15
In the fraction of a second it takes me to turn, the faces of the Minister Prime, Ignacia, a Kingsman and even the King himself flash before my eyes. I wonder what my punishment will be; will it happen in front of everyone and will it affect Colt and my mother? Instead it is a face that in many ways is even more shocking: the Elite from the West who spent the evening staring at me across the banquet table.
‘Shh,’ he whispers before telling me his name is Imrin.
I am unsure how to respond but he seems as surprised as I feel. ‘Is there a passage out of your room too?’ he asks.
I feel a slight panic, remembering the Minister Prime’s order that we should report anything suspicious. It seems too obvious that Imrin is here at the same time as me. Has he been following me somehow? Or was it a trap all along?
The moonlight is reflecting from Imrin’s smooth dark skin and when it becomes clear I’m not going to answer, he tries again. ‘I’m sorry for scaring you. I was just … excited. I sleep in the corner of the boy’s dorm and I found this by accident a few days ago. I followed it and it brought me out by this window. I’ve been coming back each night just to stare at the outside world. You’re the first person I’ve seen here.’
I think over his words as his black eyes stare at me. If it wasn’t for what Hart had told me, and the Minister Prime’s order, I would believe him.
‘Show me,’ I say.
He takes my hand and I feel an instant spark of exhilaration. It’s hard to describe but it is like the feeling I have when I am with Opie, a sense of excitement. I let him lead me towards the wall directly opposite where I had emerged. His skin is warm and somehow reassuring. He lets my hand go and presses a spot on the wood until the panel clicks inwards, exactly as mine did.
‘Our dorm is through there,’ he whispers, taking a step inside. He motions for me to follow but I shake my head and he re-emerges. ‘Did you find something similar?’ It is clear he already knows the answer but if he is some sort of spy, then I suppose I’m in trouble anyway.
‘Ours is here,’ I say, showing him the latch on our door, directly opposite his.
If he already knew the location of ours, then he hides the fact very well, his face a picture of intrigue. I return to the window and feel Imrin’s presence behind me.
‘What’s it like in the girl’s dorm?’ he asks.
I am trying to be suspicious but there is something so likeable about him that it is hard not to feel engaged. He has an intensity to his eyes that makes it seem like there is no one else in the world but you. ‘What’s it like in yours?’ I counter, turning to face him.
‘Everyone’s terrified after what happened to that Wray kid on the first night. One of the others didn’t come back from his job either, so we’re two down already. Everybody thinks they’re going to be next.’
He doesn’t sound scared but that could be his way; Opie is the same. ‘Ours is just quiet,’ I say. ‘Hardly anyone speaks to each other, especially after tonight with the Minister Prime’s speech.’
‘Ours is like that too. I was worried about coming out tonight …’
‘Why did you, then?’
Imrin’s brow ripples in what I first think is displeasure but then I realise that he doesn’t know. His shrug confirms his silent answer and I understand he could ask me the same thing.
‘Where do you work?’ he asks instead.
‘In the tech department – there are only a few of us.’
‘I work in the kitchens.’
He is only telling me what I already know because I saw him being dropped off but it is nice to have someone to talk to.
‘I guess it’s less fun at the feast each week when you have to help put it together?’
He returns my thin smile. ‘We have to put together something like that every day of the week. Just because we are not feasting, it doesn’t mean the King isn’t.’
‘Do the older Offerings talk to you?’
‘Not really. There aren’t many of them …’
Hearing it from someone else somehow makes it more real and I find myself trusting Imrin all too easily.
‘What’s at the other end of the corridor?’ I ask, nodding towards the fork in the opposite direction from the window.
‘I don’t really know. I poked my head around a few days ago and it is another corridor – but I saw a camera around that corner. It was facing the other way and I haven’t tried again since.’
I’m not surprised as there are cameras everywhere but it still feels nice to have this window area as my own – our own – to get away from everyone else. I figure the next time I am in the security camera system without Porter, Lumin or anyone else watching me too closely, I will try to figure out where we are. Imrin and I talk about the positions of our dorms in relation to the hall and where we work, which gives me something of a start.
