Page 31
Story: Ruling Destiny
“I know it sounds ridiculous,” I say. “Even when it’s over and you find yourself right back here, it still seems like a strange lucid dream. But it’s serious business, and the cost of screwing up can sometimes prove fatal.” My eyes plead with his, begging him to listen. “But we’re here to guide you. You don’t have to go it alone. This is how you make Blue, and once that happens your life here will drastically improve.”
“Fuck Blue,” Mason snaps. “I’m staying a Green until they’re so sick of me they send me back home.”
Normally, I’d admire his defiance. But here at Gray Wolf, I’m steeped in worry. I need to get through to him—convince him to rethink this before it’s too late.
“You wouldn’t be the first to try that,” I say. “But failing won’t get you sent home. And if you trust nothing else that I’ve said, at least try to trust that.”
Mason squares his broad shoulders, tilts his chin imperiously high. And I immediately recognize it as his go-to defense. Whenever he starts to feel foolish or small, he reminds himself—and everyone around him—just how much space he’s capable of commanding.
“Look, I know you hate me.” I shrug. “And you probably hate Arthur and Gray Wolf and pretty much everything having to do with this place…”
Mason says nothing, just waits for whatever comes next.
“And while I’m sorry to confirm that your old life is gone forever, that doesn’t mean you can’t build another one here. One that just might surprise you.”
I search Mason’s face, looking for a sign that I might’ve gotten through. But he may as well be wearing a mask. He gives nothing away.
Wait—wearing a mask!
I remember how Jago told me that, as a new Tripper, wearing a mask makes it easier to blend. But none of us are wearing one. And a quick look around tells me none are on offer.
I guess Arthur really is throwing Mason into the deep end. And dragging all of us along with him.
Not to mention how Arthur’s not even bothering to see him off. Another look around confirms that our benefactor is nowhere in sight, but Roxanne is, and she’s heading right for us with her trusty clipboard clutched to her chest.
“So,” she says. “I assume everyone’s ready?” On the surface, it seems like she’s addressing all of us, but her gaze is centered on Mason. And though he refuses to assent, at least he doesn’t lash out like I feared. “Good.” She gives a curt nod, then turns to Elodie and hands her the clicker, which instantly fills me with dread.
“Why does Elodie get control of the clicker?” I ask, remembering how Elodie used it to taunt me on my first Trip, acting like she was about to leave without me as I struggled to reach the portal in time. Not exactly a moment I want to revisit.
Elodie rolls her eyes and slips the ring/clicker onto her index finger.
“It’s simply a matter of seniority.” Roxanne’s voice carries a notable edge. “And Elodie’s been here the longest. If you have a problem with that, you’re welcome to stay behind.” Roxanne’s gaze hardens on mine.
Stay behind and leave Mason’s first Trip in Elodie’s hands? No thanks.
“No…it’s…it’s fine,” I say, watching as Roxanne doles out thick squares of paper like a blackjack dealer doling out playing cards.
I gaze down at mine and read:
Your presence is requested!
When: May 15, 1813
Where: London, England
What: The May Ball
Why: Celebration of the London Season
As usual, what’s not stated is what we’re expected to bring back to Arthur, which, since it’s Mason’s first Trip, is whatever small valuables we can manage to carry out without raising suspicions or, worse, getting caught.
Oh, and according to the contact lenses we wear, we have sixty minutes to get the job done. This is also confirmed by Roxanne.
I study Mason, wondering how he feels about all the thieving Arthur will require of him. But whatever he’s thinking, he keeps it to himself. And it’s not until we’re just seconds from launch—just seconds before the lights flicker, the ground shakes, the wind begins to blow, and we all join hands—that Roxanne leans toward me, puts her lips to my ear, and says, “When you manage to break free from the others, check your right pocket.”
18
Just as I figured, the second we arrive in a secluded spot in the garden, Elodie is off.
“Fuck Blue,” Mason snaps. “I’m staying a Green until they’re so sick of me they send me back home.”
Normally, I’d admire his defiance. But here at Gray Wolf, I’m steeped in worry. I need to get through to him—convince him to rethink this before it’s too late.
“You wouldn’t be the first to try that,” I say. “But failing won’t get you sent home. And if you trust nothing else that I’ve said, at least try to trust that.”
Mason squares his broad shoulders, tilts his chin imperiously high. And I immediately recognize it as his go-to defense. Whenever he starts to feel foolish or small, he reminds himself—and everyone around him—just how much space he’s capable of commanding.
“Look, I know you hate me.” I shrug. “And you probably hate Arthur and Gray Wolf and pretty much everything having to do with this place…”
Mason says nothing, just waits for whatever comes next.
“And while I’m sorry to confirm that your old life is gone forever, that doesn’t mean you can’t build another one here. One that just might surprise you.”
I search Mason’s face, looking for a sign that I might’ve gotten through. But he may as well be wearing a mask. He gives nothing away.
Wait—wearing a mask!
I remember how Jago told me that, as a new Tripper, wearing a mask makes it easier to blend. But none of us are wearing one. And a quick look around tells me none are on offer.
I guess Arthur really is throwing Mason into the deep end. And dragging all of us along with him.
Not to mention how Arthur’s not even bothering to see him off. Another look around confirms that our benefactor is nowhere in sight, but Roxanne is, and she’s heading right for us with her trusty clipboard clutched to her chest.
“So,” she says. “I assume everyone’s ready?” On the surface, it seems like she’s addressing all of us, but her gaze is centered on Mason. And though he refuses to assent, at least he doesn’t lash out like I feared. “Good.” She gives a curt nod, then turns to Elodie and hands her the clicker, which instantly fills me with dread.
“Why does Elodie get control of the clicker?” I ask, remembering how Elodie used it to taunt me on my first Trip, acting like she was about to leave without me as I struggled to reach the portal in time. Not exactly a moment I want to revisit.
Elodie rolls her eyes and slips the ring/clicker onto her index finger.
“It’s simply a matter of seniority.” Roxanne’s voice carries a notable edge. “And Elodie’s been here the longest. If you have a problem with that, you’re welcome to stay behind.” Roxanne’s gaze hardens on mine.
Stay behind and leave Mason’s first Trip in Elodie’s hands? No thanks.
“No…it’s…it’s fine,” I say, watching as Roxanne doles out thick squares of paper like a blackjack dealer doling out playing cards.
I gaze down at mine and read:
Your presence is requested!
When: May 15, 1813
Where: London, England
What: The May Ball
Why: Celebration of the London Season
As usual, what’s not stated is what we’re expected to bring back to Arthur, which, since it’s Mason’s first Trip, is whatever small valuables we can manage to carry out without raising suspicions or, worse, getting caught.
Oh, and according to the contact lenses we wear, we have sixty minutes to get the job done. This is also confirmed by Roxanne.
I study Mason, wondering how he feels about all the thieving Arthur will require of him. But whatever he’s thinking, he keeps it to himself. And it’s not until we’re just seconds from launch—just seconds before the lights flicker, the ground shakes, the wind begins to blow, and we all join hands—that Roxanne leans toward me, puts her lips to my ear, and says, “When you manage to break free from the others, check your right pocket.”
18
Just as I figured, the second we arrive in a secluded spot in the garden, Elodie is off.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132