by Lydia Kang
“I know. You have no reason to believe me, to trust me. Nothing. But I have to get away from Sean and Julian.” He rubs his still-raw wrist. The bracelet is so tight that the skin beneath hasn’t yet healed, and along the edges are red skin and scars in different stages of healing.
Cy’s floor comes up and we both exit, but I plant my feet. I can’t seem to leave Micah behind. I feel sorry for him, though my anger still simmers beneath it all.
“What are you proposing?” I ask him, arms crossed.
“I know you and Cy have ideas. I do too. And I know Avida much better than you do. I can tell you what won’t work, what’s already been tried. And I know Sean and Julian better too. You’re playing Julian really well, but it won’t last much longer.”
This may be a huge mistake, but . . . “I’ll talk to Cy about it,” I tell him.
Micah closes his eyes, exhaling. “Thanks, Zelia.”
I leave Micah behind and find Cy’s room, pausing outside, wondering exactly what he’ll think of Micah’s proposal. From behind the door, I hear a grunt, and a sigh of release. Is Élodie in there? I could walk right in, but I’m worried. Should I go in, or not?
This is Cy. Your Cy. You’ve risked your lives for each other. Open the freaking door.
I knock anyway.
“Élodie, I said I’d see you in the morning,” he answers, irritated.
I smile with relief. He’s alone after all! I wave my bracelet over the scanner embedded by the door, and it swishes neatly open.
“Cy! It’s me. I tried to catch up—”
My breath catches painfully in my throat. Cy is on the bed, hunched over and stiff. Rivulets of scarlet blood snake down his forearm, the drips caught on a white towel on the floor, like poppies on snow. He starts in alarm, and a small knife bounces on the carpet. Its sharp edge is blurry with blood.
“Oh my god!” I shriek.
Cy doesn’t answer me. He snatches the towel from the floor and hastily wipes off his arms. His skin smears with pink before the towel absorbs the evidence. Cy used to tattoo himself as punishment for what happened to Ana, as if he were responsible. But it didn’t occur to me that his habits hadn’t stopped, just taken another form. He hid this from me. Vaguely, I remember seeing faint pink lines on his skin before. How he’d rolled down his sleeves, hiding the last traces of his cutting.
“Why? Why are you doing this?”
“Come here,” he says, and offers me a hand. I take it, letting his fingers envelop mine. Cy’s other hand guides my waist so that I’m sitting on his lap. “Look at me. No, don’t turn away,” he commands, weaving gentleness and strength together irresistibly, something I haven’t witnessed since he told me that sacrificing himself was the only way to save Dyl. “I didn’t want you to worry about me.”
“But I could have helped you. You should have told—” My voice cracks and I swallow the rest of my words.
Cy sighs so deeply, I rock on his lap, almost tipping over. He catches me and we both fall sideways onto the bed, cradling each other. For a few minutes, we say nothing. He lets me cry. So this is what happens when you blend horrible and wonderful together.
Finally, the tears stop. I trace the rapidly fading marks on his arms, asking through my stuffy nose, “It hurts, doesn’t it?”
Cy says nothing, only nods into my hair. He begins to murmur into my ear, as if no one else in the world is allowed to hear.
“When I was in Aureus, they had me working constantly. Micah and Tegg took turns disciplining me, and it was . . . hard to keep it together. I missed you so much, I couldn’t handle it.
“Some people in Aureus seemed to be laughing at me at times, but I had no idea why until Élodie told me I was transmitting my thoughts to everyone—my most private thoughts. I tried to stop, but I had no idea how. And then once, I almost killed Tegg.”
“How?”
“I don’t know how. He was beating the crap out of me, and I just . . . I wanted to push him and hit him, but I could barely lift my arms. And then . . . he passed out. And Renn, and Wilbert. Their bodies went white, as if their circulation had been cut off everywhere. It was like Ana’s trait, but instead of tricking people’s nerves into feeling a soft touch, I tricked their bodies into massive vasocontriction. No blood supply to anything. Micah found us and managed to rush in to zap me. If he hadn’t, they would have died.”
