Shadowlark (15 page)

There was no way out.

• • •

In the evenings, after I’d forced myself to eat dinner and dragged myself back to my tiny room, I read Basil’s journal. My brother was not skilled at writing—none of us were, really. There was no reason for us to learn to express ourselves that way, living behind the Wall. Still, I found myself dragged into the brief glimpses of his journey marked down on the pages. I combed the entire thing, searching for mentions of alternate routes to the surface, anything that might help these people, but found nothing.

I kept hoping—and dreading—to see my name somewhere, to see him write that he missed me. But he wrote nothing of his feelings, noting only observations of the world around him.

The evidence that he missed me was in the way my face peeped out of the margins every few pages. The drawings were the real window into Basil’s heart.

I paused, sitting up on my bed.
Of course.
It was late on the fourth day since we’d arrived at the underground city, the fourth day of training and studying. I’d been so focused on trying to find clues in Basil’s ramblings that I’d been ignoring the pictures, most of which were sketches of faces or plants, or else technical diagrams of half-imagined machines. Most— but not all.

Flipping the pages back, I found what I was looking for. To the casual observer, the page was filled with a nonsensical pattern of little lines, some slashing through others, some ending in meaningless symbols. But they weren’t meaningless—I knew what they were. The memory was distant, but not gone. Now that I knew what the rebels here needed so badly, the memory came flooding back.

When we were children, Basil would sometimes let me come with him when he snuck into the school and other architect-run buildings by navigating the long-unused sewers. He knew every turn and hatch, but I—I was little and knew nothing about it, and I didn’t know my way. Afraid of getting separated and leaving his little sister alone in the tunnels beneath the city, Basil had made me diagrams of the tunnels that I had to memorize so I could always find my way home, no matter where I was. He’d come up with a code, so that anyone who stumbled across our maps wouldn’t realize what they were and give away our escapades.

I stared down at the page in the journal, my fingers smoothing over ink and paper. This wasn’t nonsense. This was a map. It was a way out of Lethe for the Renewables—it was an escape route.

An idea began to form in my mind, and even though it was new and only half-formed, my mind tingled with excitement. But before I could approach anyone about it, I had to ask the one person on whom my plan hinged. It’d be dangerous—too dangerous, if I let myself think about it.

So don’t think, for once. Just go.

I pushed myself up off my bed and headed for the door, which I’d left open to try to let the air circulate. I plucked at my shirt, which felt damp and sticky against my skin, and wished my complexion was a bit more forgiving in this heat. I knew my face would be bright red, my hair lank, nothing like the bouncy curls Olivia sported.

I turned for Oren’s room next to mine, only to find the door ajar and the lights off. I whispered his name and pushed the door open a little further, but there was no response. He was gone. I had no idea what time it was, but I was pretty sure it had been hours since most of the rebels had gone to bed.

With a sinking feeling, I made for the corridor where Olivia’s room was located. Even though I knew the layout of this place now, at least the section that we inhabited, I still felt like an outsider after nightfall. The silent corridors echoed my footsteps back to me, broken only by the dripping water here and there and the occasional banging of a pipe.

I stopped a few paces away from Olivia’s door, which was closed. I couldn’t hear anything from this distance and refused to put my ear to the door like an eavesdropper.
Just wait until tomorrow,
I told myself.
Are you really going to storm in there like some jealous girlfriend?
I swallowed. I had rejected Oren, not the other way around. Who was I to say he couldn’t fall for someone else, someone far better suited to him?

And yet I couldn’t turn away. I told myself it was because I had to know if he’d help me, but it felt weak, even in the privacy of my own thoughts. Clenching my jaw, hating myself, I reached out and banged on the metal door with the heel of my hand.

Nothing.

I waited, my heart pounding painfully, then tried again. There was still no response, and I was about to try a third time when the door next to Olivia’s opened a crack and a sleepy, disgruntled face peeked out. I recognized Copper, a skinny, black-haired boy about my age who specialized in tinkering with machines and often helped Parker as he tried to unlock Basil’s journal’s secrets.

“The hell, Lark?” he muttered, staring blearily at me. “A little late for a romantic rendezvous, isn’t it?”

