The Hunt by Megan Shepherd

Issander?”
    â€œYou must have more faith in Cassian,” Tessela said. “There was a chance Issander was a spy, so he had her replaced. I will try to protect you, but only so far. The Council cannot suspect anything. Now, come.” She signaled for Cora to follow. Cora trailed her through the backstage door, which led to a corridor that smelled of both astringent and straw, like a stable. Tessela handed Cora a block of dry cake-like bread and then showed her into a two-story room lined with cells.
    Cora stopped abruptly. There were wild animals in half the cages, and human kids in the other half. The dancing girl, Makayla, was on the second story. The dark-haired bartender was near the bottom corner.
    â€œHere!” a voice yelled. “There’s an empty cage here.”
    That was Lucky’s voice! Cora whirled toward the sound. Behind his cell bars, his dark hair was just as rumpled as his safari clothes, but a little longer than she remembered. Weeks must have passed since she had seen him.
    â€œBring her over here,” he said, gripping the bars tighter. He nodded toward an empty cage two down from his own, directlybelow Mali. In the cell between them, a small white fox curled at the bottom.
    Cora stepped into the cell, and Tessela closed and latched the gate. It was a simple metal latch that Cora could have easily reached through the bars and unlocked, but Lucky made a signal for her to wait. She looked away, self-conscious. She hadn’t looked in a mirror in weeks, but besides tangled hair, what did he see when he looked at her? The girl who’d assaulted him in the cage? The senator’s daughter he’d sent to prison?
    Or someone who’d once been a friend?
    She dared a glance up. With his hair shaggy like that, he looked more like the boy she’d first seen on an artificial beach, looking as utterly lost as she was. She had liked that boy. She just hadn’t liked what the cage had later twisted him into—someone complacent.
    But as soon as Tessela left, his hands squeezed the bars tightly. There was a determination written on his face that told her that boy on the beach had never truly vanished, and it lifted her spirits.
    â€œWe can’t get out,” he said, and nodded toward the cell doors. The overhead lights clicked off, and a blue light clicked on above each of their doors. “Lightlocks. The other kids told me about them earlier today. They’re run by perceptive technology. They don’t unlock until the morning.” He paused. “It’s good to see you.”
    â€œYou too,” she said quietly.
    From the cell above her, Mali stuck down a hand and waved.
    In the faint blue glow, Cora couldn’t quite read Lucky’s face.His hand went to his temple absently, the spot where she had once slammed a ceramic dog into his head to escape him. But then he reached out for her. She did the same, but five inches of space kept them apart. She was just about tell him that she was sorry for everything that had happened, when a deep voice interrupted her.

8
    Cora
    â€œLADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IT looks like we have a new girl.”
    Cora turned toward the voice in the darkness. Two hands grabbed the bars of her cell and rattled hard, making her jump. A boy’s face pressed against the bars, grinning maniacally.
    The blond bartender, Dane.
    â€œBoo.” He let out a laugh.
    He took a yellow yo-yo out of his pocket and started tossing it up and down, up and down, carefree as though they weren’t all prisoners. As though one of them hadn’t been dragged off by guards just hours ago for no discernible reason, yelling about lies. The blue glow reflected on the boy’s buzzed head, hair a shade darker than her own, hooded eyes that cast shadows almost like the Kindred’s.
    â€œWelcome to the Hunt, songbird. You’re the third new cast member we’ve gotten today—we met the others this morning. What’s your