The Ravaged World (Book 2 of the Exiles Series)

Seventeen: Magnus

Numbness overtakes me for almost two months after I find out about Ari.

The funeral and several interviews pass in a colorless blur. I struggle to keep going, providing only the shortest answers without arousing concern, and doing everything as I'm supposed to. I know that I should try harder to stay alert, but I just can't, and Avalon takes advantage of that.

Instead of having me attend meetings, Avalon goes. She writes me scripts for interviews. If I break that script, even by a word, there are consequences. But instead of struggling against my chains, I let Avalon take the reins. I know this is what she wants, but I don't want anyone else to die because of my defiance.

When I can, I talk to Max. Just talking to someone on the outside, especially someone so involved with an organization that supports me, makes me at least feel little bit better.

With the attack now moved to late winter, I have less time left to tough it out until that day comes. He tells me that they're planning to attack at night, when there are the least amount of people out and about, and about his new love interest: Nicole. On the island, her and I were never on good terms, so I can't say I'm thrilled with his choice, but I try to be supportive.

And then there's college. Max says he hates it, but I think he likes the freedom. He's gained support from more people, powerful people, and even fuzed his group with others from outside our city. Besides the island, I can't say I knew there was much else out there. The fact that there are more rebel sympathizers outside of the city is kind of exciting.

I try not to discuss my problems. It's something I tend to avoid. Max of course knows about Ari's death, but I haven't completely filled him in on Avalon. If I did, I fear that Max would drop everything and choose to have the invasion earlier, which wouldn't allow for much planning.

. . .

I wake up one morning to it snowing. The first snow. Small flakes drift from the dreary sky, not making it far before dissolving into murky puddles on the pavement, my porch, any surface it can find purchase.

"Hey, telescreen," I yawn, the tablet chirping in acknowledgement, "what's the date?"

I see the screen turn on, glowing bright in the darkness of my bedroom, and a robotic voice replies, "The date is December 5, 2122. The time is 7:19 a.m. Silver standard time. Is there anything else you would like me to search?"

I ignore my tablet, thinking to myself, Wait, what, it's December? When did this happen? Oh, yeah, my brain chides to itself, five days ago. I should tell Ari about my...I suddenly feel weak and weary. Oh, yeah.

I manage showering and breakfast, then school and working out (I don't trip on the treadmill this time), and shuffle through the rest of my day until I go to bed early. I do this again and again.

December tenth arrives. When I wake up, the day feels different but I can't explain why.

I soon figure out when I walk downstairs, and there are people everywhere. And I mean, everywhere. All kinds of people: reporters, guards, Avalon up to something, and more. Cameras snap as I descend the staircase. Avalon glares at me until I put on a smile, and when I do it's fake and strange.

Just as I get to the bottom of the stairs, I remember: today's my birthday. My sixteenth one, to be exact. A milestone. One that's sure to have an excessive party, giant cake and anybody who's anybody there. But I don't want a party, or anything special. The last thing I want to do is make small talk with these strangers, or have rich teenage girls that I don't even know invading my home and stalking me the whole night of the party. But I know it's going to happen, because it's never up to me.