“Lo viz. Ajebria v’ja, Quol Aasim… e maca,” her mother says, helping him peel off the soiled clothes stuck to his arms. Whatever she said, he doesn’t like, because he gives Bri a look of disapproval. White bandages dotted with red spots wrap around three of his fingers. And what looks like burn marks mar his forearms. The clothes tug at his skin, but he doesn’t wince.
“Did the monster keep terrorizing the people?” I ask, and he studies me a moment.
“No,” he says, untying the robes cinched at his neck.
Sounds more like victory in sacrifice. He wanted to kill the monster and make a name for himself.… I mean, we still talking about him, ain’t we? I’d say he succeeded on both fronts. But I keep my mouth shut.
“Quinto.” Bri winks. “Your new nickname.” She laughs. “Daring.” She makes a dramatic gesture with her hands. “Fearless Rue.”
I laugh at her teasing, but squirm when I find Bri’s father’s gaze fixed on me. Her mother takes his outer robes, leaving him in a soot-covered shirt and stained pants. She moves around the kitchen and in minutes there are drinks in our hands.
Water. I gulp it down and the wooziness I’d been feeling since the car wreck is finally almost unnoticeable.
“Thanks,” I say, but instead of, “You’re welcome,” she whispers to her husband.
“Let’s go in the room,” Bri pulls me by the arm.
“Bri.” Her father gestures at the table, his tone laced with irritation. “Kwi lithia a’si swera.” He brandishes his hands and Bri’s mom looks like she’s sweating bricks. “Swera. Swera.”
Swera? Trash?
“Sorry, Dad.” Bri grabs an armful of metal contraptions from the center table and takes them with us into the bedroom.
“I wish she spent more time refining her magic than making those useless—” The door creaks closed, drowning out her father’s words.
“Hey.” I set my hand on hers. “Your contraptions are not trash. You’re brilliant, Bri.”
She covers my hand with hers. “It’s fine. And I’m sorry about them.”
“Hey, I didn’t understand half of what she was saying, so I’m good. Are you good?”
“I’m fine. That stuff doesn’t make any money, so it’s useless as far as they’re concerned. I get it. And Dad’s always extra stressed when he gets home from the mines anyway. It takes a lot out of him, and seeing my junk everywhere doesn’t help. I should have known better.” She dumps her gadgets in a pile in the corner.
I want to tell her to tell her dad where to stick it, but that’s not Bri. She walks the line. Her bits of defiance, like making my watch, are always undercover. I want to tell her to be as bold as her inventions around her parents and in the world—to be who she is, who I see in her. But that’s easier said than done. I shove all the very imperfect things I want to say back down in case they come out wrong or aren’t sensitive enough, and I just throw an arm around her instead.
“My mom hasn’t been back to the mines since she hurt her foot. But she earned a good bit of coin with her last tapestry, so that’ll cheer him,” she says perking up. “But enough about me. Tell me all about Tasha! What happened?”
“Oh man, where do I start?”
A pound at the door startles us as it flies open.
“In here, Bri. Come.” Her dad’s face has changed, his features softer, more… submissive.
Bri’s brothers apparently got home from lessons at the same time that Aasim arrived. Great. Just effing great. Bri’s father pulls his family in tight beside him, dusting off his boys’ hair and making them stand up straight.
“Ruler Aasim,” Bri’s father says, “I just want to assure you we had nothing to do with any trouble that may have been—”
“It’s fine.” Aasim waves a hand. “I’m not here to get anyone in trouble. I just came to get Rue. I figured she’d be with Bri. When are these two not together?” He says it like he knows me, knows my friends. Bri’s father’s shoulders relax.
“Rue?” Aasim adjusts the lapel of his charcoal tailored suit, his peppered pencil-thin dreads tucked neatly behind his back.
I look away from him for a couple of beats. Intentionally. “Aasim.”
“I have to take you in. Chancellor’s waiting. It’ll be easier that way. Trust me.”
Trust him? I cut Bri a look and she mouths, “I’m sorry.” I saved my sister’s life today. Nobody needs to apologize for that. I smile back and wink to try to assure her everything’s going to be okay, even though I have no idea how. I have to make them see I had no choice.
Aasim thanks Bri’s family and turns toward the door.
“I did what I had to do,” I say, pushing past him. “And I’d do it again.”
CHAPTER 6
THE JOURNEY BACK TO the Central District takes forever. Thankfully, Aasim doesn’t try talking to me. I can tell he wants to. He keeps opening his mouth, then shutting it. Hoping the trend continues.
I don’t know what the Chancellor’s going to make of what I did. But I’ll make him understand. And if he doesn’t, I’ll bear the consequence. I saved Tasha’s life.
Patrol meets us at the building entrance. Stone pillars tower on either side of the guards, making them somehow seem taller.
“Ruler Aasim, you’ve found her. I can take her from here, sir.”
“I’m handling it,” Aasim says, pushing past him and gesturing for me to follow.
“But sir, I have strict orders to—”
“And I’ve changed them.” Aasim’s nostrils flare, the same way I imagine mine do. “Dismissed.”
The Patrolman walks off muttering something under his breath. Inside the lobby, guards line the corridor. Ten? Twelve? I can’t keep count.
“I’ll get her booked.” Aasim waves off the two uniforms at my back. Booked? Like a criminal? It was just one “offense.”
He swirls one hand around the other and a frosted cup appears. “Drink more water. It’ll help.” He walks off and I follow. Annoyed, I take a sip and the dregs of my wooziness abate. Glass elevators float at the end of the hall, bobbing up and down.
“After you.” He steps aside and I roll my eyes. The moment the doors shut us inside, he turns to me. “Tell me who you touched.”
What about my face says talk to me? “I did what I had to do. Your people have to be able to understand that. They have loved ones too.”
“I couldn’t risk anyone overhearing me on the way here. But in here it’s just us. Listen to me, Rue.” He rests a palm on my shoulder. “Ghizon is not like your world. They don’t value human life the same.”
And you’re one of them. That why Moms died back home and you ain’t do shit? I pull away and put my earbuds in. I’m not trusting him to help me. I’ll figure this out myself. My flattened cheeks are heavy as the glass box whisks upward through the levels. He pulls my music out of my ear. He’s lost his mind, clearly.
“Don’t touch my—”
“Rue, please, there isn’t much time. If you tell me I can try to figure out a way to help them.”