Vessel by Lisa T. Cresswell Page A

the lock turned, and the door opened.
    A hooded figure in a red robe stepped in and handed me an identical garment.
    “Put this on,” he said. “Hurry.”
    I got up off the floor, my arms aching, and took the heavy woolen robe. “Where am I?”
    “You are safe in the Gora Compound among the Reticents. Get dressed.”
    “Reticents?” I murmured, trying to understand.
    “Come,” was all he said as he turned and left the room. I threw on the robe and hurried after him, glad to be out of my solitary confinement at least.
    Tubes of light like the glass ball in my room dimly lit the hall he disappeared down. The tubes snaked along the walls, glowing a faint blue. I ran after him, still barefoot, my feet slapping the slick floor.
    I caught up to him but stayed a step or two behind. The floor sloped downward as we walked, and I had the feeling we were going deeper into the fortress. No windows anywhere. No escape in sight.
    A familiar odor hit my nose when we reached a pair of heavy doors, and he pulled one open. My stomach suddenly ached from the smell of butter, warm bread, and rich, greasy meat drippings. After the dark hallway, the room nearly blinded me with the brightness of the light in the ceiling. I blinked, wanting to both open and close my eyes at the same time.
    Men and women, some old, some young, most dressed in red, sat at several long tables eating the food that smelled so good. I had to have some. I didn’t hesitate when my guide pointed me toward the food line. Someone handed me a bowl of meat stew, someone else, a hunk of bread. I followed the people ahead of me to a table. Oblivious to everyone else, I crammed the bread into my mouth, hardly chewing enough to savor the flavor of the creamy butter on it.
    In fact, I wolfed down everything I had and looked up for more. I studied the line wondering if seconds were allowed here. I didn’t really need more. My belly was full, but I was accustomed to stuffing myself when there was plenty, to make up for the times when there wasn’t.
    Glancing around, I noticed someone at the next table staring at me. His hair was different now, short and spiky, but it was clearly Tiber. The corners of his cracked lips curled when he saw me recognize him but otherwise he didn’t move. More questions sprang to mind, twice as bad as before.
    What’s he doing here? What am I doing here? Are all these people captive?
    “What is this place?” I asked the boy next to me. Silent stares were all I received from several people at my table.
    In fact, no one in the entire room spoke. They finished their meals and delivered their empty dishes to a hole in the wall as they filed out of the room. My guide, who’d disappeared, found me again and directed me to follow him along with two other boys, one older and one younger than me. Both looked as confused as I felt.
    The larger groups ahead of us turned down different hallways until we were the last ones left. The guide ushered us into a round room with a high-domed ceiling. Another hooded figure waited for us to enter, and then closed the door behind us with a heavy thud.
    “Welcome. Please stand around the platform,” said the figure as he pointed to a round, raised area in the center of the dark room. Lights like candles with no flame illuminated the floor.
    “Who are you?” asked one of my cohorts.
    “I am Master Bane, your teacher. I’m sure you have many questions. They’ll all be answered presently. Please pay attention.”
    His voice was warm and reassuring. I felt my innards unknot a bit listening to its singsong quality.
    “You are among the Reticents now. You’re safe.”
    I never would’ve put “Reticents” and “safe” in the same sentence.
    “If Mother Sun wills it, you may join us one day.”
    Join the Reticents? What nonsense is this? I’m not joining this crazy cult!
    “Observe.” Bane touched a panel on the wall, and the platform erupted in light. “The first of many lessons.”
    An unnatural blue