She nods, brow furrowed with concern. If she can’t get in, our entire plot is foiled. Only Gin has the strength to blast the door of the vault. I might be able to pick the lock, but if I can’t, I’m counting on Gin’s newfound power of the gods to get us through.
Then the guard pulls a young man from the bunch. Muscular and fit. He’s directed to go into the house.
The same happens again—another young man, fit and strong. And then a younger boy, maybe thirteen, is sent away like the woman.
They’re only choosing the strongest. Why? Something is amiss. A slight flutter of panic rises in my chest. What’s going on here? But it’s far too late to turn back, not that we’d get another opportunity. And we can’t contact Darius. Whatever’s happening, we need to see it through. We’ve got to get into the palace.
The closer the line inches to the entrance, the better we can see what’s happening, and my suspicion is correct: All the young, old, and most of the women are being rejected, while the hardy and well-fed are sent inside. “What do you suppose is…”
Gin shakes her head before I finish the sentence. She notices it as well. “I’m not sure.”
As we reach the gate, Gin steps in front of me. “I should go first. That way, if I’m not chosen, we can figure out another way.”
I agree, though I don’t know what the alternative might be, or else I would’ve already changed tack. Only two left ahead of us. And then we’ll be up.
A girl is sent away. One more.
There must be another way. “Maybe we should…”
Gin shoves the man in front of her. “I told you to watch where you step!” she yells as he falls to the ground.
The man is confused. “What are you—”
“Get out of here!” the guard shouts at him.
The man gets to his feet and hobbles away without another word. He looks back over his shoulder and shakes his head at Gin.
“You.” The guard points at Gin. “Go inside.”
A subtle half smile graces her lips.
It’s my turn. I must be chosen. The guard’s eyes seem to bore right through my soul. I’m certain I’m about to be rejected, or worse, uncovered as a fraud and arrested. I try not to look anywhere except in the guard’s eyes as he considers me. I stare him down, refusing to appear intimidated.
“You’ll do,” the guard says finally. “Follow the others.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding and hurry to catch up with those who were accepted for the task right before me—whatever that task may be.
As we step inside the gates, we’re greeted by the most incredible residence I’ve ever seen. The palace is filled from top to bottom with automatons like the ones in the city. In the center of the expansive courtyard, elaborate fountains feature animated statues: One collects water in a jug, then spins to pour that water into a vibrant display of flowers. Another carries buckets on her shoulders, and once they fill with water, she tips them to the side and it pours out. Then the same happens with the other side. There are automatons elsewhere, too: a dancing couple gliding back and forth in front of a window; a massive clock on the wall, easily the size of two grown men, that appears to be operated by a crew of fairylike creatures who crank the clock and flit around pressing various knobs and pulling levers. All around the perimeter, instead of stairs, automated lifts carry people up to the higher floors.
If I wasn’t filled with dread, I’d be enthralled with the strange sights. They’re bigger, more impressive, and more numerous than those in Lacon City. The others in the group stare in wonder, too, while simultaneously wringing their hands, equally anxious about what’s to come. None of this is playing out as expected. It’s unusual that we’re being herded into the courtyard instead of led straight into the servants’ quarters.
It’s also concerning because this increases the odds of some Blackcoat recognizing our faces. There’s a bounty on my head still. We’d done a lot to disguise ourselves, but it’s always possible, particularly since Gin has a history at House Eternal and these guards tend to move around from estate to estate as needed. Any one of them might know her. In fact, they may have seen her already, as we filed into the courtyard. She and I got separated in the rush, so I scan the crowd, searching for her face. She’ll stand out from the rest; her thick, glossy hair that falls in waves, the slight curve of her…
“Hey.” Gin sidles up to me from behind. She whispers in my ear, “This is weird, right?”
“Oh, hey, I was just about to go find you.”
She leans close. “What do you suppose is going on here?”
I shrug. “I wish I knew. Definitely not the usual protocol.”
The air is thick with tension. We’ve been standing around for a while now, and people are getting restless. Arms crossed, shifting on their feet. Someone says, “I thought we were here to work?” Typically, guards usher new servants directly to the back rooms, where they’re ordered to bathe before dressing in the palace uniforms, and prepped for the night’s work. But none of that seems to be happening. The guards aren’t following the normal procedures.
Instead, the new servants are being dressed in the courtyard. I spot a smaller group being led to the other side of the fountain. Once there, they’re given a simple uniform to change into, tunics and pants in a multicolored, woven pattern I’ve seen in the Lashing.
Something pokes me in the back. “Hey!”
I turn to see a guard, shoving me forward with the hilt of his sword. Another pushes Gin. “Watch it!” she shouts, scowl on her face. I glare at the guard who’s messing with her, even as I’m being jostled myself. A little voice in my head reminds me:Don’t draw attention.I fix my face to be more compliant, and nudge Gin. She looks up at me, momentarily annoyed, but quickly understands what I’m trying to tell her. She tries to wipe her angry expression, too, even as the guard continues to push her forward.
