“Humidity.” Like that explained everything. “I want to go over the main ways of reproducing roses and the results you can expect from them. Growing seasons, when to put fertilizer on them, when to prune. That kind of thing.”
“It sounds like a lot for one afternoon.” Not to mention the symbols I wanted to ask him about, if only I could find an opening.
“We can schedule lessons. Every week or every month.” His gaze flickered toward Sam so, for a moment, I wasn’t sure who the next words were for. “Whatever works for you.”
I answered before Sam had a chance to look around awkwardly. “Every week would be great.”
Cris beamed and drew me toward the workbench, explaining the difference between cuttings and budding.
We spent the next three hours in the greenhouse, me filling up pages of my notebook, before Cris declared that was all for the first lesson. We headed outside. Wind snaked between trees and bushes, stealing perspiration off my forehead and the back of my neck.
“So you’ll call when you figure out a time to come every week?” Cris asked as Sam wandered off to look at something growing in a stone basket held by a stone rabbit.
I nodded. “Before we go, I was curious about something. Sam said you were the best person to ask.”
Cris glanced at Sam, expression blank, and returned his attention to me. “Okay.”
I pulled the folded paper from my pocket. “I caught Sam doodling and asked what they were. He said maybe something he saw a long time ago, but he couldn’t remember exactly.”
Cris raised his eyebrows. “And he thought I might know?”
I gave a one-shouldered shrug. “They look old, and I heard there were remnants of things before everyone came to Heart. And that you discovered most of those things because you put the agricultural quarter together.”
“Hmm.” Cris studied the paper, turning it on its side and upside down. “Some of these look familiar, but even if I’d seen them before, I couldn’t tell you if they meant anything.”
“I was hoping you might remember something like a label.” I shifted my weight to one hip. “I know it’s unlikely.”
“Sorry. It was a long time ago”—he sounded just like Sam when he said that—“and we didn’t keep records like we do now.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t stop the disappointment in my tone as I reached for the page. It wasn’t like I’d thought he’d have all the answers, but even a hint would have been useful.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll hold on to this. Maybe I’ll think of something later and need to double-check.” He glanced again at the paper as I nodded. “If you’re looking for evidence of a civilization here before us, don’t forget there were centaurs and trolls all through Range before we settled. They’re not all bright, but they’re not without their own means of written communication.”
“Like scratchy drawings?”
“Sure. Or any other number of things. But I’m not the one to ask about that. There are books in the library you could start with. If you still have questions, I can give you a few names of people who—”
“Who don’t mind newsouls?” I hazarded.
“Yeah.” He smiled, looking relieved. “It’s awkward to say that without saying that.”
“You’ll have to get used to it. With me, just be blunt. It’s not like I don’t already know what half the people think. The newsouls coming now will learn soon, too.”
“Thank you for the advice.” His gaze slipped to the paper again, and his smile faltered.
“What is it?” It was the same dazed look Sam wore when he suddenly remembered something he shouldn’t.
“Several lifetimes ago I traveled to the jungles along the equator.” His tone drifted, almost singsong. “The air was as thick and hot as a greenhouse, and the plants were incredible. They were immense, and everywhere, taking up every bit of earth. The air buzzed with the noise of bugs and animals calling territory.”
I could feel it. Hear it. What an alien cacophony it must have been.
“You couldn’t even drink the water. It wasn’t safe.” He traced one of the symbols on the page, paper fluttering in the fading autumn breeze. “And then it seemed like out of nowhere I came across these piles of enormous stone, so old and weathered some of them were breaking apart, but I could see where they’d once made a wall.”
“What kind of wall?” I whispered.
The remembrance began to fade. “I’m not sure….”
“Was it white?”
“What?” He blinked, and the memories vanished. “I’m sorry. I must have been thinking about something else.”
“You were telling me about stones you found in the jungle. You said they’d once been a wall. Was it white?”
Cris shook his head. “I…don’t remember that. Sorry.” He slipped the paper into his pocket. “But thank you for coming this afternoon. It was nice seeing you again.”
When we finished polite small talk and farewells, Sam and I headed from the garden maze. His voice came low and soft. “Nothing?”
If Cris couldn’t remember the conversation about the wall in the jungle, neither would Sam if I told him. And the fact that Cris had difficulty remembering it made me think Janan was involved somehow. Ugh. If only he’d said a little more. Described a heartbeat in the stone, maybe. Except the wall had crumbled, which meant what?
Sam had found a wall in the north, in dragon territory. Cris had found one in the jungle. Neither could recall the encounters clearly.
“Ana?” Sam touched my shoulder, looking worried. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, sorry.” I shook away my thoughts of other cities for another time. “Cris said he’ll look at the symbols more.”
“Then he will.” He said it with utter certainty.
It killed me not knowing what had happened between them. They thought so highly of each other, and yet.
“So what now?” he asked.
I pressed my palm over the pocket where the temple key rested. “What I said I was doing before: going into the temple to look for more clues.” I sounded as enthusiastic as I would have at the idea of cutting off my hand with a rusty knife, but I was still glad he’d demanded to go with me.
