15 - JASINA

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

M y now tired , overused, overseen—but still gorgeous—blue Choosing dress swishes as Matron Connelly grips my upper arm very tight and tugs me through the empty, quiet corridors of the Maiden Tower.

She grabbed me out of the Little Sister line once the whole lot of us were dismissed from the God's Tower stage after Haryet disappeared through the doors in a spectacular flash of blue light. All the Maidens light up when they go through, but Haryet's light never seemed to shine that bright to me.

"Don't dally, Jasina. Things are happening quickly now and we have very little time."

I hardly think it's possible to ‘dally' when she's practically dragging me. But I don't say that, of course. Connelly is not a Matron you mess with, so I don't even bother with an attitude. I just make my silk-slippered feet move a little faster as we cross a bridge enclosed with floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

It is in this moment that I realize I have never seen this bridge before and even though the brightly-lit secondary canal below us is something familiar—Tau City has dozens of them, after all—I don't recognize this one in particular. Or any of the outside buildings that I catch a glimpse of as we swiftly cross and enter a hallway on the other side.

I don't know where I am. "Where are we going?"

Connelly doesn't answer, just flashes me a sidelong stink-eye conveying annoyance.

Of all the Matrons that I had to get stuck with tonight, of course it would be her. She's mean, and big, and built like a man. At least, I think she is. It's hard to tell what her body really looks like under her ten-sizes-too-big blue tunic and cream-colored scapular apron.

She and I round a corner and come into yet another hallway, which looks like every other hallway in the Maiden Tower. But we're no longer in the Maiden Tower, of that I'm certain. We crossed a canal, so… I'm not sure where we are.

It's all very familiar though. Because everything in up-city has the same vibe. Plastered walls that curve up into an arched ceiling—bits of it peeling away in various spots, revealing the stonework underneath—and lit up by electric candles inside sconces positioned about every twenty feet along the passage.

I wouldn't say I've gotten used to the almost free-flowing spark here in up-city, even though I'm an official resident now. But it's no longer such a surprise.

However, I am, and always will be, a down-city girl.

I'm not ashamed of this, either. Even though there are no spark lights where I come from. No elevators—because there are no high towers—no fans to keep you cool during the hot, stifling day, and no vents blowing heat to cozy things up during the frigid, freezing nights.

There is just enough power down-city to run the automated irrigation and heat lamps in the fields, orchards, and greenhouses. We need the power—not ‘we' as in down-city people, but the collective ‘we,' as in the city itself. The extreme temperature changes between day and night in Tau City prohibit farming to a large degree. And the city does, after all, need to eat.

We, as in the Bell family, weren't always down-city. The Bell-family austerity is partly self-imposed and partly leftover circumstances from deeds done long ago. Punishment, if you will.

My family designed the carillon inside the clocktower. Bellmaker. That used to be our last name. We used to live up in the Tower District as well—which is a privilege that very few families get, even today. But something happened. It was hundreds of years ago now and no one in my family talks about it, so I don't have a clue as to what this something was. It's even possible that they are telling the truth when they say they don't know why we were demoted to down-city.

Matron Connelly stops in front of an arched doorway made of thick, dark wood panels. She grabs the iron knocker and bangs it three times. Then lets out a breath, clasps her hands behind her back, raises her chin, and rocks back on her heels.

The door opens and I find Auntie, staring down at me.

I lower my gaze and curtsey the way I have been programmed to do from all the Little Sister instruction over the years.

Auntie sighs and spits words at Matron Connelly. "Thank you, Matron. I'll take it from here."

Connelly responds with a deep bow, which I only catch the last of because I'm still straightening up from my curtsey. But it's intriguing because I've never seen a Matron bow to one of her peers before.

Connelly turns with a swish of her tunic and goes back the way we came.

"Come in, come in, Jasina. We don't have all night." Then Auntie steps aside and waves me forward.

The room I enter is… confusing. I stop in the center of it and tilt my head, shaking off my bewilderment and forcing my brain to make sense of what I am looking at.

But… I have no idea what I am looking at. So I simply blink.

"It's a jolt , isn't it?"

I look up her. "What is this place, Auntie?"

"It's a control room, Jasina. These are called switches." She pans a hand at an array of… I dunno. Bits? Bobs? Buttons? Lots of little knobby things positioned on a metal panel that is kind of like a table. But there is a partition with many sections of thick, curved glass coming up out the back side of it.

