Resist by sarah crossan

Author:sarah crossan [crossan, sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2013-05-21T16:00:00+00:00

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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29

ALINA

It kicks off in the cabin after dinner. “You want to throttle me? Go ahead!” Dorian shouts. He rips off his jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt.

Song is standing between them again yet, so they don’t rip each other to pieces. “Calm down,” he says.

Maude and Bruce are lying on their bunks with their hands behind their heads. “Let’s have a good ol’ fashioned boxing match. Ding-ding—Round One!” Maude says.

Bruce laughs but gets up and stands between Dorian and Silas, too. “Not sure what’s going on, boys, but you can’t be having it as hard as us,” he says. He shows us his blistered hands. “So what is the point of all this squabbling?” Bruce asks.

Silas goes to the window and opens the blinds. It’s already dark. “This place makes my skin crawl.”

“Silas has forgotten that real revolution means sacrifice,” Dorian says.

“And Dorian has forgotten that we don’t sacrifice our friends,” Silas snaps back. He tries pulling open the window, and when it doesn’t budge, he goes to the door and jimmies the handle. “Can you get me out?” he asks Song.

Song crouches down and examines the lock.

“Where you going?” I ask, joining Silas at the door.

“The zip came back, but Quinn wasn’t at dinner. Neither were Bea or Jazz,” he says. “I’m going to look for them. I want to know what’s going on.”

“You’re determined to get us in trouble,” Dorian says.

“Well, I’m sorry if I’m the only one who gives a crap about them,” Silas says.

“Hey!” I push him. If anyone’s worried about Quinn and Bea, it’s me; I know them better than anyone, and I’m the one who got them wrapped up in this mess to begin with. “I’m coming with you,” I say.

“Lemme help,” Maude says, springing up from the bed. She roots around in her hair and hands Song a pin. He straightens it out and sticks into the lock. We all watch and wait, and after a few minutes the lock clicks.

But Song isn’t the one who’s opened it. Wren, the girl we met at dinner with the icy eyes and headscarf, stands in the doorway. She’s carrying a heavy load of red fabric over her arm.

“I come bearing gifts,” she says, stepping into the cabin and throwing the folds of fabric onto my bunk. We gather around. She lifts up one and shakes open a long, red robe with snaps down the front. “For the ceremony. One size fits all.” She offers one to each of us. Maude and Bruce watch carefully. We haven’t told them about the Pairing Ceremony.

“Am I finally being made a dame? If so, I’d like to request a transfer to the royal chambers and a servant to do my gardening for me,” Maude says. “Also, I need a foot rub.”

Wren looks down at Maude’s knotted feet, frowns, and passes her a robe. “For you,” she says.

Maude beams and slips the robe straight over her head. Silas and I share a glance. If they’ve been invited, then it can’t just be about breeding.

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