Caste

By RaeLynn Fry

Sometimes you sacrifice yourself for someone you love...

Seventeen-year-old Karis Singh’s little brother is dying, and the Corporation has concluded he’s not worth saving. One thing prevents her from going into the Inner City and stealing the medicine Herself—the tattooed Mark that physically bars her from entering. The only way around that is to get it altered in the Black Market— an act that carries the possibility of a horrific and slow death— but will guarantee her the access she needs.

Willing to do whatever it takes, she accepts the help of Ethan, a boy with an agenda of his own. As her time in the city passes, dark secrets are uncovered about what the Corporation is really doing to
the citizens of her city. Now, the most treacherous part of Karis’ plan is staying alive long enough to make it home. When the stakes get higher, will Karis still be able to do whatever it takes to save those she loves?

CASTE is the first book in the young adult dystopian series, The Corporation. Set in a world where the strongest corporation has all the power and control, Karis navigates secret agendas, betrayal, found family, and promises to take down anyone that gets in her way–no matter who it is.

Fans of The Giver, Blood Red Road, Want, Divergent & The Hunger Games will love adding The Corporation series to their favorites list!
Praise for The Corporation series:

* * * * * “I wish I could read faster so I could finished the book...The end of CASTE had me rushing to get to the next page” - Reader Review

* * * * * “I truly enjoyed this story and was surprised at the ending, but there is more to come.” –Goodreads Review

* * * * * “I loved the story and the fact that RaeLynn managed to build such a story, avoiding the standards the present society puts, such as the excess toxicity and abusive behaviour.

Waiting for more and becoming one of your biggest fans.” –Goodreads Review

The Corporation Series:

Book 1, Caste
Novella, Heir
Book 2, Outcast
Book 3, Untouchable

• Language: English
• Publisher: RaeLynn Fry
• Release date: Feb 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9780989213400

RaeLynn Fry

The first thing you need to know about RaeLynn Fry is that she hates writing about herself in the third person, but she has been told it is more "professional", so this is her attempt at being a grown up.​RaeLynn loves all things Young Adult: books, tv shows, movies, discussions. She loves the newness that YA brings and the experiences that come with growing up. She reads and writes voraciously; sometimes it just takes her a little longer than others to finish.She has been married for a LONG time and has two beautiful girls. She lives in the amazing state of Idaho and loves doing anything outdoors. She used to be a competitive Irish dancer and if you ask nicely, she may just dance you a genuine jig. She has an unhealthy obsession with expensive handbags and too-tall high heels. And office supplies. And books. And fine point pens (because those are, honestly, the only kind any of you lot should be using). She loves the X-Files and Jesus, but not in that order.Overall, she's pretty laid back, disorganized, and pretends to have an astute attention to detail. But that is a lie she will readily admit. She also has a killer personality and great sense of humor.She has a passion for writing and supporting the writing community and young authors. She is one of the founding members of #TheWriterCommunity.She authors the YA Dystopian series: Caste, Heir, Outcast, and Untouchable (coming 2022); all books in The Corporation Series. There are many more amazing books on the horizon, so you'll always be entertained. ;)​There, she did it. How'd she do?

Book preview

Caste

A Corporation Novel

RaeLynn Fry

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Terebinth Tree Publishing, LLC

Sale of this book without a front cover may be unauthorized. If this book is coverless, it may have been reported to the publisher as unsold or destroyed and neither the author nor the publisher may have received payment for it

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, business establishments, or events is entirely coincidental

Caste

All rights reserved

Published by Terebinth Tree Publishing, LLC

Copyright © 2023 by RaeLynn Fry

Cover art by Stone Ridge Books

This book is protected under the copyright law of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork here in is prohibited without the express written permission of the author

First Printing: May 2013

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition: May 2013

Second Edition: September 2023

ISBN-13: 978-0-9892134-1-7

www.RaeLynnFry.com

To everyone who loves Karis, Ethan, and Journey as much as I do. To my hubby and kiddos, I love you guys more than I can put into words.

