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I swallowed my fear and kissed him.
His mouth met mine, and he returned the kiss with the greedy ferocity of a man on the precipice of death. Statistically, he’d have no issues during the Race, and we’d see each other in a few weeks. But things don’t always work out as planned, and I did not want him to leave without showing him how I felt.
I gave myself to him wholly that night, right there in the meadow. Years of friendship, of stolen glances and hands brushing against one another. We’d never shared our feelings for each other in words. I was desperate to be closer to him, to take advantage of our time together before he left for the Race.
As we lay together, I hoped in the deepest parts of my soul that I would hear from villagers that he was in the winner’s ceremony that year. I tried to push thoughts of him being marked as expendable out of my mind, but I just couldn’t.
There was never an expendable ceremony. The Coalition of Lowlanders, who represented us to the fae, argued to the Patricians that it would be too tough on morale for us to see those we loved put down as if they were worthless. Every year after the winner’s ceremony, the participants would march back down the Summit to their homes and count their loved ones and neighbors. In good years, only the designated number of expendables, which has been thirty for years now, went missing. In bad years, so many more would be gone.
One horrible year, when it rained the entire Race, we lost sixty-three Lowlanders. The time after the Race is always solemn, but that year was dark.
Ultimately, no one ever knew if those who went missing during the Race fell to the elements or were expendable, but did it really matter? Either way, they were dead.
That’s what I was told when Link didn’t return from the Race.
My heart hardened that day when all the citizens of Krillium returned, worn out and bloodied, and he was not among them. I begged for answers from everyone in his pod. I cried to Max, who was supposed to be with him in the Race that year, to tell me what happened. She said he left in the middle of the night, and she finished the Race alone, a mirror of what my parents would do to me.
What makes the most sense is that he got eaten by a creature or attacked and succumbed to the elements. My logical brain knew that. But I prefer to tell myself that he found the elevator and was immediately taken to Ytopie to live a life of luxury.
It’s better for my soul that way.
Chapter 4
Viola
“Idonotunderstandwhy they’re doing this, today of all days,” I murmur under my breath to Max. She’s bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet, hands clasped over the flowy blue dress that clings to her chest.
“Because why not! No better time to have a wedding than before the Race.”
Many people throughout Krillium decide to get married shortly before the Race, and it is always here in Dalery. The town is full of people in the days and weeks leading up to the Race as citizens from around the land congregate near the starting point. This unique gathering allows those with far-reaching families to see members we would otherwise be unable to see.
Would I have married Link had he survived the Race?
That type of thinking is a weakness, and I shove it down as soon as it crops up. What’s the point of a wedding, anyway?
Today, we’re watching two strangers get married, as if there isn’t something more important to be done this close to the Race. Max begged me to come with her, dangling the promise of food over my head.
Food is scarce in Krillium. We get to eat enough to survive, but there are rarely luxury foods like we’ve heard they have in Ytopie, except at weddings. Entire towns will come together to scrounge enough extras for the celebration.
Today’s wedding features two people from Feria, the southernmost village of Krillium. It’s a coastal community cut off from most of the continent by a rainforest. I have never seen the couple before, but they look happy. We’re here, in the city square that just yesterday was decked out for the market, surrounded by strangers eager for a shred of happiness before our journey through the Summit.
My gaze, however, is trained on the petite elderly lady stirring a large pot over a fire. Her skin is soft like well-worn leather, the concentration in her warm brown eyes evident. The smell drifting up has me completely intoxicated.
Lately, my food has been for function. I’ve never seen the point in trading for spices or vegetables. If I can’t forage it, I do without. I can fish, Hilda lays eggs, the goat gives me milk, and I know how to make cheese. I do just fine. Sometimes, it’s more than fine.
Not lately, though.
The smell of the stew is enough to make my mouth water. Max notices and elbows me in the ribs. “Keep it together until after the ceremony,” she hisses at me. A flush threatens my hairline.
I glance around the gathered crowd, narrowing my eyes. “Where is Jaz?” I whisper to Max. Jaz is someone that most could consider a friend, but to me, they were just a pod member. Max is fond of them, though.
Max looks at me, confused. “They got attacked, remember? They’re still recovering.”
“Oh shit, I forgot. Do we know what happened yet?”
Max shrugs, running her fingers through her short hair. She tamed it today, but with the amount of times she touches it, it won’t stay tame for long.
“Why does anyone get attacked before the Race? Apparently, they had managed to come up with a stockpile of dried meats to bring with them.”
