Chapter 8
A moment later, I’m escorted through another door off to my left, where more masked men and women wait. Without a word, someone grabs my wrist and snaps on a thick plastic bracelet. They press a button, and a red light blinks to life, flashing ominously.
“The tower of fire is a test of stamina,” she says.
“Think of it like a game of hot and cold. You must reach a predetermined point somewhere nearby.” She gestures to the device around my wrist. “That will tell you if you’re moving farther or closer to your goal.
Red for hot. Blue for cold. Understand?”
I nod slowly. I think so. House Aria members take pride in their physical health, and this sounds like the ultimate challenge to push those limits.
“You have ten minutes,” Stevie continues. “And you won’t be alone.”
“What does that mean?”
Her face stretches into a gleeful smile. “Other members of Aria will be out there tracking you and trying to stop you from reaching the target.”
“Stop me how?”
Stevie’s grin widens. “They can stop you any way they see fit. We can’t make this too easy.” She lifts an arm and spins around. “And that’s all the time we have for questions.”
She strides toward the doorway we entered. “Countdown ready?” she asks the masked figures, who slowly slink out of the room and disappear until it’s just Stevie and me. She taps the face of her watch.
“All good?” she asks, pressing a button before a bright red number ten appears on her screen. It’s already counting down, the seconds draining away. I suffer through a moment of indecision. What have I done?
“Get set . . . Go!”
My wristband shudders and then beeps before the light blinks more rapidly.
I look at it and then up at Stevie, who’s standing with her arms folded.
“Don’t just stand there,” she says. “Get the fuck out of here.”
She steps aside, and I don’t wait to be told again, reentering the vault where Devon, Anan, and the other members of Fiama stand at the far wall, watching me, their expressions a worrying mix of anger and bewilderment.
I don’t have time to assure them I’m not actually joining Aria. That would be impossible for so many reasons.
Instead, I take off.
The light on my wrist switches to red as I enter the tunnel. I pick left and take a few steps before the light turns blue. Nope. I double back, watching as it flashes red.
Okay, this isn’t so bad.
For a minute or so, I wind through the tunnels, ignoring everything around me.
The wristband offers just enough light to make out the walls and corners as I weave back and forth until I come to a ladder directing me back to the surface.
More blinking as the climb leads me to an elevator with a single glowing button.
I press it and ascend before emerging into a dark corridor of Amery I’ve never seen before.
Sweat is gathering at my hairline, and my breath heaves out in short bursts. It takes me a second to notice movement in the shadows. It’s impossible to make anyone out beyond the bright flashing of my light. They can easily see me, but I can’t see them.
The scuff of footsteps tells me I’m definitely not alone. I try to calm my breathing, hoping they’ll give away their position. Another sound off to my left suggests more than one person is lying in wait.
I take two steps to my left, and the light switches to blue.
Two to my right make it turn red. But someone is there.
I can make out a large shadow, and then .
. . the glint of steel. They have a weapon.
My heart pounds faster as I consider my options.
I take two more steps, and the light remains red.
So I run, hoping I’m cutting a path between my two attackers. Arms and legs pumping, I sprint with every ounce of speed I can. Something moves off to my right, and I let out a yelp before pain burns in my side.
I grunt and nearly miss a step before I slap a hand over my ribs. Instantly, I feel the telltale stickiness of blood. Someone sliced me open. I’m so shocked that I nearly stop running, but the pounding of footsteps behind me reminds me that I’m fucked if I don’t keep moving.
I veer left as my wristband turns blue, the light burning through the darkness. I quickly course correct, breathing a sigh of relief when it flashes red. Another hall and then another, before the light directs me toward an emergency exit.
I burst through the heavy door, but someone is waiting for me.
A slight figure wearing a mask stands at the bottom of the stairwell, blocking my way up. At least I know I’m on the right track.
“Little girl,” the figure taunts in a feminine voice. “Time to stop running.”
I approach and feint. The woman lurches left as I go right.
Somehow, I skirt past her, the wound in my side throbbing as I twist away from her grasp.
I make it two steps before something snags my ankle, and I’m going down.
I scream as my knee crashes into the metal stair, pain radiating up my thigh and into my hip.
The woman leaps, dropping on top of me. I snag her wrists, squeezing them, trying to stop her from clawing my face. We rock back and forth as the sharp edge of the stair digs into my back, making everything—my ribs, my knee, my spine—hurt.
Thankfully, the woman is smaller than I am. I try to use that to my advantage, rolling us to the side, until she’s pinned under me. We bump down a few steps, her spine scraping the edges as a scream tears from her throat.
I release one of her wrists and swing, my fist connecting with her cheek.
She howls as her head snaps to the side.
I take the opportunity to jump up, my right leg nearly crumpling under me. Briefly, I wonder if I broke it as I slam into the guardrail, using it for support. My attacker is still recovering from my punch as I try to catch my breath.
We both pause for a moment, and then she’s rolling over, pushing herself up. Her mask fell off at some point, and the murder in her eyes matches the blood running down her face.
“Bitch, I’ll kill you!” she shouts right before she leaps.
I swerve, and then I’m running up the stairs, that red light flashing as I ascend up and up with the woman close on my heels.
I make it a few flights before she’s on me again, her arms circling my waist as we go down in a heap, collapsing onto a landing between floors.
The metal grate digs into my stomach and thighs as I kick furiously.
She snags my ponytail, bending my neck back.