Contents

1.DAY ONE

2.One

3.Two

4.Three

5.Four

6.Five

7.DAY TWO

8.Six

9.Seven

10.Eight

11.DAY THREE

12.Nine

13.Ten

14.Eleven

15.Twelve

16.DAY FOUR

17.Thirteen

18.Fourteen

19.DAY FIVE

20.Fifteen

21.Sixteen

22.DAY SIX

23.Seventeen

24.Eighteen

25.Nineteen

26.Twenty

27.DAY SEVEN

28.Twenty-one

29.Twenty-two

30.Twenty-three

31.Twenty-four

32.DAY EIGHT

33.Twenty-five

34.Twenty-six

35.Twenty-Seven

36.DAY FIFTEEN

37.Twenty-eight

38.DAY TWENTY-NINE

39.Twenty-nine

40.Sneak peek for Outcast, Book 2 in The Corporation Series!

PROLOGUE

41.Karis

42.Ethan

About RaeLynn

Also By RaeLynn Fry

Thank You

DAY ONE

One

Anyone from Neech knows there’s no such thing as sleeping later than the sun. Only citizens of the Inner City, Dahn, are allowed that luxury. I have yet to miss a sunrise.

My calloused fingers act as a barrier against the rough bark as I toss another log onto the hungry flames. It feels like November inside, even though it’s only September. I need the water in the kettle to boil faster so I can make breakfast and tea. It’s going to be a busy day at the factory and I’m already running behind.

I focus on the soft hum of the air filter, a familiar constant in our home. As a result, our small house is never completely silent—but at least we can breathe. Despite the sparse coughs it gives, it’s dependable in filtering our city’s air into something that’s not poisonous. Which is more than most people in Neech have. It’s not like the Corporation actually provides filters for everyone. 

There’s no privacy down on the main level of our apartment, unless you’re alone—which is hardly ever in this house. Every room spills into the other. The cramped living space opens into an even more cramped kitchen with the fireplace on the wall that separates them. 

A small closet sits off of the kitchen with a heavy, ragged drape in place of a door. It’s a pantry. Of sorts. It’s also the guest room when we have guests. Which is never. But Mamma thought it’d be a good idea to have, just in case. 

I aggravate the flames with an iron poker and watch the glowing embers jump off the logs, only to nestle in with the heaps of grey ash.

My nine-year-old brother Ajna sits at the worn table Papa made for Mamma as a wedding gift nineteen years ago. It’s the only thing left in the house that’s hers. Everything else I helped put away eight years ago. 

Ajna is slumped over his bowl of porridge—or gruel, as he calls it. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as he trolls his spoon along the bowl’s bottom, his head slipping lower on the heel of his hand. A couple of more seconds and his face will plant squarely into his breakfast. 

I look around the room, searching for another log. I find it buried in a corner. The last one. A cruel reality of life in the Outer City. Never enough of the things we need. We’ve already used up all of our ration stamps and won’t get any more until the Corporation reissues them next month.

I drag the wood over to the fire with a sigh, feeding it to the flames and making the embers and sparks dance up into the chimney just as two sharp raps sound at the door. Right on schedule. 

I groan. 

Ajna’s head snaps up. It’s here! He scrambles out of his chair, moving so suddenly it clatters to the floor behind him, his breakfast sloshing dangerously close to the lip of the bowl.

My brother’s hand is almost on the knob before I can say, Sit down. He stops but keeps his body facing the door. I stand, dusting bits of bark from my palms. I said, sit down.

With a scowl, he swivels his head and shifts brown eyes, identical to Papa’s, in my direction. Why? You’re not my mamma; you’re just my sister.

I’m the closest thing you’ve got to a mamma. 

Sometimes it feels like a war is just looking for an excuse to break out, having three hot-headed and opinionated people in the same tight space. Tempers flare from time to time, and arguments can get real interesting real fast. 

Ajna crosses his spindly arms over his narrow chest, wrinkling the shirt I got up extra early this morning to iron. I frown. His soft face is defiant, giving away how stubborn he can be—exactly like his sister. And with his jaw set like that and his brows furrowed, for a flash he looks too much like Mamma.

Little early to be startin’ at each other’s throats, don’t you think? Papa walks down the stairs, letting his weight drop into each step, scratching at his back. His dark tousled hair makes it look as if he’s just rolled out of bed, even though I know he’s fully dressed and ready for the mill. 

