,” Kalden grits through his teeth.
A hunched-forwardCoraline Lunam perks up when she spots us rounding the bend of the main spiral stairwell.
The massive moon pendant illuminates a small crowd gathered around the perimeter of the landing chamber. Only Caligo’s mostinfluential are invited to witness the official departure of the Hunt in person.
Still, I scrutinize the faces, searching for my parents or Taur.
Standing proudly at the top of the stairs to the left of the towering gate is Chancellor Bren, with his dutiful wife at his side, followed by his personally selected daughter-in-law—my replacement. We share a similar stature and hair color, but that’s where the resemblance ends. There’s not a single tangle or stray frizz in sight in her slicked-back ponytail. No wrinkles in her figure-hugging dress or pristine complexion. Dense lashes frame her blue-green irises, which stare unblinkingly forward while her six sons fidget and snicker beside her.Gabe’ssons, I remind myself.
Yet Gabe himself is nowhere to be seen. The coward couldn’t be bothered to look me in the eye as I’m evicted from our haven.
Coraline’s heels clap against the polished granite floor as she strides forward to greet us and gestures for a camera operator to follow.
