Ensnared (Enchained Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  “Our first president,” says Kaleb, somehow knowing that my eyes have been drawn there. “Our current ones are descended from him: pure-blooded Arelians, fit to rule—govern us. Come. Come.”

  I keep my eyes on the portrait as chills go up and down my spine, making me wary of what lies ahead, and of Tapiwa’s true intentions for summoning me here. Once through the archway, darkness overshadows us until we reach a burgundy door with a silver knocker with silver hinges, each with the Arelian insignia engraved on it, and the door handle shaped like a blazing fire that appears to burn as Kaleb opens the door, after giving a quick knock, and the light contained within the room spills out, enveloping me in its dissonance. I step through the doorway and into a room that seems to be from a different era, or place.

  The ticking of a grandfather clock fills my ears as my boots cease to clack on the marble floor and sink into a Persian rug that stretches across the room, almost filling it to capacity, held down by bergère chairs, whose scarlet texture accentuate the wine-colored rug as flecks of gold and emerald threads weave their way throughout the rug itself, adding a splash of color to the ivory ceiling above us. I brush the arm of one of the chairs, remarking at its silkiness, and wondering where they acquired such a thing, but I cannot deny the elegance it lends the suite’s outer room. As I observe every ounce of color, furniture, and the lighting, the one thing that strikes me as absent is President Tapiwa herself.

  Kaleb gives me an embarrassed smile and excuses himself before hurrying to a mahogany door on the far side of the room, giving it a quick knock, before opening it and slipping inside, but despite his efforts to close it, the latch slips and the door swings open just enough for me to peer inside. I know I shouldn’t, but curiosity gets the better of me, and I lean over just a little to sneak a peek. A scurry of movement and shadows hurry around the room as a figure crawls off the bed and to a chair where a lilac-colored robe, made from the thinnest of materials, hangs, while a naked Kumi remains where he is, chuckling at the commotion, giving credence to the rumors about the nature of their relationship. As Kaleb and Tapiwa approach the door, I straighten back up, doing my best to pretend that I have not been snooping and that I am not interested in what goes on here.

  “Noni,” Tapiwa says through a honeyed smile, exposing her stark white teeth and the pearls within them, “it is good of you to come.”

  I flash a quick grin as both she and I know that anyone who refuses a presidential summons suffers the consequences.

  “Thank you, Kaleb,” Tapiwa says, dismissing her Minister of Affairs and he bows, leaving without a sound.

  “You must be wondering why I asked you here,” she says as she strolls over to a desk that is built into the wall and presses a button, bringing up a monitor, her sheer robe leaving little to the imagination as to what lies underneath as it parts some, almost allowing one of her breasts to spill out, but I remain silent. She is the president and I am nothing more than an arbiter. Outside the presidential palace I have authority, but here, I am little more than a plebeian. “I must say that you are an enigma, Noni. Your exploits in the trial of fears was quite the show and proof of how well-trained our arbiters are, and that I made the right choice.”

  She watched that? I know Molers had, and that all recruits at the training facility will be forced to watch it, but what is her interest in it?

  “Your tenacity is what we need right now,” Tapiwa continues. “Tell me, what caused you to demand the challenge?”

  “The challenge was presented to me, and an arbiter never refuses a contest. To do so would be to admit failure.” And, as we are often reminded, failure is death.

  “Such bravery is what I need right now.”

  The monitor flashes to life and images appear. I study them, wondering where they are from and what this all means as the reports scroll across the screen, broken only by the intermittent flashes of people struggling to carry loads that weigh more than they do.

  “As you will recall, I had asked you to go to the mines some time ago, but your shoulder needed time to heal after your exemplary actions during the bombings.”

  For a moment, I stand dumbfounded, until I remember that she had told me about the mines, and I had accepted, but so much has happened since that I had forgotten all about it. “Yes, ma’am,” I reply when I realize that one is expected of me, while administering an internal reprimand to myself for having forgotten all of this, and how I was forced to sentence Chase to work in one of the agricultural sectors.

  “We’ve been having a problem at the mines,” continues Tapiwa. “Production is down, and it appears that Commandant Gant is having difficulty meeting quotas. Without the ore form the mines we cannot power our homes or our businesses. Arel depends upon the ore for survival and way of life. It is vital for our existence that production increase. This much you know. However, it appears that there has also been some unrest at the mines. According to some reports, it appears that the workers there have this idea that they can be contrary. Such obstinance cannot be allowed, or we will all suffer.”

  “Then, perhaps someone should be sent there to remind Commandant Gant what failure means,” I say, reiterating what I know she wants to hear, and what is expected of me.

  A grin snakes across Tapiwa’s face, making me feel as though I have just stepped into a trap, as an unnatural heat rises within me and settles around the base of my neck. “That is where you come in.”

  I bite my tongue to keep from voicing the words that enter my mind.