I’m the image of Mamma—or so Papa says, I don’t see it—and Ajna is an exact replica of Papa, as if the Corporation cloned him. 

Morning, Papa, I say.

Mornin’, Karis. He comes over and kisses me lightly on the forehead. Son, finish your breakfast. Papa rubs at his scruffy face. He’s been talking of growing a beard for fall and I can already see my breath in the early morning air. My eyes drift back to the empty corner with only chips in the way of wood. 

But Papa, Ajna says with a stamp of his foot.

No buts. Your food’s gettin’ cold, and if we’re wastin’ our rations, the Corp will have no problem cuttin’ ’em back. He bends down and rights the fallen chair. Now, apologize to your sister. 

Ajna hangs his head and turns around, sulking back to his seat, where he plops down and stares at his bowl of breakfast. He mumbles something that sounds like, Sorry Karis, but I can’t be sure.

I brush my hands against my pants again and walk over to the front door, snatching up the folded piece of paper that’s been slipped underneath. 

Two knocks mean another delivery’s been made. They started around the time the sickness did. The same time as the increased Guard patrols and strange deaths. I still think there’s a connection, even though Papa and my best friend Journey say I’m putting too much stock into it. I thought the deliveries would stop after a few days. Two months later and they show no sign of letting up.

Another newsletter? Papa asks, taking his seat. 

Ajna squirms in his chair, excited for the answer.

These things are poison, I say. More than the Corporation is. Already I’m in a sour mood, and the day hasn’t even started. 

It’s a fine balancing act, living under the Corp’s rule—even finer if you’re in the Outer City. It’s best to keep your head down and do your part. Don’t make waves, as the old saying goes. Though, I don’t know where it came from. 

If a Neech citizen was caught with one of these newsletters in one of the Corp’s random searches, they’d be Released, no questions asked. Wouldn’t matter that none of us asked for it, it’d be considered treason. 

I crumple the paper with extra vigor.

Don’t do that! my brother shrieks. His spoon clatters to the floor.

It’s trash, Ajna; it belongs in the fire, I say. At least then we’d get a little use out of it.

No! I wanna read it. He reaches out, pleading with his eyes.

It’s filled with nothing but lies—and poor ones at that. Half the stuff is completely impossible. I hold my fist toward the flames. My fingers itch from the warmth. Experimentation on citizens by the Corporation? Selective Genocide? Functioning cities out in the Further?

Pleasepleaseplease! Ajna’s opening and closing his fists, stretching his arms as far as they’ll go, scooting to the very edge of his seat.

Karis, Papa says. Give your brother the newsletter. It doesn’t do any harm if he reads it.

Only fills his head with nonsense, I say, pulling my fist back from the heat.

Karis. Papa tilts his head and looks down his nose at me.

I hate Papa’s warning voice. But only a stitch less than I hate his warning look. I toss the crumpled paper at my brother, watching it land in his breakfast with a light plop. Completely unintentional.

Hey! Ajna complains, but his smile tells me he doesn’t care. He fishes the paper ball out with nimble fingers and smoothes it against the table’s surface. 

I finished patching your duster, but you’re going to need a new one soon. I take Papa’s overcoat from a pile by the fire and hand it to him, inspecting it one last time. It looks like a molting dog.

Papa chuckles and takes the garment, fingering the patched elbows where holes had been the night before. Looks good, Karis. I can probably get a few more years out of this.

Not if you want to keep your skin from burning up and falling off when you go outside.

Papa gives me a loud sigh.

Okay, so maybe that’s a slight exaggeration, but the less exposed to the air, the better. 

The Corporation’s installed air filters throughout Neech, but they’re subpar, and there aren’t nearly enough of them to make any real difference to the air that slips through the tears in the Corp’s Biozone. Some citizens wear masks outside for extra protection. Others claim the air’s not that bad. Those are the ones who usually end up coughing their lungs up and then dying.

If we sell off some rations we don’t need, with the credits we have, maybe we could trade for the rest, I say.

Papa’s eyes go soft. Trade with what, Karis? We’ve already used all our wood, and the month isn’t half over.

