Free EXALTED (An Exalted Novel) by Tara Elizabeth

does my heart. I have to physically hold my hand over my mouth to keep from alerting anyone of my presence. I’m panicked, because I know that the guards in the watchtower have killed a marauder. Was it the one that helped me? Was he here looking for me? If so, he’s dead.
    Three Exalted men storm the East Gate to see what’s happening with their fellow brethren. They go to help . . . They go to protect the Republic.
    Night has fallen over the city and the eerie fields beyond the wall. I fear I will be late for curfew, but I risk it because I want to see what happens. Over the wall, I can just make out two large figures coming back from the edges of the fields. As they get closer, I can see that they’re dragging something behind them—something that can only be a dead body.
    Is it him? Is it the Exalted marauder?

THIRTEEN
     
    The watchtower shines a spotlight on the guards below to illuminate a clear path as they drag the body behind them. Their heads bob behind the stalks as they walk between the rows of corn. They’re moving quickly, and I know I’ll be able to see them in seconds.
    Just as they’re about to immerge from the end of the field, the city’s wall obscures the scene. I can’t see the body. I try to climb higher, but the branches are too thin to hold me. They snap under my weight. My foot slips and my body follows. My bare ankle scrapes along the coarse bark of the tree as I fall. I wince in pain, but catch my footing again several branches down.
    As I hug the tree and hold my breath, I keep perfectly still. I’m paralyzed. I’m feeling something that I’ve yet to experience—something with great intensity. I don’t have words for it, but it is not pleasant.
    Suddenly the pain in my ankle disappears and is replaced with a pain in my chest. It’s aching for someone I only met once, before I was truly alive.
    Let’s be honest , I tell myself. I never actually met him. I don’t even know his name, where he came from, or what his intentions were for telling me about the Pump. So why do I feel this way? As though I care what happens to him?
    I’m finally able to creep my way down the magnolia tree and scurry back to the dorms while most of the Exalted guards are occupied at the East Gate. I slip into the stairwell and listen for the monitor citizens making their rounds. The Republic doesn’t waste their precious Exalted on dorm patrols, they simply assign two monitor citizens to each floor. If they catch someone breaking curfew, they force them to scan their thumb on their portable scanner. The following day, a punishment will be dealt by a high-ranking Exalted. Of course, no one ever breaks curfew, so I’ve never heard what the punishment is for such an offense. Since I don’t want to find out what that punishment will be, I take caution climbing the stairs until I reach my floor.
    The high-pitched whine of the old door worries me as I push it open a crack. I mentally command it to be silent. It doesn’t obey. I peek through the tiny opening and wait for the monitor citizens to pass by on their rounds. I don’t have to wait long before the first one turns the corner. He’s dressed in all brown. He has on a plain cotton top and pants with plain shoes. They squeak on the smooth floor as he walks. He doesn’t notice me. His gaze is empty and unfocused.
    I wait. Moments later the second monitor approaches, and likewise walks the distance of the corridor, disappearing around the far corner. I watch for one more cycle, and determine that they are approximately three minutes apart.
    In an effort to be quiet, I remove my clunky boots, hold them close to my chest, and hurry down the hall after the citizen disappears from sight. My door squeaks only a little when I open it and slide in. I press my forehead against the surface of the door. My shoulders drop, and I sigh in relief. The monitor citizens didn’t catch me.
    A light switches on behind me, and until now, I had all but forgotten about my