Secret Worlds (558 page)

I feel Blane’s heart beating out of his suit. Or is it my heart that’s beating out of my chest? He steps closer. His warm sea apple breath drifts onto my cheeks. I breathe him in. This is dangerous madness. He reaches for me, hungrily, desperately. Our masks bump awkwardly against each other as we kiss. The taste of his tongue is as delicious as the sun pouring down. Wrapping my arms around his head, I run my fingers through his soft, cropped hair. Oh. My. God, what is happening to me?

“Ruby,” he moans. “Ruby.”

In a panic, I pull away and run. As I look toward The Greening I see Vesper, staring out the window at me. What have Blane and I done? Armonk will know, everyone will know and I’m not ready for that.

Not at all.

Lessons drip by like hardening glue. Irina’s math equations are confounding, especially with my mind reeling and Blane sitting two seats away. His presence is heating me up. His low sexy voice, answering Irina’s question about a logic problem, cuts under my skin. We avoid looking at each other, and pretend nothing’s different. But Vesper, who thankfully hasn’t run her mouth off yet, could spill any minute.

After math, Nevada takes over and gives us a history lesson. We learn more about the earthquakes that rattled through the land before the border wars. We learn about the museums that got sacked and the skyscrapers that fell. We also learn about how farmers down here are farming underground. How crops are beginning to thrive. How devastated enclaves are growing into brave little towns. How the air is slowly, slowly improving with more density of oxygen per cubic feet. But what’s mostly on my mind is that if Blane and I win spots as finalists, I’ll be riding in a hovercraft next to him.

I look over at Armonk and he grins at me. He’s so handsome with his black hair spilling over his shoulders and his white teeth gleaming. Why can’t I fall for this nice guy who takes adventure rides and talks with me in our cockeyed desert hideaway? Armonk doesn’t scare me. He doesn’t make me ache or fill me with longing.

I turn away from Armonk and Blane and toward Bea. We draw cartoons of Nevada—as a tall, warty desert lizard in fringed boots and as a fairy with green wings and green-tipped braids. Bea giggles behind her hand. She’s so much fun. Why can’t I be content just with my friends like I used to be with Petal and Freeblossom? When Blane brushes up against me on the way out of class and my heart sparks again, I know it can’t ever again be that simple.

The Stream blast wakes me even before Bea does.

Huzzah! Huzzah, Fireseeders! Today’s the day for the finalist picks. Put on your game face and display your best projects for Axiom Coastal. Ready? Set, Go!

Brought to you by Solar Flares, where the fireworks aren’t just for holidays.

“Where are my good shoes? Where’s my lip-gloss?” Bea wails. “Oh, frying hell, one of the Fireseed dresses creased overnight.” Clad only in her bra and lizard print boy panties Bea dashes over. “Ruby! Get up. George Axiom and crew will be here any minute.” I watch her as she heads toward her rolling garment rack of project clothes and irons the dress in question for the third time.

Scrambling out of bed, I check the elixirs on my desk. They’re in pretty labeled bottles I scavenged from that strange cockeyed house Armonk and I found. We went back and dug up three antique glass bottles, and an old-fashioned toaster too. We even found Thorn a pair of sneakers.

Two of my ointments I’ve tested well. A Spatter Lizard waits in my latchbag for the demonstration of the newest ointment. I hope it survives. I only tested this formula once.

Whirring outside announces the caravan of gleaming gliders. I dash to the window and stare out as they make a smooth set of landings on the front yard landing strip. There are three ships. Five judges, including George Axiom, in Axiom’s favored beach whites, step out and head to the school. They seem to gravitate to the lone woman in the crowd. She’s taller than most of the men and she carries herself regally. Unlike the men, she’s like a lovely painting in my favorite color, blue—a flowing blue dress with blue pearl buttons. Her dark hair is swept up off her neck, and she has on blood red lipstick. Intimidating, really. I wonder what job she has in her everyday life.

I know what Bea, Vesper and Armonk’s projects are, but I’ve no idea of what Radius, Jan or Blane have in store. I worry about Thorn’s. How will he lure the Reds inside The Greening, and once there, prove that he has any control over them? Will he make them do a trick? And most importantly, how will he prove they’re his special Fireseed offspring? I asked him over and over if he needed help and he shook his head defiantly every time. This is an intriguing new side to Thorn. My little brother’s growing up and it makes perfect sense that he wants to be proven competent after years of being mocked as slow.

