8 - FINN

CHAPTER EIGHT

W hen the god in the tower rings the bells, the bells ring until that massive black door opens and the Maiden walks through. Then, and only then, will the people be free from the constant stress of being reminded that there is a god living inside the monstrous building at the top of our city who controls our fortunes and future through the power of spark.

The Maidens are a sacrifice. We train them up to display the spark inside them to their highest possible level. Then we choose the strongest one and give her to the god in the tower so he can… use her? Eat her? Kill her? No one knows what happens to the Spark Maidens in the tower, but we do know that it's a tradeoff.

In exchange for a woman, the god provides spark, and spark is what powers our city.

We all know this on some level. Even if the truth is buried deep down in the darkest corners of our minds.

But, then again, maybe not.

The people in Tau City are good. They are honest, and hardworking, and trustworthy. So if the Extraction Committee tells them that the sacrifice is really just a Maiden called in for duty, the way a clerk or a maid might be called in to file records or clean bathrooms—neither of which are particularly desirable jobs, but it's just a job, after all—well, the good, honest, hardworking, trustworthy people of Tau City believe them.

But it's a lie and they are nothing but na?ve.

And now look, those fucking bells are ringing— again . For the eighth time in a single decade. Like that fucking god, who has an insatiable appetite for beautiful, young, spark-filled women, realizes he's getting old, his power is waning, his youth is behind him, and he wants to use up as many girls as he can on his way out.

Which is what this means, this ringing of these fucking bells.

It means that this arrangement is over.

The god is dying.

Oh, it will take some time, so I am told. It will be another decade of sacrifices. That's why my father bothered with the next generation of Little Sisters.

He will want more, Finn. More, and more, and more. And you must feed him .

These were his last words to me in a letter.

What a fucking shit show.

I mean—I scoff—is this going to be recorded in our history? Finn Scott, age twenty-eight, received a written record of Aldo's Scott's final words and they were, You must feed him .

Feed him… women .

The god—our god—eats them? Rapes them? I don't know. No one bothered to tell me that. Probably because nobody else knows either. Not a single person who was not a sacrificial Spark Maiden has ever been inside that fucking tower.

I press my fingertips to my temples and rub little circles because I have a pounding headache that comes with a sinking feeling that this headache will follow me, will be here, haunting me, until the day I die.

The day someone kills me, more likely.

Because that's how my father died. He was killed.

Murdered.

No one on the Council even bothered to come up with an alternative story. Not even one for the masses, though that will happen. Murder is not a thing here. People do die by the hands of others, but it's a misunderstanding or an accident.

At least, that's how we record them—this is what I was told today while sitting next to my father's body in the morgue.

At no point in this day was my father in the health center.

He was dead when I arrived. And whoever the murderer was, they did more than just kill him. They slashed his face. They cut off his hands. There was a white sheet covering him so I didn't have to see the details, but there was so much blood, I didn't need to see the details.

That moment is burned into my mind. I will never stop imagining his desecrated body under that bloody sheet.

It was me and the members of the Council in that morgue. And that's where they handed me the letter he left and proceeded to slowly, and patiently, explain what was happening, what would happen next, and what part I would play in it. Not to mention the consequences if I didn't fall in line.

The god is dying.

The spark is dying.

We cannot let this happen because if the god dies, we go with him, and if we go, the human race is lost forever. Therefore, we must do everything we can to prolong the god's life by feeding him more Spark Maidens. Even if that means we feed him every Little Sister in this year's Extraction.

Which was a very convenient way to leave out the fact that Clara—the love of my life and future wife—would enter that tower long before any of those Little Sisters do.

This conversation with the Council took place less than thirty minutes after I last saw Clara when we left my quarters. Less than thirty minutes earlier I was in bed with Clara, filled with a sense of satisfaction. Dreaming about our very-near future where we would be married. There would be children. We would have a home together, and raise this family, and live out calm, easy, respectable lives.

And then I learned the truth.

That none of that will ever happen.

