Welcome to ELYSIUM!
Part 2 of The Sovereign Trilogy has officially been released!
The second novel in author AJ Whitney’s dystopian Young Adult trilogy is now available for purchase, and we couldn’t be more excited to help AJ keep telling her incredible story!
First, a bit about the novel, which is the sequel to her incredible debut novel, Sovereign:
What happens when you believe the wrong people?
For the first time in over 300 years, Harper’s village refused to sacrifice its Orphans to the almighty Sovereign—until the gods appeared and took the children by force.
Now, Harper and her friends find themselves in the underground city of Elysium that was only a few miles away the entire time.
And the Sovereign aren’t gods at all.
Harper and her friends must make a choice: return to the surface for a few short years before succumbing to an inevitable illness, or stay in Elysium and help save humanity.
If only they knew that the villagers above have received a chilling new message from the Sovereign, and they will heed it with reckless abandon.
We took what was owed. Repent or pay the price.
And you can keep reading below for the entire first chapter!
Chapter 1: Aftermath
Cool mist hung in the chilly spring air, clinging to the freshly tilled earth, the blades of bright new grass springing up, and the dozens of bodies that lay strewn about. It moistened her dark skin as she lay in a heap on the ground, her fallen rifle only inches from her slack fingers. Whatever happened here had left quite a scene throughout the small rural settlement, had anyone been conscious to behold it. Person after person lay on the ground outside, rifles, knives, and other weapons dropped nearby. The village was littered with slumbering bodies, and not one in their beds.
A slight groan—more like a whimper—escaped Maggie’s dark lips as her eyelids began to flutter. She reached up and cradled her aching head in her hand. The morning light, dull though it was through the spring fog, was overwhelming even through her eyelids. She flinched against it, squeezing her eyes shut tighter. Her bed did not feel as warm or as comfortable as usual.
Whatever this illness was, she would simply have to fight through it. There were cows who needed milking, eggs that needed collecting, water to be brought in from the pump, and breakfast to be made. The girls would help, of course, but Maggie would have to get herself up and moving.
“John,” she croaked, though no discernible sound passed through her lips. Attempting to roll over to her husband, she discovered that her legs were sprawled in odd and painful directions. One arm was pinned beneath her back. She slowly unfolded her throbbing body. Pins and needles spread through her limbs as blood flow returned to them.
She tried to call out for John again, but she simply couldn’t activate her vocal cords. She swallowed hard and realized there was nothing there to swallow. Her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton.
Maggie turned onto her right side and, unable to find the edge of her bed, pressed her hands down beneath her to bring herself up onto her knees. Feeling cool soil beneath her fingers, she startled ever so slightly. She opened her eyes a crack and peered through her lashes to find that she was not in her bed at all. She pushed herself upright, but a crack of pain blasted through her skull. She swayed with ferocious dizziness and landed back upon the earth.
This time, she opened her eyes from where she lay. She turned her head slowly to one side and found another man beginning to come to. Turning her head to the other side, she discovered her beloved John, face down in the dirt, rifle discarded. He wasn’t moving. She couldn’t tell if he was even breathing.
Panic spreading through her bones, Maggie tried again to rise to her feet but failed. Instead, she crawled on her belly until she reached him. She struggled to turn his body through waves of pain and dizziness that threatened to overtake her. In agony, she lay across his silent form, putting her head against his chest, and waited. Finally, she felt his ragged breaths and heard his slow, steady heartbeat. She began to weep into him, wracking tearless sobs that overtook her entire being. He was alive.
Maggie summoned all her strength and brought herself to sitting by sheer force of will. In spite of a rush of vertigo, she remained upright by John’s side. Still unable to speak fully, she whispered his name urgently.
“John? John! Wake up!” She shook him lightly at first, but then more urgently. After several minutes of furious jostling, it became clear that a new tactic was needed.
Maggie leaned down and spoke into his ear with whatever small voice she could muster. No response. She placed her hands gently on either side of his face. She lifted his head and kissed his lips. When she still received no response, she smacked his cheeks and even slapped him hard, just once. Still nothing happened.
