Chapter 1

Chapter One

"I need to cut your hair before you leave tomorrow, or the other boys will make fun of you. You don't want that, do you?" Mother's voice snapped at me, and my spoon clattered against my plate as I ignored the cold peas. She grabbed a strand of my hair, much longer than it normally was, and gave it a firm tug.

"Ouch! Mother!"

Mother liked to keep my hair shaved close to my head, but we hadn't left our apartment in weeks. Or was it months? I wasn't sure why. Sometimes Mother was sad and didn't get out of bed. Other times she was so angry she couldn't stand to look at me. I didn't understand the ‘why' of that either. Specifically, the looking at me part, and not the being mad part. Usually it wasn't too hard to figure out what was making her mad, or anxious, or upset.

Not that I needed to leave. The apartments were cozy, and crammed with books and candles and little figurines that had been gifts from the queen. We had one large window that was big enough to let light in, but it was too high for me to gaze out of it properly.

I turned my attention back to my mother. I'd gotten pretty good at reading her, but it was hard to know what to do at times. Usually, she was a great mother; reading to me from the many books on her shelves, and telling stories—such funny stories—of her and the queen when they were young. It was hard to imagine the stoic queen I knew sliding down a banister or stealing from the kitchens, but Mother wouldn't lie about that.

Well, unless like everything else, they were just stories to entertain me.

I shook my head, curling my fingers around my spoon. I didn't see what the problem was; my hair was more fun when it was long—it curled and bounced, and I liked how it felt when I quickly turned my head from side to side. A sudden thought occurred to me.

"Is long hair only for girls?" I asked, frowning. If it was, I could understand her anger. She wouldn't want anyone to think I was a girl , after all. That would be confusing. Then they might reap me and make me compete for a noble boy's hand! How silly.

Mother's brow furrowed. "No … it's not that. It's just … Trust me."

Her eyes flicked to my hair, lips pinching into a thin line.

"You are twelve now. Far older than you should be before reaping. I simply want to ensure you make a good impression. If you don't make a good impression, you'll be stuck being a Fireguard with all the mud boys. Is that what you want?"

I shook my head vehemently. According to my mother's stories, mud boys were little better than wild animals. Though being a Fireguard sounded fun, there was no honor in it. That was why my mother scolded me when I didn't read well enough, or withheld dinner when my work wasn't finished. I had to compete with the other boys, and be better.

Because I was better.

"You aren't some dirty mud boy," mother always said. She'd even make me repeat it. "I'm not some dirty mud boy."

Mother was one of the queen's ladies, which allowed us to live in the castle. Though these days, she didn't attend the queen much. It seemed strange, but she always got angry when I asked about it. Her fear and anger made sense: she wanted the best possible outcome for my future. She wanted me to be successful. I agreed with all of those things.

"Did you finish those mathematics? The wine the servants brought up earlier gave me a headache; must be of a stronger quality coming from the queen's stores. I shall lay down after dinner, then afterwards look it over, then see about cutting this mop. They will come for you first thing in the morning for the reaping."

Tomorrow was my reaping: the day when I'd officially enter training with the other boys my age. Usually it happens every five years, but Mother said there's been a terrible flux that spread throughout the kingdom and made the reaping too dangerous, delaying it until now. All the eligible boys my age and younger would gather and begin our new lives in our dormitories. I'd still be able to visit my mother, of course, like most of the noble boys could.

Her nose wrinkled in disgust at my black curls.

I nodded, returning to my dinner with a skeptic eye. I hated fish. But it was better than nothing. Mud boys had nothing.

We returned to our dinner. I tracked the first glass of wine she had, then the second. She only made it halfway through the second before frowning at it, licking her lips and wiping them with her napkin. Why did she drink more of it if the first few glasses gave her a headache?

Adults did things that made no sense.

"Little dragon, I'm not feeling well tonight. I will cut your hair tomorrow. First thing, yes?"

Normally I liked my nickname. Dragons were fierce and strong, even though the one that plagued our kingdom kept everyone inside the stone walls and dragonsbane roof. But I saw the nickname for what it was; a distraction.

"Mother, we won't have time tomorrow! I want to get up early to ensure I'm ready. Can't you cut it now?"

She stumbled from the table toward her bedroom as if she didn't hear me, her words slurring and her heels catching on the hem of her dress.

"Are you all right?" I asked carefully, unsure of what was going on.

Normally Mother had three glasses of wine and handled it fine. What was going on? Perhaps she was sick.

