Numbers Ignite (15 page)

Read Numbers Ignite Online

Authors: Rebecca Rode

Tags: #Teen & Young Adult, #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Science Fiction, #Survival Stories, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Dystopian

“And by the way,” she said, “Let me warn you again. If you insist on holding school tomorrow, you’ll teach only approved subjects. Surely you can heed my advice for one day.”

I thought of Mandie. Who would answer her questions when I left? Maybe Ruby would continue their lessons in my absence. But I discarded that thought immediately. She’d never participated in our lessons. As an elder, she probably wasn’t allowed. When I left, that would be it.

“Fine,” I said, letting the guilt sweep over me. I was betraying those kids twice over. “One day.”

 

 

I scowled at my reflection in the mirror. This was just not going to work.

The dress Lillibeth had loaned me was ten centimeters too long and—well, poufy. Everywhere. It was like carrying my bed around with me. Thick, striped, navy-blue fabric covered every centimeter of my body except my face and fingertips. Instead of coming in at the waist, it draped.

“I am not wearing this,” I said.

“Oh, you look fine,” Lillibeth said from behind me. She wore a green dress with a similar cut, only it looked somewhat normal on her. She had released her black hair from its braid, and it fell in gentle waves down to her waist. She came up behind me and reached up to touch my hair. I recoiled.

“Are you leaving your hair like that?” she asked in a casual tone, but I could sense irritation in her voice.

“I’m not trying to impress anyone.”

“Well, I’d prefer if you didn’t embarrass us, either.” She held out the brush.

I took it and ran it through my hair. It caught. Maybe it had been too long since I ran a comb through it. I began brushing more vigorously. When I was finished, Lillibeth began pinning my hair up, twisting and then piling it at the top of my head.

She was nearly done when someone clapped their hands outside the doorway.

“Enter,” Lillibeth said, pinning up the last wayward piece of hair.

Coltrane pushed the cloth aside and walked in. He wore a white, collared shirt and dark pants with a blue vest. How he’d gotten his clothes so clean in a dirt-filled cavern was beyond me. The thing that made my breath catch was the bouquet of wildflowers he held toward me.

For the second time in two days, I took the flowers and murmured a thank-you. These settlers had strange customs, but I could definitely get used to this one. “What are these for?”

“Beautiful girls deserve beautiful flowers,” Coltrane said. “I think they’re the same kind Ruby gave you.” His voice was nonchalant, but his flaming cheeks gave him away.

I expected Lillibeth to snap at him for sneaking above to retrieve flowers, but she watched her son with a strange, secretive smile. Coltrane met her gaze and grinned back.

“What should I do with these?” I asked, holding them awkwardly. “I don’t have to carry them around all night, right?”

“Oh, no,” Lillibeth said quickly, reaching out. “Here, I’ll take them. They’ll look great in the front room.”

“Wait,” Coltrane said. He plucked an orange flower off the vine and tucked it into my hair. His eyes sparkled when he stepped away. “Perfect.”

I looked myself up and down. “Perfect? I look like a swamp monster. This dress doesn’t even come close to fitting.”

“It may be a bit big for you, but it works. I mean, it covers everything that needs to be—stars. I’m going to shut up now.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I think that would be wise.”

“Shall we go?”

I looked wistfully at my usual clothing, wadded up on the floor. Even a blanket wrapped around me would look better than this dress. But it didn’t matter what I wore. By this time tomorrow I’d be getting ready to leave. This would be a good opportunity to say good-bye—even though nobody but Lillibeth knew my plans.

“Have fun, you two,” Lillibeth said as we left. “I’ll be right behind you.”

 

 

 

 

 

As it grew dark, traffic on the trail increased, but I was sick of watching. My neck and shoulders were sore from sitting straight, so I resolved to find a more comfortable position. My sore ribs refused to cooperate, but eventually I found that sinking to the bottom of the cage with my knees bent allowed me to adjust which bars held the weight of my back, which I rotated often. I hadn’t grabbed a blanket from the jail. I regretted that now.

The sky from here was actually quite striking. The shaded bowl created an interesting effect, and the sun’s last rays streaked across the sky in oranges and reds. Then they disappeared altogether, replaced by a uniform blue and finally black. It reminded me of lazy nights in the mountains with my parents, sitting around at sunset and discussing the day’s events. It was a lifetime ago.

Maybe Mills was the reason my mom wouldn’t come to visit. If he’d somehow convinced her that I really was the murderer he wanted everyone to believe—no, that wasn’t possible. A lot could happen in two years, but she knew I wasn’t a murderer. I thought of the way she’d nodded to me, giving her approval for our clan to take justice into their hands. Any other mother would have screamed and stood in the way, making excuses and pleading. But my mom had never been that way. She was too much like my father. She did what needed to be done.

