Tian turned, her smile glistening, and waved a long arm at me, as if she were trying to pull me forward by magic. I realized I had stopped for longer than I’d intended to, and Roark had pushed by. Grey had come to a stop next to me, though, and as I looked at him, I saw his eyes fixed to the same place mine had been.
He looked up at me, his eyes brimming with pain that echoed my own, and I impulsively reached out to take his hand in mine, squeezing it gently. His dark eyes dropped down to my hand, and I felt him squeeze my fingers in return.
We didn’t say anything, but we didn’t have to; we were two people sharing a moment of pain and taking comfort in the fact that we weren’t alone. We stood there for a moment, and then I began to follow Tian again, and was glad when Grey retained his grip on my hand, unwilling to let me go.
The first opening we passed was a workroom, filled with tools and objects that took up almost every square inch of the place. In spite of the clutter, it was well organized: the tools were grouped together and arranged by size on the wall, and the long tables that lined the wall held objects in various stages of deconstruction. I recognized an elevator security box, a lash harness, several stun batons, a hydroponic UV light pod—random odds and ends that were small enough to be carried.
“This is Quess’s room,” Tian chirped, leaning in and looking around. “He sleeps there.” Her hand stretched out to point at the hammock tucked away in a corner.
“No doors?” Grey asked.
“No need,” she replied, craning her neck back so she could look up at him. “We’re all family. Come along.”
She moved down the hall to where Roark was waiting, his face impassive, and breezed by him, her small feet running in short steps. “This is Doxy’s room,” she announced with a flourish as she leapt up in the air and spun. Her hands made a fluttery movement as she landed, legs spread, and she pointed to the opening on the right.
I moved up to it, curious to see how the stoic woman decorated, and I couldn’t have been more unsurprised. Her room was set up as a personal training room, complete with a matted area for sparring. She slept on a cot, which was in the corner across from the opening. The blankets on it were drawn tight in militant fashion. A crimson uniform with the Squire ranking on the collar hung just next to it, the folds crisp, as if she ironed it every day. Next to that sat a rack that clearly held her knives when she wasn’t wearing them.
Tian turned and skipped down the hall a few seconds later, showing us her room, which was awash with paint on the wall and a simple mattress on the floor, a paint-stained blanket on top of it. Tiny crystals that I recognized as broken bits of the convex lenses used for relaying and distributing energy dangled from string and thin lengths of wire. Like the hall, this room was filled with string lights, running ragged around the walls and on the ceiling. She took a minute to introduce us to her homemade stuffed bear, Commander Cuddles.
Grey and I both indulged the odd girl, greeting the bear in turn, but Roark wouldn’t participate, and I could tell that Tian’s behavior bothered him. I sensed in him the need to fix her, help her to be more normal.
Yet as odd as she was, she was charming. Her crooked smile and single dimple seemed to light up the room. She moved as if she were dancing half the time, skipping from spot to spot, with an occasional lavish twirl thrown in here and there. There was no keeping her still, either; I didn’t think she could stop, like one of those old-world hummingbirds that Zoe had told me about.
“And this is Cali’s room,” she chirped as she led us to the doorway just past hers. Cali’s room was not what I had expected at all. I had assumed her room would be like her daughter’s, packed with weapons and training equipment. Instead, it was filled with books. I recognized most of them, the familiar uniform covers that were color-coded for each department: orange for Cogs, green for Hands, crimson for Shields, and so on. Shelf after shelf lined the walls of the small room, all packed with books. The collection alone made me whistle; these books were prized by their departments, coveted by others. And Cali was sitting on a treasure trove of them.
But there were more—maps of beige shapes contrasting against the dark blue behind them, with names written on them like “Germany” and “The United States of America.” Books that had more than one color or picture on the cover, some depicting people, others landscapes, others objects. My gaze fell on one with a bright cover and a crude drawing on the front, my eyes going over the title: Danny, the Champion of the World, by Roald Dahl.