I followed behind her, my feet dragging on the worn rug, catching in the grooves in the wood. She made it into her private chamber, not bothering to close the door. Her hand wrapped around the large wooden post, then slipped as she fell onto the bed, fully clothed.

The scissors lay on the table beside her bed. Maybe I could cut my hair myself? Mother had gone on and on about how important appearances were. Had she forgotten that tomorrow was the big day? I could probably do it. The steel was cold in my fingers as I picked up the scissors and held them out.

"Mother? It will only take a few minutes. Then you can sleep."

I tugged at her sleeve, the smooth satin slipping through my fingers. I didn't understand. Why go on and on about how important tomorrow was only to just … go to sleep?

The scissors fell back to the nightstand, the blades clattering noisily against the wooden top. Mother's eyes cracked open, red and bloodshot. She drew in a shaky, rattling breath.

That wasn't normal. That wasn't right.

"Mother? I—"

Her hand came up, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen over my eyes. Her fingers lingered on my cheek, caressing it softly. I closed my eyes, wanting the moment to last forever. Mother was always so anxious, and so afraid. The moments we could just … be … were far and few between.

"You look so much like him." She breathed the words out so quietly that I had to lean in against her soft cheek to hear. "He would be proud of you."

Who was he? The father she never talked about?

Torn between needing a haircut and learning about the man I was forbidden to ask about, I didn't know what to do. Her eyes closed and her breathing slowed, making the decision for me.

I would simply let my hair be. Didn't the king have shaggy hair down to his shoulders? I would be fine. Mother was simply … mothering.

I turned on my heel and put myself to bed.

* * *

"Mother. It is morning!"

I was in my best tunic and breeches, practically bouncing on my feet at her door. Pushing it open, a sickly sweet scent had me wrinkle my nose.

"Mother?"

She hadn't moved from her spot in the bed, on top of the covers and still in her evening gown. Her face was deathly pale and sickly gray, turned away from me.

"Mother, I—"

KNOCK KNOCK.

Oh no. My reaping!

I glanced at my mother's motionless form and the door to our apartment. I ran forward, quietly sliding my mother's hand mirror out of its drawer in our drawing room and peeking into the gilded frame with its sleek, polished surface. It was important that I looked my best to impress my instructors, even if mother was still abed. Maybe one day I'd impress them enough that I'd travel beyond the palace. Maybe I'd even get a glimpse of the dragon that lived above the dome!

My black hair hung in tiny ringlets around my head, tight curls I thought looked fun. It was down to my shoulders, but I didn't think it made me look like a girl . Girl hair was much longer. My dark eyes matched my dark hair, and I grinned at my reflection. My tunic was green and my breeches black, and my boots brand new and shining. I looked good .

I was ready.

Unlatching the door, my excitement and smile faded away as a brooding noble stood over me, lips pursed and looking like he'd just sucked on a raw pergainsa berry. His hair was a lighter shade of brown than mine and down to his shoulders, his beard was tied at the bottom with a leather tie.

His eyes widened at seeing me, his heavy eyebrows furrowing and forming a severe line between his eyes.

"Oh," he managed. "That's right. I'd forgotten about your … circumstances."

I glanced down at my tunic, wondering if I had spilled some juice on it between the time I'd checked myself in the mirror and now. Why else would he be looking at me as though he smelled spoiled milk?

"I am Lord Vession. Come," he intoned, already turning and taking a step back down the hall.

"My mother …" I began, then trailed off when I realized he either didn't hear me, or didn't care.

And Mother had always stressed the importance of obeying the instructors, and doing everything I could to impress them. Did I leave my mother and just … go with him? Mother often stayed abed for days at a time … sometimes even a week. It wasn't my fault the new wine from the queen made her sick … it was her fault for drinking it!

Giving her motionless form in bed one last look, I debated whether to say something to Lord Vession about her, or make some sort of excuse.

My mother's harsh, pinched face filled my mind.

Stop slouching. What will your instructors think?

No, NO! Do it again! Your instructors will think you're stupid!

My shoulders stiffened. Mother was the one missing out; it wasn't my fault she drank too much last night. I would simply have to tell her all about it later; it would give us something to talk about, at least. I knew she loved me; her harshness was because she wanted me to succeed, and to be prepared for my reaping.

"Come, boy."

Listen to your instructors.

My spine straightened as I closed the door behind me and followed him down the hall toward my new life. I wouldn't fail, Mother.

I wouldn't.

"Lord Vession, I—"

"Be quiet. I will give you the rules with the rest of the boys. Do you need them now?"

