EXALTED (An Exalted Novel) (10 page)

His image flickers in and out of focus as he passes behind the cornstalks. I can’t tell what expression his face holds.
Happy? Sad? Something else I don’t have a name for yet?

“We keep watch of the fields for anything different, for any sign that someone may have gotten off the Pump by accident, like with me. The last citizen we took was smiling when he was inspecting the corn.” Ryker pauses in thought. I can hear him as he draws in a deep breath to deliver the next piece of the puzzle. “The next morning when I was on watch, I saw you and another young Exalted patrolling. Both of you appeared to still be under the influence of the Pump, but then I got a closer look at you. I saw that you weren’t marked as a United. The Republic has never sent trainees out before. I took a risk and decided to tell one of you, hoping you would listen, because once you’re United, it’s virtually impossible to get out.”

A sound that starts in his chest and radiates up to his mouth produces the most infectious melody I have ever heard. “Plus you’re prettier than the boy anyway,” he adds.

Flames lick up the sides of my face at his admission. I want to run and hide in the green and gold jungle to my side, never to emerge again. No one has ever commented on my appearance before. I don’t think I like it. My curiosity for more information wins out. I have to ask, “What do you call that noise you just made?”

“A laugh. You laugh when something is funny—when you’re happy. It’s like smiling out loud.” He looks me over and says, “And that, that’s called being embarrassed. You’re so red.” He laughs some more. “Can’t take a compliment, can you?”

My face turns hard, devoid of any happiness or laughter. The space between my eyebrows scrunches up. I set my jaw. “I can take a compliment just fine as long as it’s about my skills. No one has any reason to notice the way I look. That’s not important.”

“And that’s called getting mad or maybe annoyed.” His laughter dies. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry to. I just seem to have such strong reactions to everything. Is that normal?”

“It is. You’ve never experienced emotions before. It’ll take a while for you handle experiences and the emotions associated with them at a “normal” level. When I first came off the Pump I was so angry all the time. I wanted to kill everybody that crossed my path. Now look at me, I’m smiling and walking through fields of corn with a pretty girl . . .
er
. . . a strong girl. Anyway, it does get better.” Ryker fumbled a little there, but he recovered nicely.

I turn and enter into the embrace of the corn, hiding within their cover. We are still separate by stalks as we walk, but I’m able to lose my rigid demeanor. I enjoy my time with Ryker as he explains several more emotions to me and gives their names. Some of them I haven’t felt yet, like grief, envy, surprise, rage, and pity. I hope to experience them all someday, even the bad ones. There are others that I have felt. I’ve experienced fear (which is occurring too often for my liking), happiness (my favorite so far), guilt (about not telling Val about the Pump), and disappointment (the way I’ve been feeling about the Republic recently). I repeat them back several times to him, hoping to remember them all. I’d like to share them with Ethan.

I open my mouth to ask my new acquaintance about what’s out there, beyond the Republic, but he abruptly stops walking. Ryker whips his head around to the North as if he heard something. I haven’t heard anything at all. “I have to go,” he mumbles, and then he sprints away, head ducked low, fading into the croplands.

“But what am I supposed to do now?” The question hangs in the air with no one to hear it except the corn. I feel disappointed once again, as I stand here companionless and drowning in a field of questions. My heart sinks.

As I finish the last half hour of my patrol, I think about what I should do, and for the second time, what I want to do. I hold my life in my hands. It’s
my
life. The memory of the freedom of choice at the Choosing Day ceremony comes back to me briefly. I compare that moment to this moment. It doesn’t even come close to the magnitude of the possibilities and consequences that I face now.
Should I leave, like Ryker did? No. I should stay. This is my home. My parents and my friends are here. I want to prove my abilities and rank amongst the Exalted as the strongest female in my Trials. But do I want to go through with the United Ceremony at the end of it all? Before, when I had no emotions, I would have been honored to be United with the strongest male. Now, I want more than that. I want to choose my United. I want him to choose me. What if I am matched with Az? I don’t think I could live with him as a mate for life. The more I think about it, the angrier I get at the Republic for taking away our choices. Ryker was right. They are controlling the Exalted, and in fact, breeding us to their liking. It’s sick, but the sad thing is, we all want it that way.

