Clutching her mother’s hand—for her mother’s reassurance more than her own—they made their way back to the city square. Dela’s father followed, even quieter than usual, and though he didn’t say as much, Dela knew he was worried about the results of The Choosing, too.
The streets seemed ten times busier than they had been only an hour earlier. Everyone was moving in the same direction, and they were caught up in the flow, hurrying to stay afoot. Falling down with this many people around would most likely only get you trampled.
The narrow streets opened onto the square. Dela let out a breath, taking in the vast expanse of heads and bodies. She craned her neck, trying to spot Layla. Was her friend here yet? She wondered if she’d recognize any of the names called this time. It would be a terrifying but amazing thing to leave the city walls and head up through the Southern Pass to meet other races. Dela had never properly met someone of another race. She’d caught glimpses of them, and seen paintings, but that was all. Would they be horrifying? Would the Norcs be as brutish as they were rumored to be, the Elvish be as devious, and the Moerians as uncivilized? She’d heard the stories, just as anyone growing up in Anthoinia had, but to come face to face with them would be something else entirely.
Not that such a thing would happen to her. Her brother had already been called, and the chances of another member of her family going would be thousands to one.
Was that a dip of disappointment she felt?
Immediately, guilt flooded through her. Her brother had died doing such a trip, and she was thinking of it as an adventure, a way to escape her parents’ home and this city, and see the world outside. She shook her head at herself. How selfish she was.
A pair of blue eyes locked with hers over the crowds, and Dela pulled herself from her thoughts and lifted her hand in a wave. Layla was standing a little way off, surrounded by her numerous brothers and sisters, so many Dela often got them mixed up or forgot their names.
From the direction of the platform, a horn suddenly sounded, and Dela jumped. Around her, the crowd fell quiet, only people coughing and distant dogs barking disrupting the now fraught silence.
It was time.
Layla threw her a thumbs up sign, and Dela gave her a tight smile in return.
The horn blew out a melody, and, from the castle above, King and Queen Crowmere began to descend, walking the vast stairway that led down to the city square below. The massive gates opened, and they stepped through. The king and queen were both in their thirties now and were yet to produce children—something people were starting to question in private, but would never dare to do so in public.
A murmur rose around the crowd, people commenting on how beautiful Queen Crowmere was, with her waist length, shiny dark hair, and how handsome the king, with his full beard and broad shoulders.
It was hardly surprising. Dela thought almost anyone would look amazing with that amount of finery on their bodies. The queen was dripping with jewels—huge gold necklaces around her neck—and her fingers must have been so heavy with all the jewels Dela was surprised she could even hold her hand up to offer them a wave. Many of those jewels would have been acquired during the Passover. It seemed strange to Dela how they gave away food, causing some of the city to suffer and starve, in order to get their hands on yet more precious gems when it seemed to her that they had quite enough. She understood the races on the other sides of their lands weren’t as fortunate to be blessed with their climate and crops, and so this was the only thing they had to trade, but Dela didn’t believe it was all done out of the goodness of their hearts.
King and Queen Crowmere wouldn’t be leading The Choosing, but were always present during. The head of the City Guard—a man in his forties, with a massive black beard, called Philput Glod—had that responsibility. And, from the way his smile stretched from ear to ear, Dela thought he probably enjoyed the task, too.
“Welcome to The Choosing,” he boomed over the crowd. “Twice a year, at the changing of the seasons, we gather here to learn who will be the next Chosen. Those Chosen will embark on a mission to not only provide those less fortunate than ourselves with grain to feed their families, but also to return with coal to keep our furnaces stoked, and with gold and jewels to ensure our city remains wealthy. This time is called the Passover, and is what keeps our glorious country of Xantearos at peace. Those Chosen are honored to be serving their city.”
Glod pulled out a scroll, and, as he unraveled it, read out the names.
Her mother’s hand tightened around Dela’s as names were announced. With each one, there came a gasp of shock or a cry of surprise. It was a mixture of congratulations and commiserations, depending on the situation. For young men, as Ridley had been, this was supposed to be a time for them to prove themselves.
“Layla Buckley,” Glod called out.
Dela’s heart stopped, and she swung around to look in the direction she’d last seen her friend. No, not Layla. Layla stood with her hand to her mouth, her blue eyes wide and round with shock.
The names continued to be called out. Dela barely heard them, thinking instead about how her best friend would be leaving tomorrow for several weeks. She had to come back. She had to. Dela didn’t think she could cope with losing her as well.
