29 - FINN

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

T he sound of voices wakes me , but when I immediately sit up out of instinct, I am met with a pounding in my head the likes of which I have never experienced before. I hold it in my hands, thinking about long-ago days when drinking myself sick was a proper way to celebrate after semester exams. I smile here, despite the hangover, and push the drinking aside to recall how much easier life was back then when we were young. And I know we're not old, not even thirty yet. But this last week has aged me into another generation. Or so it feels. Maybe I'm being dramatic?

I lift my head up from my hands and open one eye. A tried-and-true method when the room starts to spin.

It's not spinning. That part of the binge happened last night, probably when I was asleep, and then?—

There is an abrupt end to whatever thought was coming next because I suddenly remember what I was doing last night.

Or was it a dream?

It has to have been a dream.

I look down, find my dick practically hanging out of my pants, and suddenly I can smell her . It wasn't a dream. There was a woman here. In my mind, I'm calling her Clara, but also in my mind is the image of a redhead.

I stand up, suffer the consequences for nearly a minute with my eyes closed as I put my dick away, and then open them as I let out a long breath, looking around. "There was a woman here, I can smell her."

"What? That's ridiculous. There was no woman up here."

I turn and find Mitchell on the other side of the room sitting at my desk furiously writing something. "What are you doing here?"

He looks up at me, scowling. "You smell. Take a shower. I'm writing your schedule for today's Little Sister bullshit. We're three days behind at this point. You can't miss it, so don't even try me right now."

I just stare at him, trying to understand the implications of his words. "What time is it?"

"It's time to take a fuckin' shower, that's what time it is."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, sighing. Annoyed.

"It's nine-thirty." Mitch doesn't even stop writing. Or look at me again. "Your first meeting is at eleven."

"What meeting?"

Now he looks up. His expression says—well, it just comes right out of his mouth so I don't really need to interpret it. "Why are you such a pain in my ass? Have you forgotten everything? It's day one, Finn. Snap the fuck out of it."

Our eyes are locked at he says this and I'm still processing when he looks away, apologizing. "Sorry. I… that was too soon and… thoughtless of me. I'm just trying to keep going here, Finn. We're behind with the Little Sisters and the schedule is a complete mess. But there's no way to skip this day. You have to meet with each one individually and give them initial scores. The people are… well, they're handling all this change about as well as you are. Which means they're not handling it. There was a mob of people outside when I came back this morning."

"What? A mob? Why? What did they want?"

"They want to talk to you about last night and how you acted. They want to know how you're gonna punish Gemna for talking back. Traditions are important in Tau City and last night was…" He shakes his head. "Fuck, who am I kidding? Tradition went awry several years back now. It's just they didn't notice. Well, after last night, they've taken notice."

I walk over to the desk and pour myself a glass of water from a pitcher, then guzzle it down before continuing the conversation. "Who was in this mob?"

"All of the Council. The mayor. A bunch of wives. And a few scholars from the College of Philosophy and Logic."

"The War College? Why?"

"Because… well, everyone thinks the god is pissed off at us. And it's the duty of the War College to predict irrational behaviors."

"Of the god?"

"Who else?"

"Did they predict last night?"

Mitchell laughs. "What do you think?"

"I think they got it wrong. I think they got it all wrong. I think everyone got it wrong."

I'm looking at Mitch when these words come out so I watch his expression change into deep worry before my eyes. "You said something last night. Something you didn't finish."

"Well"—I chuckle and rub my forehead—"I'm sure I said a lot last night."

"This was about the Council. And the Choosing. And how… nothing matters. What did you mean by that?"

Shit. How drunk was I? Come on, Finn, you were wasted. You thought you were with a woman last night when really all you were doing is jerking off like a freak. There was no woman up here. Just me and my hand. I scoff, then walk over to the windows and draw in a deep breath when I look down and see all the Little Sisters milling about along the canal. They will line up soon so I when I leave my tower I can get a good long look at them.

Inspection day. It's like a meet and greet. But the whole city is invited to gawk. They can't ask them any questions—well, I guess they could, but the girls are not allowed to answer. It's literally just an inspection day. They are not wearing gowns, but the Little Sister uniform, which is the same as a Matron uniform—blue tunic and cream scapular apron—it just looks a thousand times better on the young women than it does on the old.

One would not think that a tunic and apron could be tantalizing, but it is.

Mitch comes over to the window and looks down, nodding his head in appreciation. "They look like a bunch of virgins waiting to be fucked, don't they?"

