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.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. We. Relief was like a cool breeze stirring the still, humid air. I felt the muscles in my shoulders relaxing by degrees. No matter what was happening between him and Olivia, Oren was still my ally. Still my friend.
“We can go to him in the morning,” I suggested. “I’ll work out the details tonight.”
“I’ll help,” Oren said firmly. He started to move past me, leading the way out of the training cavern.
I had turned to follow when a thought struck me. “Oren— why do this? You could live here. You could be happy here.”
“Why do this?” Oren echoed. He paused, looking over his shoulder. “You’re asking me to.”
My throat closed, stomach lurching oddly.
“Besides,” he continued with a shrug. “I may not be your scout friend’s biggest fan, but I owe that little demon bug.”
I blinked. “Owe Nix? For what?”
Oren looked mildly surprised, his tone suggesting I should have guessed his answer. “It saved your life.”
CHAPTER 16
“This is absurd. She’s been here less than a week—why are we even listening to her?” Marco, the young man who had doubted me when I first arrived, slammed his hand down on the table in the War Room. “She’s going to get herself and her friend grabbed, and she’ll blow Wesley’s cover to boot. If she wants to throw her life away, that’s her business. But we need Wesley.”
I held my breath and hoped Oren would restrain himself. But I couldn’t spare him a glance, couldn’t afford to show signs of uncertainty or weakness. I was just a sixteen year-old girl facing down a room full of people older, smarter, and savvier than I was.
I expected Parker to defend me in his quiet way, remind Marco that I was the girl in the journal, the sister of the only boy who’d ever gotten close to Prometheus. But instead he was silent, expression troubled behind his beard. My heart started to sink even as my thoughts kicked into overdrive, trying to think of some new way to explain the idea, some way to convince them it was the right thing to do.
Instead, to my surprise, it was Wesley who spoke.
“I believe we ought to consider her proposal,” he said slowly. “She may not have been here long, but she and this young man survived alone in the wilderness for weeks. This one faced down a horde of Empty Ones with only a knife, and Lark turned away an entire army of machines.”
Parker spoke up, his expression still conflicted. “But the journal,” he protested. “We need her.”
“And this is what she’s gotten from it. That’s what you wanted, right? Some new information only she could decode? Parker, do you really think we can afford to ignore the strongest weapon we’ve found since the journal was discovered because we don’t have the guts to go through with anything?”
My mouth was dry, as though it had been stuffed with cotton. Being described as a weapon made me feel sick, lightheaded. But Wesley was the only one speaking out in favor of my plan, and I couldn’t afford to correct him. Besides, we needed him. I could hardly believe what I was hearing—if we failed, he stood the most to lose.
Wesley’s statement had silenced the room. The rest of them hadn’t heard more than the vaguest details about my escape from my city and what had happened at the Iron Wood. I’d only told Wesley because he demanded the full account to better understand my abilities. That I’d faced down an army and won was news to them. Even Marco went quiet, glancing at me and then dropping his gaze.
I cleared my throat, the sound harsh in the silence. “If it doesn’t work, you’re under no obligation to respond. If we can’t reach Prometheus, if Oren and I get caught, then we won’t expect you to come in after us. Wesley’s reputation will remain intact because he’ll have been the one who brought us in.”
“And what do you expect to do if you come face-to-face with Prometheus?” That was Parker, his expression still troubled.
I glanced at Wesley, who was inspecting the sleeve of his fantastical coat and plucking off bits of imaginary lint. Only he knew the real answer to that question: if there were no other options, then I would kill Prometheus.
Out loud I said only, “That’s where Oren comes into play. If you can neutralize his Eagles, according to Wesley, Prometheus’s protections are entirely magical. Oren will be armed, and the Eagles will have to contend with him and me together. Prometheus may be able to stop a Renewable like me from getting past his shields, but he won’t have anything to stop an iron knife. We can threaten him with that, force him to step down.”
Marco was breathing quickly through his nose. “He’ll have half a dozen Eagles at least around him at all times,” he said flatly. “You really think your pet savage can take on that many guards at once?”
I waited for Oren to explode, but instead he merely shifted his weight, hands in his pockets. “Would you like to try me and see?”
Marco swallowed, gaze shifting from Oren to Wesley, who shrugged as if to say, You got yourself into this, you’re on your own.
“Look,” he said finally, looking down at the table, “there’s a difference between being able to take me out and being able to take out all the Eagles plus Prometheus at once.”
“I can handle myself,” Oren said quietly.
“Then why do you need to go at all, Lark?” Parker asked, his eyes on me. “There’s still so much to learn from the journal, so much you could help us with.”
“I’m not my brother,” I said helplessly. “I don’t know machines the way he does. I’ve told you all I can. But I have to go. If they lock Oren up, he’ll need me to get him out. They won’t know I’m a Renewable, and they won’t necessarily take precautions.”
I avoided holding my breath just barely. This was the important part—they had to believe I could pass for normal the way Oren was. It didn’t matter that I had no intention of hiding that I had magic once I was inside the CeePo compound.
“They’ll figure it out quickly enough,” protested Parker. “All they’d need to do was use iron to disrupt your shields, your concentration, and—”
“Enough,” said Wesley, cutting through the rest of Parker’s words. “Lark, we’ve heard your plan, and unless you have anything you’d like to add . . . ?”
He raised an eyebrow at me. I knew he suspected that I was keeping something back. He’d spent enough time with me over the past few days to know that I didn’t always volunteer important information without being prompted. But if they knew I intended to go in blazing with my stolen magic like the worst-trained Renewable on the planet, they’d never allow it.
I shook my head.
Wesley waited half a breath longer, then nodded. “Then if you and Oren will leave us for a while, we’ll discuss this. Why don’t you go get something to eat?” he added. “Build up your reserves.”
He knew as well as I did that food no longer had any effect on my magic. When I needed power, I stole it. But no one else knew that, so I nodded, and Oren and I hurried out.
We headed for the mess hall and found it mostly empty. There were a few people there finishing off their breakfasts, and a few more cleaning tables, but we were able to secure a corner of the room for ourselves.
I picked at the peeling paint on the table we’d chosen, grimacing when it splintered and jabbed me under my fingernail.
“It’ll work,” Oren said, watching me.
I flicked the bit of paint away. “I know. But the question is, do they know that?”
“They all seem to listen to Wesley.”
That wasn’t necessarily a comfort. “I wish I knew why he’s behind this.”
Oren put his elbows on the table and hunched forward. “Why wouldn’t he be?”
I hesitated. Oren knew what I could do—he’d seen me open the lock on his cage, for one, and he was there when I’d killed the Eagle in the square. But we’d never really talked about it. He didn’t talk much about his inner demons, and he didn’t ask about mine.
“He’s the only one here who knows I’m . . . not really what the rest of them think I am.” Though the other people in the room were out of earshot, habit lowered my voice.
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