Page 4 of Xantera
“I’m fine, thanks. Just a clumsy old fart.”
My frown cuts deeper into my cheeks.
“Did someone push you?”
It would be unspeakable, an act of violence like that. If his partner did it, I have no doubt the Twelve Guardians would vanquish her just as they did the Monster five hundred years ago. Just as theydo to all the rare civilians who choose to break the guidelines that weave our entire society together.
But Diggory shakes his head with a lazy wave of his hand.
“Nobody pushed me.” He closes his eyes and mutters something else under his breath, but I don’t quite catch it, and it would be rude of me to insinuate he’s lying by prying further.
As I remove his pulse oximeter and blood pressure cuff, though, jotting down his vitals information, I can’t dislodge the feeling that I’m missing something.
That the patient I am supposed to keep alive didn’t fall in the shower at all.
I don’t have much time to ruminate on it, unfortunately. The day whizzes by in a blur, and soon I’m back at the apartment with Malcolm, eating dinner with my knee jiggling in anticipation.
Six hours. Six more hours until the Choosing.
“How was your day?” Malcolm asks in the same tone he does every night, his gaze drifting off to the side.
I swallow a mouthful of broccoli and nod.
“It was pleasant. How was yours?”
“Pleasant as well, thank you.”
The sound of his chewing is like fingernails scraping in my ears. I have a fleeting thought that I would tear out my own eardrums if I could, just so I’d never have to hear that sound again. I have another fleeting thought that maybe I won’t have to. Maybe one of the Guardians will choose me tonight, and I’ll be waving to Malcolm from one of those ivory-wrought balconies by this weekend, and he’ll get assigned a new civil partner who can tolerate all this chewing and snoring.
After dinner, we clean our dishes side by side and retire to our separate rooms, but neither of us go to sleep. Not tonight. Tonight,the entirety of Xantera will be wide awake, waiting for that smooth female voice to announce the same thing it does every few months when the sky begins to bleed and the doors to the Blood Moon Palace crack open.
After what seems like an eternity of waiting and staring at the ceiling and waiting some more, static rolls over me. The loudspeakers crackle.
I’m up and out of bed before the announcement can even finish.
“Eligible citizens of Xantera, please report to the Blood Moon Palace for the Choosing.”
It’s time.
My hackles raise as my back arches, and I howl again at the red moon: the largest one I’ve seen in years.
My life is measured in them.
This year’s third quarter brings one in August. At the top of its arc, a sliver of orange fades to white—almost like the moon is being drained of its blood. Like it could die, if it was even alive in the first place.
There’s a change in the air, something sweet. I can smell it on the wind that carries between the spikes of the Wall before it twists through the woods.
I want to get in.Needto get in. Like it’s encoded in every atom humming through me. The white-hot rage that crosses my vision never ceases, but the blood moon only intensifies it.
I will stop at nothing. Otherwise…
No.
Time is running out, but that Wallwillcome down.
Eligible citizens of Xantera, please report to the Blood Moon Palace for the Choosing.”
The female voice repeats her message every few seconds, and I’m a whirl of movement in response.
