“Can—” Chloe tried to steady her voice. “Can it be Brian?”
Both father and son looked equally surprised.
“I don’t see why not,” Whitney said finally. “It is … it used to be a high honor, performing this kind of execution.” There were hisses and murmured angry noises from the Mai. “It’s only fitting for the son of the head of the Order to do it. But the rest of us will be standing around closely to make sure there are no tricks.”
“Wow, Dad. Thanks” Brian said sarcastically.
“Brian, I …” His father’s eyes traced every injury and bruise and scrape and bandage on his son. “I didn’t think they would—”
“Try to kill me?” Brian demanded. “What did you think Dickless was going to do when you gave him free rein on the ‘betrayer’?”
But Chloe was pulled away from the family reunion by Dmitry. “Honored One,” he said softly, kneeling on one knee this time, looking her in the eye. “It is my duty—it is my honor to die protecting you. Let me do this.”
Chloe shook her head, trying to smile but failing. “I’m your leader, and I’ve chosen. So there it is.” And just one more second of your pleading and I’m gonna wimp out.
She knelt before Brian in his wheelchair to make it easier for him while pretending to adjust his clothes or something in case the patrolling Tenth Bladers missed some onlookers who might be concerned to see some-one’s throat being cut. The depths of irony: she was trying to hide her own death.
“I can’t do this.” Brian shook his head. “You can’t ask me to do this.”
“It’s got to be done,” Chloe whispered. “This is the only way to bring peace to the Mai and the Order.”
“I can’t kill you,” he said weakly, a hopeless look in his eyes.
“I can’t trust anyone else,” Chloe said, kissing his forehead. She tried to ignore the sound of her mother weeping in the background, drowning it out by focusing on the barking sea lions. “I know you’ll be careful. Scarring, you know,” Chloe added with a smile, although she knew that Brian would understand what she really meant by ‘careful’. This was the only way to bring peace, but Chloe couldn’t be sure that anyone beside Brian wouldn’t slit her throat six more times as soon as she woke back up.
Whitney handed his son the pretty silver dagger. It looked strangely familiar—then Chloe remembered the dream she had where she was her sister and the Rogue cut her down. Same dagger? Or a similar one?
Everyone gathered around them, Whitney the closest, still looking disturbed.
“This is sick,” Brian said weakly.
“Hey, I don’t trust your old man,” Chloe said, her voice shaking. “But I trust you, Brian. I trust you so much.”
“I love you, Chloe,” Brian said fiercely, a single tear running down his cheek.
“I love you, too,” Chloe whispered.
Then he drew the dagger across her throat, and she collapsed to the ground, dead.
Nineteen
When she opened her eyes and saw the strange view of space, the end-of-time galaxies and nebulas spinning above her, Chloe was actually relieved.
It was still a scary place, pitch black with distant echoing roars, on the edge of a cliff with shadows flickering all around, menacing and too close.
But it’s better than being dead. Really dead.
“Mother?” Chloe asked, getting up and fighting her urge to run. Her voice was lost in the infinitely great space, drowned by the hisses around her like a thousand candles going out. She walked away from the edge of the cliff, toward where the shadows were congregating.
Not that way. Not yet, a voice came to her, growling. A black shadow flame blocked her way. It was both upright and leonine at the same time, majestic and animalistic.
“What do I do now?” Chloe pleaded. “Did I do the right thing?”
You have done the rightest thing our people have witnessed in over five thousand years. Our Pride has never seen a leader like you, not even in me.
“Will we have peace now? Will we be safe?”
For a time—the hearts of both humans and Mai are fickle, Chosen Daughter. You have done the best you can to ensure any peace at all.
“Mother?” Somehow Chloe felt that her time with her mother was coming to a close. “Do you mind me seeing Brian?”
She could have sworn she heard laughter.
Being Mai is a state of mind, a spiritual state as well as that of the body. He loves you, too. What more do you want?
Chloe wasn’t sure what kind of answer that was, but her mother didn’t seem to be upset by the union.
“Thank you,” she said slowly. “I guess I’ll be going back now.”
Go with my blessings, Chosen Daughter.
