Chapter 2
chapter
two
Haven
Ihaven’t moved from my bed since I learned of my engagement.
Mercy lies beside me, close enough that I can feel her warmth.
Gossamer curtains drift down from the canopy, shielding us from the world.
We used to share a room when we first arrived, huddling under the fluffy, eggshell-colored duvet, gripping each other’s hands so tightly we left behind scratches.
Our little arrangement ended the second Warrick realized I had a bit of an attitude problem. Overnight, he had Mercy relocated to the east wing in the hopes that it would save her from my corruption.
“Are you okay?” Mercy whispers.
“No,” I say, in an empty voice. “I’m not. I can’t be engaged. Not to him.”
I hardly know the new Commandant, but if I had to guess, I would assume he is just like his father. Ruthless and cold-hearted.
Since I plan to put a bullet in his father’s head one day, I don’t think it is wise to get entangled with him.
She hesitates. “Because of Grayson?”
I shake my head. Grayson Sullivan is my best friend and the lieutenant’s son.
He’s somewhere in Division Six now. Last I heard, he was in the Wastes, a treacherous ruin full of snow, corpses, and buildings that crumbled.
It is uninhabitable and exists at the edge of South Mire.
Every once in a while, rumors crop up that the members of the Resistance are living in old bunkers, and soldiers are swiftly dispatched to investigate.
Poor Grayson is drowning under orders right now, hunting a rebel camp that probably doesn’t exist.
“No, Mercy,” I say slowly. “Gray and I kiss when we’re bored. That’s all. Not everything is a love story.”
Mercy doesn’t respond, and I know that I’ve disappointed her. My sister longs for there to be some good left in the world. I feel a spark of guilt when the light fades from her eyes, but it’s better this way. Hope makes it harder to survive.
She should know better than to trust men when our father is a monster. The only person worse than him is the Supreme Director, who rules the Continent.
New Foundry is divided into eight divisions, each designed to function like a sealed unit. And within these clusters are the various boroughs, which are smaller, controlled subdivisions.
When a civilian is classified as Gifted, they are transferred to Division One along with their families and are given a fixed salary. Most of them enlist in the military to gain access to better housing, higher social circles, and generous tax breaks.
“What will we do?” Mercy asks. “I don’t want to be a soldier.”
“I don’t want to be a wife,” I say.
“I’d rather be a wife than a soldier,” Mercy mumbles.
I sit upright so quickly it startles her. But the idea is too perfect to ignore.
“What if you didn’t have to be a soldier,” I say slowly, “and I didn’t have to be a wife?”
“We’re going to run away?” Mercy asks. Her eyes widen, round as saucers. “How will we do that?”
“Well, no,” I say. “We are going to do a switch.” I grab her hand before she can pull away. “It’s perfect, Mercy.”
The sparkle in her eyes vanishes.
“We’re not children anymore,” she says dejectedly. “Warrick knows when we do that.”
She’s right. Warrick is the only person who can tell us apart.
I once pretended to be Mercy when he was looking for me.
I despised interacting with him then. Each word I exchanged with him felt like glass scraping my throat.
He didn’t fall for the trick, and he shook me so hard, my teeth rattled, warning me to never play such foolish games again.
I suspect he knows because he’s a Kinetic and can read our heat signatures.
“But we’re not tricking Warrick,” I say. “We’re deceiving everyone else. Nobody knows us as he does. They won’t be able to tell us apart. This is genius.”
Mercy hesitates. “It’s risky.”
“We owe this to our mother,” I whisper. “I have to punish Warrick and the Supreme Director for what they did to her. I have to go to the Forge. I have to be at the heart of it all.”
I had applied to join the Forge for the last three years, back when Commandant Breckin was in charge.
After completing the one-year program, the Commons join the Garrison.
They patrol the boroughs, maintain checkpoints along the main roads, and enforce curfews to keep the population in line.
Meanwhile, the Gifted serve in the elite corps, headquartered at the capital, and are mainly focused on taking down the Resistance.
If I got into the Garrison, I would be able to learn what happened to my mother and move freely across the Continent, which would give me the chance to learn about the Resistance. If my mother did, in fact, serve them, I want to know why.
“She was a rebel,” Mercy says softly. “Article V of the Code states that to shelter, assist, or sympathize with the Untamed is to commit treason.”
I recoil at her words.
“Did you just quote that dumb book of horseshit?” I ask.
The Code is the closest thing we have to a religious text. There was a single, unified faith before called the Church of the Forgotten Light. But ever since the regime was established, it became forbidden to worship as per Article III, subsection 4.
All religious practices and doctrines are hereby dissolved. Any expression of spiritual devotion will be prosecuted.
I snuck into one of the old chapels, years ago, with Grayson.
We broke down the boards that sealed the door and stared at the mural on the wall.
There was a bunch of angels and saints, candles and fireflies.
