The Receiver

2 0 - R E B O R N

Zander and I stay just on the inside of the tree line, out of view of the Daughters.

Lady Death stands in the center of the training field behind the cathedral, hands on her hips, a mother hen watching over her flock.

Wanting a closer vantage point, we make a wide arc around the perimeter of the amoeba-shaped field to a spot that's nearer the platform. La Señora's guards crowd so close around her it's difficult to see much of her, but I know Zander is growing even more convinced. It's in his gut.

Something else I probably should've shared with him by now is that I feel some of the pleasant stuff he experiences too. Or maybe that's just what friends feel for each other.

When we're as close as we dare, still at least fifty feet away, I see what Zander sees: the woman from the video and the woman barking orders before us are the same and yet totally different. This woman has tattoos, a fondness for hard candy, and a horde of badass females, young and old, at her command, willing to die for her and the reputation that precedes her. She's bottomfeeder royalty. The queen cockroach. A world away from the woman he remembers as his mother.

"It's her," he says after a minute. "I don't know how I know, but—"

"You know," I nod. "Trust me. I can feel it too. There's something else," I realize, sensing his pang of uncertainty. "What is it?"

"I was a just a kid when she... went away. I wonder if she'll recognize me."

"Zander, you're her son. She'll know it's you."

But he doesn't seem convinced.

Keeping my eyes peeled for Iris I finally spot her among the milieu. She's already ditched her uppercruster clothes somehow. I wonder what story she told to be accepted back in or if La Señora believed me about our place being raided.

"C'mon," I say, lowering myself to the ground, my back against a tree. "Let's wait to see if we can get them alone."

Zander and I sit next to each other on the ground for forty-five minutes, watching the swordplay. An hour into practice, a group of four Daughters carry a small pedestal out onto the grass and La Señora immediately takes her rightful place atop it.

Daughters fall into place around her, planets circling a sun. I slap the back of my hand against Zander's chest to pull his attention away from his cuff and climb to my feet.

"Are we really ready for something like this?" a girl in the crowd asks, just loud enough to hear.

"We're always ready," La Señora answers. Dozens of eyes are on her. "Because we can't afford to take the pacifist's approach. If we don't fight, morimos." We die.

"The best way to meet force is with force," someone in the crowed echoes.

Someone else asks, "Anyone ever heard 'the pen is mightier than the sword'?"

Lady Death's dark eyebrows knit together. "Is this pen equipped with a hidden blade or something?"

I see Iris stifle a grin.

"Well, whatever we're doing," a voice says, "we need to do it soon. The longer we wait, the more prepared they'll be."

"And so will we," Iris assures her. "Once we know we have a plan that can stand up to theirs."

"What sort of plan do you have in mind, niña?" Lady Death challenges.

A bubble of silence spreads across the assembled crowd, then finally bursts.