“So that’s how you found out?”
“Yes. Élodie helped me train myself, to keep my trait contained. I don’t know how Ana does it, limiting her touch or words to specific people if she wants to.”
“I heard her talking once when she was with you,” I confess. “The same night I went to the junkyards. I could hear her too.”
“When Ana was tired, everyone could hear her speak.”
“So now you can contain it? After we found each other in the Deadlands, you never spoke into my head anymore. And then on the magtrain platform—”
“I’ll never forgive myself. I could have seriously injured you.”
“But you didn’t. It was an accident!”
“An accident that will never, ever happen again. I’ve been suppressing it for months now. Only when I’m really emotional, or lose my focus, do I let it slip.”
“So . . . it’s either all on or all off?”
“Yes.”
“And the cutting?” I say gently.
“It hurts so much, but it’s so liberating. The pain is something that’s mine, and only mine. I can control it and own it and it doesn’t hurt anyone but me. And afterward . . .” He closes his eyes and peace floods his face. “I’m calm and focused, in a way I can’t seem to get doing anything else. Like this megaton weight is off my body and there’s nothing left but clarity. It’s helped me control my trait too.”
“But all you’re doing is suppressing it. I could help you practice. Not squashing it down, but using your trait selectively, the way Ana does. This”—I squeeze his arm gently, where the recent cuts are now completely gone—“is not control.”
“It is. I don’t want to end up hurting you or someone else!”
“Then you’re going to have to try harder.”
Cy crumples against my squeezing hands. “I don’t know how. Not without a knife in my arm.”
I pull back. Because, crap. I don’t know how either.
There’s a knock at the door. Cy hides the bloody towel and opens the door, where Élodie stands, her mouth open at seeing us together.
“There’s an hour of free time before curfew,” she says. “I was checking on you.”
Cy reaches for her wrist and pulls her inside. Part of me doesn’t want to include her, but the better part of me says to be a grown-up. The better half I sometimes hate.
“Qu’est-ce qui se passe?” she asks Cy, taking off her sunglasses.
“We need you,” I tell her. When Élodie gives Cy a puzzled look, he explains rapidly in French. She frowns deeply.
“I don’t think that is a good idea. You could hurt someone. You could give away your thoughts. You’ll give your enemies a weapon.”
“Enemies? You mean the police, or Julian?” I ask.
“I mean everyone,” she says. She puts her hand on Cy. “We worked so hard to keep it under control. You probably shouldn’t have even used it in the Deadlands.”
“But that’s how I found you both!” I raise my hands up, disbelieving. “Cy has a gift and he needs to practice, so it won’t hurt him or anyone else.”
At this, Élodie’s eyes immediately drop to Cy’s forearms. The faintest pink line remains from his last cut and she sees it.
“You knew about his cutting, didn’t you?” I point at him.
Élodie crosses her arms. “Oui. I knew it. It was my idea.”
Oh, I’m going to kill her. I walk up to her with a barrage of cusses ready to fly, when Cy grabs my ar
m.
“Zel. This isn’t helping me. Let’s all take a few breaths, okay?”
It’s the right thing to say, because my necklace isn’t on and fury is pumping blood through my shallowly breathing lungs. I take several huge breaths, and the rage begins to soften.
“So what do we do?” he asks.
I wipe my hands on my tunic, as if I could rub away the distraction of Cy’s last kiss and the festering jealousy I have for Blink. “We work. All night, if we have to.”
“But curfew’s in less than an hour. Élodie will have to leave.”
I turn on my holo and ask for Julian. “Julian, I need another favor.”
Cy and Élodie nearly choke when they realize what I’m doing.
“Hi Zelia,” a voice answers, but it sounds limper than usual. “And it’s Sean. Julian is dead asleep.”
Everyone exhales in relief. “I need Élodie to have door access in Avida.”
“Why?”
“We need her to work on the elixir to make Julian sleep.”
There’s a wretched silence for a half minute, when I’m petrified that he’ll reject my request. Or worse, that Julian woke up. “Okay. I can’t guarantee it every night, though. Only when Julian’s asleep.”