It tore the breath out of my chest. Beauty like that had faded a long time ago.
It felt like we had fallen into an old world.
“I don’t mean she deserved it,” Mercy says quickly. “I just… understand why it happened. Even if it was a tragedy.”
“Do you think I should be killed?” I ask.
The question hurts more than I expected. I never thought I would have to ask my own twin, but if she can condemn our mother so easily, then I must be on par with the rebels. Because they are not the only ones evading the Bind. I cheated the system too.
I may not be with the Resistance, but I am a criminal.
When we were six, the enforcers came to our house along with a lab technician to test us. I had just begun to show signs of my gifts. Mother said I was a Timebender who was able to stop and control time.
The lab technician had drawn Mercy’s blood first, and she had been identified as a Common. When it was time for mine, Mom asked me to freeze time so she could make Mercy and me switch places. Mercy’s blood was drawn twice that day.
Mother never wanted me to reveal the truth. I didn’t understand it then, but I do now. All of the Gifted are classified as either Class One, Two, or Three. And all Class One powers are illegal. They are deemed ‘too dangerous’ by the regime. Those who possess these abilities are called Untamed.
I am an Untamed. I wouldn’t even qualify for the Bind, because I am not supposed to exist.
I leap out of my bed, refusing to hear what Mercy says next. I know her thoughts on this. I’ve heard it a million times.
“I just don’t understand, Haven,” Mercy whispers. “This…this secret is dangerous. If they ever learn that you hid your powers, then they will execute you. Maybe Warrick wil—”
“Warrick will protect me?” I laugh dryly. “Like he protected our mother?”
“Mother lied to us,” Mercy says, frustrated. “There is so much we did not know about her.”
Our mother never told us the whole truth.
Warrick rarely spoke about her at all, as if saying her name might fracture something he’d sealed shut a long time ago.
Sullivan told me once that she had been a researcher in Division Two and had been working on an advancement to the Bind.
Sullivan says she was forced to step down, that she was too curious for her own good, and misused her clearance badge.
“She fought for me, and I’m certain that if she joined the Resistance, it was because she believed in their purpose,” I say.
“Why can’t you see that you are taking the same path that she is?” Mercy says desperately. “I can’t lose you, too, Haven. I can’t watch another person I love die.”
Mercy’s face is pale, and I can hear the stuttering sound of her waning breath. She curls into herself, as if that will stop the burgeoning attack.
I race to her side, watching her eyes widen in horror.
“You are okay, Mercy,” I say gently. “Remember what I taught you. Inhale. One, two, three. Exhale. One, two, three.”
Mercy struggles to follow my instructions, and I grip her hand tight.
“You can do it, Mercy,” I say encouragingly. “Just follow my lead.”
Mercy inhales, and by the third try, she looks fairly better, and my shoulders drop in relief.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I thought those didn’t happen anymore.”
“They don’t,” she says, avoiding my gaze. “I’m just scared that I’ll lose you and be all alone.”
“Nothing will happen to me, Mercy,” I promise. “I’ll be careful. Always.”
I wrap my arms around her. A sob escapes her, and I feel terrible for being harsh to her. I forgot how sensitive she is.
Just like I blame Warrick for her death, Mercy blames our mother. Mercy doesn’t like the fact that she broke the rules, knowing the consequences of opposing the regime. To Mercy, it feels like a betrayal. Like she purposely chose to abandon us.
“Don’t leave me, Haven,” she pleads. “You’re all I have.”
“Everything will be fine,” I say, shushing her. “I swear it.”
It feels insensitive to bring this up when she’s so upset, but in a few days, Ender Vale will come to drag me away from everything I’ve ever known, and I refuse to be trapped in another gilded cage.
“Mercy, we need to switch places,” I say, drawing back to look her in the eye. “I have to go to the Forge and you…well, you have to go with Ender.”
Mercy stiffens.
“Warrick will kill us,” she says. “I don’t know anything about Ender Vale, but if he’s anything like his father, he’s probably frightening. What if he finds out we deceived him?”
“Do you want to shoot people instead?” I ask. “Do you want to be knocked around by a bunch of wild-eyed recruits with nothing to lose and get maimed in the process?”
Mercy flinches. I feel an inkling of guilt for frightening her, but Grayson spoke often about his time in the Forge.
He called it a ‘hellhole’ designed to break the strongest person.
It will eat her alive, and as much as I want to run away from my destiny, I also fear for her.
Warrick wouldn’t blink an eye if they returned her corpse in a few months.
“Of course not.”
“Then this is the only way,” I say firmly.
Her expression is resigned. She doesn’t want to marry the Commandant any more than I do. But at least this way we’ll both have a chance of surviving. I can face whatever torment the Forge has in store for me, but I know nothing about marriage.
“How do we do this?”
I smile.
“Leave it all up to me.”