Renegade (The Elysium Chronicles #1)(12)

“Not mine. Not yet.” For some reason it’s important for me to make that distinction.

“What is a little girl doing being an assassin?” he asks.

“Enforcer,” I correct again, oddly relieved he’s more curious than frightened. I kneel next to him and adjust my skirt so it lays flat on my legs, and when I glance back up, he’s watching me intently. I realize he’s still waiting for my answer. “All Enforcers are female. They are the only ones selected for the designation.”

“Why?”

“Because females have endurance and dexterity that men lack.” I pull out all my materials and lay them in front of him in the order I will use them. The clove leaves, Egyptian lily petals, the bottle of water from my pond, and my mortar and pestle for grinding all that together into a paste. “Mother tried men, but they never withstood the training.”

“What happened to them?”

My eyes flit to his before focusing back on my task. “They died.”

He watches as I set it all up. His eyes follow each movement of my hands, as if not completely trusting I won’t slip something in there that doesn’t belong. While it should bother me that Gavin doesn’t trust me, the intensity of his gaze has my stomach fluttering with nerves and the heat of a blush creeping up my throat to burn my face.

“But she’s just a kid!”

“Mother also tried older women, but again the training failed. So she just kept trying younger and younger girls until she found an age that worked.”

“Besides Surface Dwellers, why would y’all possibly need assass— Enforcers here anyway?” he asks. “I can’t imagine we’re a threat very often. Especially not when you have to fall off a damned cliff first.”

His eyes give too much away and I don’t want to know what he’s thinking, so I keep my eyes focused on my task.

“Because that is the cost of peace. Everyone must follow the law. If you do not, you are a traitor and will be treated as such.”

“So you kill people who don’t follow the law?” His voice is filled with disgust.

I finally meet his eye. “If it is necessary.”

He shivers, but then his brow furrows. “How does being the Daughter of the People help you treat my wounds?”

“You have asked five questions since you last answered mine.”

He makes a sound like a growl in his throat. “Fine,” he spits out. “Ask away.”

Crushing the leaves and petals, I mix little drops of water into the bowl of the mortar. “You said you were hunting? Why?”

Gavin gives me a look of disbelief. “For food. And fun. How else do you get meat?”

“Well, you grow it, of course.” He starts laughing, and a smile cracks my lips. I’m pleased his disgust isn’t directed at me. “What?”

Still smiling, he says, “You can’t grow meat. It’s not a plant.”

I laugh a little. “I suppose the correct word is raise. You raise cows and chickens. Goats. Pigs. All sorts of strange creatures. So I have read. We don’t have animals here. All our protein comes from vegetables, like soybeans and beets. Fish.”

He frowns, looking disgusted again. “No real meat?”

“We have a whole Sector devoted to raising crops. We can grow almost anything. Because of the dormant volcano that created this trench, we have some of the richest soil in the world. And our scientists have developed ways to make the crops even more nutritious. Plus the fish are plentiful here. Raising domestic animals causes too much waste and requires too much space,” I explain. “We have excellent nutrition, and the cooks are quite talented.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “If you say so. Anyway, we have livestock, but not everybody has the money for it. Besides, fresh game can bring a lot of money. Like, we caught a peacock the other day and we were able to trade the meat for flour, lamp oil, fruit, even some meat from the butcher. I even traded some of the feathers to get a bolt of fabric for my mom.”

I stop crushing the paste and tilt my head to look closer at him. “But if you got meat from the butcher with it, why didn’t you just eat it in the first place?”

He gives me a strange look. “Because for the half pound of peacock I gave him, I got enough meat to feed my family for a month, if we’re careful.”

I still don’t understand. That seems like a really long and complicated circle. “Why don’t you just buy it outright then? Is there no stipend? Do you not have designations? Does the Governess not compensate you for contributions?”

Gavin laughs sharply and leans back against the wall, crossing his arms behind his head. “What Governess? We have a sheriff that makes sure no one kills one another, and a mayor sent from The City who gets paid to sit on his ass in his office and look pretty, but otherwise there’s no one to give us money. We trade and barter for whatever we need. For instance, my mom makes clothes and trades them to the general store for the things we need from there.” He pauses. “You have someone who gives you money?”

“We receive our allotment of credits based on our designations—”

“Designations?”

“Our occupations. Everyone is given a position in our community based on their genetics.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “So, you don’t have a choice of what you do? And you don’t have a problem with that?”