I was hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Besides, he goes on, this jacket’s fine. He drapes it behind a chair. Busy day at the factory?

I nod. We’re backed up. A lot of people are too sick to come in. I dish up some breakfast. The porridge slops into the bowl with a sucking splat.

Eta said this sickness has been keepin’ her busy day and night. Papa turns toward the table.

Eta’s been a friend of the family since Mamma and Papa were first married. She’s one of the oldest citizens and the best Medic in Neech.

"I heard the last time it was this bad was back Before," I say.

Papa nods his head slowly. She’s had to take on a few more apprentices.

Trial by fire for them, I guess, I say. She know what it is yet?

He shakes his head. By the time she’s called in, they’re too sick for somethin’ to be done, even if she knew what it was. Whatever it is, it’s killin’ fast. We’ve already lost three men at the lumberyard.

I nod. We’re short by about a dozen at the factory. I’ll probably have to pick up a few extra assignments tonight.

They payin’ you extra for that?

I hope that’s not a serious question, I say, setting a bowl on the table in front of him. 

He smiles. Don’t push yourself too much. He takes the porridge from me. It’s not worth it.

Of course it’s not worth it, but that doesn’t mean a choice exists. Journey’s unit is shorthanded too, so she’ll be there. It won’t be too bad.

Dhevan’s okay with that?

She has a Pairing to pay for and a dowry to give. Dhevan can’t complain. Plus, he’s pulling extra hours in the fields with the increased tithes. I sit across from Papa and look at Ajna. His nose is buried in the newsletter, finger racing across the page, unaware of our conversation. I’m gonna have a dowry to give soon, too, you know. I stir my porridge, not that hungry.

You’re too young to be Paired. I plan on keepin’ you in the house as long as possible.

I’m seventeen, the same age as everyone else who’s Paired. Besides, Kavin will have something to say about your selfishness. But Papa’s comment makes me smile. I’m not ready to leave home either. But when I’m Paired, I won’t have a choice.

Back Before, when everything got really bad, people went sort of crazy. There was a long period without any recognized authority. There was no easy access to clean water, food, power, medicine. People were killing and stealing; sickness swept through and took even more lives. No one stepped in with a solution until the world’s population was decimated by two-thirds. 

By then, people were beaten down enough to accept being ruled over again—if it meant survival. In the end, it was the group with the money who grabbed the power—corporations. And among the dozen or so that reared their ugly heads, it was the beast with the most horns that won. The Corporation.

With the population so low, unions had to be mandated and genetically optimized. Voila: the Corporation’s breeding program—Pairings. 

Listen to this! Ajna belts out. The chair lets out a string of creaking protests as his body wiggles in excitement. This guy says half the cameras around the Outer City don’t even work! He says they’re only there to scare us and keep us in line.

Yeah, but which half? If that’s even true. I roll my eyes. Papa, you’re really going to let him read that trash?

If it makes him happy—

—It does, Ajna says.

—then I’m fine with it.

Despite my irritation, the scene makes me smile. You get to deal with all his crazy talk from now on. Have fun explaining to the neighbors why your son’s going on about Corporation conspiracies.

Papa laughs at me. You’re so much like your mamma. Sometimes it’s like she never left. 

My smile stiffens. I don’t like the pain that slashes across Papa’s face every time he mentions Mamma. Or being compared to the woman who left her family without so much as a glance back. 

Time for the bulletin. Papa reaches over to our small television set and flips it on. 

Every citizen receives one channel, the Corporation’s Announcement Station, or CAS. We get updates through that every morning and evening. At lunch, it’s through the loudspeakers planted throughout Neech. 

The box struggles to generate the black and white static that dances to a soft hum. Papa pounds once on the top of the box, jarring the picture, but it doesn’t fix anything. A fuzzy voice comes through the left speaker; the right one’s broken. 

Stupid thing, he mutters. Never works. Papa drops his fist down again.

Maybe if you wouldn’t abuse it, I scold and reach over to adjust the aluminum antenna. Eventually, the picture improves to the misshapen symbol of the Corporation: three interlocked rings, two on top and one at the bottom. It’s supposed to symbolize the Corporation supporting our two cities, Neech and Dahn. The static-filled voice pipes through a little clearer. 

