Sapient Salvation 1: The Selection (Sapient Salvation Series) (14 page)

The introductions of the Obligates who went before me were a blur. But when Lord Toric’s gaze fell on me, everything snapped into such sharp focus it nearly stole the breath from my lungs. I gathered myself as best I could and tried to look and sound confident. I counted it a small victory that my voice didn’t shake during my introduction.

Iris and I had debated about my introduction, and she’d advised me to go with something less controversial, but I’d refused. When she realized she wasn’t going to sway me, she cautioned me that the nature of my introduction would draw attention and possibly criticism. She’d warned me that some might see my words as insolence, maybe even scandalous, coming from a slave, so I was ready for the reaction of the crowd. But I carried on as if all was well. At least, I hoped it appeared that way.

I didn’t have enough presence of mind to really analyze the audience’s response. Iris was in the audience and I knew she would tell me later what she thought. She’d strongly urged me to temper my introduction, but by Lord Toric’s reaction—a subtle yet unmistakable heightened interest and tiny smile of approval—I felt I’d made the right choice.

At the end of the introductions, my eyes lingered on Lord Toric as he, Akantha, and the Priestess disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel under the throne.

A moment later, the Obligate guides rose from their seats, and Iris took her place beside me. As we left with the others in an orderly double line through the door that led to our dressing rooms, I glanced at Iris’s face but couldn’t read her expression.

Once we were out of the view of the audience, the woman ahead of Iris clutched at her Obligate charge’s arm. “You could not have been better,” she said to Kalindi. “Impeccable.”

It suddenly struck me that Kalindi’s guide seemed rather invested in her Obligate’s performance. Scanning the other guide-Obligate pairs, I realized several whispered discussions had begun, and the pairs were hurrying into the privacy of the dressing rooms.

As soon as Iris and I were alone in my room, I turned to her and heaved a sigh, tired now that my adrenaline was draining away. “Well? How did I do?”

She clasped her hands at her waist and peered at me earnestly for a moment. “You made a striking impression on Lord Toric. And on the rest of those gathered.”

My eyebrows lifted, and I gave her a pointed look as I waited for her to elaborate. When she didn’t, I finally asked, “Good or bad?”

She pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth and tilted her head down for a moment, but not before I saw a spark in her dark eyes. She raised her head and gave me a shrewd, appraising look. “I think you have set yourself up as one to watch in this Tournament. And that is good. Very good. Much better than being meek or forgettable. However, because your introduction was unconventional, you may find that this is not as positively reflected in the initial ranks of favor as we would like.”

I went to the divan and sat, happy to be able to rest my feet. It seemed like I’d been awake for days. It had to be the middle of the night back on Earthenfell. Maybe even early morning. I hadn’t been near a window in many hours and had no idea of the time.

“The blonde vixen, Kalindi, is obviously prepared and will score well,” Iris continued. “A couple of the other women who were trained will probably score ahead of you, too. But don’t worry about that now. We’ve just gotten started. Now you must ready yourself for a real challenge. One that is much more significant than the introduction.”

“Now?” I winced, hoping she didn’t actually mean
right
then.

“Yes, now.”

I groaned. “I thought we’d have some time, at least be able to sleep . . .?”

Iris shook her head and went to the door. I hadn’t noticed the clothing of some sort hanging there. She took the hangers from their hook and brought them to me. “We can keep talking while you change.”

I pulled off the black Departure garb, the dress I still thought of as Belinda’s. It felt as if I’d been wearing it for days. I hung it on one of the hooks nearby and faced Iris in my underclothes.

“The first challenge begins tonight,” she said. She handed me slim, stretchy pants that reminded me of the skin-tight shorts I wore for collecting fruit in the orchards. Like my shorts, these pants were black. The three-quarter sleeved shirt was made of the same fabric, and similarly form-fitting.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “You purposely kept that little detail from me.”

“Oh come now, it’s not as if I lied to you,” she said. She passed me a pair of lightweight black shoes with grippy treaded soles. “But I did it for your own good. I can see that you’re the type of woman who needs to take one thing at a time.”

