The Young Elites

That’s all he has time to say. I look up to the roofs. And I see Dante crouched there, arrow nocked, staring at both of us through his mask.

A rush of sapphire robes strikes Teren, knocking him to the ground and releasing me from his clutches. I stumble against the wall. Before me is a tangle of white and blue—Teren shoves a Dagger off him and rolls up onto his feet. The two face each other. It’s Enzo, face hidden behind his silver mask, daggers in hand.

“The Reaper!” Teren exclaims, pointing his crossbow straight at Enzo and pulling out his sword. “Always coming to the rescue of malfettos, aren’t you?”

Enzo’s blades turn bright red, then white hot. He lunges at Teren before he can fire his crossbow, then strikes, seeking out his eyes. Teren dodges him with a fluidity that shocks me. He swings his sword in an arc—it almost catches Enzo in the chest before he darts out of the way. Fire bursts from Enzo’s hands and consumes the two of them in a haze of light. Through the inferno, I can see Teren locked blade on blade with Enzo.

The flames don’t harm him. His skin seems to burn for an instant, then return back to normal, smooth and untouched. I freeze at the sight. It is not just a trick of the light—the flames do not harm him at all.

How is that possible? Unless—

“Go!” Enzo snaps at me. Their blades clash with a ring of steel. Again and again. Overhead, an arrow sails down and strikes Teren near his neck. He grunts in pain—but then, to my horror, he reaches up and yanks it out unceremoniously. He tosses it away. His skin stitches itself together, healing in seconds, until I see nothing but a smear of blood on his neck.

Teren is a Young Elite.

I find my feet and make a run for it. When I glance up, I catch sight of Lucent with her bow and arrow locked on Teren, trying to find a good shot.

A rough hand clamps down on my arm. I turn and stare right into the silver mask of a Dagger.

Dante. “How about you cloak us in invisibility and get us out of here.” There is something in his voice that chills me. Something in his eyes that tells me he saw more tonight than I wanted him to see.

All around us is screaming, panic, people, the roar of a firework-fueled inferno raging at the harbor. I force myself to do as Dante says. I cloak us in a hurried illusion of invisibility, and he leads us away in the direction of the closest catacomb entrance. Behind us, Enzo has already vanished, disappearing as quickly as he’d come. Teren’s voice rings in my ears.

Three days.

They were the best of friends as long as they did not know

they were supposed to be enemies. The truth would do its

damage soon enough.

—Brothers in Fire, by Jedtare

Adelina Amouteru

Irest alone in my room.

Out in the streets, people chant for and against the king, for and against the Elites.

Maids come in to check on me, making sure I’m unharmed from the previous night, but I send them away and stay under my blankets. Every time I hear one of them approaching, I jump—it is Dante, who has figured out my betrayal and is coming to kill me. Once, I hear Enzo’s voice out in the hallway, asking a servant whether I’m all right. Gemma tries to get me to come out, but I refuse her. I lie here until the shafts of light have shifted to the other side of the room. Memories of Violetta run through my mind, tangled with all the ways Teren has promised to torture her.

I have three days. Three days of time, before I either tell the Daggers the truth or betray them entirely.

I linger on the way Teren’s skin stitched itself together after Dante’s arrow tore through his shoulder. Teren is an Elite hell-bent on killing other Elites, on killing malfettos altogether. I turn the thought over and over in my head, unable to make sense of it. No wonder Enzo didn’t even try attacking Teren on my execution day. No wonder they have not targeted Teren earlier. How can an Elite turn on his own kind?

Through my shock, I feel a sinking despair. If even the Daggers cannot hurt Teren, then what chance do I have?

Raffaele is the only one who finally pulls me out of my thoughts. He comes to my door at sunset. “You’re awake,” he says gently. “Come. Get dressed and follow me.”

I have a sudden urge to tell Raffaele everything—Teren’s threats, his stranglehold on my sister, what he has offered. You could get the others to help me right now. We could do a mission together, to save my sister. But each time I think this, I hesitate. They are intent on seizing the throne. An attempt to free Violetta from the Inquisition’s clutches is a significant and dangerous detour. Do they care enough about me already to risk their entire mission? Besides, I have no idea where my sister is. Teren could kill Violetta before any of us gets to her in time.

Raffaele watches me carefully. I hope he can’t predict why my energy is shifting so much. I open my mouth, and out comes a harmless phrase. “Is it time?”

At my expression, he nods. “Yes, it’s time.”

A lump lodges in my throat. I’d looked forward to this day. Now I’m not so sure.

He starts to turn away, then pauses and looks back at me. “I know last night was frightening for you,” he says. “It’s all right, mi Adelinetta. No one will hold it against you.”

He thinks I feel this way because of yesterday’s killings, because Teren attacked me. He doesn’t know what Teren said to me. I nod in silence beside him, then keep my gaze turned down.

We make our way through the now-familiar corridors, then head out into the courtyard and down toward the cavern. Neither of us says a word.

Finally, we step into the cavern. For only the second time, I see all the Daggers gathered. The only one missing is Enzo. His absence sends a spike of panic through me. He’s probably at his royal estates, or gathering his patrons. Or . . . what if Teren has discovered his identity? What if the Inquisition is after him right now?