by Ramona Finn
I found myself nodding. “That does sound like Starkey.”
“I can’t say I disagree with him. Getting children involved just feels—” He sucked air through his teeth. “Thing is, you’re a well-placed kid. Your Ascension could be valuable, if you—”
“I could help Ben? Keep him safe?”
“You could help a lot of people.” Reyland smiled, thin and strained. “Lazrad’s planning a move, something quite... I was going to say decisive, but disastrous feels more accurate. You might help turn the tides, but I can’t guarantee your—”
“I don’t care if it’s dangerous. Just tell me what you need.”
Reyland shook his head. He was looking at me the way Dad did when I’d done something reckless, a pained mix of guilt and regret. “You should take the night and think about it. The risk to yourself is significant, and I—”
“I’d already decided,” I said. “Long before we met. I just came from Lazrad Corp, looking for answers. When I saw who you worked for, I—” I stopped short of admitting I’d thought of beating the truth out of him. “Can you get me in?”
“Not directly,” he said. “But once you’re inside, I can open some doors. And you will get inside, just—” He glanced at his watch. “My shift’s about to start. But look out for an invitation. There’ll be a party—well, you’ll see. Meet me back here again, same time next week.”
I blinked, head spinning. “Wait, a party? What—?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll have to run. Oh, but first—” He dug out his phone, tapped the screen, and mine chirped on my wrist. “I’ve sent you my number. But don’t call unless it’s an emergency. Lazrad does random call monitoring, so...” Reyland was already beating his retreat, reaching behind him for the door.
“Hold on.”
“What is it?”
“Why are you doing this?” I looked him up and down, taking in his attire. His watch looked expensive, and so did his suit. His nails were painted like Prium’s, a delicate silver-mauve. “I mean, why you? You’re a Lofty with a good job, trusted, comfortable. Why would you risk all that?”
Reyland faltered mid-step, and his eyes went sad and distant. “That’s a long story,” he said. “Now, I really must go.”
I waited till the elevator pinged and thumbed my phone to life. A notification popped up—CONTACT REQUEST: A. REYLAND. I tapped accept and felt grateful, and a little less alone.
At long last, I had an ally.
Chapter Twelve
By the time I got home, I’d decided to keep Reyland my secret. Lock would just worry, and Ona... who knew what she’d do? She’d joyfully and wholeheartedly embraced the Sky lifestyle like she was born to it. She loved everything about it, the food and the shopping, the music, her phone. I wanted to trust her, but I couldn’t, not with this. She seemed wary of me lately, of my ties to the Outside. Of where my loyalties might lie, and what that could mean for her. She might squeal on Reyland just to keep what she had.
Elli was out front when I arrived, leaning in the doorway with her hair hanging loose. She looked graceful as always in her green brocade tunic and her flared sky-blue skirt—like the willows in the park. She was pointing two workmen upstairs. They looked dowdy in her shadow, in their faded brown overalls. Four kids to a bedroom, Reyland had said, maybe a fifth on the way. You think that’s their dream?
I wondered about Elli’s dreams, if she had any at all. Maybe she didn’t need them. Up here, life was a dream, at least for people like her.
I trotted up to join Elli as the workmen trudged upstairs. “What’s with the grease squad?”
“A little fetching and carrying. Nothing to worry about.” She steered me through the atrium out to the yard. “Did you need something? I’m free all afternoon.”
“No, just...” I peered past her, into the house. One of the workmen had left a bootprint, dark and toad-shaped. For some reason, it struck me as threatening, a warning written in dirt. When I turned back to Elli, she was frowning. “Sorry,” I said. “I was going to ask, uh... what else is fun up here? What would you do on a night out?”
Elli’s frown evaporated like it had never existed. “I’m a club girl,” she said. She thumbed her phone and a beat struck up, a fast, driving pulse that set my blood pounding. It sounded like the Dirt, but with violins over top. Elli reached for my hand. “Dance with me.”
“What?”
She pulled me into a sunbeam. “Come on. Dance.”
“I don’t know how.”
