Ma stops at a jewelry booth sporting dozens of shiny beads.
“What do you think of these crystals?” Ma cradles a string of shimmery blue gems in her hand.
The shopkeeper beams. “Those are one of a kind, from a supply drop last year.”
“The Leader provides,” Ma says proudly.
“The Leader provides,” the man echoes.
I sigh, fiddling with my communicator. We can’t afford real crystals, so I don’t know why Ma’s even looking.
A couple little Skilled kids tiptoe past me, heading toward the stage—and the labyrinth behind it. My skin prickles, and I can’t look away. The rough, red clay walls tower high over everyone’s heads.
“Dare you to run up to the entrance,” the boy says. He’s got dark brown skin, curly hair, and a gold pendant on his chest worth several times what Ma makes in a year.
“No way.” The girl shudders, making the blonde pigtails framing her pale face quiver. “I dare you to get really close and say his name.”
The boy puffs out his chest, but fear glimmers in his eyes. “I’ll totally do it.”
“You totally won’t.”
It’s a common dare—to stand against the labyrinth wall and say Dex’s name aloud. They say it summons him, and he’ll grab the speaker immediately and drag them inside. I don’t know if anyone’s been brave enough to try it and find out.
The kids crouch by the corner of the stage and peek out. I roll my eyes; they think they’re being sneaky, but it’s so obvious they’re trying to catch a glimpse inside the labyrinth. The foggy maze entrance behind the stage always draws at least a couple troublemakers who don’t take the warnings seriously.
Our immortal Leader built this labyrinth centuries ago to protect his palace, at the other end of the maze. Legend has it, he wanted to ensure only those who truly deserved his consult, who were brave enough to weather the labyrinth’s dangers, could complete the maze and reach him. It’s the only way to see him face to face; he usually communicates with us through a giant screen. But no one’s ever completed it—or even survived more than a couple minutes inside—so I’d say it’s impossible. Especially when Dex lurks in its corridors.
I bite my lip. Drawing attention to myself isn’t at the top of my list today, but I’m not about to let these kids wander inside and fall under permanent hypnosis. Time for a little intervention before they get any closer.
I take a deep breath and tiptoe toward the kids. “Psst. Hey.”
They both jump, but turn their attention toward me. They’re only about nine years old, but they’re still Skilled, so I keep my branded palms out of sight.
“You’ve heard that Dex eats children so he can absorb their Skills, right?” I say, biting back a smile.
“Nuh-uh,” the boy snipes back.
The girl stares.
“It’s true.” Actually, no one knows what’s true about Dex, but I’ve heard these stories enough times that they’re basically fact around here.
“My Pa says Dex was born in the maze,” the little girl says, her eyes wide. “And absorbed some of its magic.”
I shoot a glance at the too-close labyrinth, barely twenty feet away, trying to keep my heart from hammering. “That’s one theory.”
“That’s not true.” The boy whirls on her. “He was a Trinnean kid, abandoned at the labyrinth entrance.”
The girl puts her hands on her hips. “You don’t know that.”
“Actually,” I cut in before their raised voices attract any unwanted attention, “no one knows for sure.” Anyone who gets close enough to learn the truth loses their mind before they can share. They usually end up in the asylum, if they aren’t killed in the maze first. “You shouldn’t stand so close to the entrance, though. Otherwise he might . . . jump out and grab you!”
They gasp.
“Delilah!” A woman with her lips pressed tightly together marches toward them. “Delilah Anne, I swear to the Leader, if you’re within ten feet of that maze . . .”
The kids both stiffen at once. “Go, go, go,” Delilah whispers, pushing the boy back toward the crowd and away from the labyrinth.
I slink back into the shadows before the angry woman can see me. A slight smile twitches across my face. It’s nice talking to people who don’t immediately hurl insults at me, even if they are little kids. And really, they’re lucky I was here. I’m not sure whose bright idea it was not to station guards outside the labyrinth entrance for the festival. If Dex was going to creep out of the maze and steal his next victim, this would be an opportune time, with everyone drinking too much grog and wandering around the Square.
I shiver thinking about it. With a quick glance left to right, I hustle back to where Ma stands, still examining the expensive crystals. “Can we keep walking?”
Ma puts the string of shiny beads back on their tray. “Where do you want to go?” She wraps a brown cloth around her head, protecting her neck and face from the desert sun burning in a sea of blue above us. Almost everyone around us wears either a scarf or a floppy hat, as the Leader picked the hottest hours of the day for this. My insides are practically boiling in my brown leather jacket, but it’s better than frying my skin in the sun. Dry heat smothers my face like a blanket. “Want to check out Court Jentry’s stand?” she continues, even though I’m only half listening. “Maybe he’ll cut a bargain on that cured meat you love so much.”
My fingers jitter against my thighs. “Maybe, yeah. Sure.”
I click my communicator; the time flashes across the screen. The Leader’s address should begin soon. Then I can go home. I wish I could get excited about Waterday like everyone else. But I’m not like everyone else, as they’re always so quick to remind me. The burns on my palms make that super clear. In a few years, those two kids entranced by my stories probably won’t even give me the time of day.
More and more people flood into the small space, elbowing through each other to gawk at the various stands. Stagnant heat floats between the tightly-packed bodies, tainting the sweet aroma of bread with the stench of body odor. I squirm, keeping my arms tight at my sides.
“They should let Blanks into town for this,” a passing guy says to his friend. My ears perk. Blanks are so rarely allowed in Trinnea, they’d never guess one is standing right next to them. I’m here legally, but they won’t care. As far as they know, I’m a Blank, and Blanks don’t deserve to live within the city walls. I don’t dare move a muscle.
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