“I have to find my brother.” I turn and fling open the doors.
The reception room is empty. Everyone must be inside the hall by now. I stride past the two soldiers standing sentry by the doorway, trying to keep my expression neutral so they can’t see I’m dying inside. I pick up the pace when I hear the footsteps behind me. I need to get as far away from Digory as possible. I need to find Cole. That’s the only thing that matters. Everything else is a distraction, and I deserve to feel gutted for giving in to weakness and allowing myself to dream my life could be any different than it has been until now.
It never will be.
The auditorium’s packed with enlisted personnel and officers. My trek to the first row, which has been cordoned off for the graduating Recruits, is a stinging, wet blur. I squeeze past Cypress, Ophelia, and Gideon. Fortunately, when Digory arrives, he’s forced to sit in the only remaining seat at the opposite end.
Standing off to the side of the stage, flanked by a squad of Imps, are the Incentives-Gideon’s parents, Ophelia’s mother and sister, Cypress’s twins, and a handsome, carmel-skinned guy about Digory’s age. That must be him. But where’s his second Incentive?
I scan the crowd, looking for my own Incentives, blinking the moisture away.
My heart sags. I don’t see them anywhere.
There’s a buzz of static on the intercom system that settles into a flatline hum, mimicking the feel of my heart. The lights dim, along with my remaining hope, as Trumpets blare and Sergeant Slade takes the stage.
“Welcome,” she announces, as soon as the fanfare has died out. “On this occasion we gather to honor five exemplary cadets. They have proven they possess the necessary attributes to partake in the Trials, for the opportunity to enter the ranks of our military’s elite.”
The applause echoes through the amphitheater like rumbling thunder.
When it fades, Slade rambles on about the Establishment’s principles and values, but her words barely register as I obsess about the only thing that matters.
Where is my family?
There’s more applause, and then Cypress has to nudge me as, one by one, we’re called to the stage to receive our graduation pin and shake hands with Slade.
“Congratulations, Spark.” Slade forces the words through clenched teeth. She jams the badge against the left breast pocket of my uniform, almost piercing my skin.
Then I’m moving in a daze to the end of the stage away from the Incentives and taking a seat, where I’m soon joined by the others.
Slade fades into the background as the beam of a spotlight appears center stage, illuminating a familiar silhouette that seeps deep into my eyes like a terminal sickness.
Cassius.
He’s blinding, in a coat as stark white as a violent blizzard. His reddish-brown hair is slicked back, reminding me of the color of dead leaves covered in sleet.
When he raises his hands, every sound in the ballroom dies. “Distinguished members of our armed forces and Trials Committee, I’m honored to be a part of this Recruitment Graduation.”
More applause.
Cassius folds his arms behind his back. “I stand before you as the Parish’s most recently appointed Prefect, a fellow patriot, not only to join in honoring these five courageous military volunteers, but to apprise you of an unprecedented development in the history of the Trials.”
A murmur zips through the crowd like an electrical current, sizzling and popping along the way. My chest tightens. Unprecedented development? In my gut I know it’s tied to Cole and Mrs. Bledsoe. I grip the sides of my chair with sweaty palms.
“Most of the Recruits are gathered here with two of their Incentives, representing those they care most about and who will aid in motivating them through this arduous but necessary duty to our beloved government.” He sweeps a hand in the direction of the Incentives. One by one, Cypress’s, Gideon’s, Ophelia’s, and Digory’s family members are illuminated in the beams of spotlights.
Cassius points to them. “As you can see, two of our Recruits have not been joined by both of their Incentives. The first is Digory Tycho … ” He gestures and a split-screen image appears behind him: Digory’s stoic face on one side, his husband’s anxious one on the other. The camera pans to the empty space on the stage where his missing Incentive should be and freeze-frames.
“The other Recruit who is not yet joined by his Incentives,” Cassius continues, “is Lucian Spark.” The screen divides again, this time with a shot of the empty space on the stage where Cole and Mrs. Bledsoe should be standing.
A blinding spotlight blasts my eyes. I shield my face with an arm as my image fills the screen behind Cassius.
“Where are they?” My question, amplified by the directional mics, echoes through the hall.
Cassius stares at me, his murky green eyes like tufts of moss overgrowing the stone of his face, etched with lines of contempt and something else.
Hurt?
How dare he feel anything but shame and guilt after all that he’s done to me and my family? My blood steams in my veins. I want to lunge at him, wrap my hands around his throat-
He clicks his tongue several times. “Unfortunately, Recruit Spark, the Trials are all about exploring the strengths and resourcefulness of our prospects from the moment of inception. Everything that has transpired since Recruitment Day has been a part of this process, and all of your performances have been evaluated and scored accordingly.”
My vision is a dark tunnel with only Cassius visible on the other end. “Scored ? I don’t care how many points we got for barely escaping with our lives from those things-those Fleshers-that killed your scouts and have you all in a tizzy. All I care about is my family. Why aren’t they here?”
Slade marches toward me with Styles and Renquist in tow, but Cassius waves them off.
He sighs. “All the tests you have endured since you began your training at Infiernos were designed to assess your skills and weed out the weak amongst you. Surprisingly, you all passed. But unfortunately, one of you just barely made it through, and, as with every part of the Trials, consequences must be addressed.”
My mouth goes dry. It feels as if my heart’s trying to punch through my rib cage. “Where are they …?”
“According to the code,” Cassius continues, “the penalty for being the lowest-scoring Recruit to complete Basic Pre-Trial Prep is the forfeiture of Incentive visitation privileges. And you, Recruit Spark, regrettably graduated in last place.”
At first, it’s like he’s speaking some other language, gibberish … then the weight of his words settles in, crashing through like an anchor into the depths of my brain. The prospect of seeing Cole and Mrs. Bledsoe is the glue that’s held me together. Without that …
I spring to my feet. “You can’t do that. Please, Cassius. I’ll do anything you ask … anything.” I stagger from my seat and drop to my knees at his feet. “Just let me see them … Cole … even if it’s only for a few minutes … I–I beg you … ”
He shakes his head. “No need to supplicate, Lucian. The Establishment isn’t totally heartless. We do realize that from time to time, small exceptions can be made.” His voice is so convincing. I can almost believe him. Almost. He extends a hand and pulls me to my feet.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
The leaves of his eyes glisten with dew. He gestures to someone offstage. “I’m afraid you can only see one of them.”
His words are a punch to the gut. “Don’t make me choose. Not now … not yet … ”
He purses his lips. “You won’t have to.”
Styles and Renquist march onto the dais. Renquist is holding a shiny black vase. They flank Cassius and click their boots against the hard marble in attention. Renquist holds the vase out to me.