The Young Elites by Marie Lu

Author:Marie Lu
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-10-06T21:00:00+00:00

When the world was young, the gods and goddesses birthed the angels, Joy and Greed, Beauty and Empathy and Sorrow, Fear and Fury, sparks of humanity. To feel emotion, therefore, to be human,

is to be a child of the gods.

—The Birth of the Angels, various authors

Adelina Amouteru

The storm finally passes, leaving a devastated Estenzia

in its path—broken roof shingles, flooded temples, wrecked ships, the dead and dying. As people flock to the temples, others gather in Estenzia’s squares. Teren leads the largest of these gatherings. I can see it all the way from the Fortunata Court’s balconies.

“We let a malfetto win the qualifying races,” he calls out, “and look at how the gods have punished us. They are angry with the abominations that we allow to walk among us.” People listen in grim silence. Others start to shout along, raising their fists in response. Behind Teren are three young malfettos—one of them barely out of childhood. Probably dug them out of the city’s ghettos. They are tied together to a stake erected in the center of the square, and their mouths are gagged. Their feet are hidden in the midst of a pile of wood. A pair of priests flank them, lending their silent approval.

Teren lifts the torch in his hands. The firelight casts an orange hue across his pale irises. “These malfettos are accused of being Elites, for being among those that attacked Inquisitors during the races. The Inquisition has found them guilty. It is our duty to send them back to the Underworld, to keep our city safe.”

He throws the torch onto the pile of wood. The malfettos disappear, screaming, behind curtains of fire.

“From this day on,” Teren calls out above the sound of the flames, “all malfetto families and shops will pay a double tax to the crown, as reparations for the bad fortune they bring upon our society. Refusal will be seen as reasonable cause for suspicion of working with the Young Elites. Offenders will be detained immediately.”

I can’t see the Daggers from here, but I know they are watching the burning from the roofs. I know that right now Dante is notching arrows to his bow, getting ready to put each of the malfettos out of their misery. I try not to dwell on why they don’t risk saving them.

The next day, an angry mob tears down a malfetto family’s shop. Broken glass litters the streets.

My lessons speed up.

Enzo takes me under his tutelage, coming to the court late at night or early in the morning. Not until Gemma whispers it to me do I learn that Enzo has never trained anyone like this before. Her words are meant to be encouraging, but all I can do is lie awake at night, dreading the moment when I will have to see Teren again.

To hone my illusion skills, Enzo calls on Michel, the Architect. “Ridiculous,” Michel says during our first session together. He brings the painter’s eye, and his painter’s eye critiques my work. “You call this a rose? The shadows are all wrong.

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