Page 35 of The Heart Trials

“The Benevolent didn’t do it like that years before,” she continues. “The idea is to narrow down the group fast to the contestants who really want to be here.”

A chill slips down my spine. He’s already watching me. I have to be above reproach. The perfect candidate. I have to get fingerprints. I scan the hall again, and spot the girl who entered the tournament in the Gardens for extra rations. “Sounds like you know plenty of the Grainfolk here?” I ask Mae.

“Many hands means fewer blisters.” She stretches her gloved fingers. “It doesn’t take much for us to get together.”

“Like who?”

She points at a strong-looking fellow who is sitting alone, hunched over his plate, mechanically shoveling food inside his mouth. Cropped blond hair falls around his light eyes. His face is sharp and worn, carved with lines that can’t be explained by just age. Art is drawn all over his fair skin. Among the markings is a face with the Ethyrian flag painted over it.

“That’s Kade,” Mae says. “You know how Mercyenforcers were not always Skyborn?”

“Yes.”

“He was one of them.”

Years ago, Miss Omon helped me fall asleep with stories of Saltbloods joining the old military drafts. Back then, Mercyenforcers were recruited from all the districts. Anyone fifteen years or older. But Saltblood men and women were the fiercest, she would say, weathered by the grit and iron will that it takes to survive the seaside storms and harsh conditions of the district. Skyborn Mercyenforcers were scared of them. I don’t know how true that is. But after the Redwake rebellion, the Benevolent closed the draft to everyone but Skyborn.

“I heard that Kade turned over a bunch of suspected rebels,” Mae whispers, watching the weathered blond contestant. “When they purged their ranks of lowborn guards, he expected to be brought here to Skyhaven. He’d packed up his things and was waiting for a transport to arrive. He was convinced he’d be given Skyborn citizenship for being so loyal. He stood outside, waiting, for four days. No one came. People say he hasn’t spoken much or been seen much since. Grainfolk hated him for turning over rebel families like that. We still do.”

Kade finishes his plate but doesn’t get up for more food. He would die for a chance to find a true-love match? I don’t believe it for a second. His chin slides over his shoulder like he can hear my thoughts. I look away.

Mae slips a berry into her mouth, and I realize my stomach is angry with me. I bite into the muffin and my mouth waters at all its flavor. I take another bite faster, and another, nipping my finger by accident. When my plate is empty, I press my finger into the crumbs and eat every single one.

“There’s more.” Mae nods to the food table.

“I’m fine.”

She presses a shaking hand to her sternum again, like something hurts deep inside. The Heartfillers, I realize. Her body is craving them.

“It’s all so exciting. What are you looking for in a love match?” She crosses her legs. The food I inhaled threatens to come back up.

“Uhm.” My heart knocks against my ribs.

“I knew I was entering the tournament when I made eleven years,” Mae says dreamily.

“How could you possibly know that?”

“How could I not? They say a kiss can be so special between two people in love with each other that it can take away desires for Heartfillers forever. Can you imagine? My mother overdosed on Heartfillers when I was a babe. So I grew up in a tenement with my aunt. I don’t think that woman ever wanted to be a wife or mother. She ignored me my entire life. I think it’s because she never found someone that made her happy.

“My father works the same fields as me, so once I was working age, we spent every day together. And that made every day so much better. He always says if you have a chance to make something better for yourself with someone to take it. If I could have a person brighten my days like that—for the rest of my life—why wouldn’t I want that? And if I can have that, I don’t want a taste of it. I want to experience all of it. I want to watch the stars together with our skin touching. I want all the fuzzy feelings people whisper about.”

I remember Serafina going on and on about all the rumors about the tournament she’d heard from her schoolmates. But if they need waivers and licenses, they’re not free here either, really. But I keep my brooding to myself.

“I spent the years getting efficient at seed sowing and weeding, so that I could spend my extra time learning all I could about how love works. The books say it’s better than the strongest Heartfiller.” She bats her lashes. “I hope my truest-love match is tall. Or maybe if not tall, just really funny, you know?” She whispers, “I want to laugh, a lot.” She’s not looking at me anymore; she is playing with her hair, daydreaming. Her chest doesn’t glow. She didn’t take the extra Heartfiller. This is pure hope, and part of me envies it. I hope she gets all she’s looking for.

I scope out the others, wondering how I’m going to get fifteen fingerprints by the end of today. They have to be breeding options, the instructions say, so that rules out Mae and I swapping prints, even if to just help each other out. Breakfast is half over. My stomach argues with me.

“I think I am going to get more.” I leave her there and cross the room to the food table, where a short line has re-formed. Curious eyes follow me. I should look at them, talk to them, ask for their fingerprints. But I’ve only just worked up the courage to eat more Skyborn food. One step at a time.

When I get to the line, I stand behind two men in a heated conversation, eavesdropping to see if either of them could be an option for me. One is a broad-shouldered man with dark brown skin, bronzed and sun-kissed. His long locks of hair are tied back in a ponytail ornamented with gold rings. He speaks with quiet intensity, choosing his words precisely.

“Ronan, that doesn’t make sense,” he says to a clean-shaven guy with short dark hair and golden tanned skin.

Ronan responds too low for me to hear. But I catch that the other guy’s name is Finn. Ronan and Finn. They argue like brothers but don’t look anything alike. Both Grainfolk by the looks of their clothes. The line shuffles forward, and I catch the dregs of their disagreement over planting a shadeleaf next to a sunthistle.

Mae appears behind me as they walk off, plates loaded with cured meats. “That’s Ronan—”

“And Finn, I overheard.”