Susan crept toward Kate, and the dog growled a threat. Kate lifted a hand to reach for her, and the animal snapped. So they sat there, hugging their own knees, as the wagon chugged through the market square and into the side streets, winding back past the taller buildings the children had seen before, then through the large rally square. It was littered with red paper and the spoiled remains of smashed picnics. Oily crows picked at the leftovers and flew off, screeching, as the wagon rolled by.
There were no more tall buildings on the far side of the rally square. Here the bricks were gray and the streets full of soldiers. Under a leather canopy, Susan spied a long table, where red-shirted officials ate with a gusto that reminded her of Liyla’s father. One block farther, and a line of fidgeting people stood outside a low stone building, waiting in the heat to be called forward by an official who sat fanning himself with the edge of his red cloak.
Susan’s legs were shaking. She gripped them tighter and tried to reason with herself. It can’t be as bad as they say, she told herself. People exaggerate in rumors. But her heart wouldn’t listen to reason and kept knocking stubbornly against her chest.
Too soon, they sputtered to a stop before what seemed to be the main building, a blocky structure only about three stories high, but the tallest one in sight. A scarlet flag flew from its roof.
The soldier dismounted and gave a whistle. Several guards jogged over.
“These are the ones wanted,” he told them. “Take them to Ker.”
They were hustled down from the wagon and shoved through the door. If the building had seemed small on the outside, the opulence of the furnishings inside made up for it. Great slabs of marble gleamed in the floor, and oil lamps flickered in sconces, casting shadows that danced along the red banners on the walls. The lobby ended in tall red doors, their greasy finish glistening in the yellow light.
The soldiers propelled them down a wide lamplit hall so warm Susan felt the sweat trace lines on her face. There were no windows, and beneath her feet the polished stone felt slippery, as if it, too, perspired.
“Here,” one of the soldiers said, stopping them at another red door. He rapped sharply on it, and it was opened by a woman dressed in a deep-ruby gown.
“Ker,” the soldier said, dipping his head to her.
The woman had covered her raw face, recently waxed, with a slick layer of skin-toned makeup, and Susan realized that the smooth, almost-normal complexion made her ferocious, angular features even more unnatural.
Ker’s eyes widened when she saw them, and she smiled, showing her long teeth, the ends shaved to a flat line.
“Thank you, soldier, for accompanying our guests,” she said. Her voice was nasal and breathy. “I’d like one or two more of your men to come along with us. We’re going to the back room.”
The back room had a chilly sound. Even the soldier flinched, almost imperceptibly, when she said it.
He nodded and turned to two men standing at attention in the hall. Ker looked over his shoulder, then back at the children.
“Two more, I think.”
Susan’s throat tightened. Rumors, she told herself. Exaggerations. But her heart continued galloping behind her ribs, and her mouth went dry. Two more soldiers approached from the hall and came to stand, one each, behind the children. Ker smiled again, baring her teeth.
“Excellent. Come along, then.” She closed the door to her room and walked up the hall, her long dress snaking behind her. Susan flinched as a soldier put a hand on her bruised shoulder and pressed her forward. She glanced at her siblings in the flickering light. Sweat stood out on Max’s forehead; his face looked dull and yellow in the shadow of the lamps. He blinked over and over, wiping perspiration from his eyes. Beside him Jean had her hand wrapped around her shirt, clutching the unseen Barbie.
Ahead of them, Ker stopped at another red door, produced a ring of keys, opened it, and stepped inside. Kate, thrust forward by the soldier behind her, was first to reach the threshold. Susan saw her stop suddenly and try to step backward. She met the soldier’s stomach and ducked sideways. He grabbed her arm.
“No! I don’t want to go in there!”
He shoved her through.
Susan flinched and tried to reach her, but before she could move, the soldier behind her had her arms.
From the right, Jean made a break for it, jumping away so suddenly that she managed a few steps before a red cloak snatched her back, dragging her through the door. The soldiers propelled Nell and Susan through together. Beside her, Susan felt Nell go rigid.
A grimy tiled floor spread out from the doorway of the windowless room. Tile walls glimmered slickly beneath kerosene lights; the scent of warm metal clung to them.
A series of straight-backed iron chairs stood on clawed metal feet along the walls, and on each hung leather straps for arms and legs. At the other end of the room, a wide door stood half open, and through it Susan could see a row of iron tables. They, too, had straps. She turned her head and saw a glass case full of syringes, tubes, and long thin knives.
Instinctively, Susan arched backward, but the soldier drove her forward. She found herself shoved into a chair, her back clanging against the hard metal.
She yelled and thrashed, kicking and slapping, but the man was too strong. He bound first one arm, then the other; the hot leather gouged deep into her wrists and elbows, then her ankles. Her shoulder throbbed. She couldn’t move.
She heard Max shouting. The soldier holding Nell cursed, and Susan saw him grab at a red spot on his arm; Nell had taken a bite out of him. Furious, he slammed her down