  “I want you to go to the mines. All I get from Commandant Gant are excuses, and what I want are results. I want you to observe the mines and do what is necessary to increase production.”

  “With all due respect,” I begin, choosing my words with care, “should not a more experienced arbiter be sent? I know very little about the mines.”

  “Your shoulder is healed, is it not?”

  “It is.”

  “Most arbiters do not display your sense of strong will. I need someone who does not flinch when faced with an impossible task and who will see things through. Your actions in the trial of fears proves that you are willing to do what is necessary to accomplish a goal. That is what I need right now. I would not have considered you otherwise.”

  Though her words make sense, there is still a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach that she is not telling the entire truth behind her reasons for sending me and an ever-increasing suspicion that Molers challenging me to the trial of fears was no accident.

  “Of course, you won’t be going alone. A more experienced arbiter will be sent with you, to ensure that Commandant Gant heeds your authority. I will expect constant reports.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I reply, knowing that I am committed to this venture, whether I want to be or not.

  “Are there any questions?”

  Plenty, but I know that I cannot voice them here, so, I settle on one. “When do I leave?”

  “Tomorrow.” Tapiwa presses another button on the desk and the door to the suite opens, allowing Kaleb inside.

  “Madam President,” he says with a bow.

  “Kaleb,” Tapiwa responds, “please see to it that our guest finds her way out.”

  Tomorrow? So soon? Questions burn within me, each wanting its own set of answers, but with the way Tapiwa turns her back on me and stares at the door leading to the bed chamber, I reconsider my initial desire to voice my mind and salute her before heading for the door, knowing that I have just been dismissed.

  “Good luck,” she says as I leave, confirming that there is more going on here than just the simple task of addressing the lack of production at the mines.

  Kaleb ushers me through the corridor, down the marble staircases and out the door in such a hurry, that I do not remember setting foot outside as the bronze gate closes behind me and the arbiter standing guard glares at me, warning me to move along instead of loitering. Deciding it best to make myself scarce, I hurry down to the nearest railcar platform and hop on a tra
in before the doors close, not paying much attention as we speed along, leaving the tall glass buildings with their pristine exteriors reflecting the backdrop of Arel for the more dilapidated, crumbling structures of the eastern sector. Just like everyone else, when the railcar stops, I get off, not caring that people give me a wide berth so as not to end up on the receiving end of an arbiter’s wrath. I cannot stop thinking about the task Tapiwa has charged me with. To not accept it will result in severe consequences, and not just for me; but I am not qualified, which makes me wonder what her true intentions are. Is she toying with me, or does she believe in my abilities? As my mind ponders over the morning’s events, my feet lead me back to the manor, back to the place I have called home for over a year, and the front door—it’s glass still green from mold growing in between the panes—slides open, allowing me to cross its threshold.

  Sheila busies herself with scrubbing the spokes of the railing for the staircase and glances in my direction, flashing me a quick grin, but making certain that no one else notices. I return the gesture, but before I have time to hurry up to my room, Commander Vye calls me from her office.

  “Noni, a word.”

  My heart skips a beat as I wonder what it is I must have done wrong to demand such a summons. I stalk over to her office, knowing that there is no getting out of whatever it is she wishes to speak with me about, and shut the door behind me as I step inside. She sits behind her desk, with all the items upon it either stacked or in neat little rows where nothing is out of place.

  “Have a seat.”

  I do a double take. I have been summoned to Commandeer Vye’s office before, but never asked to sit down. She keeps her eyes on me as she waits for me to take the only chair in the room, beside hers, so I sit down as ordered, still unsure of why I am here.

  “How was your meeting with President Tapiwa?”

  I do not bother asking how she knows about it. Of course, she knows about it. No one can receive a presidential summons and not have their commanding officer be aware of it as well.

  “It went well,” I say, being careful in my choice of words, unsure if this is a test or not.

  “You do not sound convinced.”

  I could scold myself. Commander Vye always sees through me, despite my beast attempts at hiding my true feelings about something.

  “I have been ordered to go to the mines to get them in order,” I say, still not believing it myself and grappling with the fact that such a task has been thrust upon me.

  Commander Vye glances around as though she is afraid of being overheard before she opens her mouth again. “Be wary of her.”

  “Ma’am?”

  Again, Commander Vye looks around as though she is afraid of being overheard. “The mines are dangerous, more so than the outposts. Few who go there, ever leave.”

  “How do you…”

  “Another of my arbiters was sent there once, two years back. He never survived his first night.”

  “What?’ I say without thinking, and the word is out of my mouth before I can stop it.

  Commander Vye leans over her desk and speaks in a low voice. “Tapiwa is more like a cat; she toys with people, sizing them up, before deciding what to do with them, and for some reason, she has taken a keen interest in you.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “You made quite the impression at the ceremony and another impression in the aftermath of the attack, and a third when you defeated the trial of fears.”

