Read Online The Scorpion Rules by Erin Bow - Free Book Online

you.”
    Elián’s eyes flashed; he drew a hard breath as if to speak in fury. But then he froze. Under his shirt something was moving.
    I looked closer: just there, where the samue top crossed itself at his breastbone, something was poking out. A metal wire or . . . It was a mechanical leg. It took me a moment to make sense of it. A nursery spider—the tiny proctors that were the caretakers and pets and playthings of the very youngest children. There was one over Elián’s heart. Something else moved in one sleeve, and a third thing above one knee.
    He did not wince. But he said nothing.
    â€œWell, Elián?” the Abbot prompted.
    And then, suddenly, Da-Xia spoke up. “Good Father . . . this cohort—we are quite stable.”
    The Abbot turned to her, smiling. “Indeed, Da-Xia. I’ve long thought so.”
    â€œSo perhaps, Father,” she said, “we could absorb some small disruption?”
    The Abbot steepled his fingers. Ceramic ticked off aluminum. “An interesting thought. Are you advising me to let Elián join you?”
    â€œIf it’s not too forward of me, Father.”
    â€œForwardness is indeed your weakness, my dear.” The Abbot hummed thoughtfully. “But you have a generous heart.” He looked up and addressed us generally. “What do you think, Children? Could you be a stabilizing influence on our newest, hmmm, inductee?”
    The eyes of the cohort turned to me.
    Well. It was gratifying to be acknowledged as leader, but I was not sure what to do. It would cost Xie if I contradicted her. And yet, to tie the entire cohort’s fate to this half-savage boy? We’d already lost the water. That would only be the beginning. It was on my tongue to say, No .
    But then the spider over Elián’s heart moved. He caught my eye. I had once thought him a slave because I’d seen him in chains. But if he was a slave now, he was a slave at auction. His eyes were both asking and defying.
    â€œWe can but try, Father,” I said.
    â€œMy dear Greta. That’s all anyone can ask.” The Abbot hummed to himself thoughtfully, then decided. “Sit, Elián.”
    So Elián sat, beside me, at Sidney’s desk.
    There were little beads of sweat in the soft down of his hairline. He was shivering. The Abbot smiled. “Yesterday was perhaps too harsh an introduction for you, my son. It was my mistake and I apologize for it. We will try again, and strive for more order.”
    The Abbot’s manner was judicial. “So,” he said. “I think you introduced a topic yesterday, Mr. Palnik.”
    Elián paled a fraction. Peeking out from under his collar, a spider leg moved against his throat. “. . . I, uh, don’t remember that.”
    â€œHmmm.” The Abbot looked puzzled, his fingers ticking together. “The Third Servile War? You wanted to discuss it?”
    The spider shifted under Elián’s shirt. He was sitting absolutely still. “I’m sure you’re right, Abbot, but—” On the word “but” Elián jerked, provoked by nothing I could see. He shivered and gathered his breath. We all held ours, waiting for him to finish his sentence. “I—I—” he stuttered, and his next words tumbled out too fast. “Honestly, I don’t remember, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    â€œHmmm.” The Abbot’s facescreen creaked on its swivel joint as he turned. “Greta, I think you’re probably our best Romanist. Perhaps you would favor us with a précis of the Third Servile War. Help Mr. Palnik orient himself.”
    â€œThe Third—” I began.
    â€œStand up,” the Abbot said.
    It felt like a rebuke, a threat. I stood with my stomach twisting, taking inventory. What had I done, yesterday, with Elián in the potatoes, with Xie in our room? Was there anything for which I could be