From the first pull it was obvious this arrangement wasn’t going to work. We weren’t about to fall off, since the woven metal rose in high walls around us and curved up over our heads. But there were holes between some of the weaves, and the deck we stood on gave lots of room for us to topple around, with nothing to hold but one another. With each movement we swayed.

To think that before all of this I was trodding through festival tents and buying scarves for Westalyn. I wondered how she’d spent the feast. I’d somehow make this up to her. I couldn’t tell if my latest wave of nausea was coming from whatever sickness the contessa had blessed me with or from imagining what she and my mother might have discussed in my absence.

I found my footing and looked forward with as much focus as I could muster. With the partial glances I got through the bars It looked like we were in the hands of the same set of slugs that had brought us to the palace. Two regular armored slugs  were pulling the guards in their personal chariots, and I had to guess that it would take at last the enormous one to pull us. There was no sign of the contessa or Jiyorga, though I knew they’d be in attendance for the procession.

I kept slipping every time the slug lurched. The Grey weren’t doing any better, which was a small comfort. I tried to reposition myself to the side for better footing, when it stopped suddenly, toppling us all sideways. I was lying on the floor with my left side scraped up and the line of Grey had fallen toward and on top of me.

"GET OFF!" I shouted, panicking. I’d never felt the weight of another person before, and the Grey were coated in unbathed filth. I could smell it on their robes. Greasy strands of hair were brushing over my exposed arm. My nausea was back in full-swing.

Everyone knew that if you happened to touch a Grey you needed to wash immediately, and I should have bathed already after the journey yesterday. I just had to hope the Grey stench didn’t get into my robes.

They were slow beings, most built thick and stout. Since we’d all fallen in a heap, my feeble attempts to push at them were futile. I groaned.

I did a lot of yelling after that too. Any time it lurched forward or slowed down, we’d be flung toward one side of the chariot. When we stopped I’d be scraped and bruised and buried, and when we started I’d trip into them. If I had any paint left on my face, it was definitely coming off now.

You’d think we’d get better at catching ourselves, but when your own footing is dependent on five other people whose strong-suit wasn’t exactly learning, and you’re drugged with something magical from the planetary palace, you aren’t exactly at your best. One of the stops following that was so sudden we at the back were flung into the air. One of the Grey ahead of me hit his head on a light-metal strand, then hit the floor unconscious. I managed to block my own impact with my shoulder, snapping my arm out of place. On top of losing my paint I was going to be discolored there too. What a way to greet the people.

The Drawing ceremony was the biggest celebration of the festival, and the Procession was the grand finale. No one missed the Procession. It was the only event the contessa attended personally.  In previous years I’d watched the Grey walk, on display for our satisfaction, on the high platform over the festival grounds. They had always looked more tattered than usual up there, and now I knew why. And the damage was only going to become more severe once we took to the platform. I was starting to shake.

When the grounds came into view I was scraped all over, and my skin was leaking fluid. I’d never seen a grown Lumen injured before. It hurt. My heart was racing uncontrollably in my chest as we slowed outside the large tent where I’d taken Westalyn to the show the day before. All of the Centrisle population, and thousands of visitors from the other stretches of Palunia would be on the other side, ready to use me for their entertainment.

I wasn’t going to let that happen. I couldn’t. I drew in a deep breath and gripped the nearest piece of the metal piping. I wouldn’t go. I was a Lumen, and beyond that, a lord of house Ju Demma. A few words and a ballot in amber weren’t going to take that away from me. I outranked these guards and it was about time they learned it.

“Hey!” I shouted to the Grey in front of me. The chariot was slowing down. He, or she, didn’t turn to face me. “GREY, you will obey me.”

They spun around, and actually looked conflicted. Like they were starting to see me as an equal. I fumed, and wondered what my face looked like. With a rush of anxious anger I scanned the vessel around me. We were beneath one of those gemstones, next to a gaping hole in the side of the chariot. I tugged on the length of chain between myself and the Grey I’d been shouting at, hard. They toppled toward me. I didn’t stop there, pulling continuously until they came to me on their own.

