The Culling by Steven Dos Santos Page B

then at Digory. I mouth the words I’ll be right there and watch as Cole takes her hand, and then he and the hover chair are gobbled inside.
    Before I even have the chance to fully turn around, Digory’s tugging my arm, pulling me into an alcove on the side of the building under the scowl of a stone gargoyle. He eyes me up and down. “You’re okay! I heard you’d been captured by the Imps. But that’s impossible. You’re here, safe .”
    I poke my head out of the niche and peer around the corner, scanning the crowd to make sure no one’s listening. But they’re all riveted on the procession winding down the boulevard. I melt back into the shadows. “Actually, you heard right. I was taken in for questioning. But everything’s fine now. It was all a misunderstanding.”
    Digory’s eyes taper into slits. “How’s that possible? No one gets released on good behavior.”
    I shake my head. “It’s a long story and I don’t have time to explain right now.”
    There’s a loud whinny from one of the caballuses in the procession, followed by a few screams. One of the bystanders is barely pulled out of the beast’s path by the crowd. Its rider, Prior Delvecchio, gallops ahead without even a look back. I huddle closer to Digory so he can hear me above the commotion. “There’s something more important I need to talk to you about. Remember when you asked me why I was breaking curfew?”
    He nods, still looking at me funny.
    “There was someone here I had to see. Someone I needed to ask for help.”
    His eyes brush the Citadel’s walls, painting them with contempt. “There’s no one inside this … this place … who would help anyone.” When he looks back at me, understanding dawns on his face, mixed with fear. “But if you got released, it must mean you’re cozy with one of the higher-ups. And the only person with that kind of authority is the new Prefect, Cassius Thorn.” He slaps his forehead. “Of course! You two! I remember. You were always together before he left the Parish … ”
    My pulse sprints. “How did you know—?”
    He grabs my hands. “Believe me, Lucian. He’s not the same anymore. No one who could rise to that position so quickly could ever be.”
    I pull away. “He’s not like the others. He wants to help.”
    Digory backs away. “What are you talking about? What did you tell him?”
    “Relax. I didn’t tell him anything. It’s what he told me . He wants to change things. He really does care about the citizens of the Parish.”
    Digory sighs. “And you believe that?”
    “It’s true. He wants to meet with the leaders of the rebellion, have a face-to-face, hear their grievances, reach a compromise.”
    Digory crosses his arms. “How exactly does he plan to accomplish this?”
    “Through … ” I clear my throat. “Through me .”
    “You mean through me , don’t you?”
    “What?”
    He moves close again, squeezing my arms. “You didn’t tell him about what we talked about, did you?”
    “Of course not!” I shake myself loose. I notice several onlookers giving us the eye and lower my voice. “All he did was ask me to pave the way. I didn’t promise him anything. That’s why I’m telling you now. I wanted to run it by you before—”
    “Before you report back to him ?” Digory’s face is on fire. “Have you forgotten what they did to that kid in the alley?”
    It’s a memory I’ll never forget, no matter how many dams my brain wedges against it. “That wasn’t Cass. It was the Establishment .”
    Digory clenches his fists. “He is the Establishment.”
    Now it’s my turn to get angry. “You’re wrong .”
    His gaze softens. He reaches out and lifts the pendant Cassius gave me, studying the clasping hands before letting it drop back down against my heart. “Lucian. I saw your brother and Mrs. Bledsoe entering the Citadel. If you love them as much as I know you do, you’ll get them out as soon as possible.”
    I’m genuinely touched, even if his fears