Chapter Twenty-Three

Delaney

My eyes swung back and forth across the room, watching Abby as she paced from one end to the other. Her hands, handcuffed behind her, were clenching and releasing, and I could see her teeth grinding together as she fumed silently.

"Jesus, Abby, would you just sit still?" I muttered finally. Shaking my head, I shifted in the dark red chair I sat in and tried to make myself comfortable—or at least, as comfortable as one can be with their hands secured behind their back.

Abby froze mid-step and whirled on me, her expression disdainful. "No, Delaney," she hissed, "I can't. I can't do much of anything with this goddamned color all over the place!"

She tried to gesture with her arms, but when that inevitably failed, swept her head in a wide arch to encompass the room. I looked up and grimaced. All around me was a sea of red, from the bright scarlet walls to the cream-and-crimson rug to the red chairs and chaises. Thick red curtains filtered light through the covered windows. Everything that wasn't red, it seemed, was a bright, sparkling gold. It was overwhelming, to say the least.

After getting off the plane, we had been handcuffed straightaway and led up an elevator and into the Capitol itself, where a taxi had been waiting to drive us away. It took us to a pretty white building, which Charisma (who had accompanied us) called The White House. Once inside, guards had quickly deposited us in this room and left, locking the door behind them. And so, for the past several minutes that felt like hours, Abby and I had been stuck in there, growing more and more restless by the second.
Sighing, I stared up at the blindingly bright gold chandelier above my head.

"Just sit, Abby," I said beseechingly, blowing at a piece of hair that had fallen in my face. It danced irritatingly in front of my eyes, then floated down to land on my nose, causing my glasses to slip. I groaned and added, "You won't help anything by wasting your energy like than."

"Speaking to you is a waste of energy!" she snapped.

I rolled my eyes. A few days ago, I might have shrunken back from her insults, but at that point, I was too numb to care. With all the uncertainty looming before us, I hardly had time to waste over yet another argument with Abby.

"Then why do you keep responding?" I countered tightly. That shut her up for a while, but, probably just to scorn me, she began pacing again, this time taking extra-heavy steps that clumped across the carpet. I breathed out slowly to keep my annoyance in check, but didn't gratify her with a response. Instead, I twisted in my chair, trying to find a position that didn't involve sitting on my hands. It was nearly impossible, but I kept trying. Anything to distract myself.

And that was how we were found, five minutes later, when two handcuffed figures were pushed into the room. I glanced over sharply as they stumbled across the carpet, their shoes leaving faint footprints in a plush material, but it wasn't until the doors slammed and they looked up that I recognized them.

"Trai!" I cried, as Abby shouted, "Caleb!"

"Delaney, Abby," Caleb murmured, "thank god." Relief flooded through me at the sight of the boys; I'd been trying not to think of them, but a part of me had worried that Abby and I would be left alone.

"Glad you guys are okay." Trai half-smiled, and I realized that his upper lip was swollen and bleeding.

"But you're not," I exclaimed, standing up quickly. "What happened to you?"

A wan smile flitted across his lips. "I—ah—made a Superior a little bit angry. No big deal." With some help from Caleb, he recounted their trip to the Capitol, up to the moment when the Superior had punched him in the face. Other than that last pivotal part, our journeys seemed pretty much the same.

Abby, who had fully stopped pacing, rolled her eyes. "God, you're such an idiot," she said, though I could hear the affection in her voice.

Her brother's eyes danced mischievously. "Guess it's hereditary." Then he became serious. "What about you, though? I saw that guard hit you back at the airfield."

Abby shrugged, but I noticed her glance down to the bruise forming under her eye. "Other than the fact that I'm a little purple, I'd say I'm fine. Might hurt a bit tomorrow, though." She crossed her eyes and wrinkled her nose.

We broke out into a nervous laughter that seemed to echo through the space. When the sound died away, leaving us in silence, Caleb stepped forward and glanced around the room.

"Some place, huh?" he remarked.

I nodded. "Yeah, this whole city is just"—I paused, searching for a word—"crazy. I never expected the Capitol to be so...grand."

"I never really imagined it," Abby piped up, frowning. "Out of sight, out of mind, you know? I mean, I knew the Capitol was here, but it just didn't seem to matter. Now that I think about it, though, I'd never seen the city. Sometimes the main building would come on TV, but never more than that. It's kind of weird, don't you think?"

She shrugged dismissively, but my heart stuttered with the realization that she was right. What bothered me wasn't so much that we'd never seen it, but the fact that we'd never questioned it. We were so ready to eat up everything the Superiors told us that we were willing to have gaps in our knowledge of them.

It was a scary thought, the idea that they could have so much control over us.

Before anyone could respond, the door opened again, this time much more gently. In the doorway stood a young woman, not a Superior, who was probably in her late-twenties. She had a plain face, blue-gray eyes, and blonde pixie-cut hair. Clutched to her chest was a tablet, and she wore the same black pinstriped pantsuit that seemed to be Capitol norm.

"Miracle will see you now," she said simply, her voice sharp and even. We glanced at each other. Miracle?

"My name is Nessa," the woman continued, looking slightly impatient. "Please follow me."