I laugh as I turn to look at Mitch. "What are you talking about?"

"Them. You know. They're all young, and tight, and… just... I'd fuck them all. At once, if I had the chance."

I scoff. He's such a fucking dog. But as I look at them, I see Clara. I remember her inspection day and I am a thousand percent sure that my father and his valet—who was Clara's father—were not up here talking about fucking these girls. "Knock it off, will ya? Have some respect."

"Well, excuse me, Extraction Master. I was stating the obvious."

I will hate you 'till the end of time . That's the last thing Clara ever said to me. And she will, too. I'm certain of it. Even if she's dead right now, she will hate me forever. Because what I did to her last night was unforgiveable.

Mitch must sense the mood change because he grabs my upper arm and turns me around. "Come on. Go shower. Let's try and be on time. The Council—everyone—they're all uneasy. And uneasiness typically translates into anger. We can avoid that by sticking to the schedule as much as possible. I've eliminated day two and day three of the Little Sister schedule because they really didn't have anything to do with you. It was mostly stupid contests between the girls for rights to fabrics and… whatever sewing bullshit they need to make their next gown. But day four—which is tomorrow—also includes a minor Choosing. You need to have dinner with one of them. I've made you a list."

He leaves me to grab the paper he was writing on earlier and bring it back. "This is my ranking of the girls with a little note next to their names. And I put a star next to the ones I'd invite to dinner tomorrow night, if it were my choice."

When I look at him, he's grinning wildly. So I interpret this to mean that these are the ones he'd like to bed, given the chance.

I take the paper and glance down at it, then hand it back. "Thanks, Mitch. Seriously. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd fail miserably." Then he claps me on the back. "Go. Shower. You really do smell. I'll be downstairs handling things. All your notes will be waiting for you in the Maiden Tower main hall."

He retreats without further comment. But this is when I remember that I do actually smell a woman's scent up here. "Hey?"

"What?" Mitch stops on the stairs to look at me.

"Did you… did you send a woman up here for me last night?"

"No. You were a drunken dick. You made me kick everyone out. I kept a guard outside though. Why?"

"Nothing. Never mind. I was just… missing Clara, I guess."

He nods sympathetically, then resumes his retreat.

I go down one level as well because that's where my new bedroom is, and then I take a long hot shower. Jerking off to the image of a sexy redhead as I stand under the water.

"Are you nervous?" Mitch and I are riding the elevator down to the ground level for the mandatory meet and greet. "Don't be nervous. Trust me, these girls are so nervous, they probably all wanna throw up right now." He leans in to straighten my Extraction Master stole.

It's light blue and the ends are trimmed in gold fringe. It's part of the Tau City official dress uniform. Everyone on the Council, plus the mayor and I, all wear them for formal functions. Though the Extraction Master has the only blue one, I guess because it matches the Little Sisters and they are, technically, under my control.

I swat Mitch's hands away. "I'm not nervous. Why the hell would I be nervous? I'm the one in charge."

"I know. But some of them are really fuckin' hot, friend. If you play your cards right—and don't Choose them, of course"—he points at me, winking—"you could keep one. Ya know?"

"They're like ten years younger than me. I don't want a fuckin' Little Sister. I wanted…" I don't finish. I don't need to.

"You know I'm not serious, right?"

I look at Mitch, doubt written all over my face.

"I'm just trying to take your mind off things, that's all."

"Whatever. Where's Jeyk?"

"Babysitting Gemna. She's a mess, man. It's been non-stop sobbing since last night. I finally ordered a Matron to sedate her. So Jeyk is making sure she doesn't like… fall asleep and never wake up. That would go over great."

I shoot him a look.

He shrugs with his shoulders. "What?"

"You're so cold these days."

"I'm not cold. I'm… practical."

"It's the same thing."

"Yeah, well, my practicality will save your ass one day, mark my words."

"Whatever. I should go talk to Gemna."

Mitch puts up a hand. "Nope. I would table that for now. For whatever reason, she's blaming everything on you."

I scoff. "That's not fair."

"We all know it's not fair. She knows it's not fair. But she's scared. And sad. And scared, sad people have justified stranger things than this. Let Jeyk handle her. At least for a little while. I'll make sure he keeps me up to date each night and if there's anything you need to know, I'll fill you in."

The elevator doors open and before us, on the other side of the lobby glass, are two lines of beautiful young women. All waiting for me to inspect them.

Mitch squeezes my shoulder. "Concentrate on them." He nods his head to the girls. "They're the nicest distraction you're gonna get. That's for sure."