I’d never seen so many books in one place, even when I’d been to Zoe’s father’s shop before he died. I looked over at Grey and saw him staring at the books too, a hungry gleam in his eyes.
“Tian, does Cali ever let anyone borrow her books?” he asked, looking down at the slender waif standing between us. Her white-blonde bob dipped up and down.
“Yes, but she has very strict rules about it. I’m on a three-week suspension because I committed a hot cocoa infraction.” She leaned close to Grey, her hand going up to block one side of her mouth. “It is a level nine offense, punishable by losing dinner and coloring time.”
Grey smiled, his eyes softening. “That’s a pretty severe punishment. Do you think you learned your lesson?”
The blonde bob started whipping back and forth before he had even finished the question. “This is my third offense.” Her hands fluttered to her sides and she smoothed her clothes down primly. “Cali says I’m doomed if it happens again, but I just can’t help it! Hot cocoa and stories by the window is the best! C’mon, I will show you where you three will be staying.”
She led us the rest of the way down the hall, until the low ceiling lifted up and away and we stepped into a wide-open space. The floor dropped down into a pit, where several large pieces of equipment sat. On the left and the right were the same glass panes as I’d seen in the dining area, set up in a wide circle, making it look like a fish eye against the metal and concrete walls.
Tian skipped down the semi-steep staircase that ran into the trench. I watched her for a second and then whipped out my lash, swung it around once, and hit the side of the incline. I quickly lashed down to the bottom—it was only a twenty-foot drop, really—and took a quick glance around as the others made their way down.
Tian landed lightly on her feet a moment or two later, and in short order everyone was down. “So we don’t really have much in the way of beds,” she said, fluffing up her hair with her hands. “But we have some hammocks and a few extra blankets.” She moved over to a crate and pushed open the lid, pulling out a wad of fabric, with long coils of rope spilling from the gaps in the material.
She tossed the first one in front of us with a thump, and Roark immediately bent over to pick it up, tucking it under his arm and stalking toward where all the massive machines sat. I watched him go, alarmed by the sudden shift in his attitude.
I was indecisive for a moment, but then I turned to Grey. “I’m going to check on Roark,” I told him, my voice pitched low for his ears. “Keep Tian distracted—I don’t want her overhearing anything and misconstruing it later.”
He nodded and then turned to Tian, who was now pulling a second wad of fabric and rope from the bin. I turned just as he said, “Hey, do you want to help me pick out a good place for my hammock? I’m guessing you know all the best and worst places in the room.”
Tian gave an excited cry as I drew away from them, and I followed Roark’s path around one of the bulky machines. The area behind it was empty, but I saw a narrow gap between two machines, and pushed through it.
Sure enough, Roark was inside, kneeling on the grated floor and unraveling his hammock on the far side of the room. He glanced up at me as I entered the small space, then continued to work.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, skipping the pleasantries.
He grunted as he whipped a length of rope around some of the fabric, working to untangle the lines so he could hang the hammock. “It’s not what you think.”
“You can’t possibly kn
ow what I—”
“You think I saw something that made me suspicious, right?” he said gruffly, peering up at me with sharp eyes. “I’m not stupid; I know you’re entertaining doubts. It’s too serendipitous, too coincidental.” He stopped and sighed. Shook his head and frowned. “You kids don’t know how to hope, not really. And it’s the damn Tower’s fault. Distrust and suspicion are ingrained in all of us. People willing to drop their own family members, kill unborn children in an attempt to cull the population. Sheep—and the shepherds are all wolves. These people aren’t like that, Liana. They’re like us—outsiders and dreamers. People who dare to think and question and defy the very system that would regulate us all to death, reduce us to a statistic, a number. They have every bit as much to lose as we do in this relationship. More, even, as this is their home. It has been for many years.”
I listened to his speech, and didn’t find myself disagreeing. Truthfully, the same thing had been playing in the back of my mind, my instincts warring with my more logical side. I wanted to believe in this place, because it meant that the group of people I could rely on was getting bigger. I just wanted it to include the rest of my extended family, too.