There was never even a remote chance that it would ever happen because our god's death has been a long time coming.

Everyone on the Council knew that the god was dying. And if we don't prolong his death by propping him up with more, and more, and more Spark Maidens, the entire city—the last city on the planet after the Great Sweep took everything out more than a thousand years ago—will disappear and all of humanity will go with it.

My entire life is a lie, not because everyone on the Council knew about the dying god, including my father, but because my family was given the position of Extraction Master for one reason and one reason only—because my great-great-great-great-grandfather was willing to lie to the people of Tau City and assure them that everything is going to plan.

Lie to them. Tell them it's fine.

And every Extraction Master who came after also agreed.

Including my father.

And now… me .

I am looking out the window of my new office watching as Clara loses her grip on reality and slaps one of the Matrons across the face. Even from fifteen floors up and across the canal, I can see the spark come out of her.

There is a struggle. It lasts longer than it probably should seeing that it's six Matrons, Jeyk, and Mitchell against one lone Spark Maiden, but Clara puts up a good fight.

Eventually, though, someone jabs her with a drug—which is a pretty dear thing and I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen people given drugs in Tau City. It wouldn't be my first assumption if I wasn't able to see the cyan-blue liquid inside the syringe, but I can. It's not just glowing blue, it's pulsing. Like all the tumultuous emotions in the vicinity are giving it life.

A few moments later, Clara goes limp. Jeyk and Mitch are holding her up, but the Matrons push them aside, taking their places, then practically drag Clara back towards the Maiden Tower.

I didn't want the night to end this way. I don't want her to be alone, dealing with all that has happened. All that is still happening, the tolling bells remind me. But I am at a loss here. I don't know how to process the events of the day. And this muddled confusion goes beyond the death of my father and the ringing of the bells.

I step away from the window and turn my back to it, looking out at the office. My office, but up until a few hours ago, my father's office.

An office I didn't even know existed.

Mitch is the one who brought me up here. His father became my father's valet after Clara's father died and there wasn't a male child in her family to take his place. So Mitch knew about it because his father told him this afternoon. In fact, Mitch was probably getting his talk right about the same time I was getting mine from the Council. At any rate, his father thought it best that Mitch be the one to show it to me and help me deal with it.

So here I am. Dealing with it.

The problem is… I still don't understand what I'm looking at.

This is what I do know: The office is four stories tall and is located at the very top of the Extraction Tower. Which, from the outside, looks like a blue dome.

But from the inside—I turn back to the windows—it doesn't appear to be a dome at all. Because it's all made of glass. This makes me curious about all the other domes on the major towers. Are they all made of glass too? Do they contain an office inside?

I don't know. I don't really care.

It's very clear that my father didn't use most of the space in here. All the furnishings on the three floors below me are covered in blue sheets coated in dust.

But this floor—I turn back to look at the space around me—was used. Nothing is covered in sheets. There's a lot of dust, but Mitch said that's because my father didn't allow maids in here. Didn't allow anyone in here, not even cooks. Which makes sense from my point of view because he always came home for meals, even lunch.

The room is circular, of course, since it's part of the dome. And there's a giant stairwell that spirals up from down below and winds around a central core about twenty feet in diameter. There is a door along the wall, so obviously this central core is a room of some kind. But I don't even bother thinking about that right now. I just turn back to the window and stare down at the city. People are leaving the God's Tower event center. Almost all the spoke-y bridges that cross the canal are filled. But I'm not interested in them.

My eyes find the God's Tower. I'm interested in that . I am not quite eye-to-eye with it—the God's Tower is the tallest thing in Tau City, hands down. But from here, it's very close.

I feel a sense of… equality. Like the god in that tower and the Extraction Master in this one have some sort of understanding.

They look nothing alike.

In fact, the God's Tower doesn't look anything like the rest of the city. It is not built into the surrounding rocky hillside, for starters. There are no gentle corners and domed roofs. There are no neutral colors with blue accents. There are no golden lights shining from within.

