Of Beast and Beauty - Jay Stacey 27 стр.


center. These towers make mine look like a child’s toy. They are

breathlessly tall, and each one overflowing with people. The people must

live three or four to a room, at least, if the amount of laundry is anything to

judge by. Hundreds of pants and shirts and dresses and overalls and

underthings hang like uninspired flags, blocking most of the sun’s light,

drooping limply toward the street, where their owners were ordered to

assemble this morning to meet their queen and let her look upon them

with her new eyes.

I demanded that the royal gong be rung and messengers be sent

throughout the city. I insisted on walking through the city center, the better

to see my people. I would not be swayed.

Now it’s all I can do not to turn and run back to my tower. I long for

the comfort of my darkness, my ignorance. I want to go back and undo it

all. I want to be the Isra my father worked so hard to create. If only I’d

known how easy I had it in my cage, with my velvet blinders always in

place …

My scrap of blue sky vanishes, and my gaze drifts down to the street

ahead, where a woman without arms or legs sits propped in a chair beside

several little boys. A mother who can never hug her sons or hold her

babies. How did this happen?

“Are you all right?” Bo asks from his place beside me.

“No,” I whisper. “Of course not. Of course, of

tongue to the roof of my mouth, stopping the stream of babble. I can’t lose

control in front of my people. I can’t show them how unprepared I am. I

can’t be like my mother.

“The tower. My mother.” I pull in a labored breath. “That’s …

people. She had never seen a human who was not of noble blood before

she came to Yuan.” Bo’s hand is firm at the center of my back, guiding me

relentlessly onward, through the city center to what lies ahead, to what I’ve

demanded to see.

I want to twist away, to order him to keep his hands off me, but I

can’t. His touch is the only thing keeping me going. If he withdraws, I’ll stop

walking and be stranded in the middle of the nightmare.

Nightmares upon nightmares. I had the fire nightmare again this

morning, saw the woman’s mouth opening and closing in the burning

wood. But this time I listened harder, the way Gem told me to, and I would

have sworn I heard her speak. She was saying something about the

truth … about hope … something important.…

When I woke, I couldn’t remember exactly what she’d said, but I was

bursting with happiness anyway. I could see the golden miracle of the

sunrise shining through my window, the brilliant bleeding red of my quilt,

and Needle’s tightly curled smile as she brought my breakfast tray. My life

and my dreams were changing, and I was certain my city wasn’t going to be

far behind. This morning, Yuan was a riddle I was confident I could solve.

But this is … a disaster. A tragedy. Hopeless.

“Now you see why your father felt he had to take such extreme

measures,” Bo continues, increasing his pace until I have trouble keeping

up. My dress is wider at the bottom than my other dresses, but it’s tight at

the thighs. Still, I don’t complain. I don’t care if I have to wiggle and wobble

down the street like a fool. The sooner we leave the city center and all the

damage behind, the better. “He was only trying to protect you. He thought

if you remained unaware of certain truths that you would be spared your

mother’s madness. It was only after she came here that she

became … strange. She grew even worse after you were born. At first the

healers dismissed it as the sadness that sometimes comes over new

mothers, but then she began talking of going into the wilderness to speak

to the Monstrous. Father says she set the fire not long after.”

I don’t say a word, though I want to ask Bo if he knows

Father’s second wife and foreign—a noble from far away who married my

father to escape a city on the verge of collapse—but I’ve never heard

anyone speak of her expressing the desire to make contact with the

Monstrous.

When Bo first told me it was my father who had ordered the

poisoning of my tea, I nearly slapped him. I was certain he was lying. I

refused to believe that my father would steal the sight from his own

daughter, even when Junjie showed me the signed order bearing the king’s

seal. I just couldn’t believe Baba hated me that much.

Now I understand. My father didn’t hate me. He was trying to spare

me from the heartbreaking truth.

“I wanted to protect you, too,” Bo says, louder now that we’ve

reached the edge of the city center and only a few citizens kneel at the

sides of the street. “I planned for you to remain in the nobles’ village,

where the people are whole. There was no reason for you to see this

particular truth.” His hand slides around my waist, his familiar touch

becoming openly intimate, making my breakfast gurgle angrily in my

stomach.