“Thank you.” I shut the holo off. “Let’s start.”
We practice until we can barely keep our eyes open. Cy alternately tries to whisper words to me only, then to Blink. Hopefully everyone in Avida is asleep and won’t notice his muffled practicing.
Blink’s beautiful face is guardedly neutral. At least she’s not arguing with us over how this is a terrible idea. After almost a hundred tries, we make progress. He finally manages to whisper to me, and me only, the following words:
My toe itches
When Blink shakes her head, not hearing it, I squeal in delight.
“You did it! Does your toe really itch?”
“No,” he says with an exhausted but triumphant smile. “I was running out of things to say.”
“I am so tired.” Blink yawns like a cat.
“Me too. It’s almost three in the morning. Let’s go to sleep,” Cy says.
Blink doesn’t move, and it takes her a few seconds to realize that I’m not leaving. Cy walks her to the door, even though it’s only a five-step distance. They whisper a few words beyond my range. When Cy returns, he waits for the door to shut to scoop me into his arms. I giggle at the momentary weightlessness, and he unceremoniously plops me onto the bed. His hands start running over my clothes, searching my body with insistent impatience. My skin hides no secrets, radiating heat as I pull him closer.
“Cy,” I murmur, trying to nuzzle his neck.
“Whoop. Found it.” Cy triumphantly holds up my necklace.
“Pickpocket!” I accuse him. “Thief!”
He rolls me over and puts the necklace around my neck, watching my chest swell and fall regularly, with a clock’s precision. His eyes skip over my body. “Did you know you’re taller than last year?”
“No,” I admit. “Am I?”
His fingers trace over my arm, then belly and hip. “You’ve changed.” He pushes the edge of the fabric up to expose my stomach. “Your center of gravity is here.” His fingertips touch my shivering belly, between my hip bones. “Instead of here.” His hands skim upward to the area below my rib cage, letting his knuckles softly brush the underside of my breasts. “I can feel it when I pick you up.” He’s trying to be clinical about this, but the effect is anything but clinical. It takes all my strength to not pounce on him.
“I haven’t changed,” I whisper between regimented breaths. “It’s still me.”
“We’re both different.” He curls my body against his. “And the same too.”
We lie there on his bed, listening to our breath. I just want to keep Cy to myself like this, to not think of Avida, or Julian, or anybody for hours and hours. But I can’t. Not yet.
“Cy. I ran into Micah before I came here.” I tell him his proposal, how he wants to help us escape Avida. His desperation to get out. “I don’t trust him.”
“No, I don’t trust the bastard either. But I believe he wants to get out. He’s reached his ceiling of power in Avida. We’ve seen evidence of that already.” He thinks for a few minutes and says, “I think we should let him help. But once we’re outside of Avida, all alliances are off.”
I nod. It’s a tenuous decision, wrapped in uncertainty and Micah’s past betrayals. After several minutes, Cy’s breathing slows down and he falls asleep. But I can’t shut my mind off. My legs get antsy. I uncurl Cy’s hand from mine and head to the door. A walk in the garden alone will be just what I need to settle my brain.
The smell of the rose garden is a little too strong, so instead I head upstairs for the meadow. The flowers aren’t as cloying and the holo stars and sickle moon soothe me. I take my shoes off and walk barefoot in the soft grasses, when I hear a sound of sobbing. I stop, listening. It’s coming from one of the rooms surrounding the meadow. My bare feet take me from door to door until I find the room with the crying.
It’s Caliga’s. It’s probably not my business. I’m sure she wants to be alone. But then I remember Caliga’s trait.
She’s always alone.
I raise my bracelet to the door and it swishes open. Caliga’s on the floor by a wall, hugging her knees and rocking herself. When she sees me, she puts her head right back onto her knees. I wait for her to yell at me to leave, but the acid remark never materializes. So I sit down next to her and wait.
