*
I DON’T SLEEP. I pace until my heels ache and my skull can’t hold any more bad thoughts.
Finally, there’s a click in the door. The handle jiggles a little, and then the door opens and Amir is standing in the space, holding his nasty little metal shocker in one hand.
“Did you think about what you did?” he asks me.
I nod.
“Good,” he says.
When I move towards him I see the house Pip standing in the hall. He’s holding a silver tray and in the center, on a white lacy mat, are two meal pills.
“Put it on the ground,” Amir tells him.
When he does, Amir points at it.
“Eat.”
“I’m not a dog,” I say. My throat is parched. It has been too long since I’ve had water. When he pours some in a little cup beside the pills, my tongue seems to grow thicker in my mouth.
“No talking,” he says. “Bad girl!”
He jams the silver box into my belly and presses the button. It sends a bolt of lightning straight through my insides. My face screws up in pain. For moments after, I’m still twitching.
I want to take that box and smash it to pieces. Or maybe shock him with it, give him a little of what he’s doling out, see how he likes it.
But I don’t.
Memories of the Garden are pouring back over me. All I did was try to get out. I never played along and this is where I ended up. But all the girls who did—who followed the rules and did what the Governess said—they all got what they wanted. They got chosen.
I kneel. Something inside of me breaks, but I do it anyway. I bend over, grab the cup with my teeth and swing it back. Water streams from the corners of my mouth as I gulp it down greedily. I shove the meal pills in my mouth too. My stomach is gurgling now, and I can already feel the pills start to expand.
I don’t know the person who is doing this. She is weak. Desperate.
“Good girl,” he says, clapping his hands together. “Let’s play a hiding game.”
He makes it sound like it’s his idea.
“You hide first. If I catch you, you’re getting marked!” With that he runs away into the room next to mine and slams the door. The Pip remains in the hallway, a pointed stare on me.
I rise to my feet and step by him.
I walk slowly down the hall to the stairs, feeling the sensors in the ceiling above me adjust as I walk by. The Pip stays where I left him, still with that snooty look on his face.
Slowly, I descend the steps. One floor, then two, and another window appears on the stone wall. Trying to keep a cool head, I make my way towards it, careful not to touch the glass.
I’m still several floors up, but through the green-tinted glass I see a courtyard. A fountain sits in the middle of a garden, shooting streams of water into the air. Surrounding it all is a high stone fence.
Horses, led by men in day suits, move from a silver-roofed barn towards a sloped, twisty iron gate that opens as they approach. Drivers move amongst them—hunched, carrying the weight of this low, coal sky on their shoulders. They tend to their stock and hold them still while the Magnates climb up into their fancy saddles.
My heart races. Frantically I search for Kiran, straining my eyes, but none of them look familiar. The mayor probably has his own Driver staff. Why wouldn’t he? He has everything else.
Despite this, the open gate renews the urgency within me, and before I can stop myself I’m padding down the stairs. I descend two levels, and then a third. Finally I reach a wide, open room, fancier than any I’ve ever been in, with green-glass walls. There are five Pips cleaning these, and two more dusting the cozy chairs scattered around the room. They all look up as I step into the room.
Somewhere above me, in the distance, I hear Amir’s demanding yell: “Where are you?” It’s like someone’s pulling the tiny hairs on the back of my neck.
I’m on the ground level. Out the two sliding doors, directly across from the stairwell, are the horses, and the gates are already beginning to close behind them.
I spot Mr. Greer in the shadow of the barn, talking to the mayor, who is wearing a long gray suit jacket for the occasion. Something’s not right between them; the mayor’s posture is stiff and his arms are crossed over his chest. He throws his hands up and walks away, and after a moment of staring at his back, Greer turns away as well. He nearly runs into a Driver attempting to load a carriage with supplies, then stalks around the side of the house, his maroon scarf waving in the breeze until he is out of view.
My gaze returns to the carriage. From where I’m standing, it’s hard to see what was in the box the Driver loaded in the back compartment, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s preparing to leave. He’s made his way to the front and has begun adjusting the straps that attach the contraption to his horse.
Maybe he’s following the hunters into the mountains with extra supplies. Maybe he’s just going back to the city. I don’t care. All I know is that there is room in that back compartment for me to hide and if I get there quick enough, I’m going with him.
I move for the door, but stop short as a few men in lavish embroidered coats enter the room through the sliding doors from outside. Magnates, like the hunter who captured me in the wild.
A Pip rushes to their assistance.
“Come with me,” says one of the cleaners, grabbing my elbow. “You aren’t supposed to be down here.” His little mouth is drawn in a tight frown.
I am dragged from the entryway, away from the carriage, into a shiny silver kitchen manned by Pips who prepare food—real food. Savory-smelling meats and soups that make my stomach grumble. Distracted by their tasks, they barely glance up at me, much like the serving Pips from the preparation room upstairs. I feel panic swelling in my chest. I hadn’t counted on this moment to escape, but now that it’s passing, I can’t help feeling as though I’ve let something crucial slip away.
The cleaning Pip backs me into a corner and tells me to stay out of the way. When he leaves, he shuts the door behind him. I want to scream. I tell myself to focus—Amir is still looking for me. I need to think, plan my next move.
On the far side of the kitchen is a sliver of gray light, and my panic turns to steel. There’s a slider door on the other side of this room. It must open to the outside, behind the house.
All that stands between me and the outside are the Pips, who chop strange-looking vegetables and arrange decorative morsels on serving trays. There are at least ten weapons nearby. Knives. Forks. Even that steaming basin on the stove can be used to my advantage. If I can get my hands on something, I might be able to force my way through, but too much of a stir will surely bring more Pips, and maybe even one of those Watchers guarding the gate.
I step forward and my ears register a buzzing from above as the scanner eye on the ceiling shifts positions.
The Pips are still focused on their duties.
One deep breath in, and I start to walk. I keep my head down, but my eyes moving and my hands ready. I make it past the first Pip, who hardly gives me a sideways glance. Another two give me dirty looks, but don’t stop what they’re doing. Maybe they think I’m too stupid to try to escape. Another scanner buzzes as it points my direction. My heartbeat is thumping in my ears.
I tell myself to slow down, but I can’t. I walk faster, and when a Pip makes a sudden turn away from his station, we collide. Small yellow pastries fly off of his tray across the floor, and in his anger, he throws the metal sheet at me.
I block my face, but before I can lower my arms, he’s got me by the wrist and is dragging me outside.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he says, following up with the longest stream of pips I’ve ever heard. I trip over the threshold of the door, but catch myself before I fall. When I look up, I see gray sky and wish I’d decided to grab a weapon.
I don’t need it. I can take one single Pip on my own. I have to.
He winds back to hit me in the face, but stops short. He’s looking at something over my shoulder, and when I glance back I’m sure I’m going to see either the kid or a Watcher. But it’s neither. It’s a tall, thin man in a black velvet coat and a maroon scarf wrapped around his head.
He stops a little ways away and gives a curt nod to the Pip, who seems to take this as a dismissal and reenters the kitchen. There are no scanners back here, no eyes watching me. We are blocked from the front of the building, between the perimeter wall and a trash incinerator. Alone.