I swatted absently at another mosquito, knowing as I did that it was useless. They were even worse down here than at the jail. My arms and face were already covered with bites. If I survived angry assassins, the mosquitos would get me for sure.

A couple walked by in the darkness, arms wrapped around each other’s waists in a comfortable way. One of them stopped, and I heard a woman’s whispered voice. Then she took the man’s hand and dragged him over to my cage.

“See?” she exclaimed. “I told you.”

“Welcome to the zoo,” I said. “And you are…?”

“Madilan. This is Carver.” She pulled him the rest of the way, then he planted his feet and refused to come any closer.

I could make out a shorter man with facial hair. He shuffled his weight from one foot to another before he spoke. “Why’d they put you in a cage?”

“What kind of question is that?” Madilan asked. “I’m sorry, Vance, but he’s nervous. We stopped by the jail yesterday trying to speak to you, but the guard wouldn’t let us in.”

A soft snore from my “guard” told me he was long gone. I turned back to the couple. “Well, my schedule is clear at the moment.”

“You’re younger than I thought you were,” Carver muttered.

“I doubt you came to discuss my age,” I said. “May want to get to the point before my secretary here wakes up.”

“Your age doesn’t matter,” Madilan said. “Not really. See, the thing is, your father was about to do a wedding blessing for us when NORA attacked. But then we got separated, and we just barely found each other again, and I can’t let anything split us up, and we just—” She looked up again, and the man nodded for her to continue. “Well, your father’s gone now, and they don’t perform the blessing here.”

“They do a ceremony,” Carver said, “but it’s different. Just doesn’t feel right when they say all the wrong words.”

“Anyway,” Madilan said, “we wondered if you would do it for us since you’re Iron Belt’s son.”

I stared at her. “You want me to
marry
you.”

“It sounds kind of ridiculous, I know,” Carver said. “But we’ve discussed it, and there’s nobody else we’d rather have do it. Despite what you did to land here, we respect your parents. It’s right that you should do it in Iron Belt’s place.”

“What about Rutner?” I asked.

They looked at each other. Madilan spoke carefully. “Rutner is a good man, but he’s busy.”

“He’s moved up top,” Carver said bitterly.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I said. “But I’m not the clan chief. Nothing I say means anything.”

“It means more than a settlement ceremony would,” Madilan said. “Please. I know it’s a lot to ask. But to us, you’re still the next in line. Our marriage will never feel official until it’s done right.”

I remembered the blessing. I’d seen my father perform it dozens of times. He always wore his best shirt, the kind with buttons, and scrubbed his boots right beforehand. If these people were desperate enough to approach a beaten criminal in a cage wearing an unwashed, stained shirt and holey socks, the least I could do was go along with it.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” Carver said with a smile in his voice. “I’ll get a few witnesses. Just a second.” He trotted away, then returned with three other adults, two women and a man. They positioned themselves behind the couple with big smiles.

Carver turned back to me and nodded.

I motioned for the couple to kneel. They did so, positioning themselves as close to the bars as they could. I put one hand on each of their shoulders as I’d seen my father do.

A memory of him pronouncing his blessing, his voice deep and powerful as he declared their love and commitment as official in the eyes of the clan, gave me a lump in my throat.

I swallowed it down and began.

 

 

 

 

 

As we walked to the lab, we saw dozens of couples shuffling along with us. They wore similar clothing, although the women’s dresses fit them much better than mine. I caught a glimpse of several rings on varying fingers. The shocking thing was how young some of the couples were. They held hands as they walked, looking comfortable and happy in each others’ presence. A guy with light brown skin and black hair spoke to the girl on his arm, and she said something back, her words running together in a torrent of indistinguishable words. Spanish, if I remembered correctly. Integrants in NORA were required to learn English before they received their Rating, although I’d heard other languages whispered in corners. But this couple seemed completely content to let themselves be heard. It was beautiful.

I broke out in an instant sweat the moment we stepped inside the sweltering lab. It was hard to believe it was the same room I’d seen before. Instead of tables and lines of inventions, there were people. There was barely room for a few chairs along one wall. A few boxes stood stacked in the far corner, the only evidence of this room’s usual purpose.

Music caught my attention. I stood on my tiptoes to follow it; it came from the back wall. I instantly recognized Mandie. She and her mother—Irina, I thought her name was—each held what looked like a shapely wooden contraption on one shoulder and an odd stick in the other hand. They ran the stick over the strings of the wooden instruments. Violins. A plain word for such an angelic sound.

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