Anger surges through me, like hurricane force winds beating against the city’s walls. And just because I want to, I cut off an ear of the golden corn that I’ve been protecting. I shove it deep in my knife sheath. I don’t want to eat it—I simply want to do something against the Republic, even something as petty as stealing a vegetable.

Ethan’s withdrawals from the Pump lasted slightly longer than mine did. I had to cover for him in training several times, making up excuses that didn’t compromise him in the instructors’ eyes. Unfortunately, nothing I said could protect him from Az’s fist in combat training. He left class once with a black eye. The following day, he left with a bloody nose.

Ethan and I agreed not to tell Val about the Pump yet, for fear of her safety and ours. In turn, not telling her has actually helped us improve our acting skills. It’s especially helped me, since I live in such close quarters with her. Ethan and I have become better at displaying our aggressive and stiff mannerisms than even the veteran Exalted.

I gave Ethan the names to all of the other emotions Ryker told me about. He never asked me how I knew them, he simply listened, and together we experienced some of those new feelings. It’s been exciting having someone to share these secrets with, but mostly I feel calm when I’m around him. He says I make him feel stronger, the ultimate compliment from one Exalted to another, from one potential partner to another.

We’ve also been appreciative of all the nature and unnoticed things around us as we walk to training and patrol duty together. We take in the wonder of the blue sky above and the brown earth below, discovering the beauty of it all. Words can’t describe how lucky I feel to have someone in my life to share all these new experiences with. It’s bonded Ethan and me in a way that I will never bond with someone else.

I often think about Ryker, though not with as much vigor as before. Perhaps my emotions are settling down like he said. I owe him a debt of gratitude. He’s responsible for unleashing all of these new things in me. Without him, I would still be in a fog, lost to a world of gray. I have so much more I want to know though. It’s been too long since I’ve seen him. I can still picture his handsome face and his lean body, as if he’s standing right in front of me. The memory of his laugh is fresh in my mind.

I have yet to hear Ethan laugh.

Decisions about the Republic and the Pump have been put on hold. Without Ryker in the mix, there’s too much left unknown. Even if I decided to leave, I would have nowhere to go. Ethan shows no concern over the Republic’s indiscretions, so I don’t share my thoughts about it with him. He’s focused on training, and he’s enjoying his advantage over the other trainees. He seems content to stay on the same path.

Ethan and I have both dramatically improved in our weapons training class. I believe that the “good” Dr. Fredericks had it wrong when he decided to use the Pump to control our emotions, leaving us with only the need to be strong, serve, and fearlessly protect.  There’s no passion behind those impulses. Ethan and I have had life breathed into us. There are so many things that fuel us on.

This week is the last before the Trials begin. We’re close to being ready . . .
we think
. We found out what the board lined with black dots is used for in weapons training. Actually, we spent over a week practicing on only that frustrating board. After class was over, I’d see spots everywhere. They were on my food, the walls, and my friend. I actually asked Val what was up with her skin breaking out. I quickly apologized to her after my embarrassing mistake.

Garret would call out a row and a column, and we would have to hit the tiny black mark that correlated. Once we accomplished hitting the mark consistently, he started timing us. Then, of course, out came the rocks. The worst thing was getting hit in the face, which happened more than once. Garret wouldn’t allow the cleaning citizens to mop the blood away. He said he wants it to be there everyday as a reminder to us not to miss.

