Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Two days ago, when I was done with training, Stella showed me a video. At first, I wasn’t sure what I was looking at, except that it was footage of a group of about twenty teenagers on a skating rink.
Then the image zoomed in on my own face. I was twelve – and Mace was skating right by my side, his frame still wiry, long before it filled out into the body of the full-fleshed Warrior that he is now.
A hollow opened in my stomach.
Even if Mace could skate fast and take turns with scalpel-like precision, he often dawdled by my side, while I made clumsy, half-arsed pirouettes.
In the footage, he tries to catch me when I lose my balance, but we end up toppling down together.
My hair fans out on the ice. We are both breathless with laughter.
We get up at the same time, me chattering endlessly.
Mace used to be a quiet boy, but it was okay, because I talked enough for both of us.
I had good grades in elementary school, and this is why I ended up in a Gymnasium in the Inner Circles, in the same class as him, even if I should have gone to the lower-ranking Outer Circles, considering what Quarter my parents belonged to.
Back then, I wasn’t the outsider that I am now. I had friends, but not Mace, not at first. Because he was so quiet, I hardly even noticed him, aside from the fact that he was a pretty boy, with his green eyes and dark blonde hair.
In my second year at the Gymnasium, I had to sit next to him in chemistry and biology. I can’t remember how it happened; we just kicked it off. For a whole year, we were inseparable. And then…
In the footage, I’m feeling the back of my head, and then both Mace and I look to the ground, searching.
Watching it, I suddenly remembered: it was the day I lost my favourite purple scrunchie.
And the day I lost Mace.
That same evening, his powers manifested, and he was packed off and sent to the Barracks.
Since both his parents were Warriors, it was all he’d ever wanted.
Looking back, I now have the distinct impression that things weren’t quite alright at home for him, but back then, I didn’t understand, and Mace didn’t talk much about himself.
He never complained.
A few days later, I tried to go and see him, excited to talk to him about the turn of events.
But I was refused entry at the Barracks.
Mace and I weren’t old enough to own an ART at the time, so I asked my mother to talk to his parents, to set up a video call with him.
I wanted to ask him what it was like to have a dream come true.
I sat on the other side of a half-open door listening as Mace’s mother dismissed my mum, telling her that a connection between Mace and me was ‘undesirable’. I knew why that was: my parents belonged to the Maintenance Quarter. The lowest of the low.
My mother came out of the room with a brittle smile and glassy eyes and told me that while she couldn’t reach Mace’s parents, she’ll try again.
I don’t think she did, and nor did I. That was when I first understood I wasn’t good enough. And I’ve known it every day since.
In the footage, I’m called away by our skating teacher. I turn away from Mace with an absent pat on his arm, without giving him a second look.
Mace skates alone for a while, still scouring the ice for my scrunchie. Minutes later, he bends down, plucks it off the ground and twists it between his fingers.
As I watched the footage of him smiling and shoving it in the pocket of his jeans, a mute howl built in my throat.
I didn’t know then that I’d never be close with Mace again.
Until now, nine years later, in this ballroom, where the alarms are still blaring, and I’m too numb to question what is happening.
I can feel the heat of his body against mine. He slowly inches upwards, and the move makes his hips tilt forwards, digging them into mine.
No, he’s definitely not the boy I knew anymore.
Mace’s gaze darkens for a moment, but then he tears his eyes away from me and towards my defensive dome. ‘Impressive shield you’ve got there, Ellie,’ he says.
‘Thanks?’
I wish I could string a single coherent sentence together, but I’m staring at the lines of Mace’s face in complete and utter disbelief.
And then, it strikes me. ‘Ellie?’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘Do you go by a different name now, Haeleanor Errington?’
My stomach dips.
And then, warmth starts to spread throughout my entire body. He remembers.
He remembers me – not only that, but my full name.
‘Is that the way to greet a friend?’ I say. ‘By throwing me to the ground?’
He frowns. I don’t know what to read into it. ‘I was trying to stop you hurting yourself,’ Mace goes on to say. ‘Does that sound familiar?’
My heart flutters in my chest and a huge grin spreads on my face. ‘Terribly familiar.’
The alarms are blaring and so much is happening around us, but I can’t tear my gaze from his.
Mace looks away first – behind us, towards the stage. ‘There they are,’ he says.
