Our peace coalition of gifted and ungifted is sacred to me. I don’t want to bring two impulsive, mistrustful people—one who could decide to go to the rebels and another who indirectly caused the death of Paul, one of my oldest friends—to the Order just because we have nowhere else to go. But I also know it’s our only option. I won’t abandon my team, and there’s no other place for all of us. I just don’t want to face it yet.
“How many times have we had this conversation already?” Erik asks when no one says anything aloud. “Isn’t that why we decided to investigate the warehouses? We have nowhere to go, we’re notoriously wanted criminals, and there’s nothing we can do to fight against the rebels without drawing attention to ourselves and getting caught by the military. We’re stuck.”
“Everything’s going to be fine,” Jay says softly but firmly, in that way only he can, with words only he could say without anyone getting angry or arguing over them. “We just need a little time. Once the rebels make their next move, the military will have to shift their focus from finding us to countering them.”
He doesn’t mention the Order. He doesn’t say if Erik and Al wait just a little longer, we’ll be able to go somewhere we can actually work toward making a difference. Even though he doesn’t understand my hesitation, he doesn’t interfere with my decision.
That consideration is so like him. A well of gratitude surges in my chest and I send the telepathic message, Thank you. He smiles slightly but says nothing aloud.
“How long are we going to have to wait?” Al mutters. She sits with a thump and props her chin up on her fist, but her impatience from before has already blown away. Now she only looks tired. “The longer we just sit around here, the more damage the rebels can do.”
“I know,” Jay says. “Believe me, I know. But if we move too rashly, we’re just going to make more trouble for ourselves—and then we won’t be able to do anything at all. We’ll come up with something. We always do.”
Silence greets his words, and I can’t decide if it’s one of uneasiness or agreement. Either way, no one’s really satisfied.
“Lai’s in charge of breakfast, right?” Erik asks without looking at anyone. “Be sure not to burn anything this time.”
“Hey, that was once, and it was a mistake anyone could’ve made,” I say.
“Pretty sure you’re the only one who’s caught the food on fire, though,” Al mutters.
“Learning curve.”
She rolls her eyes.
Erik goes to the single mattress, pretty much signaling the end of the night’s conversation. “I’m going for a walk in the morning. I’ll pick up food on the way.”
“Be careful,” Jay says.
Erik waves a hand vaguely over his shoulder in response. He’s already lying facedown on the mattress. His thoughts are preoccupied with a multitude of things, and I don’t know whether or not I should say something to him. It feels like I should, but I have no idea what I could say.
Not that it matters. In another few moments, he’s out. He used his gift so much tonight, it’s little wonder he’s exhausted. I’ll have to think of something before he comes back from his walk in the morning and then try talking to him. I don’t like this feeling of growing distance.
I feel Jay’s eyes on me again, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. You can’t avoid this forever, Lai. Putting it off is only hurting us. I’m sorry.
Again, I don’t reply to Jay’s thoughts. I know he’s right. I know I need to do something. And the longer I put off telling Al and Erik about the Order, the angrier they’ll be when I finally do. But when I think about actually sitting them down and telling them everything, and then taking them to the Order, I can’t help but feel a little sick. Paul’s face flashes before my eyes—when we go back, I’ll have to face Regail Hall without his presence. His death is going to be so much more real.
I push down a threatening wave of grief and guilt—and anger. If Al hadn’t separated from us during that ambush to chase after her brother, we could’ve escaped. Paul would still be alive. And I can’t forgive her for that yet.
How am I supposed to share the most important thing in my life, something I would die for in a heartbeat, with someone who’s barely here mentally and someone whose actions led to the death of one of my oldest friends?
2
ERIK
BETWEEN BEING STUCK with people who’re driving me up the wall and annoying thoughts about the rebels, I don’t know which is gonna cave my head in first. Gods, what I wouldn’t give to go somewhere quiet and be alone. Just for a while.
Go where? a voice scoffs in the back of my head. You’re a wanted criminal, idiot.
A criminal even though I stuck around. A criminal even though I turned down the chance to join the rebels and find out more about the past I have no memories of. A criminal for choosing the “right” thing.
Screw this.
I stride through the streets like I’m any other normal Etiole and no one looks at me twice. So much for being wanted. So long as I don’t act guilty, no one’ll think I am. But I make the mistake of looking down a side alley and seeing some kid getting beaten up by a few middle-aged guys. From the ground, his arms make a weak shield as the men shower him with kicks. I wonder if he’s actually a Nyte or if the men just think he is. Not like it matters.
I flick my fingers and the men go flying back through the air. The kid blinks at them. Then he runs for it. I don’t go after him to ask if he’s okay. Being the hero isn’t really my thing. But after that, I keep my hat—found in this mystery apartment we’ve been staying in—drawn lower over my eyes.
This is why I hate going out into the city. At least in the military Nytes were left alone. Not treated as equals, but not beaten up. Not only because the army knew the gifted were saving their asses, but because anyone who tried to gang up on a trained gifted soldier was just going to end up in the infirmary. But out here in the city, the sector’s attitude toward Nytes has just gotten worse thanks to the rebel gifted.
The streets are quiet. After the rebels attacked the sector and declared war, it’s like people finally realized they were an actual threat. Took them long enough. Groups stand in doorways and talk quietly. Forced laughs mix with the shouts of the vendors going about their business. Eyes shift back and forth, searching. Everyone under the age of twenty keeps their head down. I guess even the ungifted kids have something to fear, since there are no obvious physical differences between Nytes and Etioles. It must be so hard for them, having to be afraid they’ll be accused of being gifted. I try not to think of the kid I saw taking all those kicks.
I weave through the thin crowds easily. Every time I turn a corner, my eyes automatically search for the easiest exit from whatever road I’m on. A side alley between two towering, ugly apartment buildings. An open gate to a shopping center. The walkways that cross back and forth overhead cast shadows down here—definitely helpful for hiding. The sky and dome beyond them are invisible through the spiderwebbing paths.
“What are we going to do if they attack the dome?” I overhear someone whisper. “If the glass breaks, the air Outside will kill us all.”