Goosebumps rise on my arm and my back arches backwards as a gentle breeze ripples through the air – from where I do not know. Imrin reaches out, perhaps instinctively, to touch my hand and ask if I’m okay and I don’t shy away; instead I pull him towards me and let him put his arms around me. Somehow, despite the temperature, his body is wonderfully comforting.
I guide him back to the passage that leads to my dorm and open the door, then we sit inside the tunnel, him still resting a hand around my shoulder while the other one rubs my skin to warm me up. It is nice to feel actual contact with somebody after over a week of isolating myself. I have been so used to playing around with Opie, Imp and Colt that it is only now that I realise how much I have missed the touch of another person. Something about Imrin feels natural, as if I don’t have to try to be someone else in his presence. I find him fascinating.
‘What do you think these tunnels are?’ he asks.
Between us, we cannot come up with a better answer other than that the castle has been here for a long time and that it may hold many other secrets. Whether anyone else knows about them is something we can’t know. I would guess they would probably have been blocked if they were widely known about.
Imrin tells me his family came to the country four generations ago from India and that he has three older sisters and three younger sisters. He is the only son and his mother has spent years doting on him, while his father has an injury from the war that hasn’t healed. They have been supported by his older sisters for as long as he can remember. I try to stop myself revealing too much but he is witty and seems so honest – plus he has a quality about him that is hard to describe. It might be the way he speaks, purring the words in a way that makes you want to get comfortable and listen.
In truth, I probably see a lot of me in him. He has rebelled in the same small way that I have, which is why we are here. There is also an obvious parallel in the way he is surrounded by girls compared to the way I have so many boys in my life. I tell him about Colt but not Opie or his family as we start talking about where we come from.
At first he tells me how he has distant family members who live in India but, because of the way things are, it is impossible for them to have any contact. Where we are now feels completely foreign to me, so to hear about other countries is incredibly strange. I recognise the names but little else. The last his family knew was that India was in the middle of a war that had been going on for the whole of his lifetime. We have always been told that all of the other countries are dangerous but I have been doubting everything since my arrival.
‘Are you an Elite?’ he asks and I realise we have been talking for all this time without either of us asking the most obvious question, or checking each other’s wrists. For most people, it would come up first.
‘I’m a Member. You?’
‘Elite,’ he says, although he’s not showing off. He almost sounds embarrassed admitting it. ‘The first in my family. My sisters are Members or Inters.’
‘What do they do?’
‘We run a farm and all work together. When my result came out, everyone thought I would be sent somewhere else.’
‘Not here though?’
Imrin laughs gently. ‘No, I guess not.’
As he tells me about his sisters, who are, apparently, all bigger and stronger than him, I almost forget where I am. Suddenly I am transported back to Martindale, sitting around a fire in the woods with Opie laughing about the trouble his brothers have got themselves into.
I tell him a little about my village and a few of the people there, although I’m not ready to open up completely yet.
The fact we know so little about each other’s areas only reinforces Hart’s point that we are completely divided. He was talking about being here as Offerings but it is true of the outside too. The results of the Reckoning each year decide which Realms get the most provisions. It is supposed to be an aspiration to be an Elite, not just to give yourself a better life but to help everyone you live with too. None of us wants to be part of a Reckoning where the North finishes fourth, giving us less than the previous year. Despite that, we barely know anything about those we are trying to beat.
As I begin to say we should be going back to bed, Imrin asks about the girl sitting next to the King and I tell him of how Jela was taken from the dorm and that the only time we have seen her since is beside the King at the last feast.
I stand, hunched under the low ceiling and ready to return to bed, when I think of one final thing. ‘Why were you staring at me over dinner?’
Even in the swirling darkness, I can tell he is embarrassed. ‘I just thought you had nice eyes,’ he says.
It’s not what I expected, or wanted, and I don’t know how to reply, other than a limp-sounding ‘thanks’.
‘Are you going to come back tomorrow?’ he asks, one hand on the hidden door to return to the corridor.
‘Maybe, if everyone is asleep and I can stay awake.’
‘Me too.’
I already know I will be sneaking out every night if I think I can get away with it but I tell myself I should keep my intentions private.
