I should have been used to it by now, but my body trembled ever so slightly as I was led down into the basement and toward the procedure room by the head priest. No one was allowed in the bare room except for the priests and High Mortis Kato.

My gaze drifted toward the middle of the room where a large metal table waited, leather straps attached to one side. Without fail, every time I saw it, I wanted to run in the other direction.

Now I knew better. I had tried to run, only once, when I was young, and all it had gotten me was more pain. Lashings after the procedure, lacerations on my back before I had even healed from the rest. Excruciating pain that never seemed to end.

I had learned not to run, and so now I obediently walked to the table without even having to be told, though it killed me a little to do it, as if each time was chipping away at something inside me. Would I ever be free of this fear?

Of course not. This is your life, Nepha. Fear and pain, over and over again. Get used to it.

I climbed onto the table and lay face down, holding still as they strapped me in, the leather pulling tight so that my arms and legs couldn’t move an inch.

The table was cold, and I couldn’t help but shiver silently. I was afraid to make a sound, because sometimes, I was almost sure that if I cried or whimpered, then High Mortis Kato deliberately made the procedure even more painful.

His cold fingers drifted along my neck, and I barely held in another shiver. I could count down the minutes until this ended as a way to distract myself, or focus on something good, like Caius’s face when he had told me the news about his promotion.

High Mortis Kato’s fingers stilled on my skin, and I held my breath as he spoke. “I have some news for you.”

Sometimes, the procedure would pass without him saying a single word, and sometimes, he rambled about nothing, the weather, or news around the capital.

I guess today he’s in the mood to talk. I didn’t bother to reply, because he never expected me to.

“I know that your eighteenth birthday is approaching,” he said. “And therefore, I have come to a decision. It is actually something I have been considering for some time.”

Wondering what it could possibly be, I waited, caught in a mix of fear and anticipation. It couldn’t be good, whatever it was. High Mortis Kato had never brought me anything good.

“I have finally decided that this will be the last of our procedures together.”

Of all the things I had expected him to say, that was the very last, and so I couldn’t help but blurt out, “Truly?”

Against my better judgment, hope bloomed in my chest, but alongside it was ice-cold uncertainty. What did this mean? If I had learned anything over the course of my life, it was that nothing good was ever given to me.

So there had to be a catch.

Kato paused, and I braced myself for whatever was coming.

“Naturally, as this is the last of the procedures, it will be longer than all of our previous ones,” he said, each word hitting me like a nail in my skin. “I must extract twice as much.”

And that is the catch. I bit my lip to stop the instinctive whimper that rose up in my throat. If I had to endure that for this to be the last one, I would.

I tried to remain calm as Kato began unbuttoning the back of my dress, slowly exposing my spine to the cold basement air. His fingers were even colder against my skin, tracing the outline of my spine, the vertebrae easily outlined in my thin frame.

His hand left my skin, and there was no time, not even a second to brace myself before a sharp, stabbing pain hit.

A needle was speared into my back, into my spine, withdrawing the bone marrow, to be used in experiments and tests to see if the Tricedium could copy the long-ago feat of bringing the dead back to life without sacrificing pieces of the soul.

Tears dripped from my eyes, hitting the ground and beginning to pool. The pain was like fire racing up my spine, just as agonizing as the first time.

I was half aware of High Mortis Kato speaking with fervor. “This marrow will serve our army of Sancta Mors, the chosen soldiers brought back from death. With each revivification, more of their soul is sacrificed. They descend into darkness, hollow, empty. But if this marrow can keep their souls intact, you will have contributed to the glory of our empire. And you will have finally atoned for being born such an abomination!”

I felt another sharp stab of pain as he extracted the needle, unable to hold back a whimper now.

High Mortis Kato’s fingers brushed over my left hand, and I flinched. Usually, I tucked it under my hip, but now I was gripping the table in pain, exposing the mark.

“When I was first told that the mark of the Sancta Mors was on a newborn who had never been revivified, I could not believe it,” he mused. “Especially an eight-pointed star. Each point should represent one revivification, and we have never had one brought back eight times.”

My insides coiled, still screaming in pain as he went on. “Yet a child who had never experienced death carried such a symbol? I must admit, I first thought you should be sacrificed to the unborn god, done away with before you could create a blight on all of our people. But now…I realize that keeping you alive is better. At least your monstrous life will serve a purpose.”

The words did not hurt me as much as they might have once. I had heard much the same before, that my life was worthless except for this, that I was inhuman, a stain on this place.

I just wanted to leave. I wanted to crawl away and nurse my wounds and celebrate the fact that this was the last time.

And though this was usually the time when Kato would release the straps, instead, he leaned closer, his low voice thrumming unpleasantly near my ear.

“Since this will be the final time, you can scream,” he said, as if he were bestowing me a gift.

An instant later a second needle plunged into my spine, and I could not hold back. I screamed.

***

When I opened my eyes, there was pain. Pain and dirt. I was face down on the floor of my basement room, the priests not even bothering to deposit me on my straw bed after Kato had finished with me.

My back screamed with pain as I pushed up off the floor, my mouth as dry as the Wastelands. Water. I needed water.

But when I crawled to the table by my bed, the small tin cup was empty. Of course they didn’t even bother to leave me something to drink. Why should I have expected any different?

Forcing myself up against the agonizing pain shooting down my spine, I made my way to the door with slow steps. It seemed to take so long, just crossing that small room, and all I wanted was to lie down, but I was desperate for water.

I made it to the hallway, gripping the walls for support until I could stagger on my own, stumbling into the kitchen. Blessedly there was no one there, so it must have been late.

Glancing out the window, I saw the broken moon high in the sky. There was no fresh water as it had all been used for the day, so I cupped my hands in the dirty water lying in the basin for the wash dishes, bringing it up to my mouth and ignoring the bitter, soapy taste.

The water helped, and it felt a little less as if I was dying once my mouth was no longer dry. Now, I could go and lie down for a while.

I started back toward my room, shuffling along when a commotion sounded down the hall.

Instinctively, I ducked into an alcove, letting the shadows hide me as two guards and a priest came into view, dragging a serving boy behind them.

“Please!” he cried. “Please, I meant no harm!”

“I caught you stealing!” the priest hissed. “One of your station should never touch the belongings of a priest. For this you will be thrown into the Wastelands to either starve or be eaten by the Red Hand himself. Unborn god save your soul!”

The boy gave a terrified cry, and I watched, feeling helpless as he was dragged down the hall. Being sent to the Wastelands was not a fate I would wish on anyone. To die under the fire of the dark sun was said to be an excruciating experience.

I started out of the alcove, only to duck back as more feet shuffled down the hall.

I pressed myself to the wall, whimpering in pain as the stone touched my still-healing spine. Slapping a hand over my mouth, I froze at the sound of the familiar, low voice of High Mortis Kato.

He’s talking to the high priest.

“When would you like her transported?” the high priest asked.

“In the morning, as soon as she wakes. We cannot wait. We must take advantage of the death of the Sanguine crown prince. It is a sign that now is the time.”

The high priest nodded. “We have tried to care for the abomination as best we can, though I must admit the priests here will breathe in relief without the nefas afoot.”

They’re talking about me. I’m to be moved? Away from Caius? No!

“Yes,” Kato said. “I have finally gotten the unanimous support of the Tricedium. I have long said the reason the bone marrow wasn’t working was because it was not enough. Now we will do what I’ve always wanted and vivisect the abomination, take her very bones for our work and finally bring about a great era to Anima Mors!”