“It’s easy. Just—” Elli did a slow spin, and her skirt floated around her. She had bracelets on her ankles, silver ones that tinkled as she swayed. She bobbed her head to the beat and swung her hips. I tried doing the same, but I jerked where she glided, off my rhythm. My hands were in the way, so I tucked them up my sleeves.
“Lightpulse is good,” said Elli. “Mostly old-school beatpop, but it has a nice mellow vibe. Or the Rivet Room. The guys there are choice, but you can barely hear yourself think.” Elli shut off the music and leaned against the wall. “I think you’d like Ether, though. It’s more of a meeting place—you can dance if you want to, or you can just have a drink.” She shot me a critical look. “You should learn to dance, though. At least before the ball.”
“The ball?” I perked up at that, thinking of Reyland. That party he’d mentioned—
Elli’s frown was back. “Didn’t Ona tell you? I was sure she’d have said. It’s two weeks from now, for new Decemites. Like a big ‘welcome home.’” She did another spin and clapped her hands. “You’ll love it. It’s amazing. You’ll meet—”
“Where is that?”
“Mm?” Elli stared for a moment, confused, maybe angry. “I was getting to that,” she said. “It’s at Lazrad Corp. Everyone comes—Prium and Lady Lazrad, the Council, even musicians and TV stars. If you’re looking to meet people, it’s a great place to start.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Oh, it is. But you will want to dance. It’s tradition. And you’ll be so gorgeous, with that hair under the lights...” She took hold of my hair and twirled it around her finger. “You should curl it. Little ringlets down the sides. You’ve a heart-shaped face, so you’ll definitely want to frame it.”
“Mm-hmm.” I edged around her, wanting our conversation to be over. Elli’s enthusiasm felt stifling, now I’d learned all I could. “I think I’ll go look for Ona,” I said. “Find out what she’s wearing to this thing.”
“Well, she’ll be...” Elli trailed off as I dodged her and kept walking, straight up the stairs like I hadn’t heard her. I stopped on the third floor, smelling cheap cigarettes.
“Hey, Myla.”
“Huh?” I spotted Jack in the living room, sprawled out on the couch. He beckoned me over, and I plopped down across from him. Sonia’s door was open, and I could see the workmen moving inside, packing her things into boxes and sealing them with tape.
“What are they doing?”
“Sonia moved out.” Jack sighed. He looked lethargic, like it’d been a while since he’d slept. “I mean, I knew she would, sooner or later. We all do—this house is just temporary, while we get settled—but...”
“But what?”
Jack didn’t say anything. He watched, dull-eyed, as one of the workmen stopped to stretch. They’d finished with Sonia’s clothes and moved on to her trinkets, a shelf full of vases, a little carved cat. They wrapped each one in plastic and settled it gently in its place, never once looking our way.
“It’s weird,” said Jack. “She never said goodbye. Like, we weren’t best friends or anything, but I thought, at least—” He shook his head. He looked hurt. “We were the last two from our group. I thought she’d say goodbye.”
“Did the others?”
“No, but they were more—they couldn’t wait to get out of here, start their real Lofty lives. Sonia wasn’t like that. I don’t think she liked it here. She missed home. She always talked about it.” He scrubbed at his cheek like it itched him. A bracelet jingled on h
is wrist—a twist of braided leather with a bell hanging off it. I pointed at it, curious.
“You get that in the Dirt?”
“Huh? Oh, this?” Jack thumbed at the bell. “My sister made it for me. She’s got the same one.”
“I made this one for Ona.” I showed him my smiley face. “But I think she likes gold better.”
“She won’t always,” said Jack. “She’ll miss you one day, and she’ll wish she had that to hold onto.”
“Maybe.” I shifted, not liking the turn the conversation had taken. “Do they ever come visit? The ones who move on?”
“They can’t. It’s part of the whole, y’know, settling in. Leaving your old life behind. Everyone keeps saying it’s easier, making a clean break of it, but it’s like you can’t hold onto anything up here.” Jack laughed, harsh and humorless. “Anyway, I’m not going anywhere. Not for a good while yet.”
“No?”