After a long silence, she whispers, “Julian says the vaccine against my trait will be done tomorrow.” There’s another silence, followed by a sob so acute, it brings tears to my eyes. “I don’t want Julian to touch me. I want . . . I want it to be Wilbert. Oh god, Zelia.” She starts weeping in earnest again, and my arms reflexively reach over and envelop her in a tight hug. She wraps her arms around me with a strength that takes my breath away, and I find myself crooning a quiet shhh and rocking her softly.
She lets me hold her until there are no more tears left and her spasming hiccups finally disappear. It must be dawn, but I don’t care. Finally, I release her and she wipes her eyes clumsily.
“Tell me about Wilbert,” I whisper. “Tell me how you met him.”
And so she does. From the first time they’d met in Aureus as pre-teens, to the barbed insults she’d hurl at him when he wouldn’t leave her alone, thinking he was mocking her. Until she finally understood that all he wanted was to listen. To give her the companionship that no one dared to offer.
“We fell in love. Even when SunAj joked that we’d never consummate the marriage, we didn’t care. He was the only person who loved me. For me. I love him so much, Zelia, you have no idea.” She shakes her head, and laughs a little. “Well, I guess you do.” She wipes her eyes again. “For a long time, I hated Aureus and your dad for creating me. But it brought me to Wilbert. He’s so sweet. You know, every day he’d risk getting sick just to kiss me.”
“There’s a joke in that statement, but I bet you’ve already heard it.”
Caliga bursts out with a genuine laugh. “You know I have.” She sobers and withdraws slightly. “SunAj didn’t like me. I had to prove that I was worth keeping and so did Wilbert. He betrayed everyone at Carus to ensure that he and I would stay safe in Aureus. He lied to you all, and stole your DNA for me.” She stares at me with her scarred eyes. “I am sorry, Zelia. I’m so sorry I hurt you,” she says, her tears flowing fresh.
“It’s all right, Caliga.” I put my arm around her shoulders and squeeze. “You are a prize bitch, but I totally forgive you.”
Caliga snorts and we laugh together in the darkness. We end up lying on her bed, holding hands as we sleep the last few hours before morning. Like I had in Carus, with Marka and Dyl. You’d think that Caliga was the only person benefitting from me being vaccinated. But my
hand holds on to hers just as tightly.
Our holos bleep at us at eight in the morning, so we sit up, bleary eyed and puffy faced. Caliga checks her bracelet.
“I’m on infirmary duty again,” she sighs. “It’s always a ghost town there.”
“I know, because the sick kids are locked away downstairs.” I clamp my hand over my mouth.
“What? Tell me, Zel!”
I can’t bear to keep the truth from her, so as she gets ready quickly, I tell her everything I know. About Micah, and the plan to get out, and the anti-Julian elixir.
“Well, if someone is going to poison him with that elixir,” she says, “it might as well be me. I’ll be close enough not to raise suspicion.”
“No, Caliga.” I shake my head. “No way!”
“Can you make it today? Please! Because if you can neutralize Julian, tonight would be the best time ever for that. Wilbert and I would owe you . . . everything.”
“I promise,” I say. “I’ll try to make it happen.” I embrace Caliga quickly and run to the door.
“Wait, where are you going?” she yells.
“I’ve got to make a miracle happen!” I holler back, before running to my room.
CHAPTER 21
I’M SO TIRED THAT DAY, I WEAR my necklace constantly. I take a precious few minutes to grab breakfast. I even make Cy practice his trait, by asking him to touch my cheek. It’s comical to see a half-dozen people wipe the fuzzy sensation away from their cheeks, until after a few swipes, they don’t.
“You’re making progress!” I half whisper, half squeal. Cy doesn’t smile but he’s hiding a glow beneath his cheeks. He sips his black coffee and leans closer.
“I was disappointed when I woke up and you weren’t in my bed.”
“I was with Caliga,” I explain.
“So you’ve already moved on, eh?”
I jab him in the ribs with my elbow. “It’s not like that.” I tell him about Caliga’s vaccine, and how we need to try to make the anti-Julian concoction. He shakes his head, eyeing Julian from across the long roof table.
