He frowns. “Sometimes, your being a mind reader isn’t very fun.”
I laugh and nudge him in the side. “I didn’t know because of my gift—I’ve read your files. But I could’ve guessed Jay wasn’t your original name anyway. Lots of Nytes change their first names when they pick up and move somewhere else.” Changing your last name is almost impossible, though. The sectors like to keep track of Nytes’ movements through them. “Fiona used to be called ShinHye.”
“Really?”
“Yup. She changed it when she moved to this sector.”
“What about you? You’re originally from Sector Four, aren’t you? Did you change your name?”
“Yeah, but not by much. My name used to be Laurel.”
“What’s with that?” he asks with a laugh. “Since you prefer to go by Lai anyway, why didn’t you make that your name?”
My laughter dies in my throat. “I couldn’t completely get rid of the name my mom gave me.”
“Oh.”
“Isn’t it the same with you?” I ask, trying for a light tone. “You just shortened your name to the first letter, after all.”
He rubs the back of his neck with a soft laugh. “I never thought of it that way. When I chose this name, it was merely because I liked the sound of it.”
Just when I think he’s back to normal, his eyes lose their humor. “Public concern about the rebels is visibly lacking. A lot of people aren’t worried about them at all. You never hear civilians talking about a war that could potentially make them extinct.”
I’d noticed that as well. Their lack of concern is worrying. If they don’t care about an approaching war that could wipe them out, how are we supposed to make them care about the Order? “They think the idea of it is ridiculous,” I say. “Etioles outnumber Nytes by an outrageous amount. I don’t think they realize it only takes a single crack in the dome to kill them all in one go. They forget their dependence on it.” Luckily the military didn’t.
We turn down another street. “I’ve been wondering about that,” Jay says. “If the rebels’ goal truly is to kill all the Etioles, why haven’t they attacked the dome? Why pick off our scouts and supply troops like this? They’re only bringing down their own numbers by confronting us head-on.”
“Ellis doesn’t think like that. To attack the dome directly would be a meaningless victory for her. She might resort to it if she absolutely had to, but she wants to prove that Nytes are superior by beating Etioles definitively.”
“That’s…”
“It’s who she is.”
He sighs. And I suppose Lai would know better than anyone. “I don’t much care for this topic. Let’s not discuss the war for a change.”
I frown, trying to push the mental image of meeting Ellis in two days out of my mind. “Agreed.”
So we talk about music. The pieces we enjoy, the ones we want to play in the future. Neither of us mentions leaving for the meeting tomorrow.
Jay tells me about a more difficult piece he liked to play when he was younger but that he hasn’t been able to find in Central’s collection. “It was the one piece my tutor never corrected me on,” he says. “I played it for my father once and even he had nothing to critique.”
“Do you ever miss him?” I ask. “Your dad, I mean.”
“No. Not really.” Not anymore. “Do you ever miss your mother?”
“Every day.” The admission surprises me. Not only because I’m never this honest with anyone, but also because of what I said. I try not to think of Mom. I shouldn’t miss her—I haven’t seen her in near on a decade. And yet, somehow, I do.
When I look at Jay, I can’t read his expression. I forget he’s good at hiding his emotions when he wants to. I don’t lean in on his thoughts.
“If you could meet her again, would you?” he asks.
It’s a hard question. I don’t really remember much of my childhood spent with my mom. It’s more feelings than memories. I don’t know how Mom would react to me if she saw me now, either. She’d probably be disappointed to see the person I’ve become. But despite all that, I find that I do know the answer. “I would.”
Jay’s head tips back as he looks up at the glass cover of the dome far, far overhead. I can’t tell if he looks thoughtful or exhausted. “I’m jealous. I can’t even decide whether or not I ever want to meet my father again.” He pauses. “You know, he hasn’t contacted me once since I entered the military, even after I was put on this frontline team. He’s likely happy to be rid of me.”
“How could anyone be happy with you gone?” I realize too late how cheesy that sounds and inwardly cringe.
But luckily Jay seems to like cheesy. He smiles at me, that smile that fills his whole face and rarely makes an appearance. “Thanks, Lai.”
When he leans over to kiss me, I forget to be embarrassed.
27
LAI
THE COUNCIL, PREDICTABLY, did not change its mind.
When dawn breaks, all of Team One is gathered before the front gates of Central. Erik keeps shoving his hands in his pockets, only to take them out a few seconds later, then back in, then out, then in again. Jay is double-checking his pack for possibly the fourth time. Al is unexpectedly the calmest as she watches the slow foot traffic pass by on the other side of the gate. We still have yet to make up or even really speak to each other since our fight.
Anxiety roils in my stomach like spoiled milk. I’d managed to mostly hold it back these last few days, but now everything is too real. There’s no avoiding it.
When Austin walks down the path toward us, it’s possibly the hardest time I’ve ever had to not read the general’s mind. I definitely can’t read his expression.
He stops before all of us and we wait for him to speak. It takes a long time. “I’m sorry I couldn’t convince the Council to change its mind.”
It feels weird for Austin to be apologizing for anything, let alone something out of his hands.