“I mean, what would I even do out there?” His gaze flicked past me, down the hill. “It’s like this whole alien world, the food, the people. I tried talking to ‘em at first, but I’d just bounce right off them. Like, I’d ask ‘how’s it going,’ and they’d be all, ‘Oh!’” He pinched his nostrils together, affecting an exaggerated Sky accent. “‘Well, I’m off to the races. Got ten on Big Top. Where did you find that shirt?’” He grabbed my cuff and fondled it. “‘So darling.’”
I chuckled. “You do a good Lofty.”
“That’s not a compliment.” Jack closed his eyes. The skin looked bruised underneath, black and purple.
“Are you feeling okay?”
Jack cracked one eye open. “Hmm?”
“You look tired,” I said. “Baggy-eyed.”
“Elli says that’s the food up here—all that rich stuff we eat is a shock to our system. I threw up a few times, so maybe that’s what it is. But honestly—” He swallowed. “I think I’m just depressed.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I didn’t know Jack well enough to guess what might cheer him up. I sat with him instead, watched with him as the workmen finished up. Sonia hadn’t done much shopping or brought much up with her. It took them two trips, four boxes each time, and her room stood white and empty.
“I think I’ll lie down a while.” Jack stood up and stretched. “Thanks for, uh...” He made a vague gesture, a flick of his wrist, and slouched off to his room. He stretched out on his bed without closing his door. Outside, the workmen were loading Sonia’s boxes into their truck. One of them said something, and their laughter rose and fell. They closed up the trailer and bolted the door.
“She moved out,” I said, testing the weight of the words. I couldn’t square them with the lump in my throat. I was choking on loneliness—how could Sonia move on, just let go of everything? Let go of Jack? I couldn’t see myself leaving Ona, or even Lock. Not now, not six months from now. They were home to me now, all I had of the Dirt.
I took out my phone and searched for Sonia’s contact. It was gone, moved on with her.
I knew I’d never see her again.
Chapter Thirteen
I didn’t see Ona the day Sonia moved out. She texted me around dinner time, a blurry picture of a restaurant menu, then again an hour later, a string of question marks. I texted back “what?”, but she didn’t respond. I fell asleep on the couch waiting for her and woke to Lock tucking me in. My cheek stuck to the cushion as I raised myself on one elbow.
“Mm? Wass’time?”
“Shh. Go back to sleep.”
I blinked, heavy-lidded. “Is Ona home?”
“No. She went clubbing. Said she’d be back late.” Lock slid a pillow under my head. I sank into it with a groan, and next thing I knew, the sun was rising. Ona’s door was still open, her bed untouched.
I went downstairs to wait for her. The birds huddled together on their perch to watch me wait. They seemed annoyed by my presence, dipping their black little heads to whisper their disdain. One of them shook itself, scattering dust. I turned my back on them—let them gossip.
Ona drifted in around ten, scruffy and barefoot, shoes dangling from her fingers. She caught sight of me and smiled.
“Waiting for me?”
“No kidding—where were you?” I planted my hands on my hips.
“Out dancing. I invited you. Why didn’t you come?”
“Invited me? You never invited me. When’d you—”
“I texted you,” said Ona. She held up her phone. “You were s’posed to meet me for dinner. I sent you a picture and everything, in case you couldn’t read the map.”
“What, that menu thing? What map?”
“The attachment. You gotta click it. It’s that paperclip thing.”
“And I’m supposed to know that?” I buried my hands in my hair. “I thought you bumped your phone, or something. Why couldn’t you just invite me, like ‘Hey, I’m eating. Wanna join?’ Or, hey—speaking of invites. How about that Decemite ball? When were you going to tell me about that?”
“Are you mad at me?” Ona’s eyes went round. “I just hate typing, is all. They put the letters out of order. And as far as the ball goes...” She looked me up and down, taking in my fuzzy pajama bottoms, my oversized hoodie poncho. “I didn’t think it’d be your thing.”
I huffed, frustrated. Ona wasn’t wrong. The ball held no interest for me beyond its venue, but admitting as much felt like defeat.
