more afraid of Bo, so … maybe …
“We’ll join you in the music room when he’s ready,” I say. The hope
that I might be able to talk to Needle about the way I feel about Gem lifts
my spirits. At least a little.
Needle moves a hand to her lips and then rubs the same hand in a
circle on her stomach, but I shake my head. “No, we don’t need anything
else to eat or drink,” I say. “Thank you.”
She takes a step back into the hall, but I can tell she’s reluctant to go.
Every minute Gem’s here is another minute we could be discovered. Bo
could be fetching his father and a team of guards right now. I don’t think he
would risk his future—he wants to be king and understands how stubborn I
can be if I don’t get my way—but Needle’s right. We won’t be safe until
Gem’s back in his cell.
“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “We’ll be quick. I promise.”
Needle smiles—a grin that transforms her simple face into something
truly beautiful—and nods before disappearing down the hall toward the
music room.
“She’s happy you can see her,” Gem says.
“I’m happy I can see her, too.” I turn back to him. “I never
understood how much I was missing. We have our own language, but she
says a hundred things at once with her face.”
“She does. And she’s right. I should go. We can—”
“Not yet,” I beg, wishing he never had to go. “Tell me your people’s
version of the story. It won’t take long, will it?”
Gem’s forehead wrinkles, the scales there crinkling like tissue paper.
“Not too long …” He takes a breath, and his forehead smoothes. “The
legends of my people say the old ships brought too many colonists. They
expected many of the settlers to die in the first years here, falling prey to
predators or disease. But this world was good to them. Their numbers
grew, and by the time the domes were complete, there wasn’t enough
room inside for everyone. The people who organized the expeditions, those
in power, the people you call the nobles, saw what was coming and took
steps to protect themselves. They crept into the domes in the night and
locked the other colonists out.”
“Because they had mutated?”
“A little, but back then my people still looked more like the Smooth
Skins,” he says, taking my hand in his and turning it over, running his finger
over the flaky skin where my claws would be if I had them. “They didn’t
fully mutate until months later.… The summer heat was brutal that year,
and brought new predators from the mountains. My people were dying of
sunstroke and animal attacks. They left their settlement and returned to
New Hope to—”
“One of the first cities,” I say, pleased I paid attention to my history
lessons. “But that’s hundreds of miles south, past Port South even.”
“My people were originally part of the New Hope settlement,” he
says. “So they returned there, begging to be allowed in until the heat
passed, but the people inside refused to open the gates. That’s when my
ancestors started north. They hoped the summer would be easier here, but
it wasn’t. They made it as far as Yuan before being taken in by another
group of outsiders. They had built shelters with the remains of their ship
and were weathering the heat a little better.”
He crosses his arms, emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders. It was
hard for me to imagine him being descended from the same people as the
small, narrow men of this city. Learning that half of his people came from
somewhere else makes sense.
“The real changes started not long after,” he continues. “But my
ancestors were grateful. They considered the mutations a blessing.
Mutation allowed them to survive the heat, and fight off predators. In
those days, there were still giant horned cats hunting the lands here.”
I blink. “Horned cats?”
He nods. “At first, the creatures left us alone, but when the land
outside the domes began to die, their usual prey died along with it and they
began hunting people.”
“It’s strange to think of the world being so … different.”
“But it
isn’t just a story for him. This is his history, the legacy of his people. “There
were forests and grasslands and fruit and game. In the early days, there
was no reason for my people to envy the people in the domed cities. We
had everything we needed. Even when the forests died and the grassland
turned to desert, we survived. After the mutations, our children were all
born larger and stronger than Smooth Skins, with scales and claws and
other adaptations that allowed us to survive.”
“Then why …” I hesitate, knowing I’ll have to phrase my question
carefully. “Why did your people and the others outside the domes attack
the cities? I understand you need food
uncertainty clear in his eyes. “Some of the tribes to the north think
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe they’re right. My chief thought …”
“She thought what?”
“She thought …” When his gaze returns to me, his eyes are so full of
pain, it summons a sound from my throat.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, coming to my knees on the floor in front of
him.
