It isn’t a bad job. Tai-ge’s family put me there, and I’m grateful. Better than anyone connected to my mother deserves. But when Comrade Hong was presented with the honor of rehabilitating such a high-profile traitor, she wasn’t willing to have me track welding dust into the house or cough linen fibers from the textile mills onto her clean dishes.
There’s a line at the gate now, each of the workers undergoing a quick inspection by a set of Watchmen before they are allowed to leave. There have never been Watchmen guarding the People’s Gate before.
My hand, thrust deep inside my coat pocket against the cold, closes around something hard. My attention on the gate, I don’t look down to see what it is, vaguely remembering that Dr. Yang shoved something into my pocket while we were underground.
The Reds pull the woman at the front of the line aside, the flash of four stars at her shoulder sending pulses of alarm up and down my throat. When I finally glance down at the object in my hand, I gasp and throw it away from me with a hiss. A single red star.
I crouch down to look at them, lying on the street. So harmless-looking. Dr. Yang is deluding himself if he thinks I can run around wearing these when a single glance at my hand, or a glimpse of the birthmark on my cheek, would have me on the ground with my elbows tied together before I could even say hello. My fingers close around them, and I stuff them back in my pocket before the workers in line at the gate have the chance to notice.
The setting sun drags shadows long across the narrow streets, all the way to the orphanage’s peaked roof, which I can see just over the wall. Was this really Dr. Yang’s plan, depositing me in the First Quarter and hoping I might be able to sneak past the tide of Watchmen searching for me in the lower quarters? How can I get back to where I’m supposed to be? And if I disappear, the Hongs, the Outside patrollers, the bloody Chairman himself will think I really was responsible for that bomb. My days of waiting for the ax to fall will dwindle down to single digits.
Across the street from me, a crumbling dragon guards the entrance to a First home. His forelegs stretch around the lintel, but each of his clawed paws are cut off with a deep cross chiseled into the stone, ending in a gray crumble.
The statue’s mangled paws grasp at my mind, a thrill of fear dancing down my spine. If I miss my dose of Mantis tonight, it won’t matter what the Chairman thinks I did. I might not make it through the night. The family that lives here might not either. The entire block could be dead in their beds by morning.
The red star comes back out of my pocket. I can’t think of another way. This must have been what Dr. Yang meant for me to do.
I pin the star to my coat with shaking hands and take a step toward the gate, but a hand grabs my shoulder and tugs me back. I gasp in pain as my ribs seem to grate against each other. The Da’ard must have completely worn off by now. The person gripping my shoulder wears a dark woolen coat, thick hood casting shadows over his face in the failing light. A red star sits on his shoulder, snarling at me like a snake.
“What do you think you are doing?” I whisper, trying to keep my voice from the guards.
He waves to the Watchmen lounging by the wall. “If you try to go through the gate, they will arrest you.”
Fighting the gentle pull of his hand toward the alleyway, I stand straight as Dr. Yang advised, my voice taught with a First’s impatience. “I have an important errand to run in the City Center, and if I don’t . . .”
The boy glances back at me, and I catch a glimpse of white teeth in what I think is a smile. “Don’t kid yourself, Jiang Sev. I wouldn’t be surprised if all the Watchmen in the City are out looking for you right now. They don’t go by halves when it comes to dangerous fugitives. Dr. Yang sent word for me to meet you. The situation up here has escalated.”
My stomach twists when he says my name paired with Dr. Yang’s. If this First isn’t arresting me for wearing a single star—for even being in the First Quarter—then I’m not sure I want to be walking with him. “Dangerous fugitives? I’m sixteen. I’ve lived in an orphanage helping encephalitis lethargica patients for the last eight years. I am the prime example of what the reeducation campaign is doing for Fourths. The Hongs are teaching me what it means to be a part of a real family. I work at a canning factory every single day to support the war effort.” I jerk my hand out of his to show him my chapped fingers. They look much more impressively worn with all the extra scrapes and slivers left over from the bridge. “That all screams ‘loyal comrade’ to me. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Tell that to the Watch.” He looks up the street, where an elderly couple is ambling toward us, hand in hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before someone decides that two people running around with their hoods up look suspicious.” He leads me into a side street and produces a hat and a scarf. “Put these on. It’s cold.”