My mouth opened to assure him I didn't, but that would break the rule about being quiet, wouldn't it? Mutely, I shook my head.

Vession smirked, his gaze lingering over my head. "Hmm. More intelligent than most of them. The others will arrive soon."

The palace was connected to the place of learning where all the reaped boys went. It was a long way for my legs though, and difficult to keep up with Lord Vession's efficient strides. I didn't dare complain; I just kept moving.

Portraits of dead kings and queens winked past me as we moved, marble statues standing as regal guardians in between them in little alcoves. I'd never been allowed to explore the palace. Mother had mostly kept me in our apartments for my safety.

I wasn't sure from what. Maybe today I will learn?

Panting and a little out of breath, I rejoiced when Lord Vession finally came to a stop after what felt like miles of unending hallway and portraits. In front of us stood a large archway with words carved in a strange script I didn't understand.

"Through these doors, you will cease to be who you are and become who you are destined to be, and what will be deemed useful to the crown. Do you understand?"

He almost got me. My lips parted, but my survival instincts kicked in at the last minute and I merely nodded.

Lord Vession rewarded me with another one of his lopsided smirks, and together we walked underneath the archway, and towards the rest of my life.

* * *

The archway was dark beyond it, leading down stone steps. I hadn't expected the first room I saw to be bathing chambers, but as we emerged into a large, open air room with vaulted ceilings and large tubs, it could hardly be anything else. Lord Vession rushed me through it, shaking his head. Fireguards lingered here and there, carrying lumpy sacks out of the room on their shoulders. Primas clucked their tongues as they mopped away puddles and scrubbed the tubs clean.

"The mud boys and girls are filthy when they get here. Obviously, you don't need such attentions."

My spine straightened at that, my chin lifting high into the air. I had much to be proud of, even if I was from one of the higher order of Nobles. I knew advanced mathematics, studied literature, and certainly knew how to bathe on my own, without a prima holding my hand or a Fireguard forcing me into the water.

Just how savage were mud boys?

"Through here. It will be a while still while the medication examinations take place and everything that needs to be done to make them presentable. The other noble boys have arrived, however. You may mingle."

As we left the bathing chamber behind, we entered a large antechamber with a wide open space, and tables with benches. Two of the tables were filled by boys my age, and dressed similarly to me. My heart raced just seeing them—finally, I'd be able to make friends and have someone to talk to other than my mother!

"Sit."

I popped down on the edge of the bench at Vession's urging, next to a blonde-haired boy who stared at me with wide eyes.

"That is all the noble boys to be reaped," Lord Vession stated, drawing everyone's attention to him. I was glad; the boy staring at me made me feel uncomfortable. Was I not dressed enough like him? Was there something on my face? I gave it a rub with the back of my hand just to make sure.

"The other boys will join soon. Before they get here, let us go over some expectations."

He paused, eyeing each of us individually.

"You are the best the Seat offers. We expect you to excel at your studies while you are here, so we may find the best way for you to serve the crown. Watch each other's backs and be careful. The competition will be extremely fierce, but if you play your cards right, you can also make friends who will be closer than any family you've left behind."

Most of the boys looked puzzled at this, but I understood Lord Vession immediately. I craved the deep connection I'd read about in the storybooks I'd secretly read at night, squirreled away under the textbooks about sciences and history, where Mother couldn't see them. In my stories, men would die for their principles, and women gave their lives for their children, and friends risked it all for each other.

I loved my mother, but she was distant and angry most of the time. I never figured out what she was afraid of. I hoped all women weren't as fearful. The ones in my stories all were, though, so I wasn't hopeful.

"I must leave to check on the progress of the others," Lord Vession finished. "You may talk quietly among yourselves, but stay in your seats."

Our eyes followed him out the door, and we were all silent and still for a further five more seconds. Then the blonde boy next to me whipped around, grabbing at my hair.

"It's so dark. My mama said only mud boys have dark hair."

Anger raced through my body like dragon fire as I twisted away from him. "That isn't—"

My mouth slammed shut as my eyes darted from boy to boy, realizing something I should have noticed immediately. Most were blonde, though some had dark blonde and brown hair, while three of them had red hair, and the rest had a very light brown color.

No one had black hair like me.

"Well?" the boy needled, glaring at me.

I couldn't refute his claim. Not 100 percent. I didn't know what mud boys looked like. What if I did look like them? I'd have to stick to what I knew.

"I have lived in the palace my whole life. My mother is one of the queen's favorites," I protested.