I look at the… switches , then up at Auntie. "What?"

She sighs. It's not a tired sigh, either. It's a ‘you're stupid' sigh. " Switches , Jasina. To power the images that show up on the televisions."

"Tell-a-whats?"

"Tele—never mind. That's not important. There is something happening right now with the new Extraction Master that we did not plan for. You will be going in. Tomorrow ."

" What ?"

"Would you please stop saying that! You sound like an imbecile. I sincerely hope you are not an imbecile, Jasina. Because if you are, let me know right now and I'll choose one of your friends to replace you."

I scoff, offended. "No. I'm not an imbecile. I'm confused, OK? I have no access to the Extraction Master. I haven't even been Chosen yet. I don't understand what is happening here."

"Because you're not listening. The god is dying. This is our chance to finish him off once and for all. Why do you think he's calling all those Maidens in?" Thankfully, she doesn't wait for me to answer, because I have no fucking clue. "His spark is weak! He uses them for their spark. He steals it and uses it. Everything you know about the world, Jasina, is a lie. All of it. There is not one thing that you've been told that is true. The Rebellion aims to shatter the illusion these lies have created. We're going to set Tau City free!"

I'm not sure she's done yet, and I don't want to interrupt—or risk sounding like an imbecile again—so I wait.

"Well? Don't you have anything to say to that?"

"Umm… well… what does all that have to do with this room?" I want to stab myself with a fork as soon as these words come out, but oddly enough, this answer seems to please my aunt.

"This room is what we're looking for. This is what we need from you."

"But… don't you have it already?" I pan my hand to the table of knobs and the tele-things.

"No. Not this room. Something like it."

"Ooooookay. I'm not sure I understand."

"This room is called a Looking Glass. And inside the Extraction Tower there is another one. This one here no longer functions. It's hundreds of years out of date. But the one in the Extraction Tower should be in prime condition. We think this Looking Glass contains a message from the previous Extraction Master to his son. We need this message. He must not see it. We have it on good authority that he hasn't seen it yet. But the more time passes, the more chances he has to find it. If you were to find it first and perhaps… get rid of it. Well, there would be a place in the history books for your name, niece."

Her stern mouth grows into something that resembles a smile. Except it's not comforting or happy. It's slightly horrifying. "Because something that important at this stage of the game would change everything." Her eyes dart back and forth, searching mine. "It would eliminate a lot of problems. It would give us… more choices. But if you fail." Her smile drops, her mouth grows stern again, and her eyes narrow down into slits. "If you fail, you will compound our problems. Jasina. You will make everything worse. And that too, will go into the history books."

I actually scoff in response. It's kinda loud too. "Auntie, this is a ridiculous task. I am nobody. Not even a Spark Maiden. How the hell am I supposed to get into the freaking Extraction Tower, find a room, find a message, and change the future? I mean… that's setting me up to fail."

She does not like my reaction or my negativity, because she growls at me. "Are we supposed to hold your hand? Are you an infant?"

"No, but?—"

"Are you incapable? Shall we call on one of your friends for this job? Which one should I choose?" She taps her forefinger to her chin as her eyes slide up, like she's trying to decide.

"I'm just saying?—"

"You're just saying what?" She looms over me like a threat. "That we can't trust you? That you have no ambition? You think this is a joke? You're on the side of the god?"

"No. I don't think that, I'm not on the god's side, and I'm very, very serious about the Rebellion and my part in it. I'm here, aren't I?"

"If you're so serious, then why are you trying to talk me out of assigning you this task? Have you switched sides?"

"What?" I'm shocked that she would even say such a thing. "Absolutely not."

Auntie presses her lips together, humming a little. "You're acting suspicious. You feign bravery. You say you want to be a rebel. But here I am presenting you with an opportunity to make history—an opportunity one of your peers would jump at, and you're trying to talk me out of it. Like you're on their side, maybe?"

This is stupid. She's not even listening to me. It's like I'm not in the room. She's only hearing what she wants to hear. Or she's baiting me, or something.

"Are you a traitor, Jasina?"

"Absolutely not. I already told you."

"What is that girl's name? The one in your group? Ceela, is it?"

"Auntie, I can do this, I swear. You don't have to call on one of my friends."

Her eyes go angry and she directs them at me. "We need weekly progress reports from you from this day forward, Jasina Bell. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And we need to know where that room is and if there's a message inside it. If you can't deliver these things by the next Choosing, you're out."