Read Online Black City by Elizabeth Richards - Free Book Online Page B

it’s warm and inviting, with bright handmade wallpaper and patchwork curtains that are obviously cheap but pretty nonetheless. I expected it to be much dirtier and drab, but there’s actually some color here, and it’s very clean, almost as clean as our house.
    We’re in a small room that seems to be serving as a kitchen–cum–dining room. The wooden furnishings are simple but functional, and on the table in the center of the room is a vase of wildflowers that smells of herbs.
    A plump woman with light brown skin and a round, pretty face enters the kitchen from an adjoining room, her arms laden with clothes. She stops dead when she sees me. Her dark eyes flick from me to Day, then back to me again.
    Her mouth drops open. “Oh, my—”
    “This is Natalie Buchanan, the Emissary’s daughter. Nat, this is my mother, Sumrina,” Day says quickly.
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say.
    “Mama, can Natalie stay for dinner?” Day asks.
    Sumrina nods her head slightly, still dumbstruck.
    Day ushers me down a very short, tight corridor toward her room. The passageway is packed with old books from before the war. Forbidden books. I study their gorgeous covers, admiring the illustrations, the colors, reveling in the vibrancy of it. All books these days look the same, with Sentry regulation red and black covers. Fear crosses Day’s eyes.
    “It’s all right. I have some contraband books myself,” I say, and she relaxes. It’s not the worst offense to be caught with forbidden books; it’s certainly not considered a “grievous crime.” All you’d get is a public flogging, but it still deters most people.
    “They’re my papa’s,” Day explains. “They’ve been here for so long, I don’t even notice them anymore; they’re just part of the furniture. I totally forgot they were there.”
    “So your father likes to read, then?” I say as we enter her cramped bedroom, dropping the textbooks on her desk.
    “He’s a teacher,” she says.
    She indicates for me to sit on the metal-framed bed, while she takes the hard wooden stool by the desk. The walls of her room are covered with photos of the Emissaries of the nine megastates that form the United Sentry States: the cosmopolitan Dominion State; the mining state of Black River, where Black City is found; the ice-capped Mountain Wolf; the wild and dangerous Barren Lands; the industrial Copper State; the tranquil waters of Golden Sands; the ancient Provinces; the farming Plantation State; and the forests of the Emerald State.
    Most of the photos are of Emissary Bradshaw, a fat-cheeked, red-faced man who oversees the Dominion State, where Centrum is located. It’s the most prestigious state and the best position for any Emissary to be given. We stayed with him last year when we were evacuated from Black City. He’s one of the nicer Emissaries, as these things go. They’re not all like my mother; some of them have compassion, such as Emissary Vincent from the Copper State. She recently made it illegal for children under twelve to work in factories.
    “I take it you want to be the Emissary of the Dominion State?” I tease.
    Day’s cheeks turn rose red. “Well, I certainly don’t want to be Emissary of the Barren Lands.”
    I laugh. That job’s a poisoned chalice. All the Emissaries who have been sent to the Barren Lands have been killed within a year, either by Wraths or the outlaws who live there. It’s a very wild place, and the citizens aren’t much nicer. Emissaries only get sent there if they’re being punished.
    There’s not much else in Day’s room except a pile of books by her bed. A photo pokes out of one of the novels, and I take it out. The snapshot’s of her when she was about eight years old. She’s standing outside the church I saw earlier—Ash’s home—with her arm looped over Beetle’s shoulder.
    “You were friends with Beetle?” I ask, taken aback.
    “We were an item for a while. We all met at Minister Fisher’s