“Sorry.” Why would I show up at Olivia’s door for romance? Unless he’d just heard the clanging and mistook it for his own door. At least I could blame the heat as the reason my cheeks were red. “Do you know where Olivia is?”

“Not here!” Copper replied shortly. Then he rubbed a hand over his face, groaning. “Try the training grounds, or the roof. She doesn’t sleep a lot these days.”

I took a deep breath. “Thanks, Copper. Sorry I woke you!”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Not all of us can run on magic, might think about that next time you decide to wake up the whole hallway.” But his tone was, at least, a little bit mollified.

I headed toward the training cavern, unsure of what I meant to do when I got there. All I knew was that I couldn’t spend another day here doing nothing but waiting.

The cavern was dark except for a few lights over the sparring mats. Olivia and Oren were the only people there, and they showed no signs of fatigue. Oren was as much of a night person as Olivia was. They were circling each other, their eyes locked, every shift and movement deliberate. When Olivia feinted to the right, Oren slid smoothly sideways. When he darted forward, she twisted neatly away. They looked like dancers, graceful and strong, always moving. The pool of illumination in the dark cave was like a spotlight, setting each mote of dust ablaze to twirl after them as their movements caused eddies and currents in the air.

Neither of them spoke—the only sounds were the occasional swift gasp of breath or murmur of effort.

And then, a shift. Olivia stumbled and Oren leaped forward, ready to take advantage of her mistake. But in his eagerness he moved too far, and Olivia miraculously found her feet and ducked under his arm. Quick to capitalize on the success of her ruse, she grabbed his wrist as he passed, and twisted. With a grunt of effort and a cry of surprise from Oren, she slammed him down into the mat. He started to twist free, stopping only when she pressed her knee to his throat. For a moment the only sound was their harsh breathing as they stared at each other, expressions mirror images of fierceness and exertion. And then Oren laughed.

It was only a chuckle, barely more than a quick exhalation. But my heart stopped, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of him as Olivia helped him to his feet, laughing as well. I’d never seen Oren laugh—I’d barely ever seen him smile. He was always serious, focused on the next task. Focused on surviving, on winning, on keeping us safe.

I struggled for breath, backing up a pace. I couldn’t ask him to come with me. For the first time since I’d met him, and maybe for the first time ever, Oren was happy. How could I ask him to risk all of it for my own personal vendetta?

I had turned for the door, trying to rethink my plan, when Olivia suddenly called in surprise, “Lark!”

I grimaced, briefly considering pretending I hadn’t heard her and finishing my awkward exit. The moment they’d just shared had been so beautiful, so graceful—my presence felt like an intrusion. But when I turned, Olivia was smiling, jogging toward me.

“What’re you doing up?” she asked, breathless, cheeks perfectly pink. Behind her I saw Oren stretching, one arm folded up behind his head.

“I was—I couldn’t sleep.” I jerked my gaze from Oren, focusing on Olivia.

“What, again?” She grinned. “We’re going to have to start drugging you to get you to rest.”

“You’re one to talk.” I smiled back, but it felt weak. I wanted to slap myself—
Pull yourself together, Lark.
I took a deep breath, lifting my chin. “I heard you guys as I passed in the hallway outside. I didn’t mean to interrupt your training. You looked amazing,” I added, sounding less hesitant. Because that much, at least, was true.

“Thanks.” Olivia smiled at me, clearly loving the praise. She took a couple steps closer and added, “But it’s okay, we were just finishing up.”

Before I could reply, Olivia strode on past me, turning to walk backwards for a moment and call out, “Later, Oren! See you tomorrow.” Then, more quietly, “’Night, Lark. I hope you find some rest.”

And then she was gone, leaving me and Oren alone. It was the first time we’d been alone for more than a few seconds since the first night we came here and we spoke in my room. I toyed with the idea of leaving—I had a plan to rethink. But Oren was watching me as he stretched, clearly waiting to see if I’d speak first. Never had I wished more that the gulf that had sprung up between us was gone.

I made my way toward the mats, my racing heart at war with my roiling stomach. More than ever, I knew I couldn’t ask Oren what I’d planned on asking him. I scanned his features for a few seconds before looking away, focusing on the equipment lining the edge of the cavern.