But how will he, if he won’t talk? I fret enough for the lot of us.

Racing downstairs, I run into Vesper and we almost collide on the stairs. “From liar to slut,” she leers. Vesper never showed any sign of liking Blane, so what’s she complaining about?

It’s hard to imagine all of the horrors she experienced as a child, but she’s so bitter she’s hard to take. I can’t lie though. Vesper looks sharp as always, in a skin-tight solar-cell jumpsuit and thigh-high desert boots. She’s bound her tresses with a twisted lock of her own hair, and sandstone earrings dangle from her ears. It’s a toss-up as to whether Vesper has the better earring collection or Nevada has the superior boot collection.

“Come in, everyone, enjoy some breakfast!” Nevada has set up a deluxe smorgasbord in the parlor, where Axiom and his people are already milling about, sipping special coffee that Nevada splurged on from the north, checking their holo tablets and munching on oats with candied sea apples.

Way too hyper to eat, I huddle near Bea, who flits around, arranging her fashion line on the rack. Thorn trots in with Radius who reports that he helped Thorn get cleaned up in a nice jacket and pants. I thank Radius, who’s already flirting with Bea. The two give each other hugs and pecks on the cheek for good luck. “You make a cute couple,” I tell Bea, when Radius is distracted.

“What about you and Blane?” She winks.

I flinch. “Who told you that?”

“Word travels fast when Vesper’s involved.”

“Ack, does Armonk know?” I whisper.

“If he doesn’t, he will soon.”

My belly clenches as I glance over at Armonk. Just another thing to deal with after we find out which classmates made the finalist cut.

Blane arrives last with his holo tablet in hand and a brooding expression. He’s freshly shaven and I can’t help resting my gaze on his brown sugar freckles and soft upper lip that looks delicious enough to nibble on.

Heading to the food table, he lights up when he sees the steaming coffee. After he pours himself a cup, he seems unsure of where to sit, but he gravitates to a chair near me. I smile awkwardly at him. This seems to shift his mood and he ends up beaming at George.

Armonk comes in last, a sheaf of notes and sketches tucked under his arm and his braid strung through with narrow stone carvings. The carvings a handsome coal black, and I figure he chipped them out of Black Hills Sector rock. He and Radius have become friendly, so Armonk joins Radius and Thorn on the sofa near Bea. Armonk puts a benevolent arm around my brother. It makes me feel good that Thorn has found at least partial acceptance here at The Greening after being such a pariah back home. I don’t have to worry about him as constantly. My eyes move to Jan, by the window staring at Armonk and Thorn with narrowed eyes. Well, I do have to worry some. We’re not one happy family. Not even close.

But things are shifting in interesting ways.

George Axiom rises to the podium, as I remember him doing on that first big day. He’s wearing his trademark pastel suit with shell buttons and his platinum hair in a pouf. With the air of a proud father on his sons’ and daughters’ graduation day he begins.

“Today, dear Fireseeders, is the day we judge the first round. Four lucky finalists will be chosen from each school, and only four, so present well.” An enthusiastic, yet nervous murmur rises from the students and teachers. Nevada is sitting with Irina and another of our tutors, a wiry, over-tanned lady who sometimes teaches us poetry.

“One by one,” George continues, “when we call your name, you’ll proceed into Nevada Pilgrim’s study and present your project. Pretend you are onstage, and project your voice.” He demonstrates by fairly shouting his next line: “If you mumble, you’ll lose points!” Bea and I mock-frown at each other.

“Before we get started, I have a quick question. Have you enjoyed the Stream Blasts?” This question is met with a roar of approval.

Can’t say that I’m roaring with everyone. I’ve never gotten used to the sudden, startling noise in my head, or the ads, which make me long for things I can’t afford or have no access to. I feel more akin to the Fireseed hum that I hear when I go outside. It talks to me softly and directly with far more lyrical messages.

“That’s the spirit!” George pumps his fist in the air and the guys follow suit from wherever they’re sitting. “Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah! Pretty soon you lucky finalists will dine in Vegas-by-the-Sea’s famous Crab House Delights, and take a whirl in the Axiom Skye Ride over the beautiful Pacific.” A cheer goes up.

That’s what I want. Blue waters. Shutting my eyes, I breathe in and ask Fireseed to please deliver it. After all, Fireseed is part of me now.