“Wake up! Why won’t you wake up?”
Her pleas went unanswered, at least by John, but she soon became aware of another presence kneeling beside her.
“I’m afraid you can’t wake him, Maggie,” a gentle voice warned. “This is no natural sleep.”
Hesitantly, Maggie pulled her gaze from her slumbering husband and found the kind eyes of their aging healer, Sophie.
“Here, you need to drink. It will help you regain your voice,” Sophie directed, handing Maggie a mug of cool water.
Maggie took the cup but didn’t drink. “What do—”
“Drink first. Then you can ask your questions.”
The healer’s weathered hands guided the cup to Maggie’s lips and gently tipped it from underneath. Sophie watched Maggie drink, continuing to guide the cup until she was satisfied.
“There now. That feels better, doesn’t it?”
Maggie couldn’t deny it. Her raw throat was somewhat soothed, and she felt much more confident in her voice.
“So, what do I mean it’s not a natural sleep?” Sophie began, taking the question from Maggie’s lips before she had a chance to test her vocal cords.
Maggie nodded dumbly, cradling John’s head in her lap. She was accustomed to being the one in charge, but Sophie’s presence, though kind and reassuring, dwarfed her and made her feel like a child again.
“Have you had a look around?” Sophie asked patiently, gesturing broadly.
Maggie had been so focused on John that she had not taken the time to look around her or try to understand what was happening. She simply needed her partner to be alive. Now, she saw the bigger picture—men and women lay in heaps in a neat line across the barren field on either side of her. Back toward the town, more dark masses were spread as far as she could see.
“How many?” Maggie inquired, stifling a gasp.
Sophie sighed deeply. “It looks to be everyone, though I’ve not been awake long myself. I’ve been trying to find the Elders and the other healers to see who’s awake to help.”
“What happened? I can’t remember anything.” Maggie was returning to her businesslike self, preparing to take charge and jump into action.
“It’s all a blur. We must’ve been drugged, though it’s not quite clear how. It doesn’t seem to be the water supply, or I’d have passed back out after my first drink. I’m not entirely sure how else you drug an entire population.”
Maggie put her fingers to her temples, trying to massage away the pain that threatened to crack her skull in two. “I just feel so . . . foggy . . . Nothing makes any sense, and this damned headache makes it impossible to think.”
Sophie nodded. “I feel the same. All these symptoms are why I think it’s some kind of drug. Whatever’s in our systems has some serious side effects. The dehydration doesn’t help much either. Who knows how long we’ve all been unconscious? Are you hurt anywhere?”
Maggie shook her head impatiently. “How do we wake them up?”
“We don’t. If they were drugged, it will have to run its course and make its way out of their systems. Everyone is different, and we may have all gotten different doses. Without knowing what it is or how much was given, it’s impossible to say how long it will take. All we can do is wait.”
“I’m not much for waiting,” Maggie replied sourly.
“Don’t I know it.” Sophie smirked, remembering Maggie’s many past attempts to become pregnant again after the child she and John lost all those years ago. “But we don’t have any other choice.”
She stood then and offered Maggie her hand. “Come on. Let’s get started brewing some peppermint tea for the headache. You can watch for John to wake up from your porch.”
Maggie let Sophie help her stand. Her legs were shaky and her knees wobbled. The pain in her head got worse, so Sophie helped steady her.
“Put your arm around my shoulders. You’ll feel unsteady for a bit. Once we get you in a comfortable chair, I’ll give you some feverfew to help with the pain. There’s not enough in the storehouse for the whole town, but the Elders and the healers will need it to get things sorted. Everyone else will have to make do with the tea.”
“Including John,” she added, side-eyeing Maggie.
“Yes, ma’am,” Maggie replied, leaning into Sophie for support. The pair hobbled along toward John and Maggie’s house, where Maggie swallowed some feverfew extract and recovered on the front porch while keeping a watchful eye on the sleeping settlers nearby.