She tried to focus on the other names being called. She recognized a couple—an older man, Wayneguard Norton, and another male a little older than she was, who’d been at school with Ridley.
“Dela Stonebridge,” the Guard called out.
Dela felt as though someone had punched her in the chest. Beside her, her mother let out a cry and fell into her arms. Numbly, Dela hugged her, but her mind was spinning. Had she really just heard that? Had he called out her name?
“It’s okay, Mama.” She patted Johanna’s back. “I’ll be okay. I’ll have Layla with me.”
“I can’t do this again,” her mother sobbed. “I just can’t.”
Her father stepped in. “She has to, Johanna. She has no choice. You know what happens to absconders.”
Those who tried to run from their duties would be tracked down. They were apprehended and beheaded on the same platform the names were being announced from now. It was a way of making sure everyone knew what would happen to them if they absconded from their job.
Tears streamed down her mother’s face, and Dela desperately wished there was something she could do to take them away. But this was out of her hands. Short of claiming she was pregnant—which she most certainly wasn’t—or dropping dead, she’d be going with everyone else to leave for the Passover tomorrow.
“I need to speak with Layla,” she managed, still in a daze. Her friend would understand how she was feeling. It was a small relief, but at least they’d be together. Of course, it also gave Dela someone else to worry about—another person she cared about being taken by The Choosing. There were dangers along the way, but sometimes people simply weren’t healthy enough to make it there and back again. The journey to the foothills of the mountains was an easy enough trip, but once the group started to ascend into the Great Dividing Range, through the Southern Pass, things could go wrong very quickly. Dangers lay in all directions. If timings were done badly, and either the white cloud descended, or the west wind blew, they might lose everyone.
The other races on the Western coast did things differently. Where Anthoinia saw it a case of safety in numbers, the other folk sent their most fierce warriors.
But that was how things had always been done.
The Eastern coast of their lands was rich in agriculture, with a more temperate climate, which the humans had always reigned over. And the Western coast was rich in minerals—coal needed to keep the furnaces of the Eastern coast burning. To prevent either parts of the lands and its people from struggling, it made sense to exchange goods twice a year. Of course, the Western coast could grow a few crops, and the Eastern coast could cut down trees, but it wasn’t enough to live sustainably. This way of doing things had been happening ever since the Treaty had been put into place, and nothing was going to change now. If they lost a few people during the journey, it was almost to be expected. The mountain passes were the only ways to reach either coast of Xantearos, other than navigating the entire coast, which was even more treacherous, and would take months, or else to go by sea. The sea held its own dangers, with rough storms and sea monsters that could drag a ship down with a single tentacle. And no one went to the Northernmost point of Xantearos. The Northernmost point was called Drusga, which translated as Valley of the Dragons, and was made up of volcanoes and hot pools, and was rumored to be the place where the dragons used to live. Of course, dragons hadn’t been seen for hundreds of years, and no one was crazy enough to want to go to Drusga and find out if rumors of their demise were true.
No, the Southern Pass, though with its dangers, was without doubt the safest option.
Her mother released her hand, though Dela sensed her reluctance, and Dela pushed her way through the crowds to where Layla was surrounded by her many siblings, each hugging and kissing her. Her friend spotted her approaching and pushed her brothers and sisters out of the way to open her arms for her. Dela fell into them, and they held each other tight.
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“Oh, by the Gods, Dela. I can’t believe we’ve both been chosen.”
“I know. I know.” She unfolded herself from her friend’s arms to look into her face. “At least we’ll be together.”
They locked eyes, and Layla nodded, tears shimmering in their blue depths. “Yes, at least we’ll be together.”
“So, what happens now?” Dela asked.
Layla glanced back at the platform, where the City Guard was rolling up his scroll, and the king and queen were being ushered back into the safety of their castle. “We have tonight, and then we leave at first light.”
***
Dela woke early the following morning, before the sun had begun to rise. Her mother had cried into the early hours, while Dela had lain in bed, a strange mixture of fear and excitement swirling inside her.
She’d barely slept, and, when she had, her sleep had been filled with vivid but confusing dreams of soaring across a night sky, the world a dark and empty space beneath her.
She didn’t want to feel the excitement. It felt like a betrayal to both her mother and Ridley. She shouldn’t be excited doing something that had brought death to her family. Yet the idea of getting beyond the city walls and seeing something of their country set her pulse racing. What would it be like out there? They were always told that the walls had been built for their own safety, to keep out the wild creatures that roamed in the lands, but now she was being sent out into them.
