Page 18 of Petals for Vicious Secrets

No pity. Not after anyone who came to the Trading knew what could happen. Not after there had been more people dying every single week for the past few months. Not after the attempt on Nina’s life. Not after her mother almost bleed out two weeks ago. It wouldn’t happen again, because she would kill them first.

Focus. In and out. And their job would be done. And they would go home. And they would be safe.

The sandglass marked less than five minutes left until post meridiem, when the sun would be above them in a straight line. Less than five minutes to analyze the unusually flat shape under the massive cloth hanging on top of the long Trading Table.

The previous week, Hope had only seen one big mountain shaped lump under the cloth, which then turned up to be a big pile of clothes, and the rest of the table was an uneven surface under the white textile that later revealed warm food with stomach-aching delicious smells, and lots of weapons and a big chunk of random things.

Four minutes left. Today, from her distance to the Table, Hope could only see a flat-line covering all the length of the huge rectangular table that spread horizontally in front of her, and two tall pointy ends right at the end of the table, the cloth then dropping to the floor.

Three minutes left. The Table was annoyingly symmetrical. In a place full of nature like Verdania, such perfect bilateral symmetry was not unseen, but it was unusual. She had seen stunning flowers in full bloom and the mirror image of the trees reflecting on the still waters of a small lake that seemed to challenge perfection.

Two minutes. The Trading was nothing remotely close to perfection. Hope looked around the wide circle of people surrounding the Table. More than a hundred had come. Maybe over two hundred. Everyone was waiting for the last grain of sand to fall and the cloth to drop before making the run. Before being exposed to the fights and kills that would take place. How many of them would still be alive at the end of the Trading? How many people would end up dead today because the Rulers kept playing this wicked game every single week?

One minute. Nina was doing small jumps next to her, a final last attempt at warming up her body. Nina had been one of the first eleven people to reach the Table the previous week. She had been positioned right in front of Hope across the Table. Hope felt her mother move to adapt to the position of a runner about to sprint. Hope half kneeled her back leg to get to run.

The last grain of sand fell down. And the cloth was gone.

“What the…” Hope breathed in, unable to move as she saw an empty table. An empty table with two tall poles on each side, in front of dozens of people, waiting to get what they needed.

Aurora was running, already a good few meters ahead, Nina a few steps behind her but close enough that they were likely to reach the Table at the same time.

“Hope, run!” her mother shouted over her shoulder with an angry voice, as if she couldn’t believe Hope remained still on her starting spot. “Right. Fucking. Now.”

Hope, taken aback as if her face had been slapped, wasted no time and ran as fast as she possibly could. She had to be faster than usual to catch her mother and Nina, as they had a few seconds of advantage. A few seconds that would separate them from the rest. That would prove vital on a normal Trading Day.

Hope was not sure if it was wise to run to an empty table, but everyone else was running to it. Had the Rulers decided to stop pretending they were generous by giving Verdania’s villagers weekly provisions? She trusted her mother, and if she was running, so would Hope.

A tall blond man in his twenties was going to reach the Table first. He was merely a few meters away, right across the middle of the Table in front of where Hope, Nina and Aurora were going to be soon. And then Hope saw his face slammed against an invisible wall and he was on the floor, out of her visual reach.

“What the Cardinals’ fuck?!” Hope heard the blond man shouting at the sandglass right above the Table, as if it were alive and would respond to him.

The other faster runners had slowed their pace. Some people behind them had completely stopped, not daring step closer to the empty surface that was waiting for them on the Table. Hope would not be surprised if some people had turned around altogether and gone home, feeling like she was surer by the seconds about the high chances of this being a trap or some sort of damned joke.

Her mother’s hands turned upward, palms vertical against the invisible wall that was preventing them from reaching the Trading Table. They were less than a step away from the center of the Table. The expensive wooden surface shone under the sun, completely empty. Save for two long wooden poles at the ends that seemed to be part of the Table as they emerged right from the surface.

“What is happening?” Hope asked quietly between Nina and her mother, looking from one side to the other of the wide table, as more people were approaching it and stayed carefully behind the invisible wall. The blond man managed to stand up and was right in front of Nina, on the other side of the Table. His face showed an enormous bruise beginning to form across the middle part of his forehead, chin and nose that appeared broken.

Hope looked at both sides of the table, to the poles, then at the sandglass hanging in mid-air a few meters above them. The sandglass had always been there, since Aurora’s first Trading. But this? Whatever today’s Trading was about had never happened before. Or at least not in any of the over a thousand Trading Days her mother had attended during the last twenty-four years.

“Hope, stay here. Nina, move to the pole on your side. Discreetly. Now.” Her mother’s voice was quiet but firm, with no hesitation. It was the voice of a captain. The voice of someone used to command people. The voice of someone who had been used to having her orders obeyed without questions asked.

Before Hope could ask what they were meant to do, Nina was walking to the right end of the Table and her mother towards the left, both swiftly moving across the multiple people lining around the Table that they could not touch. Hope looked behind her back and saw at least three people standing right behind her. If she needed to leave, she would have to go through them.

The sound of the last few running steps on the back faded, as if everyone who had decided to join this Trading had already arrived at the standing crowd. Some people were looking at each other. There were lots of brows frowned and lips in flat lines, a few people taking deep breaths or cursing in lower voices. No one seemed to dare speak out loud. Not as everyone standing around them had weapons as well.

Hope had been gripping the hilt of one of her sharp daggers since her mother had signaled for them to stop from running into the invisible wall. Her other hand was ready to grab one sword on her back as soon as she needed to.

The sandglass above them made a metallic clicking noise and started turning sideways. Hope looked at it carefully, as if it were a wild animal about to attack her. A voice resounded around the Trading arena, as if it was coming from it, from the sky and from the ground at the same time. It was a voice old and new, male and female, sharp and soft.

“Esteemed guests of the Trading Table. With great aspirations to restore the harmonious communion of Verdania, we take immense pleasure in offering you the fulfillment of your most profound necessity. It is imperative that you partake of this gift in privacy. With the warmest of regards, The Ruling Body.”

Hope felt her blood freezing in her veins. She forced herself to stop looking at the sandglass and looked at the Trading Table. Right at the same moment, a thick depth of green grass covered the table, and dozens of unique roses appeared sticking from it. The last grass space of the Table was covered with a specially short but large white rose with no leaves but massive thorns.

“Are they taking the fucking piss?” said the blond man in front of her, his eyebrows raised and his jaw tense.

Hope said nothing, but couldn’t agree more. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Had the Rulers seriously swapped the Trading for… A full-on fucking flower festival? Everyone else remained still and quiet, as if waiting for the voice to say something else. But it didn’t.

The blond man slowly stretched an arm in front of him and tried to reach the Table. And he managed to do so, the invisible wall gone.

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