If everything about Tau City is warm, and cozy, and inviting, then everything about the God's Tower is cold, and sharp, and repulsive.

It's black, for one. Not all of it. Some of it is a dark gray. And while there are lights coming from within, they are not a hazy gold mimicking sunshine. It's a very harsh white kind of light.

No one has ever been inside, so I can't say if it's cozy in there. But given what I can see from the dome of the Extraction Tower, I'm gonna have to say there is a one-hundred-percent chance that it's just as severe and hard on the inside as it is on the out.

It's a contradiction. It's always been in conflict with the city around it, and if I had to place a bet on that god being evil or good, just one look at the place he calls home is enough tip the scales in a certain direction.

How did I not see it?

How does everyone not see it?

Are they blind?

Are they stupid?

Willfully ignorant?

No. They are just na?ve. And trusting. And good.

And it has just never occurred to them that the people they put all their faith in are nothing but liars.

I turn again, so my body is facing the Maiden Tower, and I realize that if I knew which of the windows in that tower across the canal belonged to Clara, I could wave to her from here. Though she wouldn't be able to see me. All she would see was a blue dome. But maybe I could see her.

The Maiden Tower is an enormous building for having never housed more than ten people at a time, except during the three months of Choosing when the Little Sisters live in ground-floor dorms. But most of the auxiliary buildings are classrooms and communal centers where thousands of teenage girls learn how to be good little ladies for the monster in the tower because god forbid they enter said tower not knowing which fucking fork to use while eating their salad.

It's so ridiculous. Actually, no that's the wrong word. It's gross. The way we send those teenage girls to those classes and how we have set up Extraction Day as some kind of contest to win.

And how, if you're Chosen, but not actually Chosen—i.e. you are numbers two through ten—then we will give you celebrity status. We, the good, honest, trustworthy people of Tau City, will give you coin, and pretty dresses, and gorgeous bedrooms, and a lady's maid to make you feel beautiful every single morning. So that you get through your day without having to think too hard about how your participation in this whole Extraction event is really just your tacit consent to sacrifice one of your friends to a god who lives in the tower that runs our city through the power of spark—which might as well be magic, that's how much we understand it.

Even after a thousand years, we know so little about how the world works. It's pathetic.

But that's not the point.

The point is that we pay them off with promises so that they never have to think about how close to death they actually are. Because while they are living in a very nice tower, and while they are wearing the very finest silk dresses, and while they are both entertaining the city and being entertained—what they're really doing is waiting to be a meal for that god in the tower, should his appetite for Spark Maidens ever increase.

Of course, none of them want to be number one, but they all know someone will.

And still, nearly every twelve-year-old girl in Tau City signs up to be a Pledge to the god. And their parents allow this. They allow their little girls to volunteer to be offerings. Thousands of them, every decade. And then they spend their entire teenage life learning how to be good little sacrifices so if they actually are Chosen, they don't scream in public when they end up standing in front of that black door, watching their friend disappear. Or, heavens forbid, they themselves have to walk through and vanish, never to be seen again.

Then these Chosen few—these sacrificial Spark Maidens—they spend the next decade getting paid to shut up about the fear they swallow every night with those fancy dinners. Bribes to make sure that the Little Sisters coming up after them don't think about how they will be killed, or raped, or whatever, should that god inside that tower ring a bell and make them walk through those doors.

I was there. I was there with Clara through this whole godforsaken ritual. I went with her to sign up when she turned twelve. I walked her to the classes every weekend. I was her partner for all the Choosings, I clapped when she was Chosen, I let out a breath when I learned she was number nine, and then I comforted her that night when Imogen Gibson walked through the tower doors lit up in bright blue spark.

But it was still just a tradition .

Then I watched the creeping fear build inside her as, time after time, the insatiable god called for more, more, more. I watched the relief on her face each night after one of her friends disappeared into the tower. Because it was over now and the fear could be forgotten. It was something to be tucked away. Put into a little compartment in her head where she didn't have to think too hard about what just actually happened.

