Page 6 - My FlipBook

M ER ED ITH T A TE

is used for everything from ceremonies to supply drops to
executions. Today, it’s decorated for the festival, covered in
pink and yellow desert blossoms. Commissioned paintings on
easels display pictures of noteworthy people and scenes of
the old world before the drought. The largest portrait of the
Great Leader himself hangs in the middle, old and wise and
gazing down on us. I roll my eyes. If you ask me, he’s not worth
celebrating. Too bad no one ever asks me anything.
I do a double take at the smallest portrait on the end.

Someone painted a picture of Landon, my best friend, with a
sultry look on his face. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to see his
face beaming down at me from the portraits of famous people,
but still. He’s got his arms crossed and a dangerous glint in
his eyes. The words All Hail Limitless Landon—Trinnea’s Hero
are painted in swirly blue letters over his blond head. Those
familiar butterflies churn to life in my stomach, and I look away.
Ma stops at a jewelry booth sporting dozens of shiny beads.
“What do you think of these crystals?” Ma cradles a string
of shimmery blue gems in her hand.
The shopkeeper beams. “Those are one of a kind, from a
supply drop last year.”
“The Leader provides,” Ma says proudly.

“The Leader provides,” the man echoes.
I sigh, fiddling with my communicator. We can’t afford real
crystals, so I don’t know why Ma’s even looking.
A couple little Skilled kids tiptoe past me, heading toward
the stage—and the labyrinth behind it. My skin prickles, and
I can’t look away. The rough, red clay walls tower high over
everyone’s heads.

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