This week we get to work on the Defender’s course. I’m so excited the first morning –I nearly let a smile escape in front of Garret. I jump side-to-side, pumping my blood faster through my system. I prepare to face off against Garret and his two assistants. I choose to go first. Ethan is happy to go second in hopes of studying the situation and layout more thoroughly. He’ll gain knowledge of the course by watching me go first. I, on the other hand, want to come out of this knowing I can handle the unexpected and deal with it accordingly.

I wipe my left foot through the sand and then my right, like a bull waiting to charge. I must make it to the gray wall that towers at the other end of the course, and then climb over it to complete the mission.

Trees, shrubs, and cacti speckle the sandy landscape. A small pond quietly sits next to a huge tree. The tree appears to be burned as if a bolt of lightening or maybe an explosion had its way with it. Garret and the two assistants will play marauders and try to kill me before I reach my destination.

Mock knives have been given to me to replace my own deadly ones for this practice exercise. Real marauders can come at me with any variety of weapons, so the instructors will do the same. Their weapons will be imitations as well.

“Kill on sight! Don’t hesitate!” Garret commands. “Begin when the lights come back on.”

I nod.
I’m ready. I am so ready for this.
The lights switch off, and I’m plunged into darkness.

Garret and his two assistants disappear as the darkened training room swallows them. They take their places in the black expanse before me. A chill runs down my spine as I lose my bearings on the space around me. My confidence is shaken for a second.

The light switches on. I don’t see anyone except Ethan. He’s perched on the top step of a small set of bleachers, trying to get the best view of my first attempt on the Defender’s Course. 

I look back to the course before me. A true Exalted would go into this without fear.
Go!
I urge myself. I clasp a mock dagger in each hand and advance into the field of sand with my senses on high alert. I look around once more, attempting to determine the best path. I decide to go straight through the middle. It’s a clear footpath, which avoids the largest tree cluster and a separate cacti cluster by the crates. I will have to pass close to the pond and another small group of trees with shrubs, but I feel confident about this direction.

I make a wide berth around the first tree. It’s a wide tree with enough room for a person to hide behind. I take in my surroundings. No one is there waiting to assault me. I look into its leafy foliage above. No one is waiting to pounce on top of me either.

Not even a second after relief passes through me, I feel a knife on the delicate skin of my throat. It quickly slashes across my carotid artery.
No!
I silently scream at myself.

I turn around and conclude that Assistant #1 hid behind a tree off to the right of the starting line. He shakes his head at me as the three of them regroup. The air is thick with the stench of my failure.

Garret screams at me as I leave the course to take my seat in the stands. “That was terrible Mena! You won’t last two seconds in the Third Trial at that rate!”

I feel awful. I hope Ethan proves to make a better go of it. After checking the first and second tree, Ethan is attacked head on by Assistant #1. He is unable to disarm his attacker and takes a stab to the gut. His defeat is quickly followed by his own encouraging comments from Garret. Ethan’s face is full of disappointment as he heads back to the bleachers to watch me.

It is once again my turn. I choose the same path through the course as the last time. I sweep the first tree. Clear. Heading toward the second, I catch a glimpse of rustling leaves. I keep my eyes cast upward, preparing for an ambush. It doesn’t come. The assistant remains in the protection of the tree. As I look up at him, I remember Garret instructing us to kill on sight. I can’t leave a marauder alive.

Pushing off the ground in one graceful bound, I catch a lower limb and swing up to a crouch on the next nearest limb. Assistant #1 starts yelling, “Don’t kill me! Please! Stop! No!”

I hate him.

I push through the anger I’m feeling towards Garret’s assistant for making me kill him as an innocent. I attack him as I’m expected. He doesn’t struggle much. He mimics what a weak marauder might be like. After the kill, I question myself.
Will I really be able to do this? Will I be able to kill an innocent?
I instinctively know the answer. I will never be able to do such a horrible thing. However traumatic that thought, I can’t do anything about it right now. I have to keep playing their game. Later, when I’m on the outside, making my way through the Third Trial, they won’t be watching me. I will be alone. There will be no Republic, no instructors, no friends, and no family.