Page 13 of Mindeater

He already knew that by how morbidly obsessed Matthias was with watching his womb be cut out. “I can’t do anything about that, Ryx,” he said softly. “I’m…just a boy.”

“Boy has mastery.”

Saren gave him a sad smile. “But still a boy nonetheless. Come on, let’s eat and I’ll show you how to wash the dishes.”

***

When Patryn finished speaking with Matthias, he went to the sink and filled it with soap. At first, Saren was confused, thinking it was some test. The suds overflowed onto the countertops, splashed onto the floor, but his guardian made no move to scold him or demand that he clean it up. Instead, he splashed them at the boys. Fluffy white bubbles dotted their cheeks, shirts, and hands. The pure joy that consumed Saren was enough to distract him from the upcoming exam, the troubling things Ryx had said, and Matthias being in their home.

Patryn played with them like they were his children and he was their parent. He chased them with soapy hands, tickled them, and pumped out the most soothing scents that he hadn’t smelled since he was in diapers. Saren was laughing so hard his cheeks hurt. Ryx tried to run, but Patryn chased him, dropping a handful of soapy water on his hair. Saren couldn’t believe how wonderful the evening had become. And when Patryn scooped both boys into his arms, smiling the softest smile down at them, Saren was sure his heart would explode.

It felt like they were a real family: two boys and a father who loved them dearly. Saren went to bed with that smile firmly plastered on his face and a lightness in his heart he hadn’t felt for years.

He hadn’t even sucked his thumb.

But when he woke up, Patryn was gone.

Lilah, the youngest council member, was waiting in the foyer to escort Saren to his exam. Ryx lingered on the staircase, glancing between them with suspicious silver eyes. Saren waved, told him he’d be back in an hour, and then left with Lilah. They walked off the property and up the path to the top of the hill, where the council chambers stood. An enormous building that would’ve been a town hall centuries ago stood out amongst the manicured garden and crisp lawn. It was three stories tall with several lower levels beneath the ground.

Similar to the garden at his home estate, this one spanned the entire circumference of the building. The top floor seemed to nearly touch the eco-dome. Every few years,, humans would come to do repairs, repaint the outer walls,, and landscape. It felt unnecessary, since no one besides the council members or messengers from sister communities ever stayed there for any length of time. Unless they were rebels; sometimes, they never left.

Avis would interrogate prisoners in the depths of the council chambers, according to Patryn. Saren was forbidden to enter those lower levels.

So, when Lilah approached the elevator and pressed the down button, he froze. “Patryn says I’m not supposed to go down there,” he said, looking to her for an explanation.

Lilah was a rare Telex, both born female and an alpha. She exuded her position with pride. Strong notes of cedar made up her scent, filling his nose, but holding little sway over him. Her waist-long black hair was pulled into a tight braid, and her thin eyebrow arched. “Do you always listen to your guardian?”

He squirmed as the doors slid open. “Yes, miss.”

Her hand snaked out lightning-quick, and her mastery poured into Saren. She was a telepath, but her specialty was hunting memory. With her intent clear, she could seek out every memory in someone’s head and find anything related to what she searched for. A single word. A color seen. A place frequented. She found every instance Saren had disobeyed Patryn and flooded his psyche with it. He trembled, whimpered, the pain searing him from temple to temple. When he bent at the waist, held up only by her vise-like grip, she relented and let him fall to the floor.

“Get in the elevator, Saren.”

He wiped his wet cheeks quickly and stumbled into the car.

They rode down in silence while he tried to unscramble his mind. A stream of blood dribbled onto his upper lip. Lilah side-eyed him and arched her brow again. He mumbled an apology and wiped it off with the back of his hand. Thankfully, his slacks were black, so he hid the offending blood on the fabric. Bright overhead fluorescent lights burst through the car doors when they reached the lowest level, sending a spike of dread through his heart.

“W-will Patryn be attending, miss?” he asked as they navigated through the maze of halls.

“He was called away for an urgent matter.”

Saren’s dread tripled. He’d be alone with the council. With Horris and Matthias. He wasn’t sure if Eran or Vyctor would be present, but it wouldn’t surprise him if they were. This had never happened before. Patryn was always there. He’d never left Saren to their mercy before. Gooseflesh pimpled the exposed skin of his forearms, traveling up his biceps and under his navy shirt. His tag sat cold against his chest. The deeper they went into the underground facility, the thicker the air grew.

“What is this place?”

Her shoes clicked over the stone floors, echoing off the grey concrete walls. “When you are the Maven, you will learn all about it. For now, think of it as a safe place to test your mastery.”

Nodding and gulping, he kept pace with her until they reached a dead end. It wasn’t smart to commit everything he saw to memory, but he did it anyway. Suspicious rooms that looked an awful lot like prison cells. A strange laboratory with odd machines he couldn’t name. Some sentries guarded locked doors. All of it made his anxiety skyrocket.

Thick, reinforced blue double doors opened for them, and inside was a barren rectangular room. The rest of the council was already inside, perched in chairs, bored. In the center of the space were three traitors. Their dirty cream gowns, burlap sack-covered heads, and bound wrists and ankles told him as much. Thick metal anchors kept their chained limbs in place. His steps faltered.

One of them was a child…like him. Too young to be committing treason.

“Finally,” Vyctor growled, flicking his wrist and slamming the doors shut with his mind. Slender-framed glasses perched over his upturned nose.

Horris stood with shaky legs, relying heavily on his cane. Matthias didn’t move, but he watched Saren with too much interest. “Saren, boy,” Horris began, beckoning him. For a moment, he didn’t move a muscle—too fixated on the child shivering on the frigid ground. “Saren.” The alpha command was unmistakable.

With a tiny jolt, he walked over to Horris. “Yes, sir?”