“Eyes forward,” Mother Shade said.
I heard the rasp of leather, and then a whistle of air, and a streak of fire burned across my back.
My eyes watered. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out.
The whip landed again, and another blinding stripe of pain shot across my lower back. Blood flooded my mouth as I bit down harder on my cheek. I braced myself for a third lash, but then, the guards released me.
I turned to face her, my legs shaking. Mother Shade was looping the whip around her waist again.
“And my question?” I said again.
Mother Shade moved quickly. She strode forward and grabbed my chin again, pushing me against the wall. Pain erupted along my stinging back.
“How dare you continue to ask?” she hissed.
“Since I’ve just paid dearly for that question,” I said. “I’d like it answered. Please.”
Mother Shade exhaled as if almost amused.
“If a female mate-potential were to defeat a male mate-potential in the ceremonial duel,” she said, “she would be free to refuse him as a mate, and then, in time, choose her own.” She lifted her voice to address the entire room. “But that would never happen to one of you, girls. A Sworn female, perhaps. But not a human. Don’t allow arrogance to pollute your minds.”
She dropped my chin after another second and moved on, leaving me shaking as the other girls stole furtive glances at me.
“Line up, girls,” our instructor ordered. “We will begin with calisthenics.”
I was not excused even though my back burned from the lash. I took my place with the others, keeping my head high and my expression steady. I didn’t want to show any pain.
The instructor led us through the exercises and then demonstrated a few rudimentary fighting moves for us to imitate. We were placed in pairs.
My mind flashed back to another lesson in fighting, one held while rain drummed overhead and firelight flashed over limbs and faces. I remembered his eyes, his mouth. How he’d held my eyes with his, and how it seemed as if the whole world turned on that gaze and my answer to it.
I wrenched my thoughts away from him.
He was gone, and I was here, and I needed to make the best of things.
Tears gathered in my eyes. I blinked them away.
I focused on the lesson, and the pain in my back, and I did my best to push all thoughts of Kassian—no, Vixor—out of my head.
My traitorous mind didn’t want to listen. Again, I remembered the glint of humor in his eyes as he’d teased me. The pain that rasped his voice as he confessed secrets.
Could he have faked all of that? And to what end?
Anger surged through me. I was here, a prisoner in body to Mother Shade, and a prisoner in mind to thoughts of him. Where was he?
He wasn’t here. He clearly didn’t give a damn about me after all.
I had to forget about him.
CHAPTER FIVE
AT THE END of the long day of lessons, before supper, we were dismissed for a few hours of free time. Some of the Chosen girls got their cloaks and masks and left in pairs from the tower. I stared after them, wondering where they were going. My heart beat fast.
I needed to be granted whatever privileges allowed a Chosen to leave. If I could do that, I could contact the Crimson operative that Baz had told me about, and I could be one step closer to finding my mother.
But that could come later.
Instead, for now, I went upstairs, following a few of the other Chosen girls who appeared to have no special privileges.
The girl called Number Twenty was still where we’d left her, weeping, her face puffy from tears as she resolutely swallowed pages and pages of her ruined book. But though she’d had all day, the book was only half gone, and both sides of the leather-bound cover were still there.
I wondered how long it would take her to finish it, and what eating an entire book like that might do to her body.
She looked up as the others passed, her expression one of desperation.
I stopped next to her and dropped to a crouch.
“I volunteered to bring you information about the lectures,” I said.
The girl nearly gagged on a page. “What?” she whispered. “But—”
“I didn’t know. Now we’re both going to be punished for it,” I said. “I’m sorry. Maybe this will make up for it.”
I tore off a page and stuffed it in my mouth.
The girl looked at me with shock.
“What are you doing?” she gasped, and then bent over gagging as a bit of wet paper stuck in her throat.
Someone stopped at my back. I turned and saw one of the other Chosen girls watching us. She tossed her long, glossy black hair away from her face and frowned.
“If you help her, you’ll be punished even more,” she warned.
In response, I put another piece of paper in my mouth.
“My name is Red,” I said to the girl. “What’s yours?”
“Number Tw—”
“No,” I said. “Your human name. Not the inhuman number they give you here so we feel even more like objects or possessions.”
The girl took another paper from the book and wadded it in her hands. “Selene,” she whispered, with the air of a confession. “My name is Selene.”
I swallowed another crumpled-up piece of paper. “How long have you been here, Selene?”
“A week, maybe,” Selene said. She swiped at her tears with one hand. “It’s hard to mark the days in here. They are so monotonous…” She closed her fist around another page of the book and formed the paper into a ball. She brought it to her lips but hesitated. More tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I can’t,” she whispered hopelessly. “I can’t eat any more of this. My stomach already feels like a rock. My throat is as dry as dust—”
I put my hand on hers. “Let me get you some water.”
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Mother Shade said—”
“Mother Shade can strangle on her own whip,” I responded. “Give me the book, and let me get you some water.”
Selene hesitated, and then she nodded slowly. Her gaze jerked to the others in the room, who watched us carefully. Enna was among them. They were all high numbers—Twenty-eight and the like. The lower numbered Chosen girls were downstairs or outside, doing whatever their privileges allowed them to do.
No one moved.
I took the book and tore another page from it. I stuffed the paper in my mouth and chewed loudly.
“Can someone get us some water?” I said.
For a moment, the room was silent. The Chosen girls exchanged glances.
Then, Enna walked across the room and opened the door.
Several of the other Chosen girls gasped. One, a redhead, put her hand over her mouth as her eyes widened.
“What are you doing?” she cried out.
“Getting water,” Enna said. She disappeared into the hall and returned after a minute, carrying a dripping metal pitcher. She handed it to Selene, who gulped half of the contents down before she set the pitcher aside and wiped her lips with her wrist.
“My stomach feels heavy,” she whispered. She lifted her head, noticing the rest of the girls as if for the first time.
“They’re going to tell,” she said. “We’re going to be punished more than we already are.”