“You think a scarf covering half of my face is less conspicuous than a hood? With a manhunt on?” I twitch my hood back and pull the hat down low on my forehead, then wrap the scarf a few times around my neck, tucking the last loop up around my chin. My hair is tight against my cheek, hiding the birthmark.
“Womanhunt. If anyone walks by or tries to talk to us, we’re a couple out for a walk, understand? Follow my lead and try not to say anything.” He pulls back his hood. Somehow, I’m not surprised to see the young man from the library. He inspects the scarf and the hat, one hand hovering next to my cheek where my hair hides the mark. “Don’t worry. I won’t kiss you or anything.”
“What?”
As an answer, he yanks me back into the street and sets a very slow pace. A stroll, like the older couple just passing us. The man gives my companion a knowing smile as we emerge from the alley and stops. “I thought that was you, Yi-lai. Care to introduce me to your friend? I don’t think we’ve met.”
Yi-lai’s lips part in a grin and he says, “Of course. Premier Sutan, meet Wenli. Her family just came back in after a round overseeing the farm at Lunzi.”
“Oh, the Outside farms. I’m so glad I’ve outgrown having to take my turn overseeing our operations out there. We need the food, and those Seconds and Thirds need First oversight, but just being Outside . . .” The Premier gives a theatrical shiver and looks at me as if expecting me to say something. When I don’t, he smiles again and says, “How do you like being back in civilized company, Wenli? What are your parents’ names? If they are working with the propaganda team, I’ve probably already met them.”
“Um, no.” I manage to choke the two words out from behind my scarf. “They’re scientists. Working on biogenetic weapons. Our name is . . . Chen,” I say, picking one of the most common names in the City. I hope he takes the stumble as a sign of nervousness. It isn’t every day you meet any member of the First Circle, much less the City Premier.
“With General Hong? If I come across your parents, I’ll tell them what a beautiful girl you are. Smart, too. You have good taste.” He laughs and winks at Yi-lai. “Tell your father hello for me, son.”
“Yes, sir.” Yi-lai makes his nod almost a bow.
“Oh, and I heard something from the Watch an hour or so ago.” He puts a hand on Yi-lai’s shoulder, his voice a shade quieter. “Take your friend home. The Jiang girl is making some kind of trouble down in the Third Quarter. I doubt she would try to come all the way up here, but there’s no sense in taking the risk. Not with the family’s history.” He pats Yi-lai’s shoulder, his eyes already wandering away. “I’ll have to go talk to the General. He must be so disappointed. After all the years they invested in that girl . . . a spy and a murderer, just like her mother. But don’t you two worry. The Watch will have her up on the Arch with her eyes closed next to Jiang Gui-hua before you can say ‘Sleeping Sickness.’ ”
Every word drills holes into my chest, and my breaths begin to come out as sharp bursts of fog in the frozen air. Yi-lai’s grip on my arm tightens, as if he’s worried I might lash out and hit the Premier. But the Premier takes his wife’s arm and nods to both of us befo
re leading her down the street.
Yi-lai lets out all his breath at once, as though he’s been holding it the whole time. He pulls my arm through his and we walk linked together, moving up the Steppe, the highest section of the First Quarter in the City. “You okay?” he whispers.
“He . . . he doesn’t even . . .” I can’t make myself say more, waiting for the slow burn of anger to smolder down before trusting my voice.
“Yeah, he’s sort of a miserable old bag, isn’t he?” Yi-lai gives me a cautious, concerned sort of look when I don’t answer, but doesn’t attempt any more discussion as we climb higher into the First Quarter, where all the scientists and the First Circle live. Lights bloom all around us in the dusk, street lamps lighting our way up the hill toward the massive homes. Massive like the library, tiered hip-and-gable roofs peek up over the walls surrounding each First family compound.
