3.
I find Jude exactly where I would expect to on any normal day.
Except, this is far from an ordinary day.
"What in the name of the gods are you doing here?" I elbow him, talking under my breath, muttering curses.
"Getting my morning coffee, what else?" he replies, as if the answer should have been obvious. He grins at me stupidly, lifting his head up so I can examine it more thoroughly, then leans down for a kiss. Aghast, I pull away from him, my eyes fixed firmly to his left cheek. I almost laugh at what I see. He's gotten into his Mother's face paint kit, using a shade far too pale for his darkly tanned skin. Everyone has darkish skin in Eversummer, but this leaves a blotchy mess that, despite the color difference, covers the blemishes on his face quite well.
There is that at least.
"You look like a godsforsaken jongler!" I elbow him harder. People in the coffee line at the Bridge Market, in front of us and behind, stop their conversations to eyeball us. I'd cut the line to join Jude, but these people aren't grumbling about that. We cut the lines all the time. Instead, they’re pointing to their own faces, giggling.
"Hey, I thought I did a pretty decent job!" Jude says indignantly, now angling his cheek away so I can't see it.
"You're insane!" I chastise. "If my Father's men see–"
"They won't," Jude cuts me off with a rude wave. "I can't afford to take the day off work, Juno. And who knows how long this rash will last?" He winces painfully.
"Rash? Ha!" I bark at him. Calling what Jude has on his cheek a rash is like calling a third degree sunburn a case of dry skin. I move around him to get a closer look at the ‘rash’ and see that it is indeed better than it was yesterday. But if a Deacon were to take a second glance, they would undoubtedly notice his skin pockmarked with bumps and holes. Sure, Jude could try and pass it off as an injury–call it roadrash–but with that rumor going around town now...
I pull him in close. "Who did you tell?" I ask, thinking someone must have seen him sneaking home last night with those huge blisters on his face. I'd given him my hooded cloak to cover it once we’d got back to town, but it was too small and hadn't hidden his deformity completely.
But is it a deformity or a mutation?
"No one!" Jude bites back indignantly. "Why? Does somebody know?"
I roll my eyes. "Yeah," I say. "Most of Krakelyn."
Jude stares at me. "Tell me you're joking."
I pull him even closer, feeling as if every eye in the city is upon me. I look around and a few actually are. Gods, I'm getting paranoid. "Traylor told me," I say. "He heard it at the docks. Somebody knows we found something. The Deacons must have been watching us."
Jude looks like he wants to cry. "I avoided talking to anyone this morning," he says. "I haven't heard any news. I just wanted to grab a coffee and get to the pit for my shift." He pauses briefly to collect himself.
"I don't suppose you heard about Thomas Whiskeyjack then?" I say, a little too loudly. Behind me, someone gasps at my mentioning the name. In Krakelyn, it's somewhat of a taboo to speak someone's name aloud after they've been Judged.
Jude shakes his head. "No. What happened?"
"He was Judged," I mutter, barely a whisper.
Jude's eyes go wide. "You don't think it has something to do with us?"
"I don't know. But if Thomas was the Deacon that was spying on us and saw what happened at the beach, my Father is the only person he would tell about it."
Jude seems to collapse at my inference that my Father had Thomas Judged in order to cover up our wrongdoing. "You hid it in the usual spot, right?" he asks.
I nod. "There's no way anyone knows where it is, but someone knows we have it. You need to hide, Jude. I can sweet talk my Father if he confronts me about it, but if the Deacons see your face..."
He nods back. "You're right." He looks around quickly, the paranoia visible in his eyes.
"Lay low until I sort this out with my Father," I say. "He never came home last sleep cycle. He's probably investigating this mutant that tried to break into the city and–" I cut myself off, seeing Jude's face go from shocked to horrified. "Oh, uh, you don't know about that either, do you?"
Jude shakes his head. "Nope." I quickly recount the rumor I'd heard from Mrs. Cromarty.
"This all has to be connected, Juno," Jude says, stepping behind me to wrap his arms around me, making it easier and less conspicuous to whisper in my ear. "The footprints in the sand, the Box, everything."
"I know," I nod. "I'll talk to my Father after my shift at the Gardens today. Until then, hide."
Jude squeezes me tight and gives me a quick peck on the lips. "I love you, Juno Quinn," he says. Then I feel his arms slip away and, by the time I turn around, he's melted into the crowd, gone. I touch my cheek where he'd kissed me, feeling a bit of the wetness left behind, flabbergasted.
Jude has never told me he loved me before.
"I...I don–" I start to say to myself, when somebody cuts me off.
"Juno! Hey, Juno Quinn! What can I getcha?"
I shake my head from my stupor and look up dumbly to find I'm at the head of the coffee line, staring blankly into the eyes of the proprietor, Jaq Eldin. He hates it when people take too long to order; it backs things up. The people behind me mutter their annoyance as well.
"Oh, uh, I'll have a–" I cut myself off again. My eyes have fallen on a clock set on a support post at the back of the kiosk. "Bloody ashes!" I curse, realizing I won't be getting my much needed cup of morning coffee after all.
I'm late for work.