“I’ve barely seen you all week,” I said. “You’re always shopping, or you’re—” My phone chirped. So did Ona’s. She reached for hers, and I saw red. “Really? You’re blowing me off mid-sentence?”
“I’m not blowing you off. I’m just checking, in case—”
“Check it later. Nine times out of ten, it’s an ad, or one of those shop coupon things. It’ll still be there later, or—”
“It’s Elli.” Ona’s eyes lit up. “She’s taking us shopping for the ball.” She jumped up and down, shoes swinging wildly. “We can grab lunch after, you and me. Or you can draw me in my dress. I’ve seen you with that sketchbook, all—”
“Are you serious?”
“What?” Ona’s lips gathered into a pout. “Please, please don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Ruin this for me. Just—just... Just let me enjoy this. We only get one ball, just for us. You can make fun of me later, but today, just for now, can’t you pretend—?” Her voice had gone reedy, like a kid begging for sweets. I wanted to smack her. I sighed instead, and felt myself deflate.
“All right,” I said. “When’s Elli picking us up?”
“She’s meeting us in an hour, at Golden Square.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Some store?” Ona shrugged. “She said take the eight train, and it’ll drop us right there.”
I went upstairs and showered, and by the time I was done, Lock and Ona were waiting. We made our way to the station and the train whisked us away, past the library and Lazrad Corp, to a great glass-fronted palace. We flew through its gates and the train came to a stop, depositing us on a platform curtained off by a waterfall. Emerging from the spray, we found ourselves in an immense indoor shopping district, floor after floor of restaurants and boutiques, gyms, salons, and cinemas—anything you could want, all under one roof.
“This is Golden Square?” I peeled my jaw off the floor. “I don’t get it. They have all of downtown. Why would they—”
“Hi-ho! Over here.”
I spotted Elli under an oak tree growing incongruously through the floor, its branches hung with billboards. She beckoned us over, all smiles.
“I thought we’d start with your outfits, then move on to manicures. You’ll need those touched up closer to the time, but it’ll be fun trying some colors, and then we can—”
“Manicures?” Lock’s horrified whisper tickled my ear. “I’ve seen how they do those, all those tiny drills and sanders.” He tucked his hands behind his back.
“What’s the matter? Scared?”
“Yeah. Hold me?”
I stifled a snort. Elli fixed me with a stern look.
“Did I say something amusing?”
I smirked. “Lock’s scared of nail scissors.” His elbow shot out, jabbing me in the ribs.
“Traitor,” he hissed. Elli frowned. I elbowed Lock harder, and we jostled back and forth till we were both holding our sides.
“All right. Got that out of your systems?” Elli spun around smartly, showing us her back. “Follow me.”
We pattered after her like ducklings, up a sleek moving staircase to a brightly-lit showroom. Mannequins danced on pedestals, skirts starched and suspended in improbable forms. One wall was lined with shoes, another with purses. I saw hats and hairpins, cases sparkling with jewels.
“Your ball attire’s paid for, so don’t worry about the price tags.” Elli moved between the racks, selecting items seemingly at random. “I’ll pick a few looks for each of you, but feel free to browse.”
I turned to Lock. He was wiping his hands on his pants, palms whooshing on the denim.
“What are you doing?”
“Wiping my hands. Feels like…I don’t know. Like I’ve brought the Dirt with me, and I’m gonna get it all over everything.”
“Myla! How about this one?” Ona held up a red dress, smooth down the front, ruffled down one side. She pulled up the skirt to show off the petticoats, layer after layer of them, like a carnation.
“Definitely your color,” I said.
“No, for you.” She held it up to my body and turned me to face the mirror. “Don’t you love how it brings out your eyes?”
I scanned my reflection, trying to see what she saw. My eyes just looked normal to me, flat and Dirt-brown. The dress was too stiff, shiny instead of soft, and narrow across the hips.
“I’m not sure I could sit in that.”
“You won’t be sitting. You’ll be dancing.” Ona spun around, the dress trailing behind her. “You’ll be gorgeous. You’ve got to try it on.”
“Okay. Give it here.” I reached for the dress, more for Ona’s sake than mine. She didn’t let go of it, and I frowned. “Ona?”