When my voice doesn’t feel as though using it will break glass, I finally end the silence between us. “You’re quite chummy with the Premier, aren’t you? Members of the First Circle don’t stop for just anyone.” I grip the stolen red star on my collar, the points like a knife on my palm. “Yi-lai, right? Now that we’re involved, would you like to tell me a little more about yourself? And maybe why you’re helping me, especially now that I’m suddenly a murderer and a spy instead of an annoying little Fourth?”
The stressed look is back on Yi-lai’s face, and he doesn’t seem to be listening very closely, concentrating instead on the paving stones under our feet. The quick pace he’s set is becoming more and more difficult as my ribs grind against each other. “Would you mind slowing down, at least? I’m kind of broken. It’ll be harder to keep up the act if I start crying or something.”
He immediately slows a little, but not enough. “Not scared, are you?” he asks.
“Scared out of my mind, and no, that is not meant to be a joke.”
“Why would that be a joke?”
“It’s sundown.”
He looks blank. “Are you scared of the dark?”
“Um . . .” I’m starting to feel eyes on me, peering over the walls of each home we pass. “I have to take Mantis at daybreak and nightfall or . . .”
Yi-lai stops our speed walk up the hill and looks me dead in the eyes. “I didn’t even think about that. What are we going to do?”
“Well, if I start to go funny, you could probably take me. I have two broken ribs. And I think you’ve got me on reach.” I stretch one arm out as if to compare, but a wave of nausea and pain washes up from my ribs at the movement, forcing me to carefully arrange it back by my side.
“Are you listening to yourself?” He laughs in disbelief. “Your head is on the line and . . .”
“Yours too. In more ways than one at the moment,” I say.
Yi-lai shakes his head. “I’m just surprised. If the Watch ever comes after me, you won’t find me cracking jokes.” Pursing his lips, he says, “We probably have Mantis in the house, but I don’t know where. We’ll find it.”
“You aren’t infected, I’m guessing?” He shakes his head and we continue to walk, passing homes that seem to be getting more and more ornate, the lights glowing out from the windows with warmth. Something about his outline seems familiar, every house we pass washing his features with lamplight. His eyes and mouth especially send a sting of recognition across the back of my mind.
Wait.
I stop, my mouth clenching shut. He doesn’t break stride, giving me a questioning tug when I don’t follow.
I know where I’ve seen him. Yi-lai sits in the huge painting set opposite Traitor’s Arch in the City Center. Yi-lai and his father, the Chairman. The words come out in a strangled whisper. “You’re the Chairman’s son.”
He doesn’t quite meet my eye, pulling my arm a bit harder in an effort to start me walking again.
“You are. Sun Yi-lai. I knew I’d heard that name.” The Chairman’s family is almost the stuff of legend, like gods from Before living up above us in a flare of glory, hardly ever finding it necessary to show their faces. I put a hand to my forehead, nausea blooming in my stomach like an acid bouquet. “Why did you keep me back from those Seconds at the gate? Is the Chairman going to put me back to Sleep? Like her?” I pull away from him, glaring. “I didn’t do it! I didn’t have anything to do with bombs or with SS or anything that happened—”
“I want to help you.” He squares off, looking down at me. “But I won’t be able to do it if the Reds hear you yelling.”
I blink at his use of the Seconds’ nickname. I didn’t know Firsts called them that too. “Why, then? Why in Yuan’s name would you help me?”
He looks at the ground. “You look just like her. Your face, anyway.”
Goose bumps prickle down my arms.
“I didn’t ask how you recognized me,” I hiss. “I asked why you’re dragging me from the library, one of two places guaranteed to land just about any non-First comrade in a prison cell, to the other: the top of the Steppe.”
“Look, Sev.” He grabs my hand again, and we start walking. “I know you didn’t blow up the Aihu Bridge.”
“That isn’t an answer, or even logical. Where are you taking me? How am I supposed to just blindly follow you?” And what does she have to do with it?
He shrugs. “Where else can you go?”