“First up, Vesper Engel,” George calls. A visibly less confident Vesper saunters to the front of the room and into Nevada’s parlor. George and his panel of judges follow her. Nevada goes in last, closing the door behind her. In the parlor, talking lulls to a murmur, as we all try our best to eavesdrop. Either the golden door is too thick or they’re talking too softly. Blane and I exchange hesitant glances. He’s shy in a way that he never was before we kissed. I have to say, I am too. I want to talk to him, but I fear we’ll revert to our mean teasing. So, perhaps it’s safer to stay quiet around each other for now.

When Vesper emerges from Nevada’s office with a sour pout, I avoid her. Clearly, it didn’t go so well, and the last thing I want is for her to use me as a scapegoat. She still hasn’t run her mouth, at least in public, about seeing Blane and me together and I’d like to leave it that way.

They call Jan in next, who also comes out prune faced. I suspect, from how short a time he’s been in the office that he’s never come up with a project at all. Radius goes in next. He stays in there longer than Jan and comes out busily packing up his gear.

Axiom calls Blane. My heart pounds the whole time he’s in with the panel. I’m silently rooting for us to make the finalist cut. A big part of me wants that private Skye Ride with him. He comes out swaggering, holo tablet in the crook of his arm. He reminds me of the early Blane—overconfident and wearing it with relish. Seeing that, my heart pounds even harder. I worry that he’s ruined his chances, acting like that. No matter what his project, judges see through a braggart, don’t they? I worry that he’s brawn and little brains after all, and I’m ashamed to still feel that judgmental. If I only knew what his project was.

Next, it’s Bea’s turn. I’m one of her models, so I get to come with! Nevada, anticipating Bea’s fashion show, has set up a folding screen where I quickly wriggle into Bea’s outfits. I’m so skinny that it’s easy to slide them on and off.

The woman judge can’t hide her enthusiasm, but even the men nod their heads admiringly at Bea’s clever garments. She’s tricked them out with sun hoods, utility pockets and secret places for spare burn masks and food packs. I steal peeks at the panel, making their marks on their holo pads.

As I do my best strut down an imaginary catwalk, Bea narrates with a dramatic flinging of her hands. “Now we have my reversible sun cape. As we know, Fireseed can withstand punishing desert sandstorms and 180-degree heat. So this cape made from large, breathable top leaves is the ideal outfit for a rough overland trip or a scalding trek to the depot in summer. You never know when a sandstorm might blow up and …” Bea pauses while I lower the blue-tinted sun visor that’s tucked under the hood top. We grin at each other and enjoy the surprised intakes of breath from the panel. “You’re always ready with the extra slide-down visor.”

George Axiom, leaning forward with his mouth open, seems riveted. After all, he’s a clotheshorse
and
a businessman. Money signs practically gleam in his eyes. When the panel forgets to be neutral and starts to clap I’m sure Bea’s clinched a spot. As we walk out, we give each other a congratulatory hug.

In the parlor, we receive hateful glares from Vesper and Jan. Obviously the enthusiastic clapping has filtered through the door.

Armonk is up next, and his presentation involves the judges trooping through the parlor and out to the Fireseed field. Fingers crossed for him. I can only suppose that he’s trying to invoke a Fireseed plant to immolate, as he calls it. How does one make a plant burn itself? The last time Armonk spoke about it, he wasn’t sure.

When he returns, he walks stiffly with a set jaw. I get an uneasy feeling about it especially when Thorn bounds over to him and he doesn’t say much. I want to ask Armonk, but it feels like bad form while we’re still all waiting for word. I don’t have much time for speculation because I’m called in next. Bea wishes me good luck and Armonk gives me a thumbs-up. Blane offers me a sympathetic grin, which helps steady my quaking knees.

I march in, arrange my wares on a table that Nevada’s set up in front of the panel and launch into my speech. Sometimes I can get nervous, but not when I get a chance to delve into my passion—the making of my salves. “Since I was four I’ve been making potions and salves. You could say I’m a modern herbalist. I used to make them from crushed rocks, Dragon Lizard venom and Fireagar.” I pause to smile broadly and gauge the impact of my words. So far so good, the judges are listening intently. “Since Nevada’s taken me in, I’ve noticed new life springing up in the desert, such as this Spatters Lizard.” I reach in my latchbag and place the clear box containing the lizard on the table. It peers out at the panel. “Also these new beetle species I dubbed Antlered Purples for their antler-like protrusions.” I place that box next to the Spatter’s.