Like most of the people who lived in Anthoinia, Dela didn’t own much. She had the clothes she’d worn the previous day for The Choosing, and a second near identical outfit. Moving as quietly as possible, she set about gathering her few possessions and stuffing them into a bag which would strap across her shoulders. Meals would be provided along the way—after all, they’d be traveling with numerous carts filled with food. It wasn’t as though they’d be able to starve the people tasked with delivering them. They’d be given a ration of water, but would also be expected to find water along the way, presumably when they set up camp for the night.
That same thrill of exhilaration shot through her again. She’d be sleeping under the stars, unprotected from whatever else lived in the kingdom. Her hand went to her dagger. She thought she’d be grateful to have the blade on her, and wondered if Layla had something similar. If she didn’t, Dela would see if they could swing by the blacksmiths before they left and pick her up something to protect herself with.
All of the people called in The Choosing were due to meet back at the city square at daybreak. It was almost that time now, but the idea of waking her mother to say goodbye made her feel wretched. A part of her was tempted to just kiss her mother’s cheek and sneak away before she woke, but though it would be easier on her, she didn’t want her mother to be even more upset that they’d not had a proper goodbye.
Instead, she crouched at her bedside, in much the same way as she’d done the previous morning, and shook Johanna awake.
She woke with a start. “Is it time?”
“Yes, Mama. I have to go.”
She moved to swing her legs out of bed, but Dela’s hand on her arm stopped her. “You don’t need to come, Mama. It will be easier if I do this alone.”
Johanna stared into her face, her eyes shiny with tears, her jaw tight, her lips pressed together. Dela knew she was trying to hold it together for her sake, and she loved her mother even more for it.
“I’ll come back, Mama. It will just be a matter of time.”
She reached in and hugged her mother tight.
Her father had woken by this time, so she leaned in and kissed his hairy cheek.
“You can take care of yourself. I know you can.” His gruff voice cracked, and she appreciated the small show of emotion from him. It must be hard. She knew her father loved her, and while her mother was allowed to cry her tears, men simply weren’t allowed to show emotion in their society.
“I will. I’m tough, Pops. You know that.”
“’Course I do. We’ll see you when you return, okay?”
She nodded, tears of her own threatening, and a painful lump constricting her throat. Dela didn’t want to lose it, knowing it would only make things harder. She remembered their goodbyes to Ridley the morning he’d left, how, even though they knew it was possible he might not return, they hadn’t really believed he wouldn’t. They’d even joked and jested with each other, telling him not to go getting himself eaten by any monsters. Ridley had been excited about going, and though there was an undercurrent of worry, they’d been proud of him, too. He was a man, taking on the world. He’d taken off the ring he always wore—the one with the shiny black stone with a thread of red running through it—and pressed it into her palm. “Take care of this for me, Sis,” he said. “I want it back when I return.” She’d kissed him and promised she would. But when only a small part of the convoy returned, their lives had been thrown into the black hole of knowing he was gone and he wasn’t ever coming back.
This was different now. There was the very real possibility of the same thing happening again, and she didn’t know how her parents would be able to cope if they were left completely alone. What was the point in continuing if you lost both of your children? The world would be empty and meaningless. At least in death, there was the possibility they would be together again, assuming Ridley didn’t do something that condemned his soul to the underworld before he died.
Unable to speak, knowing that doing so would reduce her to tears, she secured the pack containing her few possession on her shoulder and turned to leave what had been her home for the past twenty years. Feeling her parents’ eyes on her, she glanced over her shoulder, and then lifted her hand in a wave. Her lower lip trembled as her mother clutched her father and sobbed on his shoulder. She wanted to tell Johanna it would be all right, promise her that she’d return, but they all knew it was a promise she might not be able to keep.
As her footsteps took her through the narrow streets where she’d grown up, putting space between her and the house, a part of Dela’s soul grew lighter. She wasn’t happy to leave her parents— far from it—but she felt the responsibility of being the remaining child like a backpack weighing her down.
From the homes she passed, people peeped out.
They called out to her, “Good luck.”
“May the Gods bless your journey.”
“Winds speed to you!”
She wasn’t someone who’d ever liked attention before, but their well-wishes made her stand taller, her shoulders back. The children whispered behind their hands, their eyes widening with awe.
Dela hadn’t asked for this—none of the Chosen had—but she still felt special in that moment.
She stepped into the open area of the city square and glanced up at the castle towering over them. How were King and Queen Crowmere feeling that morning? Did they give any thought to the twenty souls being forced beyond the city walls? Or were they still sleeping peacefully, not a single troubled thought in their heads to wake them?