“Oh, right.” He didn’t sound upset or disappointed. More as though I’d just reminded him of something. “You can get in.”
“Yes. I have a key, remember? It makes doors.”
“I remember. It’s silver.”
I stared at him. He’d never remembered before. Cracks were loosening the magic that kept his memories locked. It had never been challenged, and if everyone had the same selective amnesia, then it didn’t have to be good magic. But he’d spent so much time with me, with my questions—
I shivered with hope. Maybe I could break the magic.
14
CREVICE
THROUGH THE WINDOW glass, the sky turned velvet indigo as the sun hovered below the city wall and horizon.
My backpack grew heavy as I filled it with dried fruits and crackers, bottles of water, and painkillers. When I’d met Meuric in the temple before, and he’d tried to trap me, he said I’d never get hungry or thirsty. Maybe that was true, but I didn’t want to take chances.
“Got enough stuff?” Sam said as he came into my bedroom and watched me shove a small blanket into the bag. “Sure you don’t want to add the piano? I bet you can make it fit.”
I made a show of looking back and forth between him and the bag. “I’m not convinced you can carry all that.”
He pressed his hand over his heart in mock indignation. “I could. And I’d carry all your books. Your flute. Your rose, too.”
“Oh! My rose!” I grabbed it off my desk and threaded the stem through my braid. “Even if I can’t take the piano, I should be able to take something good. Besides you, I mean. I’m glad you’re coming.” The rose was starting to dry, though. Petals rasped under my fingertips. “How’s that?”
“Beautiful.” Sam snapped my backpack closed and pressed his m
outh into a line.
“What? You don’t like my hair like this?” Too bad for him; I did. I’d get a hundred roses and put them in my hair.
“Oh, I do.” He put on his coat, then pulled the backpack on over it. “It just startled me for a moment. Cris used to wear roses in her hair, too.”
Her hair.
Blue Rose Serenade.
“Ah. Clearly it’s the best way to show off flowers.” I tugged my coat sleeves over my arms, then checked my pockets for the important things. SED, knife, water bottle, temple key, and notebook. Not that I would have time to write in my notebook in the temple—or I’d have too much time—but I didn’t like going out without it.
The awkward moment passed, and Sam kissed my cheek before we headed downstairs and out the door.
My SED chirped with a message from Sarit, and I stifled a laugh as we took to the dark streets of Heart. “Sarit just said to have fun and to make sure you massage my shoulders. I wish we really were just sneaking out for a few days of romance. It sounds like a lot more fun.”
“I think so, too.” Sam walked close to me, cutting his steps short so I didn’t have to run to keep up.
With a sigh, I put the SED back in my pocket and took my flashlight out instead. The moon shone brightly, but it wasn’t quite enough for someone who hadn’t been walking around Heart for five thousand years.
As we came to the road, I caught sight of the temple rising above the city, and the white glow of shifting patterns. It was almost hypnotic.
“What’s it like in there?” Sam asked. I’d warned him several times already, about the everywhere-light and the unsound, but that was knowledge he kept losing. The forgetting magic had cracked, not shattered.
I told him again as we walked to the market field, and his face grew pale and drawn, lined with fear. “You don’t have to go.” I spoke gently, and he really didn’t need to go, but I wanted him to. I didn’t want to go by myself. The time I’d been in there had been terrifying. Having Sam with me would make it easier.
“I’m going,” he said, and in the temple light, I caught his determination, and that strength he got from loving me. It made him brave.
Answers beckoned from across the market field. I couldn’t help but imagine everyone all across Range looking up one night to see a strange, beautiful light, five thousand years ago. Of course they’d been drawn to the city. Sam had said they’d lived in tribes for a while, fighting over Heart before they realized it could easily house everyone. Maybe they’d been fighting over the light, too, if it brought them comfort.
My stomach turned. I couldn’t believe I was going in again. Willingly.
For the newsouls, for answers, I would do anything.
I stashed my flashlight away and took a quick drink of water before heading across the market field. There was no one out this late, so the way was clear as we approached.
There was a crevicelike place where the Councilhouse and temple huddled together; Sam had told me earlier that in a few of the back rooms, there were spots on the walls that glowed at night, though none of them were big enough to use the key to create a door. It would have to be done outside.
“Ready?” I pulled out the key and squeezed into the hidden place. It was just big enough for elbow room—for me. Sam stood a little outside.
“Yeah.” He took a deep breath, as though preparing himself, but tensed instead and looked over his shoulder. He swore quietly. “It’s Stef.”
“Sam!” Stef’s voice carried across the market field. “What are you doing?”
Sam swore again. “What will happen if we just go in with her looking? Will she forget?”
“I don’t know.” I really didn’t, but being pinned between these two buildings made me itch. “Go see what she wants.”
He nodded. “I’ll hurry.” Then he trotted toward Stef, who was halfway to the temple, and halfway to spotting me clutching the key and ready to make a door.
I held still while they greeted each other.
“Going somewhere?” Stef motioned to the backpack.
“Ana and I are taking a short trip out of Heart. Didn’t you get my message?”