I swallow hard and step away. “Yes, there is. I needed to know.

I … had … to …” My words dribble away as we pass by the final knot of

people.

Beyond them, the world opens up, the wide dirt road continuing on

through the fields. I want to rush ahead into that open space, but instead I

force myself to nod and smile a brittle smile at the subjects kneeling in the

grass at the edge of an orchard of bare-limbed pear trees. There are three

men and five women, all wearing orchard workers’ overalls, all with missing

parts. They are ripped pieces of a dozen different puzzles that will never fit

together, and I don’t understand it.

I don’t. I can’t … I thought …

“The Banished camp is … worse?” I whisper when we’ve finally

passed the last woman. I find little comfort in the even rows of fruit trees

on one side of the road and the perfectly ordered grape trellises on the

other. Beyond these tidy fields, at the end of this road, lies the place where

the Banished—the people deemed too grotesque to inhabit the city

center—live out their abbreviated lives.

“Far worse,” Bo confirms, hesitating at my side. “We can go back to

the great hall if you like. I can—”

“No.” I lift my chin, and move past him on stiff legs. “I need to know

the truth.”

“I can tell you the truth. Let me do that for you,” he says, hurrying to

catch up, what sounds like real compassion in his voice. He’s been

unfailingly kind this morning—like the Bo I knew before last night—but I’m

not fooled. I will never trust him. Not ever, no matter how helpful he tries

to be.

“Thank you, but no.” I pull my shawl tight around my shoulders and

aim myself toward the royal carriage waiting for us by the side of the road.

The driver is an elegant old man with silver hair, supposedly a commoner

like all noble servants, but without damaged parts—at least, none that I can

see. His defects must be hidden inside, like Needle’s. Selfishly, I’m glad of it.

I need a moment. Just a moment.

“Please, Isra.” Bo stops me with a hand on my arm. “Let me spare

you any more of this.”

“Why?” I subtly shake off his fingers as I glance back over my

shoulder, finally able to pinpoint what’s been plaguing my mind, now that I

have some distance from the city. “Why are—”

“I care about you. I told you that last night.”

“No. Not that,” I snap, unable to bear talking feelings at a time like

this. “Why are the people damaged? How has this happened? I thought the

covenant was strong.”

“The covenant is strong,” Bo says. “It’s been this way since the

beginning. You know the legend: those families who refused to sign the

covenant did not receive equal protection from its magic.”

“I thought that meant they had fewer goods, smaller houses,” I say,

voice louder than I mean it to be. “I didn’t think it meant they—”

“It means they suffered from this planet’s dark magic. They weren’t

made Monstrous, but their humanity was not preserved in the same way

that those of noble blood are preserved. They suffer from a different sort of

mutation.”

My brow wrinkles, and for the first time in more than an hour, my

thoughts begin to organize themselves. “But the Monstrous look nothing

like that. What’s happened to our people isn’t mutation. It’s … something

else.”

“Something like what?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Something …”

climbing up my throat. The thought of talking this madness through with

him gives me strength and, more important, reminds me—

“I’m not sure.” I turn back to Bo. “But perhaps the covenant will offer

some insight. I’d like it brought to my rooms this afternoon.”

He blinks as if I’ve snapped my fingers between his eyes. “The

covenant?”

“Yes, the covenant,” I say. “Have it delivered to the tower

immediately. I’ll be keeping it overnight.” That should give Needle and me

time to sneak over to see Gem.

By the moons, I can’t wait to see him, to feel his arms around me, his

chest warm and solid beneath my cheek, making the world feel steady and

possible again. Night can’t come quickly enough.

“We should go,” I say. “The driver’s waiting.”

“But …” Bo’s mouth opens and closes as I circle around him and climb

into the royal carriage for the first time in my life. I was looking forward to

the ride this morning—the wind in my hair, the fields rushing past on both

sides—but now I can’t imagine taking pleasure in simple things, not when

there is so much suffering under the dome.