Across the other side of the square, Dela spotted Layla. She was talking to the man who’d been in Ridley’s year at school. She recognized a couple of other people, too. An older man in his fifties with a good beard of silver and solid shoulders, who she believed was called Norton, and a couple of men around the ages of thirty years, too. She was relieved to see that she and Layla appeared to be the youngest of those Chosen this half-year. It was difficult for everyone involved when someone who had only recently passed their sixteenth year was Chosen. Though legally they were adults, it was hard for people not to still view them as a child, especially for the family involved. To be called up during The Choosing on the very first time you were eligible to enter was very unlucky indeed.
Layla spotted her and ran over. The two women clutched each other tightly, knowing exactly how the other one was feeling without having to say a word. They had each other, and that was something, at least.
“The carts are already outside the city walls,” Layla said. “We’ll be heading out shortly.”
Dela surveyed the small crowd. “Is this everyone?”
She was asking more than she was saying—had anyone absconded? But Layla nodded. “Yes, I think so.”
“Good.”
The last thing she needed her parents to have to see was one of their own decapitated in the square because they’d tried to get out of their duties.
A couple of the men, including the older one, strolled over.
“Dela Stonebridge,” he said, putting his hand out to her. “You think you’re ready for this?”
She shook the offered hand, making sure her grip was as firm as his. “As ready as anyone else here,” she said. Because she was young and female didn’t automatically make her weak or incapable. “It’s Borton, isn’t it?” she asked, deliberately getting his name wrong.
He dropped her hand and cleared his throat. “Norton. Wayneguard Norton.”
She exchanged a secret smile with Layla “Ah, yes, of course. My apologies.”
“Hey, Dela,” the younger man who’d known Ridley said. His name was Brer Stidrisk, if she remembered correctly. “How are you feeling about all of this? It can’t be easy, what with Ridley …”
He trailed off, apparently unsure what to say.
“No, it isn’t, Brer, but we’ll get through it. Thank you.”
He ducked his head, the moment of compassion apparently making him uncomfortable.
Philput Glod, the head of the City Guard appeared on the same platform he’d made the announcements from the previous day.
“Welcome, everyone!” he called across the small crowd. “You have the honor this half-year to meet the other races—the Norcs, Moerians, and Elvish—for the Passover. We are not expecting you to come across any trouble, but, to be prepared, if you do not have a weapon of your own, please help yourself to something you will be able to manage.” He gestured to a small pile of swords and knives off to one side.
Subconsciously, Dela’s hand went to the hilt of her dagger. It may not be large, but she knew how to handle it, and she hoped that would be enough to defend herself and others if need be.
“Food and water has been provided for the first few days,” he continued. “After that time, you will be expected to find water sources along the way, and you may wish to hunt to provide yourselves with fresh meat or fish.”
“You ever hunted anything?” Layla asked Dela out of the side of her mouth, keeping her voice down.
“Only mice when they come into the house,” she replied with a smirk.
Glod’s raised voice drowned them out. “You will be provided with bedding rolls, and canvas to sleep beneath, and you will be responsible for their safe return. Is that understood?”
“He’s more worried about the bedding rolls’ safe return than ours,” Dela murmured to her friend, and Layla covered a snort of laughter with her hand.
“Finally,” he called out, “we wish that the grace of the Gods be with you.”
That signaled the end of his speech, and everyone got moving, gathering what they needed to take with them. Dela was happy with her dagger, but Layla approached the pile of weapons with caution. She wasn’t used to being armed, and Dela could tell by the twisting of her lips that her friend didn’t know where to start.
Layla reached down for a sword, but Dela’s hand on her arm stopped her.
“Go for something smaller,” she suggested. “The sword will be too heavy for you to wield, and it will weigh you down during the walk.”
Layla gave her friend a grateful smile, and selected a dagger similar in size to Dela’s instead. It wasn’t made from the same steel as Dela’s dagger, so was still heavier, but the weapon was better suited to Layla’s hand.
Dela hoped neither of them would need to use the weapons.
Glod led the way, guiding them from the city square, through the roads of Anthoinia. A few people stood on the sides of the streets, clapping and patting their backs as they passed by, as though they were knights off to war.
The motley crew of the Chosen shuffled their way forward, navigating the lanes toward where the Great Gates barred the city from the lands outside. Through the gates waited a convoy of carts containing the hundreds of sacks of grains which they’d be exchanging with the other races in return for minerals.
Dela’s stomach began to churn. This was it.
Before them all, the Great Gates creaked open.