Page 25 of Between Smoke and Shadow
“Oh, how delightful,” he croons. He pauses to inspect one of the girls’ photographs. “Are these the replacement options already?”
“Yes.” Sorace nods. “I apologize for my department’s error in judgment with 213. I assure you, the servant has been dealt with accordingly.”
I don’t point out that Sorace himself is responsible for selecting upper elite servants, or that he obviously knows the girldidn’t steal anything. Instead, I dig my fingers into the arms of my chair.
“I am simply relieved I caught the mistake before something worse occurred,” Malek says. He shudders, as though imagining all the terrible things he prevented. Like normalcy and peace.
“As we all are,” Sorace agrees. Then, he gives me a cruel smile. “Do not feel too terribly, Prince Harrick. Perhaps your brother can help strengthen your observational skills.”
The chair suddenly feels too flimsy, like I could crush it with my bare hands. Before I respond, Tora leans over me to peer at the parchments in Malek’s lap. Of course, he’s quick to shield the options from her view.
“Six options,” Tora says, ignoring Malek’s obvious provocation. “Is it not more narrowed than this?”
“I like this better,” Malek says. He tosses the first profile back onto the table. “I feel a bit like I’m picking a concubine.”
“Ew. Focus, Malek. No one wants to hear your vile comments,” Tora says. She falls back into her seat and grabs Malek’s discarded parchment. After a moment, she says, “This one has good experience.”
She tilts the profile toward me. I don’t look. My eyes are on the shielded windows behind Sorace and Mother. I imagine the sky is darkening, falling to night. We haven’t had a single earthquake today. This season is slowing to a close, and soon heavy floods will pour between the mountains. Savoa will become a different world, and yet, everything will be the same.
It is always the same.
“I choose this one,” Malek declares. He tosses the other profiles to the floor, even as Tora attempts to grab them. Then he snatches the one still in her hand, throwing it too. “Trust me, sister. We want 247.”
He plants his choice in the center of the table. My stomach bottoms out, becauseof course.Of course, he’s chosen her.Maybe he noticed I protected her in the event center. Or maybe I just have terrible luck.
“A criminal?” Tora asks with arched brows. “You want us to puta criminalwith Lady Viana?”
“Well of course he does,” I say, snapping forward. I pull Rune’s profile off the table, as if doing it will protect her. I glance at her information. Her picture is outdated. She’s younger here, but much the same. Small and malnourished and withdrawn.
“Harrick—”
“No,” I say, cutting Tora off. “We are not going to sit here and pick another victim for Malek to torture. His first isn’t yet dead, and we’re already scouting his next plaything.”
“Harrick!” Mother shrieks, staring at me likeI’mthe monster. As if pointing out the treachery is somehow worse than committing it.
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind having 247 as my plaything,” Malek says, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Gross,” Sorace snorts, but he smiles. “If you’d like to up your standards, I know a guy with a pet sheep.”
“Stop,” Mother demands. Sorace shrinks back in his seat, but Malek ignores her. He’s grinning at Sorace, making vulgar gestures.
“Enough!” I scream.
I don’t realize I’ve shoved from my chair or that I’ve cast magic until Malek strikes the far wall. My vines wrap around his neck, holding him a foot from the ground. He flails against my magic, hands at his throat, legs kicking uselessly against the scarlet walls. I didn’t mean to attack Malek, but I don’t release him now. I clench my fingers, tightening the vines until his face turns as crimson as his suit.
Tora yells at me, but I don’t register what she’s saying. I don’t register anything beyond the surge of power in my bones. Malekslouches against the wall, his mouth gaping, not in a scream but in a useless gasp for breath.
I don’t fight my smile.
I squeeze again, only to suddenly grow dizzy. I try for a breath, but nothing comes. Again and again, until I realize Mother has stolen my air. I’m suffocating, and it feels like I’m somehow losing consciousness faster than Malek. I clench my fingers, but they drop as I stagger on my feet. My breath returns at the same moment Malek collapses to the ground. He sags against the wall, eyes slowly returning to focus.
He snarls at me, his skin regaining its natural color.
“That is enough!” Mother shouts. And in the same breath, Tora asks, “Are you okay?”
She appears in front of me, her right hand aimed toward Malek, as if she could possibly protect us.
“Tora,move!” I scream. With a flick of my wrist, I shoot magic against her chest. It’s not vines this time, but a gust of wind from the Wilds. She tumbles over the table and across the marble, only stopping when she strikes the window shields. Mother crouches at her side and barks for Sorace to fetch the guards.