Should be enough, I decided. I was dripping liquid under the hot sun, but couldn’t secure my hood properly with my arms chained. We were coming to a stop. There was no time left.

I climbed onto the lowest metal tube. One upside to lacking shoes was that I stuck to it, but it was hot. I let it burn at me; this would be worth it. I scrambled upward, grabbing hold of the next piece and pulling myself up. Just a little more and I’d be able to wrap myself around the outside. I reached forward with my arm, leaning in to reach the next one, when the chain went taut.

"Come up here!" I called down to the Grey. They didn’t move at first. I gave the best tug upward I could. "You help me with this, or so help me, I will make sure you end up in a cell instead of a ship."

They looked at me. They either understood my words or my tone, because they lifted themselves (slowly) up the first woven tube.

It gave me the slack to get over. I started to climb out of the chariot when I noticed a red guard coming up the ladder on the other side. He didn’t see me. I kicked off the side of the chariot wall with a grunt.

It wasn’t enough. As my body swung back toward the vessel I put both feet in front of me, knees bent. This time I kicked hard, giving no resistance. On pure momentum I swung up over the bar, looping my chain around it, and suspending the Grey above the ground on the other side. I heard the clink of the chain sticking and waited, wondering if I should have brought a Grey down with me. I forced myself to look up, where the morning sun was coming toward center-sky, hotter and brighter by the minute. I was pleased to see my plan was in motion.

I’d gotten to the other side of the large, red gem—a fire gem. It was said that they could light anything that wasn’t blessed by the wizards, as long as they could absorb enough light. I waited, hoping and pleading with any wizards who might take my side.

I was ready to hang my head and weep when I caught sight of something. Smoke. The links supporting me were starting to smoke all around the gem. I watched them distort and melt until they snapped and I fell.

There’s no feeling quite like coughing up a mouthful of sand. My hood had come off entirely, leaving my hairless head exposed. The guards would be up there now, noticing me gone. I scrambled to my feet to break into a run when a sudden burst of pain seared in my right shoulder, causing me to fall onto my face.

They yanked me up, which tore at my wound. I was nauseated all over again, and my eyes couldn’t focus. I glanced over to see what was wrong with me. A long, dark object had gone through my shoulder. They’d speared me. I couldn’t keep the sickness down anymore.

When they re-chained me to the group and forced us to walk I was a mess. We were being herded into the tent from the back, and I still had a spear through my shoulder. All I’d done was expedite the process of bodily harm by jumping down here of my own accord. Just don’t look, I kept repeating to myself, preparing for my walk. Don’t look at them. I heard cheering and Jiyorga’s voice calling out over the crowd. I’d done everything I could. I wasn’t going to get out of this.

The cheering turned to cries of celebration when the first Grey left the tent and entered the public eye. The Procession was a walk across a suspended bridge, which was set up the night before during the feast. The festival grounds would be largely empty now to make room for the hundreds of thousands of people that wouldn’t miss this for the world.

The walk was an hour long. Each of the twelve were subject to the most direct and severe humiliation. Which, for a Grey, wasn’t much different from the rest of their days. For me though...it was going to be painful. While I hoped they’d recognize me for the Lumen I was and reserve their impulse to mock me, it was going to be mockery enough walking the length of that bridge. The only thing I could say for sure was that this would be recorded in the history tomes.

One after the other we entered. And with each one my chest tightened and my breath shortened. Ten more. Nine. I can’t do this. I can’t. No, no, no.

“Guards, are you sure you want to make this mark on Lumenkind?” I asked, hoping I appeared a lot calmer than I felt. I’d learned plenty of theory about diplomacy, but it wasn’t something I’d ever had to practice.

One of the red cloaks looked at me, then wiggled the spear in my shoulder. I fell to the ground, jerking the line of Grey back toward me and spilling my wound-water all over myself. I was seething with rage and agony. I could pull the spear out and...and swing my untrained arm at a guard while the other stood and watched? I could leak to death with my wound exposed?

