Ensnared (Enchained Trilogy Book 2) Page 3
He turns to the window and the wall that lies outside it, dwarfing us, reminding us of the forbidden world beyond. “I heard them talking, your commander and the commandant. We plebeians know what Arel does to those they believe are useless, and your injuries were severe. Though your commander believed in your abilities to survive, the commandant wasn’t so sure, so I lied. When they asked for my version of events, I told them that you saved us both and fought off an outsider, despite your physical weakness. I told them what they needed to hear so that you wouldn’t be sent to the crematorium.”
I stare at him, unable to process what he had told me.
“You should get going,” Chase says, approaching the door, “before they notice your absence.”
“Why?” I ask him again, my voice just above a murmur.
“You say that I am the reason that we are both alive today, but I never lied. You saved me.”
I say nothing.
“Promise me that you will do what you need to, to survive.” The door slides open and he disappears, allowing it to close with a soft thud, leaving me alone in my room, silhouetted by the faint light pouring through the window, broken only by the shadow of the wall.
Taking a deep breath to control the well of swirling emotions within me, I step to the door, forcing it to slide open and allow me passage, and stalk out of my room, stomping down the dim and empty corridor to the stairs to face what the day has asked of me. Commander Vye waits for me at the bottom step.
“I was about to send someone to get you,” she quips.
“Sorry, ma’am,” I say. “There is no excuse for my tardiness.”
“Grab something quick to eat,” says the commander “We are expected at the review board within the hour.”
Another review. I am not surprised. After the bombings, it makes sense that there would be a review of our actions, such is the norm in Arel; all arbiters must account for what they do to ensure that they serve Arel without hesitation or impunity.
I stroll into the dining room and bump into Anan. He glares at me—he never did like me, nor I him—and stalks away with a grunt, hurrying out the door and to his duties. Silence looms around me as arbiters finish their meals and hurry to report to their stations, while those who do not go on patrol until sundown either sit in the reading room to relax, go to the outdoor gymnasium for exercise, or sneak upstairs for some much-needed rest, all without speaking to one another. The bombings have frightened all of us. No one knows who was behind them, a mystery that engulfs us all, making each of us wonder if there is another target and who will be next.
I spot a bronze tray with egg fritters on it and snatch a couple, shoving them in my mouth and swallowing without bothering to chew them much. A glass appears by my hand. Looking down, I see Shelia holding it out to me with a frightened look on her face. “Thank you,” I say to her, taking the water and looking around to make certain no one watches us, but they are too preoccupied with their own affairs to notice us, much less care.
“Your shoulder…” she begins, and I pull her aside, away from everyone else.
“It’ll be fine,” I tell her.
“I saw the smoke and feared…”
“I’m fine,” I reassure her. “I have to go now. You take care of yourself.”
Shelia nods. Before I am able to take a step, she seizes my wrist and pulls me back, handing me a small bundle. “I saved this for you when you didn’t come down for breakfast.”
Puzzled, I take the bundle, unwrapping the faded blue cloth and revealing a blueberry muffin with a sugar crumble topping. “Where did you get this?” I ask, since such a treat is never served at the manor.
“Commander Vye sent me to the market to fetch a few provisions for the next few days. There is a baker there who sometimes gives me yesterday’s discards. I saved it for you.”
“You shouldn’t worry about me,” I tell her, handing her back the muffin, but she refuses to take it as her lips settle in a firm line, displaying her resolve. “How about we share?”
Shelia nods.
I break the muffin into three big pieces and hand two of them to Shelia. “One is for Gwen,” I tell her when she opens her mouth to protest, and she closes it, agreeing with my suggestion. The clatter of a plate hitting the table snatches my attention, and I must be going or suffer Commander Vye’s wrath. Eating the muffin piece in two bites, I wipe the sugar crystals from my mouth and hurry to the entrance where both Commander Vye and Renal wait for, much like they did the first time I was summoned to the Command Division for a review, except this time, something is different; this time, another arbiter waits with them. I study this arbiter and her regal stance as she stands with her feet shoulder-width apart and her hands by her sides, waiting for us to be ready to leave, her uniform pressed without a single wrinkle in it as though it has just been laundered.
Before I have a chance to ponder this new arbiter’s presence, or why she is here as I have not seen her at the manor before, Commander Vye ushers me out the door. I obey without delay, followed by her, Renal, and our mysterious escort. Our brisk strides down the driveway are in tune with one another as our boots stomp on the pavement while we make our way to the railcar platform. Just like before, people pause in their activities to watch us as we hurry down the street in procession, never allowing their eyes to linger too long, lest they be stopped and questioned for their overabundant curiosity. One studies me as I stroll past, but his eyes dart to the side the moment he notices me watching him, and he runs off, signaling to his plebeian to hurry up. The hunched shoulders, wary stares, and hushed whispers shower me in the fear that has gripped the city because of the bombings.