Caleb was the first one to move forward, followed by Trai, then Abby. As they approached the door, I swallowed hard and hurried after them.

Out in the hallway, four guards stood waiting. One put his hand on my shoulder. Without turning around, Nessa said, "Now, don't do that. I don't think the kids are fool enough to run, so we might as well give them the illusion of freedom." The guard released his grip.

"Come now," Nessa ordered briskly, walking forward on heels so high it was a wonder she didn't pitch forward. She led us down a wide hallway with an ornate red carpet down its center, and through an empty but incredibly fancy room filled with circular dining tables.

I grew quickly anxious as we stepped out of the building and into an outdoor walkway. Nessa did not pause for a moment, so I hardly had time to take in my surroundings before we were walking quickly down the tiled corridor. To my left, trees and roses nearly blocked the view of a bright grassy expanse. It reminded me slightly of the Arbor back at school in Seattle, where I used to eat lunch, and I felt a pang of homesickness.

Then we turned a corner, and the homesickness turned to a deep, fearful nausea that made my head spin. I stumbled, and my guard barely caught my arm in time to keep me from hitting the ground. Nessa stopped abruptly and turned around, one eyebrow raised.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

The words were out of my mouth before I could think. "Please don't take us to Miracle," I begged, still clueless as to who—or what—that was. Nessa looked at me in surprise, but her gaze held no malice. "I don't know who that is. I don't even know what's going on. Please, don't let them hurt us. We haven't done anything wrong, and I—I don't want to disappear." My last words were a shaky whisper.

I blew out a shivering breath and looked away from Nessa's face. It was Abby's eyes I met instead, but she merely shook her head in disgust and turned away. I ducked my head.

Nessa, meanwhile, stood very still, one hand on her hip and the other dangling by her side. Finally, she sighed, all of her coolness rushing away with the breath. She painted a small smile onto her face.

"Reagan, Alec, Simon, Bryce," she said, addressing each of the guards with a nod, "would you please tell Miracle that we'll be along in a second?"

The guard beside me, the one called Simon, frowned. "Are you sure that's a good idea? What about..." He gestured to me, Caleb, Abby, and Trai.

"They won't run," Nessa said confidently. "And if they do, I'm more than capable of handling them." The two shared a secret, pointed look.

"Miracle won't be happy," grumbled another man, Reagan. "You know she doesn't trust you, Nessa."

The woman shrugged. "And I don't trust her either. Just go. I'm not afraid of her, Reagan."

"But I am," the guard mumbled inaudibly as the four of them walked away.

Nessa watched them go, then beckoned for us to follow her back into an indoor hallway. When the door closed behind us, she spoke.

"You kids have some audacity, doing what you did," she scolded. All four of us opened our mouths to protest, but she pressed her finger to her lips. "Don't even bother—I know it was you. We all do. You underestimated Miracle's sleuthing capabilities." I wanted to ask who Miracle was, but it didn't seem like the right time.

"But still, the fact that you challenged her in the first place, especially given your ages, is commendable. If, by chance, you make it out of that office, I'd like the chance to speak more in depth with all of you."

The by chance part made my stomach twist.

"What you need to know is that there are more people like you. Not just among the Pro-Inferiors, but within the Capitol as well. If you make it, you'll certainly meet them."

A sunglasses-wearing man, obviously a Superior, passed by the glass door to the hallway. Nessa cast a furtive glance out, dropping her voice.

"I wish I could explain more," she hissed, "but right now, you need to meet with Miracle. She seems to be in a good mood today, so I'd say your chances are fifty-fifty. I'll try to pull some strings to get you into more...pleasant accommodations, but no promises. Just hang tight, watch your mouth, and wait for one of us to contact you."

She pushed open the door, then added, as an afterthought, "Oh, and try to act reverent while your in there. Miracle loves it when she's treated like a goddess."

And with that, she shoved the door open, stepping back outside.

We followed her down the rest of the corridor, to a door at the very end. The guards were waiting in a solemn line outside, and as we approached, they nodded respectfully. Nessa returned the gesture, her expression back to being icy and composed.

"How is she?" she asked quietly. Simon shrugged.

"Impatient. Narcissistic." He smirked a little bit. "Normal."

Nessa smiled and shook her head, as if she were a parent hearing about her child's antics. Then she looked back at us. "Unlock their handcuffs, would you?" she asked. "They deserve as much comfort as they can get."

The guards grimaced almost sympathetically, then obligingly moved over to us. There was a click, then the cuffs slid off my wrists. I sighed gratefully and kneaded my hands together to return the circulation. There were thin red marks where the metal had pressed into my skin.

Beside me, the others were doing the same. Nessa waited until we were still, then nodded approvingly and put her hand on the door. My mind was running a marathon, trying to catch up with the situation and remember everything Nessa had told us. I was so antsy that I didn't trust myself to say anything.

"Thank you," Caleb murmured, his green eyes solemn. Nessa smiled and tipped her head to the door.

"Good luck," she said seriously.

Then she swiped her hand to the right, and the door slowly slid open. As Caleb led the way into the dimly lit room, I heard one of the guards mutter, "Yeah. You'll need it."

~~~

A/N: Picture on the side is of Nessa... and pictures of the "red room" are on the external link :).