Page 9 of Their Lethal Pet
A few around us stir, clearly having heard our conversation. They may not have understood the words, but the whispers were loud in this too-silent square.
The Village Viscount instantly finds me in the crowd, likely not because of my voice, but because of my movement.
He’s too far away for me to properly discern his elderly features, but his attention is very clearly on me now.
What are you going to do?I demand with my eyes, even as my spine tingles with the need to submit. I’ve never been this bold. It feels reckless. Liberating. Terrifying.
He’s surrounded by Village Protectors, the men all marked by their faceless appearances. Their hoods hide their identities. Some of them may actually be from the train behind the stage.
The Lightrailer.
It’s a massive train with too-white metal siding, the pristine color reminding me of my dress.
How does it stay so clean?I wonder.
I’ve been in this gown for a mere three hours, and it already feels dirty. Yet that train is shockingly bright despite however many thousands of miles it’s traveled.
I swallow, unease prickling my neck at the thought of boarding the Lightrailer. It’s my goal. My desire. But that doesn’t make it comforting.
My focus returns to the Viscount to find him still staring at me. Or that’s the way it looks from way backhere. There are over a thousand people in this town square with several thousand more around us.
The village always feels small until all of us congregate. We’re so spread out, some of us living closer to the center—like me and Sage—and others expanding up and down the mountains. Several people here walked four to five miles this morning to reach the ceremony.
All without water or nourishment.
Yet you continue to stand there and lord your power over us,I think, glaring at the Viscount.Just get it over with.
I swear he narrows his gaze in reply. Maybe it’s my imagination. Maybe I’m delirious from the heat and being forced to wait. Or maybe I’m seeing him clearly for the first time.
This man isn’t worthy of my respect.
It’s a stark realization that sends a jolt down my spine.
For twenty-two years, I’ve feared and worshipped this man. But now? Now I just want him to say my name and let me board that train.
What if he doesn’t pick me from the Chalice?I wonder.What if I’m stuck here for another twelve months?
What if there are no Offerings this year?
Shit.
If I don’t get on that train today, I?—
The Viscount steps forward, causing my thoughts to grind to a screeching halt.
Er, no. That’s not the cause of the screeching…It was his microphone.
Everyone in the crowd seems to fight a wince, including me. But it’s not so much the sound that has me wanting to cringe as it is the fact that the Viscount is still looking right at me.
He presses his hand to his ear in a strange gesture, his gaze flicking to the train station several yards behind himas his jaw visibly moves. The barest hint of his voice travels through the speaker, the deep baritone unintelligible. He’s just out of reach of the microphone. But that tone is enough to send a chill through my entire being.
Have I made a mistake?I wonder.I’ve been bold. Too bold. What if there’s something worse he can do to me?
I’m no longer a sheep. I’ve strayed from the herd. I don’t care if they put my name in the Chalice. Hell, Iwantthem to add my entries.
Does that make me a target for another sort of punishment?
The way the Viscount grins as he turns his attention my way again causes the answer,Yes,to whisper through my mind.Yes, Lina, there are worse punishments. Much worse. I can see it in the way the Viscount evaluates us all now, his expression almost sinister.
