The door behind him is shut, and there’s no way around his large, six-two frame. My fingers twitch to the darts in my pocket, but I curl them into a fist. The Red Runners taught me a little hand-to-hand combat, but I’m not strong enough to go against a grown man.
He tilts his head to the side, and his strange eyes narrow with scrutiny. “May I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” my voice rasps, and I press my spine against the balcony’s stone wall.
“Why did you join the Trials?”
The lie tumbles from my lips. “For the opportunity to marry Prince Kevon.”
“What about him makes you think he could be good for you?”
My tight chest loosens, and a breath whooshes from my lungs. Sergeant Silver is just curious. Nothing more.
Turning my head, I bite down on my lip and stare into the pond. Sunlight bounces off the water’s surface, and it’s mesmerizing, just like Ryce Wintergreen. Until yesterday, Ryce hasn’t given me the opportunity to know him, but I can’t help the way I feel.
I turn back to the guard, who stares at me with a strange intensity. He looks about eighteen, but he could be older. I wonder if he’s like Garrett, who wants to do something else in the Guardian Echelon or if this is his permanent role.
“You want to know why I really signed up?” I ask.
He nods.
“Sometimes, you can see a person from afar and know how they feel,” I say, remembering the day Dad brought me to the Wintergreen home and Ryce’s reaction to my failure to save his father.
Ryce barely looked at me over the following years, but his tragic story gripped my heart. He turned devastation to determination, and when Carolina appointed him the leader of a Red Runners cell, I couldn’t help but join.
“You see their struggles, their strengths, and their triumphs.” My heart fills with inspiration, and I straighten. “He carries the troubles of Phangloria on his shoulders because he’s going to lead. I would like to be the person at his side who helps carry his burden.”
“Can anyone be that selfless?” he asks.
I meet the guard’s green eyes. “This is an opportunity for my happiness, too. I’m not sure about my chances, but if I don’t try, it’s something I will regret forever.”
“And the status doesn’t hurt?” A wry smile curves his lips.
His words snap me back to reality, and annoyance prickles my skin that I’ve opened my heart to a guard. “Do you know what I long for every day?”
“Tell me,” he says.
“Water.”
He frowns. “What?”
“Have you ever worked in the Harvester region?”
He shakes his head. “My apprenticeship took me to the border. Afterward, I worked in the navy.”
My brows draw together. “What is it like outside?”
“The desert?” he asks.
I nod.
“There are towers at the wall where you can view the wilderness for miles.” He fixes me with solemn eyes. “Some of the images of the land outside the desert are beyond description. I’m amazed that people survive that hell and reach the gates.”
My mind drifts to Mom, whose parents traveled across the desert to reach Phangloria. She never talks about the hardship she experienced in the Barrens or about what she might have seen at the wall, so it’s fascinating to hear Sergeant Silver’s account.
“Do the guards ever turn people away?” I ask.
Sergeant Silver shakes his head. “Nobody civilized is denied shelter, no matter their physical state.” He draws in a deep breath. “I have the utmost admiration for anyone determined enough to cross such a hostile environment to reach Phangloria.”
My gaze turns to the ripples of water. There are two types of people who make it to the Great Wall. The first is Foundlings, like Mom’s parents and the man with the jawless mouth working in Carolina’s underground hideout. The second are humans who have regressed to a feral state, who we refer to as wild men.
From what I learned in Modern History classes, they don’t have a language, but they can create tools and weapons and will eat anything, including their own kind.
“What’s it like to live in the most tranquil region within Phangloria?” Sergeant Silver asks.
“We don’t have lakes or ponds or even streams. Everything is piped from the Oasis.” I sweep out a hand over our surroundings. “You say the Harvester region is beautiful, but there’s only enough water for crops. Everyone gets the government recommended allowance, but I’ve never swum in fresh water or soaked in a private bath.”
His brows rise, but he doesn’t comment. Maybe it’s because he thinks I’m hankering over something trivial, but I would like to see him swap his fruit-infused Smoky Water for the metallic-tasting liquid we get at home.
“What would make me happiest is a better future for everyone in Phangloria. I think we can make this a reality together.”
He blows out a breath. “Prince Kevon is a lucky fellow to have such a committed admirer.”
My bracelet beeps, jolting me out of my musings. “What’s that?”
“You’re wanted onstage.” Sergeant Silver opens the door. “I’ll show you the way.”
Chapter 8
We rush through a darkened hallway at the end of which stand two women with headphones attached to screens on their heads. They are fussing around a petite Harvester girl, fluffing up her hair and telling her to take deep breaths.
“Good,” says Sergeant Silver. “It looks like you’re still on time.”
They both turn around. The red lights hanging over the door marked STAGE makes their frowns appear like scowls, and the Harvester girl looks pale enough to faint.
“Where have you been?” one of them hisses. “We had to arrange an early interval because you weren’t in place.”
“Sorry,” I mutter.
The lights turn green, and she spins away, not giving me a chance to muster up an excuse. I turn to thank the guard, but he’s already gone.
One of the stagehands places both hands on the girl’s shoulders. “You saw the previous girls. Follow Montana’s leads, be polite to the judges, and smile.”
She nods, and