One of the red heads a few seats down and across from me snorted. "I've never seen you. Not at any of the balls and parties. And who is your mother? My mother is also one of the queen's ladies and I'm friends with all of them and their sons. I've never met you ."

The other boys nodded and glanced at me, all united in their sudden distrust and wariness. Nothing brought strangers together faster than a common, shared point of contention or anger.

My confusion and horror warred with embarrassment. The others had all grown up going to parties and balls? And playing together?

That wasn't … that wasn't fair!

I'd spent all twelve of my years in my apartment with my mother, diligently working on my studies, always praying, always hoping that one day it would finally be enough, and I'd be allowed out to court, and allowed to join the other boys! Then I'd finally get to see the dragon.

What had I done so wrong?

For one moment, I considered crumpling. My lower lip trembled, hot tears burned against my eyes, and my muscles clenched.

No.

I was smart. I was strong. I was not going back to rot in that tiny apartment. That meant I had to be bold.

I had done nothing wrong. Which meant …

My mouth went dry. Oh no . What if the boy was right? What if I did look like a mud boy?

We'd find out soon, wouldn't we?

I gripped the edge of the bench with my fingers, my knuckles turning white. Tension hung thick in the air as the other boys eyed me with open distrust. What could I say to them? Even though I was a noble, I hadn't grown up with them. I'd been locked in our apartments for twelve years. And what for?

"Follow me."

Relief coursed through me as Lord Vession's voice came from the end of the hall, leading a squadron of Fireguards. In the middle of them marched the mud boys.

My stomach flipped, and my heart sank down to my feet. Then it crashed through the floor at seeing mud boys for the first time.

They all had black hair and dark eyes, like me.

Every.

Single.

One.

I licked my dry lips. Surely there was some kind of mistake or … something! I wasn't a mud boy. I was a noble. I was—

"Sit, or they will make you."

They were all damp, with hair cut to a uniform length just past their ears. Rough hemp robes adorned their bodies, and their feet were bare. Yet it was their eyes that held me most. Some held black fire as they gazed hatefully at the Fireguards around them and us. Others had eyes that were nothing but black chasms of hopelessness and defeat.

What had they seen? Where had they been? Did the dragon hunt them since they were outside the protection of the castle? I'd read that the great dragonsbane dome covered our entire kingdom. Well, most of it. Parts of the castle stuck out from it. But the mud quarter (where they were all from) were behind the city's walls and covered by the dome. Why then did these boys look as though they had suffered?

They were skin and bones; all knobby knees and sharp elbows.

And there were so many of them—over four times the amount of noble boys. I wondered at that. Perhaps it had something to do with the flux? After all, this reaping was nearly seven years past due.

The Fireguards took up posts around the tables where the mud boys sat, making them flinch and eye them warily. A brown-haired boy across from me raised an eyebrow, shrugging. A small flicker of kinship flared at this shared gesture. To Nobles, Fireguards were simply part of the decoration, and not any cause for concern.

Lord Vession walked up a small dais so he could look out over all of us. "Welcome to your reaping. All of you will learn and grow together, or die trying."

The surrounding boys snickered and elbowed each other as if sharing a joke. I shot a glance at the mud boys, most of whom had gone white.

"Know now your place and your order in things," Vession continued. "You are not to start fights. You are not to cause trouble. You will work hard, study harder, and fulfill your glorious purpose for the crown."

There was a beat of silence until a single voice rang out from one of the mud boy tables.

"Why do they get nice clothes and we get this?" A boy tugged at his sack-like garment, distaste twisting his expression.

Vession's brow furrowed. "The noble children come with what they have. You came with nothing, so we gave you what we had. Once you get sorted into your respective paths, you will earn clothing that is more befitting of your talents and work ethic. Right now, you are a blank slate. Your garment reflects that."

He paused, as if bracing himself for what he was going to say next.

"Do not think for a second you are equal to the Nobles. You are not. Accept this now, or things will be much harder for you." Vession's eyes tracked to the Fireguards lining the edges of their tables, their faces and features undecipherable behind their armor and face masks.

"But he's just like us! He's just got nicer clothes on!" the boy protested, one finger rudely pointed at my chest.

A flicker of something went through Vession's eyes, but then a Fireguard moved toward the boy, who didn't have time to react before he got cracked fully in the face.

The boy shrieked and fell back, clutching his face as blood and tears streamed between his fingers.

"Any other questions?" Vession asked tightly.

The hall was silent except for the boy's sniffing and small, gasping cries.