He shakes his head. “I can’t …”
“Tell me.” I run my fingers down his cheeks, over the whiskers on his
chin. They’re black, even blacker than his hair, and sharp enough to tickle
the skin around my mouth when we kiss.
A kiss. It seems the thing to do. I lean in, pressing my lips to his
forehead the way he pressed his to mine, offering comfort, but after only a
moment he takes me by the shoulders and sets me gently away.
“I should go.” He rises from the floor in one effortless movement and
starts toward the door.
“All right,” I say, trying not to be hurt by his eagerness to leave. He’s
right. We’ve already been longer than the “moment” I promised Needle.
“I’ll send the guards at the usual time tomorrow.” I come to my feet
much less gracefully, struggling with my skirts, and follow him down the
hall to the music room. “We can talk more while we work in the garden.”
He casts a narrow look over his shoulder.
“I know what you said about the bulbs, but it will give us an excuse to
meet.” I clear my throat, pushing down the sadness rising inside me as
Needle hands Gem the rope and gathers her sweater.
It doesn’t matter that the garden is a lie. I’m not tainted, and Gem
isn’t a monster. There might be no need for herbs to impede mutation. If
the people in the Banished camp have scales or claws or other mutant
characteristics, there’s nothing wrong with that. What’s wrong is the way
the rest of the city treats them. I’ll find a way to convince the whole citizens
that they have nothing to fear from those who look different.
“Tomorrow, then?” I ask, voice rising sharply as Needle hurries past
me to the tower stair and Gem follows without saying a word.
What have I done? Why does he suddenly seem so cold?
“Gem?” My voice breaks in the middle of his name, betraying how
much it hurts for him to leave this way.
He stops, his entire back rigid, before he turns and walks back down
the hall toward me. He looks angry, furious, and for a moment I’m afraid of
what he’ll say, but he doesn’t say a word. He pulls me into his arms, lifting
me off my feet, silencing my breath of surprise with a kiss.
with my hands propped beneath my throbbing head. I watch the moonlight
move across the ceiling, and remain sleepless even though my body aches
with exhaustion.
The magic of Yuan might still save my people, but—
take her
at the cost of a life now and then? Better one life than many. And if she’s
going to die …
If she’s going to die …
…
chair, studying the moonlight shimmering on the lake outside his window,
while I stand at attention before the fire until my shoulders cramp and
sweat runs down the valley of my spine. “Baba, please—”
“You aren’t a child,” he snaps without bothering to look my way.
“Stop using childish words.”
“I’m sorry, Father,” I say, then, “Captain,” because I’m not sure which
he’d prefer now that I’ve disappointed him so completely. I shouldn’t have
told him the truth.
But I had to tell. There was no avoiding it. Isra can see, and she wants
to know why. I wouldn’t be surprised to find her on Father’s doorstep first
thing in the morning. Father would have known soon enough. Better that
he heard it from me.
“I thought I was doing right by my future wife,” I say. “That’s all. I
never meant to defy you.”
He finally turns to me, but I wish he hadn’t. The utter absence of
feeling in his eyes makes my heart lurch. He has never looked at me like
this, even when he used a switch to express his displeasure with his only
son.
“You disobeyed an order from your father, who is also your superior,
and violated the wishes of your former king,” he says, every word as crisp
as the folds ironed into his uniform. My mother irons his clothes herself.
The maids never get the creases quite right, and everything must be exactly
right in my father’s house. Perfect. If not, everyone under his roof pays the
price. “That is the definition of defiance.”
“I—I’m sorry,” I stammer again, hating the whine creeping into my
voice. Father’s right; I sound like a child.
It’s Isra’s fault. I never should have told her about the tea. I should
have let her live out the rest of her life in the darkness. What difference will
it really make? Will sight make her happy, and even if it does, does her
happiness matter? The kingdom doesn’t require her happiness, only her
blood.
“You’re impulsive, Bo. That isn’t a good trait in a king.” Father rises
from his chair and crosses to stand too close, the way he does when one of
his soldiers has stepped out of line. I’ve seen Father break men with