magic is in me, it would explain a lot. The visions… and a lot of other things that have no other explanation.”
“Well, certainly you’re a witch, my dear,” she said. “And, yes, your visions stem from your innate powers, whatever they may be. Does that make you feel any better?”
It should, I knew, but without knowing what power I had, without being trained to use it, what did it matter? Before I could stop myself, I heard myself say, “I think the idea of being trusted to make important decisions after all this time was… That was what I really wanted.”
She was looking at me so intently, so calculatingly.
“I see,” said Mother Morevna. “You meant to redeem yourself.”
I nodded sheepishly, my eyes on the floor.
She regarded me with those steely, unblinking eyes, and deep within them, I saw a glint of sympathy. Mother Morevna opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, a guard, Willard, the Jeffries’ oldest boy, opened the door.
“’Scuse me, Mother Morevna,” he said, his hat in his hand, his rifle on his shoulder.
“What is it, young man?” Mother Morevna said.
“I’m sorry, ma’am… someone’s knocking on the door. I think you’d better come talk to him.”
This was surprising, but it wasn’t shocking. It certainly wasn’t the first time it had happened. Though we rarely saw them, even from the tops of the walls, we knew that there were other people in the desert, other survivors living like feral animals outside the walls, paying the price after they chose to stay on what was left of their homesteads rather than join Elysium. But our doors were always, always closed to them.
“Tell whoever it is that we’ve too many mouths to feed as it is,” she said.
“I—I would have,” the guard said, taking a step back. “But he says he’s desperate. He’s brought supplies to barter for his entry. Seems worthwhile, to be honest.”
“Gifts?” she said. “From where? There are no fields, no places to grow crops.”
“Like I said, ma’am, you’d better come talk to him.”
Mother Morevna sighed. She hitched up her skirts and clicked away from me across the sanctuary. I stood where I was, awkward and confused in the multicolored light, my brain spinning with questions. Then, at the door, she turned to me and put her hands on her hips.
“Well?” she said. “Are you coming or will you just stand there idle?”
“Y-yes, ma’am!” I said, and ran to catch up with her.
CHAPTER 4
Mother Morevna strode to the great steel door, her skirts flicking up clouds of dust, and I trailed behind her, my handkerchief over my mouth. A crowd had gathered around the door, a semicircle of townspeople there to see the new curiosity out in the desert.
“Go home,” Mother Morevna said to the crowd, and slowly, they moved back, glancing over their shoulders as they went. “Gawkers,” said Mother Morevna under her breath. Then she turned to the guard. “Let me see him.”
The guard nodded, and Mother Morevna took a step back as he opened the rusty peep slot in the steel door. Through it, I could see a pale, sunburned face.
“Oh, hello!” said the man behind the door. “Are you the leader of this establishment?”
“I am,” said Mother Morevna. “Who are you and why have you come to Elysium?”
“Just a wayfaring stranger, ma’am, wandering through this world of woe. As the song goes, you know. Asa Skander’s the name, and as for where I’m from, I suppose I’m from everywhere and nowhere.”
He gave Mother Morevna a wink through the peep slot, but Mother Morevna was not amused.
“Where exactly are you from, and how did you come to be here?” she asked in a way that was more a warning than a question.
“I… uh… started up in Chicago, Illinois,” he said. “Part of a family of traveling magicians. When my pa and I got stranded out here and he subsequently died, I had to fend for myself. So now, at the ripe old age of nineteen, I’ve taken up the family business out here in the desert, pulling rabbits out of hats and coins out of ears and scarves out of sleeves, entertaining whoever I can. Of course, you can’t entertain everyone and now I’m… how shall we say… on the run? Fleeing from certain death?”
I grimaced. I’d heard stories of the people who had chosen to remain in the desert. They were supposed to be a nasty, lawless, bloodthirsty bunch, worse even than the creatures out there. A pang of pity went through