The Unspoken: Book One in the Keres Trilogy (16 page)

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Authors: A. E. Waller

Tags: #magic, #girl adventure, #Fantasy, #dytopian fiction, #action adventure, #friendship

BOOK: The Unspoken: Book One in the Keres Trilogy
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Leave it alone,

I say quietly.

I will take care of it. It

s my responsibility.

Their eyes grow round and wide, staring at me as I wring the suit out and hang it over the shower door. They tuck their hands under their aprons and purse their lips.


You are not permitted to wash things on your own, you don

t know the first thing about the delicate fabrics,

one of them says to me.


Yes, Mother,

I say while I spread out the legs and arms of the suit trying to pull the wrinkles out.


You must put your clothes in the hamper, all of your clothes, even your Service uniforms.


Yes, Mother.


We will have to note your disobedience in your file of course.


Yes, Mother.

I barely keep the tremors of anger out of my voice. They are baiting me. I know they are. And it

s working.


Punishments in the morning. For now, off to bed. Power down will be soon.


Yes, Mother.

They leave the bathroom in tight group and I let go of the suit leg. I have wrung it dry in my clinched fist.

The warning tone for power down sounds and I go to stand in our goodnight line.

Punishments in the morning. Be ready,

I say to the room at large.

I

m sorry.

Now it seems reckless to have brought the suit off the hall. I should have asked Zink where we have them laundered, do we really send them to The Mothers? It seemed improbable, the suit was made on the hall by an Unspoken, not by the Keepers in the Necessities Center like the everyday clothes or other Service uniforms.

Now we will be punished because I forgot the most basic rule of Chelon. We do not take care of ourselves. Being on the hall and under Abbot

s training, I had forgotten that I still belong to Chelon and to my Play Group. And my Play Group belongs to The Mothers. My next tattoo better be that thought filing system that Zink offered to me the first day.

The next morning, I decide to find Zink

s den and ask him how he earned that tattoo. After knocking on two wrong dens, he opens the third door I try, numbered 15. He stands aside to let me walk through into his den.

I pull up short- his den is nothing like mine or Abbot

s. Ours are like cozy old libraries packed to the breaking point with books and nicknacks, Zink

s is all smooth lines and clean surfaces. Where I have wood and supple fabrics, Zink has metal, glass and sleek upholstery.


Yeah, it

s a little different from yours isn

t it?

he says.


Just a little,

I say.


It was designed by my mentor, just like Abbot designed yours,

he says.


Abbot designed my den?

I

m startled by this, I can

t imagine Abbot paying that much attention to anything like a room, let alone fill it with beautiful accessories and furniture.


Yes, he gifted everything you have down here. Your den, each piece in it, your uniforms, equipment, everything. It

s very expensive to be a mentor. Lucky new people don

t turn up on the hall often. We would all be bankrupt.


What does that mean, gifted?

That

s a new word.


He gave them to you. It

s not like when The Mothers issue things that will have to be returned or traded in, whatever you have here is yours. Forever. A present.


How can he do that? How does he have the right to give me anything?


He can do what he wants with his money. Just like anyone else,

Zink shrugs.

Money. We can earn money by returning to Service for extra hours after dinner or on the 7th day of the week, which is the rest day. Money can also be earned if The Mothers post tasks that need to be completed which aren

t assigned to a Service. Most people use what they earn to buy things needed to make ceremonial robes. They will have to make a set for each child they create, for Banding, and for Disengagement. I have never heard of anyone buying something and giving it to someone else for no reason other than that they can.

All of those things in my room I smashed were not assigned to me by The Mothers. They were presents given to me by Abbot. The surge of shame takes over me. He gave those beautiful and useful things to me and I smashed them to bits before his face. The cost must have been extraordinary. Nothing in my or Zink

s room could have come from Chelon.


Who do I give my uniforms to when they need cleaning?

I ask, trying to deflect the embarrassment I feel.


Abbot didn

t give you the tour?

Zink asks, grinning.


No, I only know where his den is, my den and now yours. There

s more?


Miles more, I

ll ask Abbot if I can show you around after he

s done with you. Better get back to your den or he

ll think you slept in.

I take Zink

s advice and return to my own den. Abbot is leaning next to the door waiting for me to unlock it. By the look on his face this isn

t a good morning either.


Sorry,

I mumble,

I thought you had a key.


You have the only key to your den. No one else has any reason to go inside but you.

Well that

s comforting. Perhaps our stash would be safer in my den rather than under the barn roof. If it wasn

t for a Keeper having to buzz us through the elevator.

Once inside, Abbot sinks into one of the chairs and I pull my still damp suit out of my pack.


What did you do?

he asks,

Go swimming?


I washed it,

I say with as much dignity as possible while I pull on the cold, wet suit.

Abbot lets a loud rolling laugh loose,

You didn

t! Whatcha do? Stick it in the sink or wear it while you took a shower?


I soaked it in the sink. You never told me how to clean it. After two days of your training regiment, an unpleasant aroma was wafting off the fabric,

I snap.


Always my fault, isn

t it? Well, I

m sorry. I

ve never been a mentor before. I forget you don

t know what you don

t know.


Zink said he would take me on a tour, show me where everything is.


Zink would say that.


Well, can he?

Abbot stands up,

I don

t take issue to it. But my objective for the day is to make sure you can

t walk without crying. Start running.

Chapter Eleven

 

 

When I am finally released from Abbot

s insane training regimen, I hobble my way to the elevator, wincing with every step. Zink is already holding the door for me to drag myself through.


Rough morning?


Abbot believes that he must crush my body to control my mind.

Zink chuckles,

I don

t have a hard time believing that.

He bolts when the doors open, leaving me to make my way slowly to the canteen. I start to look around for Frehn so I can lean on him. I bet it wouldn

t take too much convincing to get him to carry my broken body all the way to lunch and back. But I don

t see him on the streets leading to the canteen.

When I reach the Quad and look around for PG3456, I start to feel uneasy. There is a large crowd forming around the notice stand in front of the north residence compound. My heart sinks to my stomach as I walk slowly over, pushing my way through the people. On a poster with large letters reads:

PUNISHMENTS.

There

s nothing so unusual about that. Unless it

s a Solace, punishments are announced this way. I scan the list of Play Groups, their crimes and consequences until I come to PG3456.


PLAY GROUP 3456. ERROR- willful disobedience, direct insolence toward a Mother, disregard for the property of Chelon, misuse of facilities, and vandalizing assigned clothing. CONSEQUENCE- rack, 08:00 to 19:00.

The blood rushes from my head to my feet and back again. I feel heavy and sick. PG3456 has been chained to the rack for more than four hours while I have been safe on the hall. I race toward the Amendments Spire, hardly pausing when I knock several children over in my panicked movements.

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