The Season Trials

C h a p t e r t w e n t y - o n e

C h a p t e r   T w e n t y – o n e

The fact that there's a celebration is unmissable. Even from a distance, I can see the vehicles lining the street, hundreds streaming across the roads—all headed in the same direction. The music, too, is unmissable—blaring so loud it's rattling.

The fact that everyone seems to scream wealth doesn't go amiss.

I fear we'll be spotted—even at the distance we're at now. Looking over at Kyell, though, I can see he doesn't seem fazed by it. "We can't... how..."

No pinch of the brow. No frown. Nothing but contempt written on his expression—like he's aware of something I'm not. "Look at all them. Look at the gowns; the jewels."

I follow his line of sight and see just that.

"Who do you think has the need for a Gift?" he asks.

It falls into place—though I fail to see how it benefits our situation in the slightest. "That doesn't change—"

"You think they remember the last person they purchased; you think they care?" My silence is answer enough. "All we have to do is walk to the door. No one will even notice us. Squalor matters little to them—as long as we appear to be willing to serve their every whim, we have a purpose. They could care less who we are."

He seems so sure of the plan, but despite his obvious confidence I can't feel the same sense of arrogance. On the one hand, he's right. We'll simply be seen as the help. On the other hand, though, I can't shake the feeling I'll be recognised. After all, I wasn't just anyone's Gift—but the General's Gift.

"It's too risky," I tell him. "You're crazy if you think it will happen that easily."

"Okay." Abruptly, the corner of his mouth tilts up. "That was plan B. Plan A, I can assure you, is better."

I don't find the humour in the situation, so I just stare back at him. I can only imagine the expression on my face—the furthest from his. "Kyell, this isn't a game. This is life or death—we're gambling without our lives." The fact that he fails to see the gravity of the situation is frustrating beyond reason. "While we sit here, we're asking to be found. We have to go. Now."

I don't even realise I've gripped a knife in my palm, until a feel a slight sting.

"Calm down, Kaylin." He rests his hand on my knee. "I was joking, okay—trying to make an awful situation somewhat better. It was mistimed."

Claustrophobia has begun to threaten to drown me—and the walls around me aren't helping the fact. Now that we're here, with no plan, I'm finally realising I want to run. Going through with it seems a million miles from reality.

It's not worth it for one ring. There's doubt I can even find it anymore.

"We need to go," I whisper. "This won't work."

"My brother is more than likely in there." His voice is like granite. "I'm going in, whether you wish to or not." He winces, then. "That came out wrong."

It did, but I don't call him out on it. He's more high-strung than me, since there's the potential Max is somewhere in the party.

"I can't say I can keep you safe," Kyell says. "But I can promise you I can try. Now here, if you're going to come—" He hands me a bunch of material and it falls into my lap, "—you'll need to put those on."