There was nothing to embrace, or Chloe would have. The shade of her mother was only fire and air. She turned and faced the edge of the cliff. The winds of a thousand ages blew up it, lifting her hair and stinging her face.
She put her hands out like Superman and jumped.
Twenty
Chloe came to calmly this time, without a jolt or start. Because I chose to and was ready, she realized. Her head lay in Brian’s lap, sticky with blood. The wound on her neck was already drying up and knitting itself together as she lay there. In a moment, there would only be a faint scar. Like from the bullet. Like from her fall from the tower.
“Chloe!” Brian choked, hugging her as best he could in their two positions.
“That … kind of sucked,” Chloe said, trying to lighten the mood around them. Then she felt a strange sensation in her stomach. The brave leader and martyr pushed herself off Brian just in time to vomit all over the ground. When her neck pulsed, it ached like her worst cramps. One didn’t just die and recover immediately; even with Chosen Ones there was suffering in the process. She moaned once, unable to keep it in check.
Dmitry and Amy were at her side, one holding her up3 the other holding her hair back.
“Do—do we have a truce now?” Chloe whispered, looking up at Brian’s dad. Acid stung her throat.
“We do,” the middle-aged man said loudly and authoritatively, but his eyes were suspiciously wet.
Epilogue
This was not exactly how Chloe had imagined attending the fall formal.
For one thing, her dress was kind of last minute—Marisol gave her the choice of one free thing off the racks and Amy had adjusted it for her. Eschewing lace or satin or even cotton, Chloe had opted for a leather bustier and pencil skirt. She felt a little outrageous these days. A red velvet ribbon was tied around her throat as a choker, hiding the scar.
Her date wasn’t anyone from her school, and he was in a wheelchair. Brian promised he would try to get up onto crutches for one dance, but Chloe wasn’t going to hold him to it. He looked great, actually, very tragic and romantic with his black velvet jacket, pale skin, and luscious dark brown hair. Somehow Amy had managed to scrounge up an antique wheelchair, which helped the image. Brian balked, however, when she suggested a velvet throw over his lap.
Amy was actually dancing with Alyec. They were officially An Item now. And they looked pretty hot together, Chloe had to admit. Her friend was positively gorgeous in the seventeenth-century zombie outfit she had designed.
Paul was sipping spiked punch next to Kim, who didn’t bother disguising her ears and eyes; it was a Halloween dance, after all. Everyone complimented her on the “prosthetics.” She wore a very prom-y black gown with ruffles and crap, but it actually worked on her, in a sort of otherworldly way.
Paul was still kind of nervous around Kim and Kim was still just drinking in normal human teenage culture; she looked like an orphan suddenly let into a banquet. Somehow Chloe didn’t see the two of them hooking up. At least not yet.
“Oh, hey,” Brian suddenly said, interrupting her thoughts. “I got you something—I totally forgot.”
“Besides the corsage?” Chloe teased, fingering the orchids at her wrist. “I’m showered with riches.”
As he fumbl
ed in his pockets, she tried to guess what it would be. A little cat figurine? Her name in hieroglyphs, like a cartouche pendant? Catnip?
Instead he pulled out a pin. She squinted at it in the dim light, letting her Mai eyes go slitty for just a moment.
First Woman President, it read, with Wonder Woman standing proudly, hands on her hips.
Chloe laughed. “I think I have all the leadership I can handle right now.” She leaned over so he could pin it on. Instead he pulled her forward and kissed her.
“Photo of the charming couple?” Scott Shannon brandished his camera enticingly. There was a portrait area set up in the corner with an actual professional photographe, but he was handling the “action” snapshots.
“That would be wonderful,” Kim said excitedly, coming forward and dragging Paul. She beckoned for Amy and Alyec to join them. “Get all of us. I want the tiny ones that fit in a wallet.”
“Do you even have a wallet?” Paul muttered.
Kim just hissed at him.
Everyone laughed, and the flash went off.
Chloe King has
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Everybody gets to be supermodel gorgeous. What could be wrong with that?
In this futuristic world, all children are born “uglies,” or freaks. But on their sixteenth birthdays they are given extreme makeovers and turned “pretty.” Then their whole lives change. …
And coming soon: Pretties
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Celia Thomson, The Chosen
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