And still, it was just our custom .

How did I not see it for what it was?

How did I fail Clara Birch so spectacularly?

I don't sleep .

I don't think anyone in the whole city sleeps because those fucking bells are ringing nonstop and they will continue to ring nonstop until the eighth Maiden— say her name, at least, Finn. Say her fucking name. Give her that much respect —they will ring until Haryet Chettle walks through those massive, black doors at midnight tonight, never to be seen again.

Only then will peace return to Tau City.

It's a form of torture, I now realize, the ringing of these bells.

But it's fine that I don't sleep because the people have now been told that Aldo Scott is dead and there needs to be a funeral this morning because there is no time for one tonight.

Aside from the mysterious office in the center of the dome, the dome contains a long tufted velvet couch, a desk, and two bookshelves filled with books. Last night the couch was facing the desk, like my father used to sit behind that desk and give speeches to tiny groups of sitting people.

But I swung the couch around and pushed it closer to the window. If I wasn't gonna sleep, I might as well stare at that clanging bell tower as I think up ways to ruin this god and bring his tower down.

I hate him. I have never met him, but I hate him. And I don't care if he's the one who keeps us warm at night and cool during the day. I don't care that he's the one who runs the irrigation to the fields and the heaters in the orchards. I don't care that he takes care of us. I want nothing more than to find a way into that tower and take him out.

Which is… concerning, to say the least. I've never been a violent guy. Sure, I'll play rough in sports. And if people fuck with me, I'll fight. But I've never had the urge to kill before and now I do.

Something has changed and for some reason I associate this change inside me with the rumbling I felt yesterday afternoon just before Clara and I left my quarters. She didn't feel it, but to me, it felt like the world shifted.

Maybe it was the death of my father? Maybe I felt it?

At any rate, I feel like a different person. Like the Finn who had a nice, sweet tryst with his soulmate yesterday afternoon is gone.

I get up off the couch and walk over to the window. It's a nice sunny day, as are almost all days in Tau City. It rains every once in a while, but for the most part, it's hot. The sweltering days are as predictable as the freezing nights.

So it's fuckin' sunny and it's the morning of my father's funeral.

Hundreds of small boats are lining up in the canals to take everyone from up-city to down-city, where my father's body will be laid to rest on a small boat, set aflame, and pushed out onto the canal. And we will all watch until the little inferno that makes the air smell like death floats its way into the lake on the edge of nothing.

Typically, this happens at night and the flaming boat is all very dramatic, but again, there is no room on the city schedule tonight because we're already booked for a fucking Extraction.

So this morning we'll boat down, watch as the body is set aflame, then we'll all go home and put it behind us. Because that's what the good citizens of Tau City do. They endure.

People are already queueing up to get into the boats along the canal down below. Many of them have probably already left. Others gather in small groups. It's a holiday. All city offices are closed because of the Extraction that will happen tonight and everyone in this part of town works in a city office of some kind, but they are still standing in line at the Magic Teacup for their morning dose of comfort. They are still grabbing a pastry from the Laughing Loaf. Still carrying on like this is all normal.

How did I not see it?

How could I have been so blind?

"Hello!" Mitch's voice drifts in from downstairs.

Then Jeyk is calling. "You up there, Finn?"

I don't answer them, but I hear footsteps, so they're coming up no matter what.

I've got my back to Jeyk and Mitch when they get to the top and step away from the stairs. A few seconds later they flank me. And we stand there like that for a few moments, just looking down at the people and the boats.

When they don't say anything, I snap. " What ?"

Mitchell shrugs, his shoulder bumping mine. "We're just here for support, Finn."

"Yeah. We figured we'd keep you company on the Master boat." Jeyk nudges me with his elbow.

I sigh, then drop the tension in my shoulders as I try my best to be polite and thankful. "How did you guys even get up here? How did you get past security?"

Mitchell huffs. "We have our ways."

Jeyk scoffs. "Zander's in charge today. We slipped him a few coins."