The whine of a railcar rushes by us and I know that we are close to the platform, and just like last time, a lone car waits for us. As we hike up to the platform, we stroll by a group of children dressed in red uniforms, the future engineers of Arel, listening to their teacher describe the mathematics behind constructing the raised railways and the cars that glide along them, carting people throughout the city. Two students pick the pocket of another, and I seize the shoulder of one, getting his attention. He looks at me with frightened eyes and his mouth hangs open as he wonders what I will do to him, but I point at the item in his hand, and he gives it back to his fellow student. As I let go of his shoulder, Commander Vye gives me an odd glance but says nothing as she steps into the empty railcar with Renal, while the arbiter escorting us turns toward me and I hurry into the shuttle before she says anything.
We each sit down with several seats between us, none of us bothering to talk as silence is preferable, and the arbiter with us keeps a close eye on each of us, encouraging us to keep our mouths shut. The shuttle moves away from the platform and toward the inner part of Arel, heading for the central station, and the force of its movement slings me to the side a little as I stare out the glass that encompasses us and the tiny rainbow it forms from the small ray of the sun that pokes through the clouds. Lifting my eyes, I look out at the city and the smoldering rubble left behind from the domestic attacks, wondering how many had been injured and how many survived. What happened to the children from the school?
The shuttle passes over the central part of the eastern sector, over the walkways and the people who hurry down them, desperate to get to their destination, and I spot the school. Blackened brick litter the area as a huge hole engulfs the roof and an entire side of the building. Leaning closer to the glass, I watch as plebeians clear away the rubble and rebuild the outer exterior, proof of Tapiwa keeping her promise to ensure that repairs to the eastern sector would be made. The shuttle veers upward and to the left, allowing me to steal a glance over the wall and at the grassland beyond, and the veil of trees that lie further away, and my mind dwells upon the outsider that had helped Chase and me while we struggled to survive beyond the wall.
Our escort clears her throat, and I turn away from the glass, staring straight ahead, taking note of her watchful gaze upon me, one that would even make Commander Vye sh
rink underneath it. No words are needed to voice her disappointment. Her hardened eyes drill into me, delving deep into the inner depths of my soul as though she desires to know my thoughts, or perhaps she already does. Once she turns away, I look up at the sky and the rail that passes over us, casting a long shadow upon us before disappearing in the distance. A slight shift jostles me as the railcar switches tracks, bypassing the central hub and heading straight for the heart of Arel where the Command Division is.
Towering buildings surround us, dwarfing us as they stand tall, showcasing their glass towers that reflect the scenery around them, mirroring everything, letting every citizen know that this is Arel, the center of civilization, or so we’re taught. A massive, square building looms ahead, hollowing out the pit that already fills my stomach, and just beyond it are trails of smoke: the crematorium. The sinking feeling in my stomach grows as sweat coats my palms and the nervousness that I have managed to hold back bursts through without mercy, refusing to release me or allow me any sort of comfort. Before we hit the building in front of us, the railcar dips, sinking below the skyline of the city and to the streets below where massive screens soar past us, pleading with us to buy the product advertised, while others portray the aftermath of the bombings, with Tapiwa’s and Kumi’s voices narrating over the images, speaking about our bravery and resolve, while vowing to bring the cowards responsible to justice. My body shifts as the shuttle slows to a stop, passing beneath copper archways that crisscross one another, until we reach the platform and the doors slide open with a baritone hiss. A few people try to board, thinking that it is a normal transport, but our escort shoos them away while the rest of us disembark, heading for the entrance.
I do not wait to be ushered to the glass elevator, having gone up it the last time I was here, and head straight for it with the others right behind me. Other arbiters hurry past us. A few of them glance in our direction, but turn away just as fast, resuming their duties and glad to not be in our position. As we glide upward to the topmost floor, I marvel at the luminescent streets below us that shine as though they have just been polished, allowing the diamonds embedded within them to cast tiny bursts of color in a ragged pattern that goes against the uniformity surrounding them, almost as though they are conducting their own form of rebellion against the conformity demanded of them. The elevator stops and we leave it, heading down a hallway with a glass wall on one side, allowing us to look out upon the city and its marvels: mirror-like glass building reflecting the colorful sky and the city, making it appear double its actual size while railcars soar above it, adding to its majestic presence. Our escort leads us to a set of double doors, made with reinforced steel, with two guards on either side and one in the center who stops us the moment we reach them.
“State your business,” he demands.
“Captain Ryals, serial number R21908, reporting with Commander Vye, Lieutenant Renal, and Arbiter Noni as requested,” replies our escort, speaking for the first time.
Renal steps forward next. “Lieutenant Renal. Serial number R26389.”
The guard’s eyes flick over to Commander Vye, who walks toward him, head held high, her mouth set in a rigid line, while her eyes pierce through his body armor, causing him to take one step back. “Commander Vye. Serial number V21923,” she says in a stern voice, daring him to challenge her.
The man checks her information on the tablet within his hands, and his gaze turns toward me. For a moment, I am thrust back to the time I was first summoned here, forced to relive my shame from my first visit to the wall since being assigned to the eastern sector, and the same anxiety that had seized my stomach then threatens to cripple me again. Swallowing a wad of spit to force the lump forming in my throat away, I square my shoulders, straightening my posture, doing my best to give the guard my own piercing stare. “Arbiter Noni,” I say, keeping my voice firm, not allowing it to quiver or give away my anxiety. “Serial number N27461.”
