I froze, the breath rushing out of my chest in a groan.
Shit.
Shit!
I didn’t think they would use those records to decide on who to send to Blesswood.
“Willa?” Emmy muttered from behind me, her voice a squeak. “You altered my forms too?”
“Just your last name.” I was on autopilot, my mind spinning too fast for logical thought. “You’re my sister. You needed my last name.”
“Oh, Willa … what have you done?”
I didn’t get a chance to answer, because she was standing, grabbing my arm and pulling me up with her. I tried to crouch down again, but she wouldn’t let me and holy gods, she was strong. She dragged me all the way up to the stage and planted me directly beside Leader Graham, who shook my hand, and then her hand, before presenting us to the village people. They weren’t even clapping. They were sitting there, mouths hanging open, while metaphorical crickets chirped in the background.
Leader Graham frowned, having no idea what was going on, because he really didn’t get involved with the people he was supposed to be leading, unless it was to force us to do something he wanted. Or on the rare occasion that the Minateurs—the governing body of the sols—inspected our village.
He grabbed my shoulders and forced me forward a step. “Would you like to say something?” he asked me, in a way that didn’t really make it a question. “Thank your teachers, maybe?”
“Thanks, er, teachers,” I managed, my voice strangled.
His frown deepened, and he turned to Emmy, who stepped up beside me, clearing her throat confidently.
“We will not let this village down,” she promised, her strong voice carrying over everyone’s shock, and stirring them back into motion. “We will work harder than any other chosen dwellers, and we will return to this village with the blessings of the gods. That is a promise.”
It was such a short speech, but Emmy had been the one to deliver it, so it was enough to force a few cheers from the people. The rest were all still staring at me. Leader Graham seemed to give up on us, pointing to the side of the stage to dismiss us while he rambled on for a little bit longer about a few of the most legendary sols to ever ascend to Topia.
Emmy was laughing by the time the people cleared out. I mean really laughing. She was sitting on the stage, her knees brought up to cradle her face as she hung her head and veritably lost it. When she looked up, there were tears streaming down her face.
“I can’t believe our luck,” she told me. “I just can’t believe it. This was something I didn’t even dare to dream about. We’re going to Blesswood, Willa. Both of us. Together!” She started laughing again, and I started worrying about her sanity.
“Are you okay?” I asked, kneeling beside her, my hand on her back.
Immediately, she started sobbing. What the hell?
“I’ve been losing it inside my head,” she admitted between hiccupping sobs. “Ever since you got kicked out of school. You were so smart, you could have made it, but then … then it all came crashing down. I thought … I thought I’d have to say no, if I got chosen.”
I felt my own tears welling, then. I had to bite them back as I cuddled her into my arms. I stroked her silvery hair, muttering things that weren’t really things, like you’re fine, we’re fine, it’ll be fine. What I really wanted to say was that I was probably going to die. Literally. I was the least appropriate person to throw into a school of elite sols. If I pissed one of them off enough, they would send me to one of the temples to be sacrificed to the gods. No joke. I was probably going to die.
“We’re fine,” I repeated. “This is going to be amazing. A whole new life. Just you wait, Emmy.”
Within one sun-cycle, Emmy and I were standing on the edge of our village, single bag in hand, preparing for our big moment. Preparing to walk from the only home we’d ever known. I was leaving behind a mother who probably wasn’t even aware that I’d been chosen; she’d barely been present or conscious since our selection. I wasn’t sure she understood what had happened. Maybe she didn’t even know that Emmy and I were leaving. That we would never return. Blesswood dwellers didn’t come back to the outlying villages, despite what Emmy had promised—nope, they were destined for bigger and better things. Like being hogtied and sacrificed to the Gods for accidently tripping and punching the sacred balls of one of the sacred sols. Don’t think it couldn’t happen, because I was up to five cases this life-cycle alone. Torture. That was what my future had in store for me. I was going to be tortured.