I hoped and prayed for the latter, unable to imagine anything worse while my parents were still out there.
Then, from somewhere in the darkness, I heard a voice echoing against the unyielding stone. And then another, and another, and soon everyone around us was rising to their feet out of respect, repeating the familiar words of the Pledge.
I lifted Angelina, refusing to release, or even to wake, her as I joined the others.
My breath is my pledge to worship my queen
above all others.
My breath is my pledge to obey the laws of my
country.
My breath is my pledge to respect my superiors.
My brea Bght joighth is my pledge to contribute to the
progress of my class.
My breath is my pledge to report all who would
do harm to my queen and country.
As I breathe, I pledge.
The words held more meaning now, on this night, than they ever had before. I wasn’t sure if it was fear or patriotism, but in that moment I truly was making a vow to my queen. Beseeching her for protection that only she could offer.
Eventually, as we settled down again, and talk wore thin, the night became heavy. I succumbed to the fatigue and curled protectively around Angelina, Aron’s body warm beside mine.
And somewhere, at some point, sleep became not just an option, but an inevitability.
Voices echoed down the interior caverns, jubilant and loud. The cries woke me, and I shrugged my weary shoulders, trying to work out the aches in my arms and neck. Angelina was already sitting up, pretending to whisper secrets into Muffin’s ear.
I reached for her, touching her leg. “Are you okay?”
She nodded.
It was light outside, and easier to see inside the passageways with daylight reaching down into them.
I looked up at Aron, who was still by my side. “Has anyone come in here?”
He nodded, and I glanced around, realizing that almost everyone had gone, his family included.
I smiled at Angelina, who was still playing with Muffin.
“What was it?” I asked him. “What caused the sirens?”
“Queen Elena’s army breached the defenses of several of the smaller cities to the east. The sirens were set off as a precaution, just in case her forces came too close.”
That was good news; it meant that the Capitol was still safe. And, almost as importantly, that the alarm system had not malfunctioned: The warning had been deliberate. We could trust the sirens.
Even better, it meant that my father would be coming for us soon.
“You didn’t have to stay, Aron. You could have gone home with your family.”
Aron wrinkled his nose, looking at me as if I were speaking nonsense. He shook his head when he answered, “I wouldn’t have left without you, Charlie. You know that.”
I did know; his words weren’t even necessary.
I grinned then, and shrugged. “Funny. I’d have left you in a heartbeat.”
But Aron didn’t hesitate. “Liar. You’d never leave me behind.”
When he
found us, my father captured me and Angelina in a huge embrace, threatening to never let us go. Even Aron had earned a hug, whether he wished it or not. My father kissed both my sister and me, and he alternately whispered his gratitude and apologies into my ear. Ang Bght p hng elina beamed as he tossed her into the air, catching her before she fell all the way back to the ground. It was like watching a grizzly playing catch with a feather.
We were safe, and that was all that mattered.
For now.
VII
Just because there hadn’t been an actual attack on the city didn’t mean that everything went back to normal. Not right away at least.
A curfew was imposed. It wasn’t particularly early, or even strict, it was just another show of the queen’s authority. It told us all that her power was unaffected by the rebels and their allies.
Each night now we heard three short bleats that were sounded through the city’s loudspeakers. They were the signal that it was time, that everyone must evacuate the streets to seek shelter indoors. We were told it was only temporary, merely precaution.
It was one more change we would eventually grow accustomed to, just as we had to so many others over the past days, weeks, months. Acclimation was the key to survival.
I’d tried to question my parents about that night, about why they hadn’t gone with Angelina and me. About why they’d thrust us into the streets during the threat of a war. My father was indifferent to my frustrated inquiries, claiming I was overreacting, reminding me time and again that there’d been no real danger, that everything had been fine. But he’d had no way of knowing that would be the case. My mother simply changed the subject whenever it was broached, until eventually, I just let it drop.
Activities resumed in the wake of the sirens’ warnings that night. Daily life continued, but for several days following, there was a feeling in the air, a sense of menace lurking like an unseen peril that stoked our fears and made each and every one of us a little wary.
It affected me in the same way it did everyone, consuming my thoughts and dictating my actions. I gave more forethought to everything I did, calculating risks, both real and imagined.
But that vigilance could only be maintained for so long before it wore thin, its veneer becoming unstable and then splintering, giving way to more usual behaviors and thoughts. Soon I found myself thinking about things less frightening than the threat of war, less intense than being awakened by sirens that cut through the night, and more . . . intimate. Although no less worrisome.