I follow the direction of his gaze. At the back of the ballroom, Xandra, Allen and Julian have hooked themselves with bands of red magic to one of the towers where acrobats danced before this madness began.
Most people are still being bashed around, but some of them, like Mace’s team, have managed to anchor themselves to something.
You can spot the Commanders from a mile away. They’re standing on tiles that are lit in silver, unmoved and undisturbed by the chaos in the ballroom.
‘What’s happening?’ I ask.
‘I’m not sure,’ Mace says. ‘But I have a suspicion.’
I need to find a way to reach Stella and ask her what’s going on. But I’m stuck in this dome.
I could think of worse fates.
‘This is a drill,’ a man’s voice calls through the speakers. Okay. ‘The Test Missions are about to start for the Apprentices of the Warriors’ Quarter.’
‘Figures,’ Mace says, just as the forcefields that were throwing people around cease and stillness takes over the ballroom. People are moaning and sobbing, rubbing bruised extremities or heads.
This was such a jerk move from Central Command. Dozens of Apprentices have been looking forward to this evening for months. And now the ball has been ruined.
Mace tries to get up, banging his head against the protection dome. ‘Drop the shield,’ he says. ‘Didn’t you hear? The missions are starting.’
The rest of Mace’s team has dissolved their tethers and they’re coming towards us, and everyone in the ballroom seems to be breathing in relief.
Mace pushes at the dome with his elbows, but there’s no give. ‘Are you keeping me captive?’
‘Central Command hasn’t moved an inch,’ I say, and before Mace has even begun to reply, the forcefields start again, tossing people around.
I’m enjoying a triple victory: I didn’t let Command catch me on the wrong foot with their sneaky orders; I proved Mace that I was right to be wary, and he’s, yet again, pressing his body against mine.
But he’s about to be sent for weeks on a mission outside the walls of The Citadel. Right after I finally managed to say hi for the first time in nine years.
Just my luck.
The madness is picking up pace around us, for the second time within minutes.
Mace is smiling like a demon and I wonder what’s putting him in such a good mood. He’s looking to our right, where Julian is desperately trying to attach a whip of power to any sort of solid anchor but keeps being thrown instead into a group of screaming Healers. I recognise Chrissy among them.
A few feet away from us, Allen and Xandra have tied themselves to one of the support pillars.
Allen’s eyes catch mine and the corners of his lips lift. Watcha doin’? he seems to be saying.
I answer him with a wide smile. Having the time of my life, can’t you see?
Allen laughs like a maniac.
‘You know Allen?’ Mace’s deep voice vibrates deep into my belly.
‘I met him a few days ago,’ I say.
The force field abruptly stops throwing people around.
The six Commanders of The Citadel step towards the centre of the dance floor.
I scramble to let down the energy dome, my eyes glued on them.
Mace hoists me up by the arm while I’m glaring at the people who decide our fates, the ones who even Stella answers to.
They’re dressed in formal uniforms with clean-cut grey jackets with silver linings.
There are four men among the Commanders, and two women; one of them looks about fifty years old, with her greying hair pinned up in a tight bun.
The other seems to be about forty years old, with light blonde, chin-long hair.
Next to me, Mace salutes and I hurry to copy him.
One of the Commanders steps forwards. It’s the one Mace was talking to earlier.
‘At ease,’ he says. He’s a tall, burly man with dark hair, slicked back.
‘I hope you’ve been enjoying yourselves tonight, but never forget that one of the principles laid down by our brilliant Founders was that no citizen of The Citadel should overindulge.
If you have done so and did not adhere to our principles, you will pay the price.
The Test Missions for the final-year Warriors’ Quarter Apprentices are about to begin. ’ He pauses to look around him.
‘That’s Commander Sellick,’ Mace quickly whispers in my ear, and his hot breath on my skin makes me shiver. ‘The unofficial Head of the current Central Command.’
I want him to keep whispering. It wouldn’t even matter what he says as long as his lips are brushing the shell of my ear.
Focus, Ellie. This is serious.
It’s odd, how we slip into old roles, how a serious, younger Mace used to tell me about the workings of our city, because he always knew much more than I did about our world. As exceptional Warriors, his parents were high up in the command centre.
Commander Sellick goes on to say, ‘As usual, some of the mission teams will include members from other Quarters, just to test your flexibility and capacity to adapt.’