As I considered this, I looked up at him to see he was now threading his hammock’s main line over and around a pipe, stringing one end up, and a question occurred to me. “Well, I’m glad to hear that, but it doesn’t exactly answer my question. Why are you acting so weird? Are you okay?”
Roark looked up at me, a hard edge coming to his face. Then he turned away and said, “I didn’t get a chance to grab a picture of Selka before we ran.”
He said it evenly, but I could feel his pain and loss in spite of that. He had nothing left to connect him with his wife. “I’m sorry,” I offered, but he shook his head.
“Don’t be—it’s not your fault. You fought like a banshee with that mentor of yours, and were quick on your feet in the aftermath. I’m glad you were there. And... I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you said you were being followed.”
Huh. An apology from Roark was the last thing I’d ever expected. “Color me paranoid, but who is this man and what has he done with Roark?”
Roark smiled as he crossed over to the other side of the hammock, taking care not to step on the fabric. “Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got a smart mouth?”
“Not recently,” I replied. “But then again, I’ve been a bit cautious about letting it free, so to speak. Didn’t want to draw any attention to myself.”
“Doesn’t seem like it’ll be a problem here—unless of course that Maddox girl and you get into it. Still, I don’t see it being anything more than you two finding out who’s top dog.”
“I don’t think I’m going to stay here long enough to find out.” Besides, I was fairly confident Maddox could rip me in half if she wanted to. The girl was intimidating.
Roark gave me a pitying glance. “You know you can’t leave for a while, right?”
I frowned. “What do you mean? Cali said we could talk about it soon.”
“‘Soon’ is a vague concept, Liana. It doesn’t mean tomorrow, and it doesn’t necessarily mean the day after that, either. Cali’s going to want to put it off for a while to keep you here.”
“But...” I frowned. Looked at him. “You know I have to go to Zoe. She’s up there, and she needs us. You said you would help.”
“I have every intention of helping, my dear. But Gerome is out there, and he’s going to have Knights watching the people you care about, waiting for you to surface. You can’t bring them here and expect this place to remain a secret.”
I hated what he was saying, but he was right. I was a guest here; these people were giving us shelter, and it was hard justifying any sort of rash action. I could play it cool for a day or two, be nice, be patient, and hope that Cali would help me figure out a way to leave here without drawing any attention to myself. And I needed Roark’s help to do that.
“Zoe’s a four, Roark. It won’t be long until she’s a three, and by then it’ll be too late. Cali said the system is rigged, and she’s right. And Zoe’s going to pay the price of it because of what I exposed her to. Because of what we needed her to do in order to save Grey’s life.”
He stopped pulling the rope around the pipe, the hammock still slack on the floor, and sighed. “I’ll talk to Cali about it, and I’ll do what I can to bring her around.”
“You’d do that for me?” That made me feel so much better—Roark and Cali seemed evenly matched in terms of their connection, so maybe his word would carry more weight. After all, he was the reason so much of this plan, this idea, was coming together. Was bringing us together.
He shrugged and turned back to the rope, pulling more of the slack out. “Absolutely. Because you’re right—I still owe you and her both for saving Grey. So it’s the very least I can do.”
Gratitude welled up in my heart, and on impulse I crossed the small distance between us and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pressing my front against his back in a surprise hug. He went still, and then his hand came up and patted my forearm.
“You’re welcome, dear. Now go get some rest. From the looks of you, you haven’t gotten any in a while, and today has been a very long day.”
I nodded, and retreated into the main area, looking around for Grey. He was fiddling with his hammock, which was strung in the corner next to the wide windows. I looked up, realized that a second hammock was already strung just a few feet above his, and smiled.
I quickly walked over to him, and he looked up at me as I drew near, a soft smile growing on his face.
“Is Roark okay?” he asked.