“It isn’t your fault,” Jay says. “Our team was made to prevent a war. So we’re going to attempt to do just that.”
Al and I both nod in agreement, though I notice Erik’s attention is focused somewhere outside the gates. When we meet these rebels, will they recognize me like Devin did? Will I find out if I was actually one of them?
“Do everything in your power to return safely,” Austin says. He looks at everyone when he says this, but when his eyes land on me, I think I see something particularly painful there.
“We’ll try our best,” I say, because really, that’s all I can say.
* * *
Once we leave the military’s tunnels, the streets are quiet. Hardly anyone is out this early, and the people who are avoid us. We pass through the Gate without a problem. It isn’t until we’re about to board our bycs—four this time, finally—that I hear thoughts that are much, much closer than they should be.
I spin around as soon as I realize what’s going on. The others react to my movement, whipping out their weapons and shifting to defensive positions.
From around one of the many scattered boulders, four people step out to walk toward us. Four very familiar people.
“Fiona,” I say. “Paul, Peter, Syon. What are all of you doing here?”
“Can’t you tell?” Peter asks.
Seeing who it is, Jay lowers his blades. Al and Erik can tell they’re not enemies—especially the latter since he recognizes Peter—but since they don’t know my newly appeared friends, they don’t lower their guards.
“You’re not coming with us,” I say.
“You need help,” Fiona says. “You can’t go to this meeting with just the four of you—you’ll never make it out alive. And we’re not going to risk losing you or any of your friends if we can help it.”
She doesn’t mention what a devastating blow it would be to the Order. With two strangers here, none of them would mention our organization, and from the looks of Jay’s thoughts, he’s not about to, either.
“Lai,” Erik says slo
wly, making me tense. “Who are these people?”
“My friends.” I gesture to each of them as I say their names. “Fiona Seung. Syon. Paul Wood. Peter Wood.”
Paul gives a small nod to Erik, and to Al and Jay. “Sorry to introduce ourselves so suddenly like this. But we want to come along and help.”
“It’s too dangerous,” I say. Just imagining how much the Order would suffer if Fiona or Syon especially were lost, not to mention two of our captains on top of that, isn’t worth considering. It isn’t worth the risk. They should know that, and I remind them all through thought.
“There’s strength in numbers,” Fiona says. You think losing you would be better for the Order? “There’s a better chance of all of us escaping than your team alone.”
It shouldn’t be the four of you. The Order can’t afford to lose any of you. I glare at her, willing her to understand. Fiona is one of the three core leaders of the Order. Syon powers the entirety of Regail Hall. Paul and Peter are two of our most involved captains.
And they’re all my closest friends.
Is there such a thing as someone disposable? “We’re strong,” Fiona continues. “We won’t go down easily, and we can help you take on the rebels if it comes to it.”
Is there a reason you don’t want them to come? Erik think-asks from behind me. Do you not trust them?
I’m starting to get confused with all the conversations in my head and the one going on out loud.
No, I answer Erik. I just don’t want them to get hurt.
“I think it’s a good idea,” Al says when none of us have spoken aloud in some time.
Even without his gift’s help, Jay can sense my unwillingness to have them come along. But he’s also our leader, and he wants to raise our chances of survival as much as he can. “I hate to admit it, but we could use the help,” he says with a glance to me. I’m sorry.
I shake my head. I understand.
I turn back to the others. “Fine. But you all better survive.”
Peter grins his usual grin, completely inappropriate given the situation. “Well, of course.” His brother seems less confident, Fiona and Syon as outwardly unreadable as ever.
I jerk my thumb over my shoulder, toward the bycs. “Get on.”
Fiona jumps up behind me on my byc. Syon with Al, Paul with Jay, and Peter with Erik. We don’t waste any more time before kicking off and heading west.
The air is hot and dry despite it being so early in the day. Even the wind is sweltering.
“I can’t believe you did this,” I hiss to Fiona. “Risking so much of the Order’s leadership like this. You didn’t think it would be a good idea to at least talk about it beforehand?”
“We did,” Fiona says. “You just weren’t there. We knew you’d refuse if we brought it up, so we decided to just come and tell you in the moment. It worked out quite well.”
I grit my teeth. Last night was so busy between last-minute preparations, Jay’s idea for our own underground farm, and trying to meet with various people to sort things out that I didn’t get much of a chance to really talk with any of my friends. And I certainly didn’t have any reason to think I needed to go out of my way to read their minds when I already had so much to focus on.
“For the record,” Fiona says, “Trist wanted to come along as well, but we made him stay behind.”
“I’m so glad you could spare at least one of our leaders from this suicide mission,” I say as scathingly as I can.
She ignores me. “This is the most advantageous setup. No one is going to win against Syon, and my gift allows us a wider range of strategy well-suited to escape.”
“And the Woods?” I ask quietly. “You know their gifts aren’t suited for battle. We have no idea what kind of Nytes we’ll be up against. You shouldn’t have brought them.”
“I know,” Fiona says just as quietly. Her admission surprises me. She never admits she’s wrong about anything. “But they refused to stay behind. They were worried about you and the others.”
“And now I’m worried about them.” I sigh. Hesitate. “I’m worried about all of us.”