  “Why would she watch…”

  “All you need to concern yourself with is the fact that she did. Did she tell you anything else?”

  “I will be accompanied by a more senior arbiter.”

  Commander Vye leans back in her chair as a pleased expression crosses her face. “When do you leave?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Listen, and listen well, Noni: trust no one outside of these walls, except the senior arbiter that accompanies you. I mean it! Trust no one, but the arbiter that is with you.”

  “Commander,” I say, getting the feeling that there is much more at stake than me being sent away for a temporary assignment, “is something wrong?”

  “Much is happening that makes little sense. Keep your mind sharp. Keep your wits about you. And do not, under any circumstance, let your guard down. When you return, I will want to read the report you are to send to Tapiwa.”

  “Yes, commander.”

  “Dismissed.”

  Confused, I stand up, salute Commander Vye, and leave her office, wondering what just happened and why her words to me were so cryptic. What does she know, that I do not? I feel like a pawn in a grander scheme, and it angers me. As the door shuts behind me, I spot Gwen carrying a tray into the kitchen. She takes one look in my direction and hurries away, refusing to acknowledge me, not that I blame her, I am the reason that her brother is no longer here, and as the memory of that incident fills me, my heart aches. I hope Chase is well and is allowed to return soon. Gwen shouldn’t be alone.

  A door closes upstairs, jerking me from my moment of self-pity, and I wander over to the stairs and go up to my room to prepare for what tomorrow brings.

  Chapter 10

  The Farms

  My legs feel as though they have been bound in cement and scrunched up against my body to the point where their current position will now be permanent, as I try wiggling my toes inside my boots while the transport bounces up and down on the uneven dirt road. We have been on the road for a day, without stopping, except for the few instances where someone needed to relieve themselves. I try to look out the window, but there is little point in doing so as the blackness of night greets me, and with no moon, there is not even the tiniest of light to see anything. Pitch black That it is it. I glance at Renal as he sits straight backed in the front seat with his eyes straight ahead. One can only imagine me relief when I saw Renal waiting at the main entrance to the manor with a single bag, ready to depart upon my say so. Commander Vye had told me to only trust the senior arbiter that accompanies me; somehow, she must have known it would be Renal, or she called in a few favors to ensure it would be him. Either way, I am pleased that he is with me, even though he hasn’t said a single word.

  I shift a little, as best as I can, as a few pins and needles radiate through my legs from having been in the same position for hours, though my attempts at relieving the pressure on my knees proves to be futile as by back now hurts, which is soon mitigated the moment my head slams into the top of the vehicle as we roll over a deep pothole. Though my head now aches, I refrain from rubbing it as arbiters are supposed to be able to endure pain and discomfort. Be like Renal, I tell myself as I straighten up and do my best to remain still and alert, just like Commander Vye had warned me to. Another jolt knocks me around as we hit another hole in the road, making me wish that this road was paved.

  Before I have time to get back into my seat, a bright, white light shines into the dusty front window of the transport, illuminating every corner, every crevice, and showcasing just how grimy the seats are, making me wish that the darkness would come back just so I do not have to look at them. The brightness of the light forces me to shield my eyes as it blinds us all and the transport comes to a halt. I shift a little, trying to get a better look at where the light comes from.

  “Remain still,” Renal warns me as armed guards run up to the transport, pointing their weapons at us, and as they pass in front, blocking the spotlight for just a moment, I notices the heavy artillery on top of a giant wall that impedes our desire to go forward, all of them armed and ready to fire upon any threats that come their way. Following Renal’s advice, I sit up straight and clinch my muscles, ordering them to remain still, to not flinch, to not do anything that would give the guards cause to react with force.

  A gloved fist bangs on the drive’s window and the driver opens it. “State your business,” demands the guard the gloved fist belongs to.

  “Arbiter Geril, serial number G76329,” replies the driver, as his tattoo is scan
ned. “We are here at the behest of President Tapiwa.”

  A fist pounds on Renal’s window while another knocks on mine. Together, Renal and I give our name and serial number and both of our tattoos on the back of our necks are scanned, verifying our identities.

  “You may go inside,” says the guard to the driver, “and park where you are told. Do as you are told. Any deviance will be met with force.”

  The driver puts the transport into gear and eases it forward as the gate swings outward, opening just enough for us to go in, and as the spotlight leaves us, I take the chance to sneak a peek at the giant wall surrounding whatever lies hidden inside, reminding me of Arel’s wall that serves as a protective barrier from the outside wall as well as a set of concrete bars designed to keep the inhabitants inside at all times. No one leaves. No one enters. That is how it is, and the same must be true here. The sound of tires upon gravel fill my ears as the engine reverberates in the vehicle, causing everything within me to resonate as the driver eases us inside, pulling into the designated spot marked for us. More guards surround us, their black helmets reflecting the lights around us, allowing no one to see their face.