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The Rival

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I RAISED a brow at Valcas. I had no idea the TSTA had a president.

When did this happen?

He winked at me and sat farther back in his seat, as if he were enjoying himself by privately trying to solve the puzzle.

President Bree continued her speech. “Welcome to the TSTA’s first annual fundraising Gala.”

A couple of people started to applaud, but President Bree raised her hands to silence them. “This Agency has been in great need of support—monetary aid—for some time. Monies earned from those able to pay fines in retribution for their infractions are simply not enough to cover the costs of a greater matter.”

Guests glanced at one another with worried eyes.

“We need more funding. What we intend to fight—for the TSTA’s protection—will cost a great deal. And we need your help.”

Murmurs spread throughout the room. I imagined anyone who attended a fundraiser already expected to shell out a bunch of cash. But the grumpy frowns around me seemed to suggest otherwise. I couldn’t help but wonder whether President Bree was going to ask them for more money than they’d brought.

President Bree paused and raised her hands again. “You may have already noticed that no one from Aboreal is present tonight. That’s because the Aborealian people have not been invited.” Her inflection on the word people suggested she thought them anything but people. Words like monsters or animals came to mind—something less than human.

I sucked in a breath. No. I searched around the room, trying to find someone, anyone, with jet-black or snow-white hair. I didn’t see anybody. Okay, maybe a couple of people there had super dark or super light hair, but it was different somehow, less uniform. There was also the matter of the Aborealians’ jewel-toned eyes, something I couldn’t see from where I was sitting.

A more complete understanding of why Ivory and Nick weren’t present suffocated me. I didn’t see Valcas’ mother, Sable, there either—even though she was an Aborealian who I knew had given the TSTA tons of money to pay for Valcas’ infractions. I covered my mouth with my hand. Why hadn’t the TSTA invited someone as wealthy as her to their fundraising Gala? And why did the TSTA need protection from Aboreal?

“But there are Aborealian personnel among the TSTA,” called out a man from the crowd.

President Bree shook her head. “That’s no longer the case. All Aborealian employees have either been sent home or detained.”

Buzzing sounds of surprise and fear circulated the room. I couldn’t tell whether the other guests were worried for themselves, the Aborealians or the TSTA. Had Ivory lost her job? If so, did she know that yet?

And what about Valcas—people like him who were half Aborealian? Were they TSTA enemies too? Would they take him away?

“Valcas?” My voice shook under the weight of my fear of the unknown.

“Don’t worry, dearest,” he said under his breath. “My birthplace is the White Tower, not Aboreal. I wouldn’t have been invited if they didn’t want me to hear this.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Maybe the TSTA wanted him here, trapped with me.

After hushing the guests once more, President Bree eyed the crowd and smiled. She clasped her hands in front of her, near her heart. Polished fingernails matched her red hair. I wondered what world she came from and how she’d been elected. “Tonight we have special guests, talented travelers who have visited and survived the Place of the Lost.”

A dark silence followed as those present absorbed the president’s words.

“Basileios Plaka and Calidora Winston, if you would please stand so that we may recognize you.”

I froze in my seat. I’d already known we were to be guests of honor for the Gala, but my arms and legs seemed to have fallen asleep.

“Don’t be shy,” urged President Bree. “A round of applause, please, for the last two Remnant Transporters.”

“Monkeys,” my father said softly as he stood from his chair.

I couldn’t focus on anything else but his face as I followed his lead. That one word, spoken by my father, coupled with peals of clapping, explained the purpose of the entire evening—why we were there. Like my father said, we were monkeys, dangled in front of the assembly for the guests’ entertainment. The TSTA was using us to gain support and the funding they needed to stay safe from Aboreal.

Valcas’ eyes darted back and forth between me and my father as we sat back down. A frown spread across his face.

I worried for Nick and Ivory as waiters placed plates in front of me. I worried through salad, soup and an entrée sprinkled with sides. I wondered how much the TSTA knew about Susana—did it know Susana by that name or as the Place of the Lost, like President Bree had said? Mom had mentioned Susana by its name in the invitation. Was that because Ivory told her about it, or was it knowledge she’d already had? I kept these questions to myself during dinner, and continued to worry. President Bree’s first name also concerned me. Her name was also Susana. Dessert showed up at some point, but none of it mattered. I tasted nothing.

After dinner, the dance floor that circled the stage quickly populated with guests. Had the circumstances been different, it would have been a great party. A tap on my shoulder further soured the event.

I turned to find a redheaded woman towering over me. Her dress looked even stiffer up close.

“Calidora,” said President Bree, holding out her hand. “How wonderful to finally meet you.”

I winced. Finally? Something in her voice hinted at the possibility that she’d heard of me before. “Hi,” I said as I gave her hand a polite, but quick, shake.

President Bree responded with a smile doused in sugar. “Your mother talks about you all the time. She’s proud to have a daughter with such an exquisite talent.”

All the time, huh? I hated how she tried to make it sound like she and Mom were best friends. “It’s too bad I didn’t find out about my travel talent until after I was charged with a TSTA infraction,” I said, sweetly. “That would have been useful information.”

“I have no intention of telling others how to raise their children, but I have to agree.” She looked at me with mock pity; her eyes brooded conspiracy, as if she was letting me in on a secret. “You should have been trained by the TSTA so you could learn how to make the best use of your talent.” She paused. Something across the room apparently caught her eye. “On the other hand...”

I followed President Bree’s gaze, which led to my father. Her lips quirked into a half grin.

“On the other hand?” I hoped she didn’t enjoy what she was looking at quite as much as it seemed.

“Some travelers seem to have no problem developing their talents without the agency’s instruction,” she continued. “The most interesting are those who also manage to avoid infractions.”

“Or becoming Lost,” I shot back, unsure where she was going with this, not to mention uncomfortable with how she continued to stare at my father.

President Bree wrinkled her forehead. “Yes, what a sad situation for those who were Lost. Those poor beings—”

“You mean like me? I was Lost before helping to free the others from Susana.”

She let out a sharp breath before smoothing a hand across an imaginary wrinkle on her suit-dress and pulling her lips back into a smile. “Yes, of course.” She patted my shoulder. “I’d like to hear more about your experiences, but I don’t want our other guest of honor to feel unwanted.”

I choked back laughter. If she only knew just how unwanted my father wished to be—both by her and the agency she represented. The smugness in her eyes suggested that she mistook my silence for agreement.

Before I could set the record straight, she looked away as if bored with me and our conversation. “Some other time, then? Thanks again for being here with us this evening, Calidora. I look forward to chatting with you soon.” Her feet were in motion before her lips stopped moving, headed in the direction of my father.

I stood there alone, scowling, as President Bree traced her red nails along my father’s arm. I couldn’t blame her for thinking him handsome, especially when he wasn’t dressed like a coyote hunter from ancient Greece. I bet she also thought he was powerful because of his talents and healing abilities. What bothered me most was that I wasn’t certain whether she was genuinely intrigued, or if she was making it up as part of a trap.

I wanted her nasty claws off my father. I had to find a way to break them apart. I didn’t want to throw Valcas at her. That would be awkward.

Fortunately, my father didn’t seem to be the slightest bit interested in her. He was polite, but I could tell from the look in his eyes that he despised her. To him, she was a symbol of hatred, the conniving figurehead of the agency he despised.

But more than once, I caught him looking over President Bree’s shoulder, with love in his eyes. When he looked at the bar, or more precisely, at the woman standing there. Mom.

That gave me an idea.