Mitch side-eyes me. "What we did was promise that you'd keep him around as a regular. Give him a little promotion." He turns back to the view, leaving Jeyk and me at the windows. "Hope that's not a problem, because I don't like to be a liar."

Part of me is kinda pissed that Mitchell and Jeyk took it upon themselves to make a promise like that, but another part—a bigger part—is grateful that they're just acting like they normally would around me. Like I'm not the new Extraction Master. Like I don't now live in a secret… palace . Because that's what this place is. It's not an office. It's a fucking palace. And when I take all those sheets off the furniture on the lower levels, it's probably gonna be something spectacular.

"Thanks," I say, after a few moments of silence. "For… showing up."

They both just shrug.

I've been friends with these men since we were boys. As the Tau City Extraction Master my father was what amounts to a king in this town, but both Mitchell and Jeyk come from good, rich families too and they grew up in the Extraction District as well. The three of us have been nearly inseparable since we were six years old.

We all started out as engineers. That's what most young, respectable men from up-city become because engineers work with the spark in all kinds of different ways. These days Jeyk is working in the Canal District, I've been working here in the Extraction District, and Mitch was offered a stipend to study bio-spark. So he stayed in school and has been… well, I don't actually know what he's been doing. He tells us things, I just usually stop listening one or two sentences in because it makes no sense.

I turn my head to look at them. "Did you guys see Clara?"

Jeyk sighs. "Not since last night. She was a mess. Tried to cross the bridge and get over here. She even slapped a Matron."

I nod. "I saw it. Even from all the way up here, I could see the cyan-blue light."

"Yeah. She left a perfect imprint of her hand in blue spark on Matron Bell's cheek." Mitch chuckles.

"It's not funny, Mitch. That's a major demerit."

Jeyk steps in front of me, focusing my attention on him. We stand mostly eye to eye, and that's what I'm looking at when he speaks—his crazy amber eyes. "No one cared, Finn. Nothing's gonna happen about it because a few seconds later the bells rang."

"Yep. They sedated her, the bells rang, and they carried her away." Mitchell is still looking out the windows.

Jeyk turns back to the view, joining Mitch. And then it just feels inevitable that I do the same.

My father loved Clara. He never said he played favorites for her when it came to the Maidens, but he did. I know he did. He chose her as a Maiden so she could pull herself up without my help through marriage. He made her number nine so she would never have to worry about being called into that tower.

And isn't it a little bit ironic that the night he dies is the night those bells ring? Which makes it the very same night that Clara Birch becomes the next Maiden up?

Is that why they killed him? Because he refused to do something he was told to do in regards to Clara?

I'll probably never know that. Unless we find the murderer and get a confession. Which seems very unlikely after the talk the Extraction Council gave me yesterday afternoon.

Mitchell sighs loudly, then turns away from the window and starts walking back to the stairs. "Let's go, Finn."

He's gonna be my number one, I realize. Because he's not afraid of me. Not afraid of telling me no or of ordering me around when it's in my best interest. Mitch is gonna stand at this door every day, guarding me from anyone and everything, until I die.

I don't think he knows this yet, but I do.

Jeyk will be who I will turn to when I have questions. He's smart. Way smarter than me and smarter than Mitch too, even though he wasn't offered a stipend to study bio-spark. He's more than a good spark engineer, he's a great spark engineer. Jeyk knows everything about Tau City. He understands the inner workings. His mind is filled with schematics. Courses of action and predictive analyses. He is strategic, almost to a fault, and will always look me in the eyes when he gives his opinion, even when I haven't asked for it.

I'm not alone. I have friends. Good friends.

Loyal friends who will stand by me, no matter what.

It is their duty now.

But I owe them something in return. Not just loyalty, but leadership.

Leaders don't hide from their duties. They steer the ship. They guide it through rocky waters. They deliver it to safe harbors. They don't lock themselves in their office so they can be sullen and petulant.

So I go downstairs and get into the boat that will deliver us to my father's funeral pyre.