Once again, the guard checks his tablet, confirming my identity and that we are to be there. He waves his hand and one of the others hits a gold button encircled in bronze, forcing the steel doors to slide open, while our escort steps aside; she is not allowed within the tribunal chambers as only those summoned are.
Following Renal and Commander Vye, I step inside the darkened interior where a bright, white light shines down upon a podium, blocking the view of those sitting in judgement of our actions. I move my eyes, keeping my head still, trying to take in the scene around me (black walls with tapestries hanging from the ceiling, each with Arel’s crest, unmoving even from the slightest draft), while ahead of me lies a long, raised bench with three high-ranking arbiters seated upon it, each with sour expressions. Unlike last time, I shiver from the judgmental atmosphere, despite the warmth of the air and the fact that I wear my full uniform.
Movement in a far corner catches my attention, and I turn my head without thinking, catching a glimpse of an ivory train with gold and circles embroidered upon it before it creeps back into the shadows. Commander Vye clears her throat, and I flick my head forward, hoping that none of the tribunal has noticed my insolence, but a quick peek tells me that they did.
“Lieutenant Renal,” says a drawn-out voice, and I look at the one it belongs to, noting that like my commander, the woman has her head shaved, but unlike Commander Vye, her scowl could freeze molten metal.
Renal takes the podium, remaining at attention and his face betrays none of the turmoil that might be reeling within his mind.
“You were on patrol when the attacks happened and when the school within the eastern sector was bombed,” says the same member of the council.
“Yes, ma’am,” answers Renal.
“Tell us, in your own words, what happened that night.”
Renal takes a moment to inhale and let out a slow breath. “I was on patrol with Arbiter Noni when someone threw a rock at one of the loudspeakers in the main square. Arbiter Noni and I pursued the suspect and subdued him. At this time, an alert flashed on our wristbands. I told Arbiter Noni to take the suspect to detainment, while I went to see what the alert was about.”
“You let her go alone with your detainee?” says another member of the council.
“Yes, sir,” replies Renal. “She is more than capable of handling herself and we could not leave the suspect alone on the streets, nor could we take him with us to investigate what might have caused the alert to go off. So, I thought it best to split up for the moment. She is well-trained and I knew she could catch up afterwards.”
“And what did you find?” asks the first member of the council.
“I found three citizens out after curfew, attempting to sneak out of the city.”
“Can you identify them?”
“No.”
It takes all of my resolve not to jerk my head in Renal’s direction and to keep my face impassive. He lied. Why would he do that? I know that he and Sigal were on friendly terms, perhaps they were friends, but anyone who opposes the law of Arel is considered an enemy of Arel and are to be dealt with accordingly. I think back to that night when I had caught up to him, but he had not seen me. He used Sigal’s name, pleaded with him to not leave, to not put him in the position of taking him to a containment box. I think back to when Chase had lied to save my life. Is this why Renal refuses to tell the truth? To spare me? Why would he? He has no idea I was even there. As far as he knows, I found him after some mysterious stranger had knocked him out and Sigal and his family had escaped. Perhaps he is lying to protect himself, but that does not seem like Renal.
“No?” questions the third member of the council. “You did not get a good look at them? You have no idea who they are? You have been in the eastern sector for seven years and you’re telling us that you cannot guess who they might have been?”
“I apologize to the council,” says Renal. “It was dark and I was unable to see their faces or make out any defining characteristics. I understand my failure and for that I know I must be reprimanded.”
“I ordered them to stop,” Renal replies.
“Did any of them speak?”
“No, ma’am.”
Another lie. The memory of that night floods my mind, and I find myself thrust back into that alley listening to Renal plead with Sigal to not go, to not put him in the position of arresting him, while Sigal begged Renal to let his wife and daughter go and arrest only him if he must arrest someone. I hear the desperation in both their voices in my mind as though I am there now.
“What happened afterward?” demands the second member of the tribunal.
“Someone struck me on the head,” answers Renal, “and I blacked out.”
“Do you know who did it?”
“No.”
“And afterward?”
“I woke up to Arbiter Noni informing me of a series of explosions that had rocked Arel. We headed for the nearest tunnel and took the railcar to the nearest bombing. There, Arbiter Noni entered the school and rescued some who were trapped inside.”
“One of whom was a plebeian,” says the first member of the council and her dark undertone makes it clear what she thinks of my actions. A part of me wonders if she ever smiles or even knows how to work those muscles in her face. I’m guessing the answer is no.
“As arbiters, we are charged with protecting all within Arel,” replies Renal. “Perhaps she had seen something. I’m sure this is what Arbiter Noni thought when she rescued her.”
Why is he covering for me?
“Perhaps,” says the same woman on the council, and I catch a glimpse of the pins on her collar, denoting her rank. “Is there anything else?”
“No.”
“You may step down.”
Renal stalks away from the podium, taking his place beside Commander Vye and stands at attention.
“Commander Vye,” says the same female member of the tribunal, “you may step forward.”