“Isra, I can’t have the covenant delivered.” Bo climbs up beside me,

clearly deciding he deserves to sit in the carriage rather than ride on the

step at the back with the other guards. “It’s impossible.”

“What’s impossible?”

“The covenant was lost,” he says. “Hundreds of years ago. Not long

after King Sato died.”

“What?” I want to believe he’s lying, but he seems genuinely

confused, completely at a loss.

lost

signal for the driver to start the horses. The silver-haired man flicks his

whip, and the buggy lurches forward, throwing me back against the seat.

Bo steadies me with an arm around my shoulders. I’m too horrified to push

it away. “He died before he could tell his last wife where it was hidden.”

“But that’s …” King Sato was our third king. That means … “No one’s

read the covenant in six hundred years?” I squeak. “Or more?”

“It’s all right.” He has the nerve to smile. “Our history isn’t lost. There

are other texts that tell us all we need to know, and the sacred words

spoken at each royal wedding are engraved on a gold tablet we’ll hold

between us on the day we take our vows.” Bo pulls me closer, until I’m

wedged beneath his armpit, my spine crunched and my dress straining

across my back. “Don’t worry. The covenant is strong. The damaged people

have been that way for generations upon generations. They don’t suffer

from it the way we would. They aren’t like us.”

“Then what are they like?” I squirm free, and scoot to the other side

of the buggy.

Bo’s expression hardens at the sarcasm in my voice, but to his credit,

he maintains his patient tone. “They aren’t Monstrous, but they aren’t

human the way we are, either. They don’t know any other kind of life.

They’re happy with what they have, to be a part of our city, to be safe, fed,

and protected.”

He sounds like he’s telling the truth, but that doesn’t mean anything.

He could think he’s telling the truth—the way I did every time I assured

Gem I was tainted—and still be telling a lie. I know for a fact he’s wrong

about my people’s suffering. I could see the pain in their eyes. I could feel

the hard facts of their life weighing on me as I walked among them,

dragging me down until it felt like my feet were moving beneath the

surface of the ground.

“You said there are other texts?” I ask, brushing a lock of hair from

my face, finding no joy in the wind that whips it back into my eyes.

“There are,” he says. “Would you like me to have those delivered to

your rooms?”

“Yes, right away.” I try to feel optimistic about what I’ll learn in the

texts, but I can’t. Something deep inside insists that all I’ll find in those

writings are more lies.

I have to find the covenant. I have to discover where it was hidden so

long ago, and I can think of only one place to look for help, one thing that’s

been around for more than six hundred years and still has eyes to see.

The roses have deceived me as often as anyone else has, but tonight

I’ll make it clear that I won’t tolerate lies. They will give me what I

want—the truth and nothing but—or I will … I will …

Or I will refuse them their offering.

Even the thought is enough to make my head spin and my heart

thrash against my ribs, but I can’t help but think …

What if the stories of Gem’s people are true? If so, wouldn’t my

people be better off in the desert? Better off transformed than forced to

live with missing pieces? The nobles and soldiers and some of the

merchants are still whole, but the overwhelming majority of my people are

suffering, not thriving, under the dome.

Maybe if Yuan is abandoned, if the other domed cities are

abandoned as well … Maybe if we all go into the desert together …

Maybe I don’t have to die. Maybe Gem was right. Maybe there

entire life I have been afraid to die, but at least I thought I had something

worth dying for.

Now I have … nothing. A terrible mess I don’t know how to clean up,

and the certainty that I will find no help from those in power in this city.

The whole have beauty, pleasure, comfort, and abundance, and they’ve

convinced themselves they deserve it. Because they are more human than

the people who suffer in the city center, or the Banished in their lonely

camp, or the monsters starving in the desert.

I’ll never be able to convince them differently. Yuan will never

change, not unless I can find proof that something is wrong with the city.

The nobles are spoiled and soft and inclined to gossip, but they are not evil

people. I must convince them that Yuan is rotten at its core. I must find the

covenant and discover why it was hidden away.

BO

THE morning lasts forever. The afternoon is even longer. By the time

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