CHAPTER 6
THE CHAIRMAN’S BASEMENT WINE CELLAR is cramped. It seems as if it should all glow with mystery and a special sort of grandeur, but mostly it’s just dusty. A wine rack takes up two walls, the corked mouths forming patterns in the dark wood. The air is cool and slightly damp, making me feel as though I need to change my clothes. No windows. One tiny door that leads into the deepest, darkest corner of the basement. One sputtering bare bulb that illuminates the last bits of dust clinging to my coat and hands. It all looks a bit boring to belong to someone who is supposed to be so wise, his ancestors ask him for advice.
The racks leave barely enough room for Yi-lai and me to sit across from each other, legs uncomfortably crossed. Now that I have time to look at him, Yi-lai is younger than I thought. Maybe two or three years older than I am. Too old for us to have been friends before Mother showed her true colors, though I probably wouldn’t have remembered anyway. The warm light of the bulb flickers across his face, hollowing out his high cheekbones and making him look underfed and gaunt. An odd contrast to broad shoulders and a muscular chest. When he notices me sizing him up, he smiles and opens his eyes extra wide. His eyelashes are so long they practically shadow the rest of his face. He’s handsome. And I’m pretty sure he knows it.
“So what do you think?”
“Of what?”
“Do I pass muster? Or are you trying to decide if you can get away if this turns bad?”
“From you? Easily.” I mimic his careless tone. “All I have to do is yell that someone is kidnapping the Chairman’s son, and I’ll be right back where I started. What are you going to do when the Reds storm in? Think we can take them?”
He narrows his eyes, evaluating me from cracked leather boots to messy hair. “Hard to tell. You look pretty skinny under all those layers. But you did grow up in an orphanage with a bunch of infected, so you have to be at least a bit tougher than you seem.”
I laugh, tension lifting a bit from my shoulders. I am a little skinny. But he’s right: I’ve had my share of fights. Unfortunately, experience with compulsing ten-year-olds doesn’t exactly match up to facing down a Second with his gun jammed against your forehead.
“So, what exactly is your plan? We can’t hide down here forever. I mean, it is a very nice basement.” I make a show of looking around. “But I don’t drink.”
Yi-lai smiles. “Dr. Yang will get us out.”
“Oh, is he best friends with the Premier like you?” Dr. Yang was wearing three stars, and last I checked, the First Circle didn’t take advice from that quarter. “What’s he going to do, empty the Chairman’s wine cellar down their throats until they don’t remember anythin
g about a bomb?”
“I meant he’ll get us out of the City. No wine necessary. Much less expensive.”
“Are you serious?” I jump up, hitting a few bottles on the way. “Out of the City? That is not . . . ! You see this?” I thrust my branded hand in his face. “This isn’t mine. It is my mother’s. I am not a traitor, and I am not going to Kamar! How could the Chairman’s own son get mixed up in—”
“No one said anything about Kamar,” he answers, not seeming very concerned that my fist is only inches from his nose.
“Who is Dr. Yang? How did he corrupt you into working for Kamar?”
“There is no Kamar, Sev.” Yi-lai smiles that infuriating smile again. Like I should just shut up and believe that the war we’ve all been fighting for the last eight years was a bad dream. “It’s a ghost. The country that invaded back during the Influenza War fell to pieces when SS spread, just like everyone else Outside. The First Circle just keeps up the lie.”
“What do you mean, a lie? The bomb everyone is blaming me for came from a Kamari heli-plane. I saw it. And I work night and day to feed the Liberation Army. It might not pinch up here, but down in the factories we have to sacrifice a lot to support the war.”
“Calm down. Dr. Yang will explain everything. Just wait.”
I look at the tiny door that leads up to the main house, then back to Yi-lai. If I run now, will I be rabid by the time I get out there? Will they just shoot me down? I hunch against the wall, crossing my arms.
“Your father isn’t going to wonder where you’ve disappeared to? Or get thirsty?” I look up at the wine bottles.
Yi-lai’s smile is more a grimace. “He’s out with the Reds. Waiting for them to find you so he can pronounce the City safe again.”
I look back down, not sure how to respond to that. The silence begins to itch. Maybe a deep, dark cell under the City and an execution sentence would be better than sitting here waiting for a Kamari spy—or whatever Dr. Yang is—to show up. At least then I would know what to expect.
Last Star Burning Page 6
