Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
“Maybe. I dunno. I don’t want anything we need to cook.”
“Rations are your only choice then, friend. But there’s a new brand out. Made for city adventurers.” He pans a hand through the air in a dramatic arc as he says these last two words. Like he’s selling me on the romantic idea of luxury camping. “How about those?”
“Fine. I’ll take those. Plus a phone.”
“No problem. I’ll take care of it. It will be delivered within the hour.”
I wait as he fills out a debit note and slides it across the desk. I sign it, and push it back. “See ya later.” I stand up and turn to leave, but then I stop. “Hey. Have you seen Anneeta today?”
Rodge shakes his head. “No. She hasn’t been up here at all.”
“All right. If you do see her, tell her I’m looking for her.”
“Will do.”
I leave the store and hit the stairs. I want to find Anneeta just to see if she’s got anything to say about last night, but I’m not walking all the way down to the ground for that. Not after I just paid a premium for my order. So I go back up to ten.
When I open the door to my quarters, I find Clara sitting on the bed, slipping on her shoes. Which I just now notice are more like fancy slippers.
She stands up as I take a good look at her. That long blonde hair of hers is wet and tangled, the t-shirt hangs off her like a flour sack, and the pants are so long, they’re bunched up at her ankles.
When I meet her gaze, she sighs and appears uncomfortable, self-consciously looking down at herself, then back up at me.
“Looks good,” I lie.
She smiles. “I look ridiculous. But I feel much better. So thank you.”
“Well, those are some very nice manners you have there, Miss Birch.” I pause here, wondering… “Is it ‘miss?’” Which gets me thinking about what Rodge said. Her being one of those. Meaning one of those modern women who don’t think being a wife is a job.
I have maybe spent thirty seconds of my whole life wondering about the gender roles of women, so my curiosity kinda surprises me.
“It is ‘miss.’ But I was engaged before all this tower stuff happened. Well, practically. We had three more months before my duty was up.”
Some of her ramblings last night come back to me now. “Duty. As a Maiden.”
She nods. “That’s right. I was Maiden number nine.”
I walk over to the chair by the window and sit. The shutters are still open, so there is a spray of unfamiliar golden light shining through the metal louvers, giving the place a cozier feeling than it normally has.
She reaches back, gathers her wet hair into a ponytail, then ties it into a knot on top of her head. After that, there’s nothing but silence between us.
It gets awkward quick.
“You don’t believe me?”
My shoulders shrug up. “You claim to come from another time. Or… another land. And you were sent here as a sacrifice to a god that doesn’t live in this tower. Hasn’t lived in this tower for hundreds of years. So… your story makes no sense, Clara. What am I supposed to think?”
She stares at me for a few seconds, her face very serious. “I understand. But your story doesn’t make sense to me, either. I wasn’t at a party. I mean, I was, but…” Her brows knit together and she sighs, then sits down on the edge of the bed and falls back, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before trying again. “I was at a party, but it was in my own Tau City. The ruins out there were towers. One on either side of the god’s tower. It was an Extraction party. I was the Maiden being Extracted. My boyfriend”—she turns her head a little to look at me—“is in charge of the Extraction.”
“What’s that mean, exactly? He is the one who sent you through the door?”
She nods, but doesn’t say anything.
“Well, he’s a keeper, isn’t he?”
I catch her smiling. “I was very pissed off when I walked through that door.”
“I can imagine.”
“He insisted that there was nothing he could do because if the Maidens are not sent into the tower after the bells ring, the god will compel all the ones in waiting too. And the Little Sisters. And ‘are you that kind of person, Clara?’” Her voice changes here. Like she’s imitating her man. But she doesn’t answer herself.
“Well? Were ya?”
She turns on her side, propping her head up with her elbow. “What do you think? I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yeah. Well, he could’ve just picked you up and tossed you through.”
Her eyes dart down, like she’s checking me out, then quickly flick up to meet my gaze. “Is that what you would’ve done? If you were Extraction Master?”