I scream and flail, trying to throw her off, but she leans down to circle an arm around my throat, snarling in my ear.
I snap my head up, connecting with her nose, the collapse of bone visceral as she screams. I toss her off, then I’m up and running again.
Now I have a head start, and I keep circling up and up as her shouts follow in my wake. I’ve gained enough ground that she can’t catch me as long as I keep moving, so I climb. Thankfully, the red light doesn’t waver as I wind higher and higher.
At some point, my attacker must decide it’s time to let the next person deal with me, because I don’t hear her chasing me anymore. I come to a stop, panting heavily, pressing a hand to my aching flank. I need a moment to breathe, but I’m painfully aware of the invisible ticking clock over my head.
I’m not sure how much time has passed, but my ten minutes must be nearly up.
When my dizziness subsides, I keep climbing. The wound in my side burns, though it doesn’t seem to be bleeding too badly. My knee screams with every step, and my legs are starting to feel like jelly.
Finally, I reach another landing before a darker, narrower staircase leads into shadows. I try the door to the left, but immediately my wristband flashes blue. Up it is, then.
I’m not sure how many more stairs I can climb.
After pushing through, I arrive at another door. Heaving it open, I step outside. I’m on the roof of Amery Academy. The view is dizzying. I can see the factories, greenhouses, and barns; the miles of flats; and the wild, sprawling Wastes beyond stretching across the horizon.
I’m not afraid of heights, but I sway on my feet.
The wind is fierce, battering against me, and I cling to a wall for balance.
The storm has picked up, and though I’d temporarily forgotten about the vague itching in my hands, distracted by my test, now tingles dance over my skin.
The clouds tumble, flashing with glowing purple hot spots before discharging in the distance.
I wish I could reach out and absorb that energy.
Channel the agonizing pain ripping through my body before sinking into the bliss that always comes after.
It would give me the courage I need right now.
But that isn’t an option.
Another flash of light reveals a body lying at the far end of the roof, smoke curling off the surface of charred skin.
Like everyone, I run for cover when the storms arrive because I harbor the same fear we all do—that I will be struck. But my worry isn’t that I’ll die.
It’s what they’ll see when I survive.
A shadowed figure emerges on the far side of the roof. I prepare myself for another fight when a masked Stevie steps into the light.
“Not bad, kiddo,” she says, folding her muscled arms and cocking her head.
I have absolutely no chance of surviving her one-on-one, and I almost choke on a sob. This is it. I made the foolish choice to piss off my father, and now I’ll fail and be cast out of Society. My life is over.
Stevie confidently crosses the roof without a shred of fear.
She stops near the edge to my right and peers down before gesturing me over.
Still clinging to the wall, I force myself to release it with aching hands, and then, with my arms out, I slowly approach on careful steps, like I’m balancing on a thin wire dangling over iron spikes.
And I haven’t even found the edge yet.
When I reach Stevie, she shakes her head and points up to a nearby pole, where a long wooden beam stretches across the gap between Amery and the Citadel to a second pole on the far side.
In theory, the other building isn’t that far away, but it might as well be a thousand miles.
Several figures are gathered on the opposite side, obscured by the darkness. Waiting for me.
A piece of rope is attached to the middle of the beam, and Stevie grabs the end and holds it out to me.
“Tie this around your waist and get ready to jump!”
I do as she asks before she hands me another coil of rope with a hook at one end.
“What do I do with this?” I ask, and she shrugs.
“Figure it out.”
I look at the rope, then at her, and then at the line of people in the distance.
She’s got to be kidding me.
Stevie rips off her mask, and for some reason, that makes me feel better. Like I’m not here all alone. “You can still give up,” she screams into the wind. “But if you walk away now, it’s all over.”
She’s right, and I don’t believe her anyway. The look on her face suggests she’d push me off the edge as soon as she’d let me walk away.
“No shame. Fiama kids aren’t usually cut out for this shit.”
Her confident smirk stirs something inside me—a feeling I’d long buried after my own father took away all sense of safety and freedom in my life.
I made a rash choice in picking Aria over my own House for one night, but as I stand up here with the world sprawling at my feet, I feel a kind of freedom I’ve never experienced before.
I forget about my surroundings. I forget my craving to absorb the energy cracking in the air and peer across the divide.
I see my father’s face and recall his scolding before I left home. I’ve tried to distance myself from his awful words, but they return with the force of a gut punch.
You will keep yourself for Knox.
Three years. And you will join the Society wives.
I’ve spent my whole life trying to please him. Trying to mold myself into the image of who he’s always wanted me to be. Choosing Aria’s test is the first truly rebellious thing I’ve ever done, and fuck does it feel good.
I shake my head to indicate I’m not changing my mind.
Stevie grins as the wind whips her hair, and a purple flash highlights the contours of her nose and cheeks. “Then have at it! Stand on the X. And make sure to swing straight.”
I accept her offering and shuffle near the spot she indicated. I look down, and the world tilts. The wind buffers against my back, and I spread my stance. I grip my tether with one hand and hang the coil of rope off my shoulder, still wondering what I’m supposed to do with it.
“Let’s go!” Stevie shouts. “You have one minute left!”
This is my moment.
The one where I decide.
I could choose to walk away from it all.
But without a House, I can’t join the Storm Guard, and that is the only thing I’ve ever really wanted.
I hold my breath. Count to three.
Don’t look down. Don’t look back.
I back up a few steps.
Then I’m hurtling toward the edge.
And I jump.