The Young Elites (The Young Elites #1)(46)
Author: Marie Lu

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?

Raffaele nods for me to come forward. I do as he says, until I’m only a few feet away from him. The other Daggers look on without a word. Gemma flashes me a smile, and so does Michel. I smile faintly back. At the other end, Dante watches me with a dark, ominous look. I try to ignore him, but his expression sends nausea through me, reminding me of Teren’s words. What is he thinking? What did he see? I look at the others again, searching for anything I might have missed. Do any of them know?

Raffaele steps toward me and hands me a neatly folded bundle of cloth. When he steps aside, I see that within the cloth is a silver mask. In the silence, I take it and hold it out solemnly before me. They don’t know yet.

My hands are shaking uncontrollably now. In spite of everything, my heart still leaps in a moment of excitement. This is my silver mask, my dark robe. From this day forward, I am supposed to be one of them. For the first time in my life, I have been accepted by a group.

The excitement fades quickly, replaced by dread.

“Repeat after me,” Raffaele says. I nod wordlessly, my throat dry. His words echo all around us.

“I, Adelina Amouteru—”

Violetta will pay for this, you know. Not you. Violetta.

“—hereby pledge to serve the Dagger Society, to strike fear into the hearts of those who rule Kenettra—”

I’ll tell you what you want. Just give me one more week. Please.

“—to take by death what belongs to us, and to make the power of our Elites known to every man, woman, and child.”

Three days. If you go back on your word again, I will shoot an arrow through your sister’s neck and out the back of her skull.

“Should I break my vow, let the dagger take from me what I took from the dagger.”

I repeat the words. Every single one. Darkness swims inside me. Should I break my vow, let the dagger take from me what I took from the dagger.

Raffaele bows his head to me when we finish. “Welcome to the Dagger Society.” He smiles. “White Wolf.”

Afterward, I dress in a flowing length of red robes and head down to the cavern with Gemma. The others are already there by the time I arrive, along with several strangers dressed in aristocratic clothing. Patrons? Around them swirl a few consorts from the Fortunata Court. The Daggers have donned formal Kenettran robes tonight, and now they lounge in a circle on pillowed divans in the underground sitting room, ignoring the trays of cold grapes and spiced wine. Despite the intense conversations they seem to be having with the richly dressed strangers, there’s a noticeable sense of celebration in the air, the nearing of their end goal. It contrasts oddly with the urns and ashes lining the walls. Their voices sound low, excited. I watch it all like it’s a dream of colors moving around me. None of it seems real. Somewhere beyond these walls, the Inquisition Tower looms.