I shrug his hand off me, straighten the stole, and take a deep breath and walk forward. A guard opens the doors and Mitch hangs behind as I step out to the fanfare of music. A tune that used to make me feel proud to be a Tauian, but now only sounds sad.

I was here—behind my father the way Mitch is behind me—when Clara stood on one side of the canal bridge for her inspection. I remember winking at her. She was stoic. Took it all so seriously. But her eyes did flash and meet mine after that wink.

In this time—a time where Clara does not exist—I don't wink at anyone. I don't even look at them. I cross the canal and enter the Maiden Tower where I am directed to the main hall where all the Little Sisters will sit for first brunch. I will sit at the head of the room, alone, so that one by one they can all be called up for a short interview. It's a blink of an eye for them—just one or two minutes—but for me, it will take the whole day.

The room has been prepared in the traditional blue and cream colors of the Little Sisters and all the tables set for fine dining. Crystal water glasses, and gleaming silverware, and delicate glass plates spun from the purest sands outside the city walls.

I sit down at my table and, since I'm the only one in the room aside from staff, Mitchell takes the Little Sister chair across from me. I meet his gaze and find questions. "What?" I'm already irritated about having to be here, so this comes out in my tone.

"What did the Council tell you?"

"What?"

"Last night you let something slip. I knew they told you something because your attitude took a turn that day, friend."

"My father was murdered. Of course my attitude took a turn."

"But that's not everything. You're hiding something from me. How can I protect you if you're keeping secrets?"

I don't like that he's pressuring me like this. But if our roles were reversed, I'd be nagging him the same way to get his secrets. And anyway, why should I keep the Council's secret? It's not like they have a plan to stop the god from dying.

"They said…" I take deep breath. "They told me that none of this matters because the god is dying and Tau City is gonna go with it."

Mitchell's face doesn't even twist.

"You knew." I don't even bother asking it as a question.

"I knew."

"Were you gonna tell me?"

"Probably. But it wouldn't do any good."

"Do you at least know why he's dying?"

Mitchell lets out a long sigh. "Honestly, Finn, I was hoping you could tell me. I was hoping you'd found some kind of… communication, or something, from your father."

"Why would I find something like that? It's not like he knew he was gonna be murdered."

"Yeah. Right. But most people leave instructions, ya know?"

"He did. You read the Extraction Manual written in his hand to me just two days ago. So what are you really looking for?"

But before he can answer me the massive double doors to the main hall open and we both glance in that direction as the Little Sisters begin to file through in neat lines.

Mitch looks back at me, standing up. "We'll talk later, but I do know more." He doesn't wait for me to say anything back, just turns and walks away, leaving me alone at the head of the room. When I look out at the Little Sisters every pair of eyes is on me.

The Matrons are in charge of this event so I don't really have to do anything. Just sit here, stand when the girls approach, then sit down and have a quick chat. Mitch has left the notes for me, so I glance down and read them off. What's your name? Why are you here? What would you do if you were Chosen as number one? It's all very simple. It's just gonna take all day because there are seventy-five girls here.

In a little over two weeks' time I will eliminate twenty-five of them. Three weeks after that, twenty-five more. Then, at the final Choosing three weeks later, we will have our top ten. Number one is chosen on the actual Extraction Day.

So they don't have time to panic, I guess.

Little Sisters come up to the table one by one. All bright-eyed and pretty, and wearing those tight tunics and scapular aprons that should cover up their curves, but only end up making them even more alluring.

I try to focus on each of them. Their first meeting with me is a big deal, after all. I am the man in charge of their futures. Do they still think that this is a good thing? That being a Spark Maiden is the pinnacle of success for a young, beautiful, social-climbing woman? Is it still a chance to change one's fortune and future, maybe for generations?

Well, I hate to break it to you ladies, but you're the end of an era, not the beginning. None of you have a future.

"Extraction Master?"

"Hmm?" I look back at the brown-eyed teenager sitting across from me. She's probably the youngest of the bunch, having only just turned eighteen the day before the deadline. Barely squeaking in by the width of a hair.

"Am I… boring you?"

"Of course not. I heard everything you said. Your story of perseverance through the written tests was"—I force myself to say the words—"simply inspiring." Then I smile big at her and stand up. Which is a signal for her to leave now.

She is unable to hide her disappointment. But she does get to her feet when a footman appears behind her to pull out her chair and she murmurs out a less-than-polite, "Thank you," as she wanders off.