‘We need to be careful,’ I say. ‘If we’re going to do this … do anything … we can’t be friends anywhere other than here. We can’t talk to each other or be seen together. We have to be complete strangers.’
I’m not sure he understands quite what I mean but he says ‘okay’ and then he is gone with a gentle click of the wooden panel.
As I make my way back to the bedroom, I have to remind myself that little has changed; we are still prisoners. Perhaps it is just because I now have someone to talk to, but something feels different – as if I now have a compulsion to believe that everything will be all right in the end.
Before I re-enter the bedroom, I press my ear against the panel and listen until I am sure everything inside is silent. I gently pull the door open and creep back into the room, each of my footsteps punctuated by a small intake of breath until I feel the scrambled bed sheets around me once more. I can hear the faint rattle of the windows as the breeze hums its chorus outside and, as someone at the other end of the room turns over noisily, I slide down to the bottom of the bed and close my eyes, dreaming of Martindale.
Although I have become used to sleeping while the elements scratch at the outside of our house in Martindale, I have never been a deep sleeper. Sometimes the howl of the wind or the tip-tapping of rain invades my dreams and I lie half-awake, half-asleep, knowing exactly where I am but still being able to rest. I have even fallen asleep by the gully once or twice, huddled close to a fire built by either Opie or myself, or snuggled underneath one of the thick woollen blankets we sometimes take with us.
As I jolt awake at the sound of Ignacia’s voice, I am utterly confused. My eyelids are heavy and, as they open slightly, I see people already dressed, while somehow I have still continued sleeping. I hear the words ‘hurry’ and ‘now’ and realise she is talking to me. The accusing eyes of the other girls are watching as I stumble out of bed and grab my work clothes from the wardrobe. Everything seems to have a thin grey haze about it as I try to remember if last night was a dream. I recall the passage, the window and Imrin; but then I also remember the woods, a fire, and Opie. Or was it Imrin in the woods and Opie in the passage?
‘Come on, we have to go,’ a voice says, and I turn to see Faith standing in the doorway. Half of the girls have already left with Ignacia and I can hear their footsteps echoing.
‘I’m coming,’ I say, hopping towards the door, battling with a shoe.
Together, Faith and I catch up to the rest of the group. She tells me that Ignacia came to the room and told us we were all needed in the main hall, although she doesn’t know why.
‘You were talking in your sleep,’ she adds ominously.
‘What did I say?’
‘I don’t know, you were mumbling.’
For a moment, I was worried that I had given something away and, as last night’s memories swirl into something that seems vaguely coherent, I wonder if talking in my sleep is something I have always done.
The hall is not decked out in its usual regal way. The lights are off and there is no spread awaiting us at the banqueting table. Instead, the Minister Prime is standing with his hands behind his back, eyeing each of us as we are led across the floor until we are standing in a semi-circle around him. Ignacia goes to his side and then I hear a clunk as the doors are closed. As I turn to see Kingsmen standing rigidly in front of the exits, my heart sinks.
Nothing good is going to happen this morning.
The Minister Prime speaks sharply without moving. ‘Which one of you is Pietra?’
Everyone’s eyes shoot sideways at Pietra, who takes a nervous step forward. Her long brown hair is plaited behind her and she is trying to stand tall but doesn’t seem too confident. I remember her on the train, next to Rush, sneering and laughing, and I wonder what she has done wrong. Regardless of what I thought of her then, I’m not sure I want to see what could happen to her here.
‘Did I not tell you all yesterday that unpatriotic behaviour would result in harsh treatment?’ the Minister Prime demands.
For a moment, Pietra doesn’t reply. She rocks nervously from one foot to the other and is trembling as she replies.
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘And did I not inform everyone here that revealing untoward behaviour would be looked upon most favourably?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
The Minister Prime leans back gently onto his heels and looks along the line. ‘You should all know,’ he says, pausing for effect, ‘that Pietra here took my words as literally as I meant you all to and reported something very grave to us this morning.’
He pauses again, licking his lips as his piercing holes of eyes flicker across each of us. ‘Now, who would like to step forward and confess?’