There, I say. All it needed was a little kindness. 

Good morning, citizens. A brief reminder from last week: it’s important to be extra vigilant in keeping an eye out for Untouchables. Military Guards have encountered an influx of activity in the Further, and if you aren’t careful, the Corporation won’t be able to protect you. Should you see an Untouchable, notify the Military Guard via Comm at once. Do not engage, no matter how harmless they may seem. After all, they are Untouchables, the furthest a human being can be from harmless. They will kill you—or worse—at the first opportunity. They may look normal and safe, but that is only a tool in their arsenal of weapons. Do not trust anyone you do not recognize. 

Untouchables? I’ve always thought they were more of an exaggeration from Ami’s stories—citizens who’ve somehow survived the Further and have changed into something else. They kill, eat their own. No thoughts except those of a primal mind. They’re dangerous.

The only citizens allowed to venture beyond the Outer City and into the Further are Military Guards, and only if they’re covered head to toe in thick outer clothing, with air canisters, weapons, and rations. Everything outside the shelter of the cities is toxic. The air. The water. Everything. The Corp’s Biozone only covers the two cities; out there it’s scorching sun and acid rain. Dust storms so harsh they’ll scrub the flesh off of any man. Not to mention the absence of food and water. I don’t know why anyone would want to go out there anyway. It’s barren, deformed, and deadly, filled with things that’ll kill a person in half a heartbeat. Venturing out into the Further is a death sentence. And the Corporation reminds us of that as often as they can.

"Demand is up in all areas of manufacturing and production is down. Since there seems to be a lack of motivation to ensure the cities have the supplies needed in order for all citizens to survive and prosper, the Corporation has lengthened work shifts beginning tomorrow—an hour before dawn and an hour after sunset. 

"In order for the good of the city to survive, everyone needs to sacrifice. Any citizen found cheating or stealing from the Corporation—and your fellow citizens—by not taking part will pay a heavy penalty. In addition, the Corporation will increase its tithe from 70 to 80 percent. 

Remember, everything you do is for the betterment of the cities. Cheating the Corporation is only cheating yourself.

The screen fades back to static, and an annoying buzz seeps from of the left speaker. 

That’s ridiculous! Papa shouts. He smacks at the television off switch, turning the screen black. They’ve already reduced our water rations three times this year. The harvests aren’t bringin’ in as much as previous years. The land is dyin’. We can’t help that! When’s the Corporation gonna care they’re killin’ us? He runs his hands through his hair, resting them on the back of his neck. 

Remember the breathing exercises Eta gave you. My voice turns soothing. 

He hates those exercises, but Eta says if he doesn’t control his stress and temper, someday he’ll pay the price. So, he breathes in, holds it five counts, and slowly exhales. He repeats the pattern until his face returns to its normal shade. His feelings, though, are becoming more and more common in Neech. Even if nobody’s talking openly about it.

The teakettle’s sharp whistle stings the air. I get up and grab a thick towel from the sink, carefully lifting it from its hook above the fire. Steam rises from my thermos as I pour hot water into my loose tea. 

Want some? I ask, not turning around.

No, Papa growls, still trying to calm his temper. Get on to work, but don’t stay too late; the Jatis is tonight. The air whistles as he sucks his breaths through gritted teeth in five-second intervals.

That’s tonight? I groan. The days have been melting into one another lately. I could have sworn I had another day before the festival.

Kerick’s getting his Mark tonight! Ajna says—something important enough to rip his attention from the newsletter. He’s already flipped it over, having devoured the entire front page. And I get mine next month. Then there’s no more secondary classes cuz I’ll be a man. He smiles, two teeth missing front and center, and paws his bangs out of his eyes. 

Papa wanted me to cut Ajna’s hair before tonight. I estimate the energy required in getting him to sit still, figure in the time I’ll spend fighting him off while I’m cutting—trying not to stab him—and decide that the length of his hair is just fine.

You have to be there, Karis, Papa says. Only he would know I’d consider skipping a Jatis for work. You know the Corporation’s rules.

Yeah, well, it’s a stupid rule. I screw the lid of my thermos on tight.

