Chapter 33
Syra is standing over me when I open my eyes, holding a gray shard full of shadows and light. The soft surface of the Heartfiller is like ash turned to stone, but within, veils of silver ripple when it catches the light. “For your pain, Contestant Fifty-Four.”
I scramble to sit up, pulling my covers over my gown. “My pain? I’m not hurt.”
“Your sadness. The Benevolent has approved special use of these mourning Heartfillers.” She sets the dark Heartfiller on my vanity before shuffling quickly out the door.
I slip out of bed and pad across the room to look at them more closely.
I’ve never seen a Heartfiller like this one before.
It’s the second unfamiliar Heartfiller I’ve seen since coming here.
There are only three varieties, I’d thought.
The ones we are issued: One for euphoria, an intense jolt of emotional elevation; one for memory, stimulating parts of the mind where memories are stored to replay them over and over for a time; and one to induce sleep.
But there was the dark-coral memory one that caused all of our violent hallucinations, and now this one.
I was sad most of the night, waking up off and on to cry, as if all the tears I should have cried my entire life had unlodged themselves. And now I feel strangely lighter. As if there’s a medicine in tears. But this…
A mourning filler…
I turn the smooth faceted glass in my hand before dropping it in the disposal basket.
Sitting up, I try to pull myself together, but I have no desire to leave my room.
I have no desire to leave my bed. I only wish that I could see Caelus.
When did I become so dependent on him? I hate it.
I finally exhale, put on fresh clothes, and drag myself to the door.
He might be at breakfast. I also need to see Mae and tell her everything. I turn the door handle.
It doesn’t move.
I shake it.
“Hello?” It’s locked. I wriggle the door harder, pounding on the wood. “Hello! Is there anyone out there? Let me out! Let me out, right now.” I pace my room and spot a tray of food I missed. On it is a note. It’s handwritten.
As I look into the surprising incident of last evening to ensure this was tournament-related, please enjoy a few extra days in your quarters.
Graciously,
The Benevolent
We are locked in our rooms. I recklessly bang on the door again.
No one comes. When the sky is bruised, the color of evening, my door opens, a tray of food is slid inside, and it shuts again before I can even see the deliverer’s face.
The door is locked again.
The next day, I sit near the door for hours, knees tucked to my chest, listening for any sign of things going on outside.
I hear nothing. No one. No whispered conversations, no boots on polished floors.
The mourning Heartfiller still sits in my waste bin like a patient threat.
I fish it out of the trash, then toss it back in. Over and over.
I think about Caelus. His voice. His hand on my back. The way his presence calms the static in my chest. How sure he is that we can get out of here. His determination, his hope, his gentle and quiet defiance. I shouldn’t miss him. I do anyway.
I try to sleep, but I float at the edge of it, half dreaming, half waiting for something to change.
Nothing does.
I wake with a gasp before dawn, disoriented. I had a dream of Caelus diving into an ocean of choppy waves to save Orrick. But as he swam him to the shore, Orrick became too heavy, and they both drowned.
My breakfast tray is already here. I didn’t hear anyone come. I eat a little, but it tastes like death. Still no word. Still no knocks. Are the others still locked in too?
I whisper Mae’s name. Then Caelus’s. Just to hear a voice in the room.
The mourning filler is still untouched. But now, I keep it closer. Just in case.
I braid my hair. Undo it. Braid it again. Then wrap it into a bun.
Anything to fill the time.
The dreams last night were worse. I was walking through a hallway that never ended. No doors. Just eyes, watching. I start talking out loud to Caelus as if he’s here. I tell him about the dream. About how angry I am that I miss him.
I hate this.
I hate how easy it is to need him.
I press my forehead to the door. “Please,” I whisper. “Let me out.”
Nothing answers. I consider the Heartfiller, holding it this time in my hands.
When the door opens, Syra is there. She scans my room without a word, spots the unused Heartfiller in my hands, then leaves. A few minutes later the door opens again. She’s returned with Dreth. His eyes drop to the unused filler.
“The Benevolent would like to see you,” he says.