“I know.”
It takes physical effort to say the words, but I choke them out anyway. “Thank you, Fiona.”
This is one of those rare instances when I’m being serious, so Fiona doesn’t quip back at me. “You know we have your back, Lai.”
“I know.”
Fiona punches me lightly on the shoulder and I swerve the byc to try to throw her off. Unfortunately, her one-handed grip on me is tight.
“Nice try,” Fiona says. “But you’re going to have to do better than that.”
“Oh, don’t you worry,” I say. “The day is young.”
* * *
We ride until it’s too dark to safely continue. We took periodic breaks throughout the day, and switched riding partners a few times when Fiona and I had had more than enough of each other, but this is our first true break. As blistering as the air was with the sun up, the frigid cold descends quickly with the fading of the light.
A dead forest rises around us. Trees with blackened trunks and leafless branches soar so high overhead they seem to rival the dome’s height. Roots tangle across the dusty rock ground. A Feral keens in the distance, but Jay confirms it isn’t close enough for us to have to worry. Other than that and us, life is nonexistent.
Al uses her gift to start a smokeless fire while the rest of us set up camp in the somewhat concealed protection of the trees. Once everyone has finished, we all settle around the fire.
Erik and Paul are talking animatedly as they sit down next to each other, which I find surprising given that Erik never looks that happy talking to any living thing.
“I still can’t believe you haven’t tried painting,” Paul is saying. “Watercolor is the best.”
“I prefer more hands-on work,” Erik says. “Drawing is fun, too, but I do it so I can have a blueprint for what I want to make.”
Paul shakes his head. “That’s a shame. I have a feeling you’d really enjoy it.”
Peter, ever the jealous one, drops down beside his brother. “Found an art friend, have you?”
Paul lights up, and I can’t tell if it’s because he gets to talk about art or if it’s because his brother is close by again. They don’t usually go an entire day apart. “Yeah! Erik sketches and makes furniture and models.”
I raise an eyebrow at Paul’s use of Erik’s first name when they’ve known each other for all of one day, but Erik only shrugs in response.
What, he your type? I ask in his head.
Don’t be stupid, Erik thinks, but he’s clearly flustered. Someone has a crush. Besides, he’s already taken.
His brother isn’t.
They’re twins, not the same person.
Now I’m the one to shrug. I should’ve known gentle Paul the painter would be able to crack Erik’s shell. He has that way with people. Just like Luke. It’s probably why the two of them were best friends.
As the others fill in around the fire, Jay sits beside me. We catch each other’s eyes for a long moment, but there isn’t anything either of us actually wants to say. Just unease.
“Now that there are more of us, we should work out a strategy,” Jay says. “Why don’t we start with everyone’s gifts and strengths?”
Team One starts. Then Fiona, with her sword fighting and illusions. Syon—Fiona speaking in his stead—with his bow and arrows and ability to control pure energy. Paul and Peter, each with their daggers and abilities to look into the future and past, respectively.
Paul doesn’t mention the fact that he doesn’t use his gift, but that’s probably because he knows it isn’t something anyone would suggest using for a battle strategy. He’s very aware of his and Peter’s positions.
Nor do any of those among us in the Order mention our neutralizing power crystals. I absently check on mine to make sure it’s still there, hanging with Fiona’s and Syon’s crystals on a chain tucked under my shirt so they’re
in constant contact with me. Thinking about Gabriel’s last gift makes my heart heavy, especially when we might soon be facing him as an enemy. I wonder if he left together with Sara.
I still have trouble wrapping my mind around the idea that Gabriel turned on us, that he would have actually gone to join the rebels. I’ve tried my best to ignore it and shove the thought down the same way I do every emotion that gets in the way, but now it’s unavoidable. What will we do if we see him at that meeting tomorrow? Will we have to fight each other? My stomach drops.
I carry his crystal with me always in case of an emergency, but this is the first time I fully intend to use it on a mission. It draws too much attention normally, but this is do or die. I’m going to use everything I have to ensure we get out of this alive. Besides, I have to be careful with how I use the crystal. Gabriel’s gift might be limitless, but that doesn’t mean his crystals are. I can activate it for a short period, but then it needs time to recharge.
But telling the others about all of that now will only draw unnecessary suspicion to ourselves.
“We need a plan that doesn’t rely too heavily on assumed details, since we know next to nothing about what their numbers might be or what their abilities are,” I say.
“What if when we arrive, we use Seung’s illusions to make it look like there are more of us?” Erik asks. “We can throw them off.”
Fiona shakes her head. “My gift only affects vision. I can’t fake sounds, and they would notice the difference in footsteps and the number of people right away. Besides, they seem to have a Nyte or power crystals that neutralize others’ gifts. I doubt they’d even see it.”
“We won’t have time to scope out the landscape beforehand,” Jay murmurs. “And there’s a good chance I won’t be able to sense where any rebels are lying in wait. Or how many there are. They’ll have the advantage in terrain and surprise in numbers.”
“What if we split up?” Peter asks, putting his fingers together and pulling them apart. “Half of us meet the rebels, the other half sneaks around to attack the enemy from behind.”
A Soldier and a Liar Page 25
