Crystal Keepers by Brandon Mull

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    â€œName?” she asked.
    â€œBubba Boone,” Cole said. “B-U-B-B-A.”
    As Cole watched, Mira went on record as Shannon Boone, Jace became Hampton Boone, and Dalton became Kevin son of Mark. Cole was the first kid to receive a dark green ID card. He hefted it, stroking the metallic surface with his thumb. “Why isn’t it blue like yours?” Cole asked Joe.
    â€œYou’re under sixteen,” Joe said.
    Jace and Mira accepted their cards. Dalton got his last. It was bloodred.
    â€œSlave color?” he asked, holding it up to the lady behind the counter.
    She gave a curt nod, then looked beyond him. “Next.”
    Joe herded Cole and the others over to a nearby wall. “Wait here while I buy tickets,” he instructed.
    As soon as he walked off, Jace turned to Dalton. “I’m thirsty, slave boy,” he said. “Fetch me a drink.”
    Dalton scowled.
    â€œDon’t make a scene, Kevin,” Jace warned. “We all have to do our part.”
    â€œYes, Your Highness,” Dalton said.
    â€œI’m not royalty,” Jace explained. “Master will do.”
    â€œKnock it off,” Cole said. “It isn’t his fault he wasn’t around when Declan changed our bondmarks to freemarks.”
    â€œWasn’t my fault I had a bondmark to begin with,” Jace countered. “If our slave just stands around all the time and never serves us, how realistic does that look? It’s safer for him and for us if he plays the part.”
    Cole could tell Jace enjoyed bossing Dalton around, and he was probably getting in some retaliation for the hidden saddle, but it was hard to argue against his point. They wanted to blend in.
    â€œIt’s okay,” Dalton said. “Do you want a drink, Mira? Cole?”
    â€œSure,” Mira said. “Thanks.”
    â€œWon’t that be a lot to carry?” Cole asked.
    â€œI’ll manage,” Dalton said.
    â€œDon’t forget to hold any doors open for us,” Jace said. “Be the first to stand, the last to sit. Treat us like masters. Work to keep us comfortable. Anticipate our needs. And try not to jump into any conversations free people are having.”
    â€œAren’t you getting carried away?” Cole said.
    â€œI was a slave for a long time,” Jace said. “Believe me, I know how they’re supposed to behave.”
    â€œThanks, master,” Dalton said with some sarcasm. He walked away.
    â€œHow is he supposed to find drinks?” Cole wondered. “He doesn’t have any money.”
    â€œA good slave would figure it out,” Jace said.
    â€œI understand playing our roles,” Mira said. “But, Jace, you don’t have to enjoy it so much.”
    Jace chuckled and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m just grateful to be free.”
    â€œI’d think that would include some empathy for those still stuck as slaves,” Mira said.
    â€œWe’re just pretending he’s our slave,” Jace reminded her.
    â€œBut we’re not pretending he’s a slave,” Cole said. “He’s been a slave since he got here. His bondmark is real.”
    â€œSometimes you two are unbelievably boring,” Jace said, turning his back on them and shuffling a few steps away.
    A few minutes later, Joe returned with Dalton behind him. Joe held a can of soda. Dalton carried four others. He handed one to Cole, another to Mira, and a third to Jace.
    Cole inspected the orange can. The word “POW!” slanted across it in thick yellow letters. It had a pull tab just like the soda cans back home. Cole popped the top and took a sip. The bubbly liquid fizzed in his mouth and down his throat. It tasted sweet, the orange flavoring enhanced by a hint of vanilla.
    â€œThat’s not bad,” Cole said, licking his lips. “I haven’t had a soda since I came here.”
    Jace squinted at the top of the can, first