The Little Sisters are not allowed to line up—they must stay in their seats until it's their turn—so I have no idea how far into this ordeal I am. All I know is that it's not over because yet another young woman stands up from a table and turns in my direction.

She is a redhead. Little bits on the side are braided and tied back to reveal her pale, heart-shaped face, but the rest is left to fall down her back like a cape, nearly to her waist.

Her blue eyes are locked on mine and… what is that emotion flashing across them as she makes her way up the center aisle of the room towards me? Recognition?

For a moment I lose my breath. I can't think. I can't even move. Because I know her.

She comes up to the table, eyes cast down, and curtseys. "Extraction Master." It's an overly long curtsey. Like a full two seconds too long. But I don't care that her etiquette is imperfect—even though I should because this is the whole point of the today's fucking meeting—I'm just glad for these extra seconds so I can stare at her, then pull myself together before those eyes find mine again.

"Please." I pan my hand to the chair behind her as the footman approaches. "Sit."

She does and I follow, finally interested in what is happening around me. Because this is the girl from my dream. The girl I thought was Clara.

Well, no. That's not true. I knew she wasn't Clara, I just didn't care.

I see her, in my mind's eye, bent over the back of the couch. Her nightgown pushed up almost to her neck—exposing her round ass and creamy, white thighs.

We stare at each other, wasting some of the precious few moments allotted for this meeting. Then I snap out of it. Because this girl, she was in my private quarters last night.

And she knows I remember her, because she looks terrified.

I lean back in my chair, slouching a little. "Do you have a name?"

"Oh… I… sorry." She blows out a breath, unable to meet my gaze now. "Jasina. Jasina Bell."

"Bell?" My gaze darts to the Matrons hovering all over the place. "Isn't there a Matron Bell?" She looks up at me, mouth opening, ready to answer, when I put up a hand. "Never mind. I don't even care. You were in my quarters last night." My eyes narrow down in the ensuing silence, and I glare at her, daring her to lie.

"So what?" Her chin is tipped up in defiance. And she is glaring right back at me.

I scoff. " So what ? I could have you kicked out, you know."

She shrugs. "So do it." I'm just about to snap my fingers for the footman when she leans in and says, "But if you do, then I won't be able to come back tonight and let you have your way with me again."

The guffaw comes out of my mouth before I can stop it, drawing the attention of the entire room. Especially the Matrons. They start rushing towards my table, but I put up a hand and dismiss them. They are not pleased about this, or my outburst, but what can they do? I'm the fucking Extraction Master. I might as well be the god in that stupid tower, that's how much power I have around here.

I look Jasina Bell straight in her blue eyes. "You brazen little whore."

"I'm not a whore."

"No? Then why the hell were you bent over my couch last night?"

"Because you put me there."

I laugh again. Not as loud this time. "Fair, I guess. But how did you get there?"

I wait for the lie. Fully expect a lie. Because there's something going on with this girl. Something secret. Something dangerous, maybe. Like… was she sent to seduce me? Kill me? Both?

But she doesn't lie. Because the most fantastical words come spilling right out of her mouth. "There's a secret passage on the top level of your tower. On the inside, the door looks like a bookcase. But it opens up."

"And where does this passage lead?"

"To the Little Sister dorms."

"How did you find it?"

"I guessed. I mean, it was a strange door in a strange part of the dorm. It looked out of place. So I opened it and found you at the other end of a long walk and a long climb."

"Keep going."

"So I decided to enter and take a look around."

"Did you find anything interesting?"

"Well." She smiles at me, but it's an uncertain one. "I found you. If that counts."

"Did you like what I did to you?"

She bites her lip, but doesn't answer.

"Well?"

"Excuse me?" The girl and I break eye contact and look up to find a Matron has approached my table.

I'm annoyed. I was very much interested in hearing Jasina's opinions on what we did last night. Eagerly anticipating her squirming. "Yes?" My tone is curt and was in no way meant to hide my anger. "What is it, Matron?"

"Is there a problem here?" The weird thing is, the Matron is looking at Jasina. Not me.

"Why would there be a problem?" I am, however, the one who answers.

The Matron drags her poisoned gaze away from Jasina and directs it where it should've been all along. Is that… contempt I see in those eyes? And actually, do they have the same eyes?

"What is your name?" I ask the old woman.

She presses her lips together and huffs air through her nose. "Matron Bell."

"Bell?" I smile at the creamy-thighed girl across the table from me, raising my eyebrows. "As in Jasina Bell?"

"My niece."

"Your aunt?"

Jasina shrugs, but doesn't say anything.