This guy thinks so, too. Ajna waves the newsletter in the air.

I tuck my thermos into my bag, along with a meager lunch of a stale sandwich and overripe fruit, and kiss Papa and Ajna on the tops of their heads. See you tonight. I grab a facemask from the hook by the front door and slip it on.

We’re meetin’ the Cambrais and Maliks in the square a half hour before the festival. Make sure you’re home in enough time to get ready. Papa comes up and puts my knit cap over my head, pulling it down over my eyes and ears.

Alright, alright. I readjust the hat and pull my duster over my sweater, buttoning it all the way to my neck. I put my gloves on last and step out into the early morning air, the chill creeping through my layers. Fall’s coming fast this year. The Biozone tries to regulate the seasonal changes and temperature, but the weather outside of the cities is getting worse and the dome is getting so many holes that it doesn’t work how it’s supposed to anymore.

The streets of our neighborhood are still empty this early. My best friend, Journey, and her Pair, Dhevan, live in the apartments a few sections over. It’s a nicer area than ours—meaning that all four of their walls are original and intact. 

I follow my usual route to our meeting spot, hearing faint beeps and feeling a slight tug at my wrist as my Mark passes checkpoints. I try to steer clear of the more dilapidated parts of Neech. All parts are rundown and broken, but the dark parts are more so. It’s where the Black Market is. Or so I’ve heard. 

I cast an uneasy glance at the half-broken, leaning buildings. The once pristine interiors are turned inside out, belching down brick and steel. The ground glints and sparkles with broken glass and sharp shards of metal. The Corporation has plastered larger than life posters of Akin Hughes on the sides of buildings. Most are faded and ripped, hanging limply to the exterior of the walls. The ones intact are defiled in some other way—usually a crude drawing over the President’s face. The Corporation has promised to make these sections more habitable, but I don’t know of anyone who’s holding their breath. 

I pick up my pace when I notice a shadow darker than the rest, moving along in rhythm with me. 

The livable parts of Neech aren’t much better than the uninhabitable ones. No building stands the way it did when it was first built. We’ve had to make our own walls with whatever we could find—rotting wood, sheets of plastic, rocks. Anything and everything. But it’s the only home we’ll ever know, so we make it work. 

Air filters are posted around the city, working overtime with threatening sputters and coughs, trying to clean the air enough so we can breathe. Even with my mask, I feel the acidic, thick air burning my lungs. 

Cameras are posted on every building—sometimes in groups of two or three to cover multiple angles—their red eyes blinking at steady intervals. Wires hang like cobwebs from the tops of roofs and out windows, carrying both legal and illegal electricity into homes and businesses. 

The sun’s peeking up over the horizon, and the line separating the earth from the sky is a thin strip of hazy yellow-brown. 

I’m going to be late, I realize. I clutch my bag to my chest and run through the streets. 

Two

Y ou’re late, Journey says as soon as I show up. She drags a finger down part of my exposed cheek and examines it with a frown. And you’re sweaty. What’d you do, run? My best friend curls her lip.

What’d you do, get up extra early to spend hours in front of the mirror? And yes, as a matter of fact, I did run here. I keep moving and my best friend picks up her pace to match mine, wiping her soiled glove on the side of her pants. I know how much you hate being kept waiting, I say.

Well, it didn’t help, she says with a smile. You were still late.

I crease my brow and eye her perfect blond curls spilling out from beneath her cap and the hint of blush on her cheeks. She always looks pretty—it’s somewhat annoying. You should be wearing a mask.

She smiles at me and snaps the elastic bands of her mask behind her ears. It was only off for a minute.

I lift the edge of my cap and wipe my sleeved arm across my forehead, catching the sweat beading at my hairline. I’m glad I don’t care about appearances the way she does, if I did, I’d be perpetually late for everything. It’s why most of the time I wear my dark hair back in a ponytail and don’t bother with makeup. It feels funny on my face, anyhow, not to mention I can’t afford it.

I don’t know how Dhevan’s gonna survive being your Pair.

You hush. Journey blushes even more under her artificial coloring. Can you believe I’m actually getting Paired? And in a month! She does a spin in the middle of the street.