I cocked my head as a small smile slipped across my lips. “Lucky guess.”

Iris was right. I always did better—whether at school, work, or anything else—when I could focus on completing the task in front of me before worrying about the next thing. Lana was the one who seemed able to juggle many things and hold lots of details in her mind all at once. My nose and eyes prickled with the sudden threat of tears at the thought of my sister.

I ducked my head as I leaned over to pull on the shoes, hiding my face while I tried to compose myself.

When I looked up, Iris tilted her head at the tray of food and water. “You will be glad later if you have something to eat now,” she said. “You need to keep your strength up.”

The food had been replenished. I wasn’t really hungry, but I reached for two thin slices of meat and draped them across a piece of crusty white bread.

Iris sat down on the divan next to me and leaned forward, her face earnest. “Maya, I know you’re grieving and exhausted, but you must find a way to light a fire in yourself. You’re going to face real danger in this first challenge. Not everyone will come out of it alive.”

I chewed for a moment, my mouth suddenly too dry for food. I forced down a swallow and met her gaze, thinking of how the other guides had whispered with their Obligates after the introduction ceremony. “What is your stake in this?”

She pulled her head back a little in surprise. “Stake?”

“Why do you care if I do well? As our advisors, do you and the other guides stand to gain or lose something?” I asked, trying to be as direct as I could.

“I can’t discuss that.”

I was beginning to wonder how much I could trust her. She seemed to be purposely doling out details of the contest—the Tournament of the Offered, the Calistans called it—in very small tidbits. And now, she was withholding something significant, something that possibly affected the way she prepared me for the challenges. And just as important, it was something that affected how the other Obligates were being coached by their guides, too.

I gave her an unrelenting stare. “You promised me honesty, Iris.”

“I promised honesty in all matters that I could discuss with you,” she said, returning my hard look. “This is one that I am forbidden to talk about. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.” She pointed at a spot behind her ear, indicating her implant.

“And that goes for the other Obligates, too? Their guides are also withholding this information from them?”

“Yes. Upon my family’s name, that is the truth.”

She’d said she couldn’t discuss it, but hadn’t denied that she did have some stake in my performance. Even though I didn’t know the details, I could only hope that this was good for me, that it meant she would do what she could to help me perform well. I tried to take some comfort in that thought instead of letting my mind wander to other possibilities . . . such as wagers placed on our performances and that our guides might have a vested interest some of us doing better than others. Such a sobering thought. What if the guides were part of their own game, their own competition? Unless Iris slipped and revealed something she wasn’t supposed to—and her implant probably made that impossible—there was no way for me to know. I reached for a purple-red turnibeet and bit into its crisp flesh.

Iris shifted on the divan, crossing her legs and hooking her clasped hands over her knees. “Is there anyone among the Obligates that you know well enough to trust with your life?”

I stopped chewing for a second, taken aback at the abruptness of the question. “No, I don’t know any of them that intimately. Recently I’ve spoken to Orion a handful of times, and I think—” I paused, considering what to say about Orion. I barely knew him and most of my familiarity with him stemmed from our common plight as Obligates. Still, I couldn’t help but feel that he was an honorable man and someone I could trust. “Well, I do not know him with the familiarity that comes from many years’ friendship, but from our recent interactions, I believe he has a compassionate and trustworthy nature.”

“And does Orion know any of the others well? Any of the women, in particular?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem so. Why would that matter?”

“If he is closer with someone else, he may prefer that person over you.”

My brow wrinkled. I wasn’t sure what she was getting at.

“If there is an Obligate you believe you can trust, forming an alliance could help you,” she said. “By far your safest bet is aligning yourself with a male Obligate because—”

“He and I aren’t in direct competition,” I finished her sentence for her. “So that’s why some of the women were trying to talk to some of the men after we got our implants. The girl who got punished, the one with the bobbed hair, she was trying to talk to Orion when Akantha caught her.”

“Did he seem to be entertaining her request?”

