She pulls out a tiny dress from her bag, which reminds me more of a nightgown than a dress. Not one you’d ever sleep in, but the kind you might wear during your wedding night. I suppose Amy brought all these clothes from her village. She slips the dress on and asks, “What are you gonna wear?”
I mutter that I’m going to wear my gray uniform.
“No way!” Amy exclaims, her eyes filled with horror. “Borrow one of mine.”
I envision myself in one of Amy’s nightgowns, and the image is so miserable that it causes me to shiver. I’m definitely going to wear my uniform.
After braiding her own hair, Amy grabs me by the hand and leads me toward the door. Outside, a large group is already gathered around a big campfire. It’s dark out but the air is still warm. I look up, gazing into the bottomless blackness of the sky filled with a million shimmering stars. Suddenly, I feel like crying. I’ve never seen such a sky before. Fruit trees along with some bizarre-shaped plants grow outside our living quarters. I close my eyes and it seems like I can almost hear the sound of ocean waves crashing against the shore.
Amy pulls at my hand, heading toward a group of guys, but it’s a little too much for me to bear. I find myself a nice quiet place under a tree and sit down on the grass. Amy lingers around for a few more minutes, then leaves to chit-chat with her new fans.
“Hi Kora,” Tanya says, plopping down beside me.
“What are you doing out here?” I ask. “You’re not a racer, are you?”
“No,” Tanya shakes her head. “They’ve made me a cleaner. I’ll be washing floors in the training facility and mansion.” She offers me a genuinely sweet smile. “I just came to say hello.”
Of course she did. Back in our village, I was about the only girl who treated Tanya kindly. One time I even brought her an orange from Lady Augusta’s garden.
“Tanya,” I say. “This gathering is only for the racers. You shouldn’t be here.”
She looks up at me, hurt reflecting in her eyes.
“Go back to your quarters,” I add, worrying that the other racers might see me hanging out with her. What if they laugh at me for having such a friend?
“I guess you’re right,” she mutters, rising to her feet.
I watch as she walks away, her head hanging. I feel rotten inside and guilty. I see a lot of myself in Tanya, the same beaten down outcast, yet I willingly rejected her. I wonder what is wrong with me and why I have to act in such a mean, cowardly way. Shameful.
“How are you doing, Kora?”
Trent sits on the sand beside me. I flinch from the sound of his voice because I hadn’t noticed his approach.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he says, a little surprised.
“Why not?” I ask.
“Well, you tended to keep away from people before.”
I don’t say anything, simply smiling at him.
Trent asks who my roommates are and whether I like them or not.
“They’re fine,” I answer. “Two young girls from Central Settlement and Amy.” I motion toward Amethyst who’s laughing loudly, surrounded by guys.
Trent grimaces. “She seems… a bit wild.” There’s a clear tone of disapproval in his voice.
“She’s cool,” I say defensively. “And she’s my friend,” I add, although I only met her like thirty minutes ago.
“Whatever,” Trent shrugs.
He becomes quiet. I realize that his attitude has significantly improved since supper. He grins, looking up at the stars with curiosity. The night, salty air, Trent’s closeness and thoughts of freedom suddenly overwhelm me. I feel euphoric. I lay my head on his shoulder, shocked by my own bravery, and we sit side by side for a few moments. Then I lean into him and quickly kiss him on the cheek, my heart pounding. He smirks, pulls me closer and suddenly kisses my lips. I freeze, completely dazed and anxious now. I’ve been dreaming about this moment for so long. Trent pulls away and we sit in silence again, holding hands.
Half an hour later, guards announce for us to gather around the campfire for branding. The masters use this method to distinguish their stock. I was seven when I received a picker marking across my left shoulder. The guards heat a branding iron and instruct us to form a line.
My teeth chatter when my turn comes. I pull up my left sleeve and a guard presses the hot red metal into my skin. I flinch in pain, smell my own flesh burning, and then it’s over. I stumble away, staring at my new branding mark.
A feeling of unease creeps over me as I realize there’s no going back for me now. I’m Master Gabriel’s servant. He may do whatever he pleases with me. I remember him threatening us with the handgun, and suddenly feel scared. I have no idea what he has on his mind.
CHAPTER 6
I have trouble sleeping the first night. After tossing and turning for several hours, I finally pass out only to see troublesome dreams in my sleep. I hear children crying and the anguished pleading of their parents. I dream of bloodied faces, burnt corpses and servants being buried alive. Public whippings and living under the constant fear of punishment with a violent master. These are images from my early childhood, a