“Hey,” said Oren, after a breath.

“Hey.” I searched for something else to say. “That was pretty incredible to watch. It looks like you two are pretty evenly matched.”

He nodded, pulling off a pair of gloves that no doubt afforded his hands some protection while he was fighting. “I suppose so. If I had a knife, she wouldn’t stand a chance. But I’m not used to fighting unarmed, so it’s good practice.”

That made me smile in spite of myself. At least the arrogant side of him hadn’t gone anywhere. “It’s good you get along outside the training, too. At least that way it’s not awkward when one of you pummels the other.”

“Get along?” I looked up to find Oren watching me blankly.

“You’re spending a lot of time together. You know, meals and so on.”

Oren considered that, then nodded. “I think she likes me because I’m not afraid to hit her back. Apparently that’s a thing here. Guys aren’t supposed to hit girls.”

I knew by “here” he meant “cities” in general. He managed to say it without that disgusted curl of his lip, though. “It’s generally frowned upon,” I replied.

Oren shrugged, depositing the gloves in a bin at the edge of the mats. “You ask me, if someone’s trying to kill you, you’d better try and kill them first, whether they’re a girl or not.”

I took a step back. “Well, I ought to—”

“Did you come looking for me?” Oren turned back from the bin again, watching me through the sandy-brown hair that fell across his eyes.

“What? No. No, I was just going for a walk.”

Oren made no move to leave. “You just had that look, that’s all.”

“What look?”

His lips twitched—it might’ve been a trick of the low light, but it looked almost like a tiny smile. “You scowl when you’re thinking. You get a little line, just here.” He lifted his hand to touch a fingertip to his own forehead, just between his eyebrows. “You weren’t scowling at Olivia, so I can only assume it’s me you’re after.”

There was no reply to that. I’d had no idea Oren could read me so well. He read the tracks of animals and the patterns of the weather, but where had he learned to understand people?

I sighed, shaking my head. “I
was
looking for you,” I admitted. “But I changed my mind. It’s something I have to figure out on my own.”

Oren flexed his fingers and rotated his wrists for a few moments, then put his hands in his pockets. “Something to do with your new teacher?”

His voice made me pause. His face was blank, even cool, his pale eyes lingering on mine. But there was a darker edge to his tone, so subtle I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t gotten so used to scanning him when we first started traveling together for the slightest hints of what was going on inside his head.

Could he be as thrown by our sudden separation as I was? Even if—and I refused to acknowledge the way my throat closed—even if he was happy working so closely with Olivia, it didn’t mean he’d completely forgotten I existed.

Suddenly I found myself saying, “I think I know a way of getting to the surface; it’s in Basil’s journal. I think if I can do that, the people here will trust me enough to let me lead a rescue mission, too. Because I had an idea about getting into CeePo—about finding Tansy, and Nix too if they’ve got it.”

Oren’s expression flickered as he gave a little grunt. “You’re sure you want to go after them? A girl who betrayed you and a machine built by the people who used you?”

I had to smile at that, albeit wearily. “Nix defied its programming to help me. And I believe Tansy genuinely wanted to do the right thing, even if she wasn’t being honest about it. I can’t let whatever happened to my brother happen to her.”

Oren lifted a shoulder in another shrug. “If you say so. Where do I come in?”

I hesitated. It wasn’t Oren’s fight. I’d already uprooted his life, made him the only self-aware monster in existence, made it so this underground prison was the only place he’d be safe. And now I was asking him to risk losing that too.

“Tell me.” He moved closer to me, his voice quiet and calm.

“I could find a way to do it without you,” I said slowly. “I think.” I kept trying to push down my uneasiness, to trust that Oren could say no if he wanted to.
I’d follow you anywhere,
he told me. I wasn’t sure it was fair to ask this of him.

But he nodded, urging me on, so I took a deep breath and said, “You’re Lethe’s most wanted criminal right now. Don’t you think Prometheus himself would want a look at you?”

Oren was silent, his eyes on mine. I could almost see him thinking, his gaze searching, his lips pressed together. Then, very slowly, he nodded. “We’re going to need Wesley.”