immediately returned the gesture. The Feed cut to a microphone raised toward him. His eyes, filled with both sorrow and resolution, perused the crowd until the din had settled.
“Let the condemned stand forth before us.”
From the gates, two Iron Fists led the hooded perpetrator in chains. The crowd jeered so loudly that he actually tripped and had to be dragged the rest of the way. The Regent held up his hand, silencing the crowd once more. Then he nodded to Tier Saah, who made his way to the dais.
“Before you stands a man,” Tier Saah spoke, his voice smooth like cream, “faceless. Unknown. Born of flesh and blood—like all of us—and imbued with the power of choice and free will. But unlike you and I, who serve the One, this man serves himself. Would you see this man for who he is? For what he has become?”
The crowd answered in unison as bodies pressed forward. Bloodlust was thick in the air. Even Robinson found himself gripping the railing as Tier Saah called for the prisoner’s hood to be removed.
The crowd gasped. The condemned man’s head hung low, his ruffled hair covering his face. As the prisoner’s name sped through the mob, the furor escalated until it was deafening. Finally, he looked up. Robinson inhaled.
“Who is it?” Tessa asked.
Robinson shook with disbelief. “Byron Frostmore. They’re executing a Tier.”
Tessa and Slink were equally stunned. A Tier hadn’t been executed since well before the teens were born.
“What could he have done?” Tessa asked.
Robinson shrugged but didn’t dare look at her for fear she’d see the doubt building in his heart. The man was being tried for treason. And yet that very morning, he’d taken a secret meeting with his father and the others. Were they also involved? Would that explain his father’s angry outburst? If so, they were all in jeopardy.
Exile and Expiry.
These were the two punishments any citizen faced. To be Exiled was to be banished beyond the Wall, left to the horrors of renders and the wild things of the world. Death was certain, but the means were unknown.
Expiry wasn’t nearly as vague.
A rush of people swarmed forward and tore Tier Frostmore from the stage. His clothes were ripped from his body and he was dragged into the street. The mob spit and threw things as he passed. Already the heavy chains bit into his legs, drawing blood that stained the road red, which was how it had earned its name. Through it all, the entire spectacle was broadcast with remarkable clarity on the Feed overhead.
Tessa turned, tears in her eyes. They both knew the journey that awaited Tier Frostmore. It was a long, hard slough through the Clutch and Communal Fields, and all the way to the Western Gate. Only there would the crowd be held back as the Iron Fists dragged him to the cliffs that overlooked the sea. Would he leap of his own accord? Or would he tarry out of fear or pride and force the gauntlets to end it for him?
“I have to go see my father,” Tessa said unexpectedly.
To their right, the Regent and his guard left the stage, but Tier Saah remained. Robinson could see by his demeanor that the scene affected him too. He’d always heard disturbing things about the Tier of Obedience, but now he was unsure what to believe. In the space of half a day, so many things had happened.
Robinson reached for Tessa’s hand. “Go on. Put this from your mind. Tomorrow we become apprentices. Tomorrow we’ll be Named. After that, nothing can keep us apart.”
“I can’t wait,” she said before quickly kissing him on the mouth and dashing away. He watched her until her golden locks disappeared among the crowd.
“You knew him,” Slink said suddenly. Robinson didn’t have to ask who him was.
“Not really. But he was one of us. The idea that this could happen so quickly …”
“I’ll walk you to the Shelf.”
“You can’t look after me forever, Slink. One of these days, I’m going to have to learn to take care of myself.”
Slink
Learning to Kill: Stories