Grunting, I pushed myself up with my unwounded arm and somehow got back on my feet. I gritted my teeth and stepped forward, joining the line.

Three...two...It was my turn. I could hear them. I could see them. The one’s nearest to the tent could see me too, and they were pointing and whispering with whoever they were standing nearest. The Grey kept on going though. And the force of five brutes overpowered my best stance. They tugged at my footing and I let them. I could at least walk with what little pride I had remaining.

I took my first step out onto the bridge. The cheering began to quiet as two guards came and clipped my chains. At first I saw nothing, shocked by the sudden brightness of morning light. I’d forgotten to pull my hood back on. As I scrambled for it with my cramped, unspeared arm, I felt their stares, their judgement, their mockery. I had nothing left to do but take it.

Hundreds of thousands of Lumen in all directions watched me. Patches of Grey gathered too—some to document the event in paintings, while others joined as part of the crowd. It was the only public event in which Grey and Lumen weren’t segregated. And no one seemed to mind. They were all too busy watching me.

There were several crossings along the way, where two guards stood ready to force you along if you grew too tired or tried to escape. After about ten minutes of walking the first one came into view. When I got close enough to see their faces I caught one of the red cloaks giving me a look, his eyes dancing from mine to the spear in my shoulder. I forced a wide smile and waved erratically with my other hand. As I passed between them they tore at my gem-covered cloak, stopping me in my tracks while they ripped it to shreds, tossing the morsels into the crowd.

Naked, I continued down the bridge with my head down. Insults and awful noises boomed and echoed around me, but it was like they were coming from somewhere far away. I was lost in my own thoughts, though I couldn’t put words to any of them. The noise kept intensifying though, until it forced my concentration.

I glanced up for just a moment. The contessa’s Grey were marching behind me with their dreaded instruments. That was about the only thing that could make this worse. My face twisted, and I dared to look out into the crowd. Extravagant lights, oversized jewelry displays, celebratory banners were everywhere. Yes, what a wonderful, blessed day this is. Celebrating the fact that I was being actively humiliated and was about to be sent off to die. Didn’t they see how wrong this was? Maybe I’m not as much like them as I thought.

After the next checkpoint the throwing began. Throwing stones was tradition. “Gives the Grey a bit of color to remember us by,” Jiyorga had told me as a child. Now the thought made me sick. I watched them hurl rocks of various sizes at the two Grey ahead of me. A mix of simple desert stone and cheap, sharp gems. I wondered if my people would actually throw them at me.

I didn’t have long to wait. They pelted us without discrimination. Or maybe I got the brunt of it. I was the last, so I was getting whatever was left in their hands. I thought I saw some people hesitating, but they quickly joined their friends in whipping them at my body. They hit me everywhere, and I had nothing to cover myself with. At best I deflected a few with my spear, which was so excruciating I fell over a few times. But somehow I stayed on the bridge, and somehow I kept getting up.

Ahead of me a particularly large and fast-moving stone hit one of the Grey men, knocking him to the ground.  He leaked red water and stopped moving. Guards rushed over from behind me to remove him. He’d probably be replaced. Maybe they could kill me here too. I paused, really considering just stopping and facing the crowd, but I was a coward.

I made it to the end. I trembled and stumbled a lot of the way, worse off than many of the Grey, since they’d already passed the finish. I was handed crew robes, but I was too broken to examine them. My head was throbbing, my skin was burnt, I was dehydrated, and I was covered in wounds. How I was still alive was beyond me. I collapsed then onto the staircase leading away from the bridge.

I came to a moment later, as several guards placed their hands on me. I expected to be lifted, to be carried to a healing center. As many held me in place, one of them placed his boot on my back and dug in hard. He then yanked the spear.

I yelled and cursed over the sounds of celebration. The crowd couldn’t see me here. I was entirely in the guards’ control. Around me dark blue water leaked and began to drip down the stairs.

Next Chapter: The Contessa’s Big Reveal