"Well, Auntie Bell, I hate to disappoint you, but things are just fine."

Matron Bell, however, flat-out ignores me. "Come along, Jasina. Your time is up."

I stand up, point at Mitchell—who is watching this whole exchange, since that's his job—and he comes over. "What's up?"

"I'm not done here." I nod my head towards Jasina. "Can you escort Matron Bell a suitable distance away so this Little Sister and I might finish our conversation?"

Mitch's eyes are dancing, his brows up. He really wants to ask me what the fuck is happening here, but deep down, he's a professional. So he doesn't. Instead, he bows to me. "Yes, Extraction Master." Then he turns to the Matron, grabs her hand, and hooks it on his arm as he turns her around. "Have I ever told you the story of how I became the Extraction Master's valet, Matron Bell?"

I wait until he's a good distance down the center aisle—which is plenty of time for Matron Bell to shoot me not one, but two death glares—before sitting back down at the table.

"Now, where were we?" I look at Jasina. "You were in my quarters."

She stares right back at me. "Your fingers were between my legs."

Ohhh. She wants to play, does she? "You found a secret passage."

"You have a Looking Glass."

My eyes narrow. "What do you know about it?"

She shrugs up one shoulder. "Nothing. Not really. I was shown something similar in the Matron Tower. But it's… well, completely different, actually."

"You're a spy."

"I'm the Rebellion."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Why haven't you told your bodyguard about it?"

"I asked you first."

"Fine." She draws in a deep breath. "Because I don't think you want to do this. I think, given the chance, you'd be on our side. I think you regret—deeply—the fact that you sent Clara into that tower. And I think, if you had a choice, you would not be Extraction Master."

"So you think I'll take your side?"

She huffs. "Which side would that be?"

"You tell me. You're the rebel."

She and I just stare at each other again. I'm interested in this conversation. I want to keep it going. But at the same time, I want to think about what happened last night. It's not all clear in my head—probably because I was drunk. But I think I liked it. I think she liked it too.

Finally, she says. "I don't know which side that is."

"Don't you think you should figure that out before you make any big moves?"

"I want to see your Looking Glass."

I nod my head towards her aunt. "So you can report back to her?"

"Well…" Jasina falters. "That was the original plan. But it doesn't have to be the only plan. I mean." She sighs. "What I really want is to make a difference. And I want people to remember that I made this difference. I want to be in the history books." She shrugs. Like that's all there is to it. She wants to be famous.

"Why would I tell you anything? Especially about that. I mean, I don't know what this silly Rebellion is all about, but even I can see the obvious. You don't like the status quo? Let me guess. You're one of the down-city girls."

"Yes and yes." She leans in. "But you can't tell me you're satisfied, either. You killed the woman you loved. For what? For a god who doesn't exist?"

"How do you know she's dead?"

"How do you know she's not?"

"What makes you think the tower god doesn't exist?"

"What makes you think he does?"

"Because he's dying. And if he wasn't real, he wouldn't be dying."

"So it's true."

"I don't know. Is it true?"

She sighs and leans back in her chair, nearly slouching. Which is very unbecoming of a Little Sister. "I don't know either."

"You want to see the room?"

"Yes."

"Why should I show it to you? You'll just feed all my hard-earned information to your spinster aunt over there."

"What if I didn't?"

"Come on, Jasina. Why wouldn't you? This whole conversation is just a ploy, isn't it?"

"A ploy?"

"Yeah. So I'll give you information. You came to my quarters, in the night, of course. And wearing that see-through nightgown, of course, of course. So I would…" I smirk and shrug up one shoulder.

She fills in the blank with a straight face. "So you would… what? Finger me and get me off?"

"Wow."

"What? I thought you liked the dirty talk? You were certainly candid last night."

"I thought you were Clara."

"You did not. You wished , maybe." Jasina tips her chin up. "But you knew I wasn't Clara and you didn't care."

"So?"

"So I told you something real. I told you pretty much everything I know, actually."

"How loyal are you?"

"To you?" She scoffs.

"To your cause."

"Well, I want things to change."

"What if I told you that you didn't have to do anything to make things change because change is coming whether we want it or not?"

She squints at me. "Is that what you're telling me? The god is dying and everything is about to change?"

"Yep. That's what I'm telling you. And no one wins, Jasina. The game is over." I stand up. "And now, so is this meeting."

The footman has rushed over and is hurriedly pulling out Jasina's chair so she has to stand as well. She does her curtsey and then, a moment later, she's gone and the next girl is sitting down across from me.