“Yes, but you’re here in the middle of Heart. In the middle of the night.” She put her hands on her hips.
“So are you.”
I swallowed a groan. This wasn’t going to end well.
“I,” Stef said, “am going home after working on Orrin’s data console, since he insists he needs one at his house, too. I have been working on it for the last seven hours, because he decided he wants to track seismic activity in Range.” Her pause was sharp, daring. “Where’s Ana?”
“She’s waiting on me. So we can go.” Sam shifted his weight and didn’t glance back at me, but his shoulders twisted like he wanted to.
“At your house? At a guard station? We can walk together.” She hooked her arm with his. “Come on.”
“No, it’s fine.” Sam pulled away, and it seemed unlikely anyone had ever looked more suspicious.
The buildings pulsed around me, making my skin prickle. Being this close to the temple made the faint taste of acid crawl up the back of my throat.
Stef’s false cheer faded. Her posture straightened and her voice deepened, showing real hurt. “What’s going on, Dossam? You’re always off with Ana, caught up in your own private quests no one understands. You left Heart because you said Ana wanted time away, and that’s great, Sam. She’s cute, and I’m glad you’re having a nice time with her. You both deserve happiness.
“But ever since you came back to Heart, you just look more and more stressed. Whatever you did in Purple Rose must not have been very relaxing or fun. We’ve been friends for thousands of years. You don’t have to tell me everything that happened, but don’t pretend I don’t know you’ve been hiding something.”
I wanted to shrink until I vanished between the cobblestones. She meant Menehem’s lab. It weighed on him, what we’d learned, but it seemed like there was something more. Something he hadn’t told me, either.
“Stef—”
She cut him off. “Your friends are worried. The Council—well, you know the Council. They’re looking for a reason to toss Ana—and the other newsoul—out of Heart.”
“They wouldn’t.” Sam shook his head. “They wouldn’t, because we’ve done everything they’ve demanded.”
“They’re waiting for you to make a mistake.” Her voice lost some of its bite. “I just wish you’d let me help. How can we be best friends when you don’t let me into your life?”
Sam bowed his head. “We are best friends. But we’ve had five thousand years.”
“And she’s still working on her nineteenth. I know. So you’ll spend the next seventy years shutting me out. And if she’s reborn, what then? Do I cease to matter?”
“You know that isn’t true—”
“What about the rest of your friends? You hardly visit like you used to.”
“What are you talking about?” Sam raised his voice. “I see people as often as I always have. More, perhaps. But I’ve always needed time alone. You know that.”
“You’re never alone anymore. She’s always with you. And when you go out to see people, it’s for her. Introductions, lessons. Everything you do is about her.” Her anger made the last words fall like punches.
There wasn’t much Sam could say to that, and he seemed to know it. He had devoted a lot of his time to me. The moments he took to think about his response gave Stef another opening.
“You know what they’re saying,” she said, “about Ana and the sylph. About newsouls and the sylph.”
“It’s not true.” He didn’t sound even slightly convincing.
“I was there, Sam. I saw Ana go right for her SED. I saw her when she immediately knew how to distract the sylph long enough for the others to get away. And I saw what happened with the sylph when Deborl and everyone came with the eggs.”
“Surely you don’t believe—”
“What am I supposed to be
lieve? You don’t talk to me about things anymore. People keep asking me questions, because they think I must know what’s going on, but the only things I ever hear are rumors.” Her voice cracked. “I miss you. I miss how things used to be.”
Sam’s shoulders slumped.
This fight would last forever, and I couldn’t stay hidden in the crevice any longer. Every moment made me feel worse, and listening to them…
I couldn’t go out there. Stef had shown all her anguish, and she would be furious if she knew I’d overheard. She’d never hurt me, not like Li would have if I’d witnessed that kind of vulnerability, but I didn’t want her to be angry with me, nonetheless.
Sam couldn’t end this—Stef wouldn’t let him—and I couldn’t stay trapped here between walls that made me itch. Sam would know where I went.
Silver shone in temple light as I lifted the key and pressed the shapes engraved into the metal and squeezed. A gray door swirled into existence.
With one last look at Sam and Stef arguing in the market field, I stepped into the temple.
15
WEEPER
NO SOUND EXISTED inside the temple, not even ringing in my ears, like silence after a loud noise. Temple silence was thicker than regular silence, like stone was thicker than air.
I clutched the door device to my chest, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the everywhere-light that left no shadows. The glow that emanated from the white walls wasn’t actually bright, but the reflections and lack of darkness made my eyes water.
Mysteries surrounded the temple like a cocoon. Everyone knew it was empty, and yet no door existed—not without the key I held. As far as I knew, the only other person who’d been inside the temple was Meuric.
The air pulsed with the temple’s heartbeat, making my skin prickle. Janan was here. “Hello?”
No answer. Just the flattening of my voice in dead air.
Wishing I had the backpack, I tucked the door device into my pocket and tried to decide which way to go. The room was immense, though I didn’t think it was the chamber from the last time I’d found myself in the temple. Neither was it the hall with books, or the room with an upside-down pit where I’d killed Meuric.