Muffled light is filtering into the Outer City and with it more citizens. Some are heading in the market’s direction, but most are on their way—like us—to the Industrial Section. No one gives Journey’s slightly crazy dance a second look. I roll my eyes. She’s always been over the top. About everything.

I’d better not lose my best friend in this deal. Otherwise Dhevan’ll have a lot more to worry about than the fact that you’re high maintenance.

Journey pushes me in the shoulder playfully. In two months you’re going to be in my shoes, and you’re gonna be acting the same way.

Kavin already knows to shoot me if that happens. I smile at her and bat my lashes.

Oh, I almost forgot! she says, changing the subject. I have to make a quick stop on our way to the factory.

I see a pair of Military Guards and duck my head, instinctively pushing Journey and I closer to the buildings. There have been more and more of them around the city. They look for any reason to harass a Neech citizen, so it’s best not to be noticed at all. We’re lucky. These two are too involved in whatever it is they’re talking about and pass us by, leaving laughter and a conversation in their wake.

You were just whining about running late. I follow her as we turn left down another street.

I know, she says, but there’s something I need to get for Kerick’s Jatis tonight.

Is he feeling any better?

She gives a strained smile. I think so. I mean, he looks better than yesterday.

Neither of us wants to talk about it for long. It’s never a good sign when someone gets sick, especially with this illness that’s been swelling up and claiming so many.

Have you talked to Eta? I say. If she doesn’t have the herbs to heal you, then you’d better believe in God or miracles, but it was best to have faith in both. Journey doesn’t believe in either.

Her curls bounce across her shoulders as she shakes her head. We haven’t said anything to anyone.

Why haven’t you told Eta? I think of what would happen if Ajna were to get sick. I’d move mountains and redirect rivers to make him better.

Journey bites at her bottom lip and twists her fingers. It’s only been a couple of days. Besides, it’s not that bad. She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.

Journey, this is important!

I know it’s important, she snaps.

If Eta doesn’t know what’s going on, how can she treat Kerick? What if it’s the sickness? I throw my hands in the air, beyond frustrated. Journey always does this sort of thing. I can’t believe you’re keeping this to yourself. I

Reviews for Caste

[anissaannalise-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

More like a 3.5. I liked this one but I must admit that some things were predictable & it could use a good editing polish (hopefully the author will be able to do an update that at least changes the many instances of "gate" where she really means "gait" & "Hughes's" instead of "Hughe's" & "conscious" was used when "conscience" was meant once or twice as well). The word usage gaffes were the most deterrent to story flow & each time they took me out of the moment. The story itself is, overall, a good one & I enjoyed reading about Karis & her quest to save Ajna. There were some things that happened far too easily for her & one glaring one was the pretty much insta-love with Ethan. I'd already bought into her feelings for Kavin being real because that's how it was laid out in the beginning, so I couldn't really invest in Karis/Ethan when the main of the story between them takes place over the span of about a week. Having Mr. Singh throw in his support behind the couple at the end, didn't sell me either. Karis got over Kavin, her Pair, whom she'd known all her life & says that she truly loved even before they'd been paired, in a blink. He was cast out into the Further, not dead & was part of her reason to want to strike back at The Corporation but she didn't think about him much. Ethan's declaration of eternal love... m'kay. I'm still pulling for Kavin to be saved. Karis/Ethan can be together but I just don't care.

Still, at least there was more to this story than the "love" & that's where it shined mostly. The reveal of Ethan's identity was the most predictable element & seemed almost interminable as the story progressed & Karis remained clueless. I quite enjoyed the bits of Neech shown, from the factory where Karis & Journey work to the Black Market. The Masquerade in Dahn was well done & where one of the most compelling interactions in the entire story takes place, between Akin & Karis. The action picked up a bit somewhere after 70% & the momentum was good until the end, even if some things happened too easily for the characters or others were simply not even explained. The final play was good & I look forward to the next book, but I was disappointed that none of the characters even considered that would happen (I don't even know why any of them were keen to participate in the Jatis after everything that they now knew).

Overall, a good story that I'm interested enough in to continue with the series. I'm glad this was in my via Amazon Recommendations.