“I don’t think so, but they didn’t really have time to talk about it. We haven’t been allowed to speak to each other so far. I assume that restriction will be lifted during this first challenge?” I was trying to imagine what it might be—the challenge to cull the weak—but with no knowledge of the nature of challenges that past Obligated had faced, I couldn’t fathom what the overlords had in store for us.

“Yes, you’ll get permission to communicate freely.”

“Iris, can you tell me about past challenges? The culling one during your tournament as an Obligate, perhaps?”

She blinked, and her eyes grew distant. “Why yes, I can tell you that,” she said after a long pause. “We were dropped on the edge of a rocky cliff overlooking the sea. We were forced to climb down and cling to tiny ledges on the side of the cliff overnight. A storm came in, and the water raged against the rocks below . . .” She trailed off, and her dark eyes shifted around the room but didn’t seem to register our surroundings.

“Some of the Obligates . . . fell?”

“Yes. There were fewer ledges than Obligates, so there were tussles between some of the competitors.”

The blood seemed to drain from my face. I shivered and curled my arms around my middle. “How did you manage to survive?”

“I went low on the cliff, down to the lowest ledge. I think the others didn’t want to come down after me and challenge for my space, especially when the water began to rise. It was a lucky strategy, except that I was—” She stopped and cleared her throat. “I was in an unfortunate position to see the ones who didn’t make it. I tried to save one girl who fell, but the tide swept her away, tore her hand right out of mine.”

I shivered again as I imagined watching Obligates fall to their deaths, listening to their screams, watching them drown. Drawing a sharp breath in, I gave my head a small shake. That was in the past, and I had to focus on my own battles.

“So I should try to form a partnership with Orion. What else?”

“Beware of the others. The trained ones, especially, may be ruthless.”

I clenched my jaw and silently reprimanded myself. I should have paid closer attention to the other Obligates’ introductions, instead of ogling Lord Toric. “Besides Kalindi, which of the others seemed trained?”

“Larisa, the one Akantha punished. Meribel, the little waif with the big round eyes, and Britta, the tall athletic-looking one.”

I knew who Larisa was of course, and I remembered Meribel and Britta. Neither had the grace of Kalindi, though Meribel possessed an endearing pixie quality. In a physical contest, Britta definitely had an edge. She was tall, slim, and toned, and I recalled that when we were children she enjoyed challenging the fastest boys to footraces and was known for beating most of them.

A chime sounded, and I jumped.

Iris stood. “It’s time to return to the throne room. Then you’ll be set loose for the challenge.” She gripped my shoulders and looked straight into my eyes. “You are strong and intelligent. Keep your head about you, and you will beat this challenge, Maya.”

I nodded, suddenly too nervous to speak. She pulled at the end of her braid and then held out something. It was her hair tie. “Pull your hair up, secure it into a knot. One less thing to get in your way or for the others to grab at.”

“Thank you.” I took the hair tie and did as she suggested.

Outside my dressing room, the others were lining up in Obligate-guide pairs. A welling of gratitude swept through me. I turned to Iris. “Thank you,” I whispered. “For being my guide. I do not know whether you had a choice in the matter, but I appreciate that I have you.”

She squeezed my forearm. “You are welcome.”

Then we were parading back into the throne room. As before, our guides left us to go to their seats in the audience and we Obligates stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the center of the floor, facing the throne.

Lord Toric emerged from the hallway below the throne, flanked by Akantha and the woman in shimmering robes, the High Priestess. The two women stopped at the base of the throne platform, as they had before. Our empty jars had been cleared from the floor.

Once Lord Toric was settled on his carved wooden chair, everyone in the audience sat down with a soft swish of clothing and shuffle of shoes.

Akantha stepped forward. “On behalf of Lord Toric, I present the initial ranks of favor in the Tournament of the Offered.” I could have sworn I caught a brief flash of annoyance pass over her face when she said Lord Toric’s name. She turned to gesture up at the throne with one slim arm.

I peered up at Lord Toric for a moment before I realized that everyone was looking at the wall above him.