“Yes, he just... He didn’t grab a picture of Selka before we left,” I informed him, and he nodded. “Where’s Tian?”
“She helped me hang up your hammock and then said it was bedtime before lashing out of here. I’m guessing there’s some sort of bedtime ritual involved.”
“Probably. So... we’re bunk mates?”
He grinned and ran a hand through his wild hair. I noticed that the skin on his arm was fully healed now, and felt relieved that Roark’s medicine had worked so quickly. “Well, I remember you saying you liked a good view, so—”
The next thing I knew, he was shrugging off his shirt, revealing the bare lines of his chest. My mouth went dry, and I met his eyes, trying to keep my heart from tearing out of my ribcage. He was already smiling, and one eyebrow was arched.
“I didn’t mean me,” he said, stepping aside to reveal the window behind him, and I blushed beet red, embarrassment curling up in my stomach, but never finding a comfortable spot to sit.
Still, I was flattered that he had not only remembered that I liked a nice view, but presented one as well.
A smirk tugged at my lips, and I reluctantly looked away, just shy of being too bold. I directed my eyes toward the window, taking in the river snaking along below, the dark mass of water glinting silver under the faint light of the moon. Even though here, under the Tower, was dark and shadowed, I could just about make out the narrow edge of the horizon, the smooth, flat landscape pale in the light.
“It’s pretty good,” I said approvingly. And not just the window. I looked back at him to find him standing, his eyes fixed on me. He speared me with a look I was beginning to recognize in him, and took a step closer to me.
“You were amazing today,” he said. “Calm and collected, and you fought like a beast.”
My heart sped up. “I didn’t win,” I hurriedly pointed out, trying to deflect some of the breath-stealing intensity he was aiming in my direction. “If Tian hadn’t shown up—”
“It wasn’t just that,” he said. “You were smart, resourceful. You thought quickly and helped get us out of there in one piece. You are impressive.”
Only, in my eyes, none of that was right. I immediately brushed the compliments aside. “You realize it’s my fault that we are even here in the first place, right?” I said, the words tumbling out of me, and Grey frowned.
/>
“What are you talking about?”
My shoulders shifted slightly, trying to relieve some of the discomfort there. “What happened with Silvan is what prompted Gerome to confront us. He wouldn’t have been there if I had just followed your lead during our meeting with Silvan.”
Grey’s eyebrows drew closer together, his frown deepening. He reached out with one hand, slowly, his eyes silently asking me for my permission. I nodded, and then his hand touched the side of my face, cupping my cheek. I felt lightheaded as he pulled me close.
“It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known any of that would happen,” he said, his other arm coming around my waist. I found myself licking my lips, my gaze locked on his mouth. “And you were brave and quick on your feet in the aftermath of everything. I could never be as level-headed as you.”
His head was dropping down, closer and closer to mine.
“You haven’t seen me cook,” I managed.
He chuckled, and I watched as the angular planes of his face softened, his mouth drawing even closer. “I’m not interested in cooking,” he replied. “But I am interested in you.”
My breath finally gave out, but it didn’t matter—his mouth was on mine, his lips and mouth hungry. A hunger of my own—unlike anything I’d ever felt before—erupted out of me, and I found myself kissing him back, my hands reaching for his bare shoulders and then the back of his neck, holding his head in place as he held mine. His breath hitched, the hand on my waist dropping to my hip. He moved us both backward, until I felt the hard press of the wall behind me.
Grey pinned me between himself and the wall as his kiss intensified, and I burned inside, desperately alone and afraid, and ready to lose myself to this undeniable attraction I felt for him.
“You know,” a feminine voice spoke up, and Grey and I froze, suddenly aware that we weren’t alone. “I was raised that girls and boys shouldn’t kiss before they are married. But I never listened to them on that one. The one thing I did do, however, was wait to make love until I was married. I hope you two will understand if I pull the ‘my house, my rules’ card—or I’ll have to split you up to bunk with Quess and Maddox.”