Chapter 1
Iwonder what would’ve happened if I’d said no to my brother.
Would he have let it go? Or would he have kept trying until one of us finally believed the Hunt could be more than another promise made to people with nothing left to lose?
Would we still be back in our apartment on Calder, watching his medication run out and pretending we didn’t already know how the story ended?
Well, I guess I’ll never know.
Because the moment I step into the intake hall, I forget the question.
I can only stare up at the glass that rises three storeys above me. Then down at the white floors gleaming beneath my boots and the countless boots surrounding mine.
Everyone has come here hoping for the same thing.
Someone bumps another candidate’s shoulder hard enough to spill his duffel bag across the polished floor. Nobody helps him gather his things. A woman farther ahead slips between two brothers arguing over which queue is shorter, earning herself three places before either of them notices.
By the time the guards bark for silence, everyone has already started measuring everyone else.
I don’t know what I’d been thinking, but the moment I see the six enormous black-and-gold banners bearing the crest of the Vultures and feel the presence of all the candidates standing shoulder to shoulder, I know I’ve made a terrible mistake.
Onyx did.
No...
I did.
Because I failed to convince him otherwise.
The place is crowded with stunned faces. Wide eyes. Men and women like me who’ve never seen this much wealth in one place. People who all received the invitation to take part in the Hunt. Some chasing a better future. Others running from the one they already have.
I think of my twin brother lying in bed, his face too pale, too gaunt, his throat convulsing as he gasps and gasps.
I’ll make you better.
Around me, more candidates continue filing into the hall, and I catch more than a few familiar accents while recognizing the patches stitched onto worn sleeves. Calder, like me. Düren, where the dust stains everything red. Even two candidates wearing the deep blue of Helion.
That surprises me.
Helion is the richest planet in the Reach. I can’t imagine what anyone from there could possibly need badly enough to risk the Hunt.
Some faces are drawn tight with exhaustion after days of travel. Others laugh among themselves as though they’ve already decided they’ll survive. I wonder if they’re scared at all, or whether that’s another luxury only the rest of us can afford.
High above, behind smoked glass overlooking the hall, figures stand in complete silence. Some wear elegant masks of black and gold that hide everything except their eyes. Others remain in the shadows, impossible to make out.
None of them wave.
None acknowledge us at all.
It feels less like an introduction than livestock arriving at an auction.