Girl of Glass, #1

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Girl of Glass, #1 Page 5

by Megan O'Russell


  She took a breath and tried again, pulling until pain shot through her shoulders. Panting, she let go of the door and staggered back a step.

  Go to Nightland, find Kieran. I have to find Kieran.

  “I have come too far to get turned back by a door.”

  Taking a deep breath, she stomped three times on the metal. The sound echoed through the empty street, and the noise from below changed.

  The music still thumped on, but the voices were different. Their tones loud and urgent.

  Nola jumped back as the metal door flew open with a clang that shook her ears. Four people leapt onto the sidewalk.

  Each of them held a weapon in their hand—a pipe, a sword, a staff, and a knife. The four glared at Nola. She took another step back, missed the curb and fell into the street.

  A woman with bright purple and scarlet-streaked hair stood over Nola, twirling a knife in her hand.

  “Such a pretty little thing to be knocking on our door.” The woman grinned.

  A dark-skinned man with scars dotting his skin stepped up next to her, digging his staff into the pavement next to Nola’s neck. “Did someone order dinner?” The man had fangs, like the one who had brought her here.

  “Bring her inside,” the man with the sword said.

  “Not worth the risk,” the man with the pipe said, staring at Nola with frightening hunger.

  “Then we kill her out here.” The woman raised her knife.

  “Kieran!” Nola shouted, covering her face, waiting for the blade to strike. Even if he heard her scream she would already be dead.

  “What did you say?” the woman said.

  “Kieran,” Nola said, uncovering her face. “I’m here to see Kieran Wynne.”

  “How do you know Kieran?” The woman lifted Nola to her feet by the collar of her coat.

  “F-from the domes,” Nola stammered.

  “But how did you find out about Nightland?” The man with the pipe sneered, showing his frighteningly white teeth.

  “He told me,” Nola said.

  The woman lifted her higher so her toes barely reached the ground.

  “He came to the Charity Center. He stole my I-Vent and left a note in my pocket. It said to find him at 5th and Nightland.”

  The woman let go of Nola’s collar, and she fell back onto the pavement, cracking her head against the stone.

  “You’re the one.” The man with the staff tilted his head from side to side as he stared at Nola. “If the boy wants her...” He shrugged.

  “Is Kieran alive?” Nola asked as the man with the sword lifted her to her feet and clamped a hand firmly around her arm.

  “If you don’t mind”—the man ignored Nola’s question. His tone and accent sounded strange, like he wasn’t from the city—“I would suggest you not try and run away. I’m sure it was quite a feat for you to make it here from the domes alone, but I promise, if you go off on your own, you won’t survive Nightland.”

  The man with the staff struck the metal door four times, pausing for a moment before repeating the four beats. The sound echoed through the streets. The Outer Guard would hear.

  They’ll save me.

  The door swung open, and the pounding rhythm of the music drifted up into the night. Kieran could be down there. Nola didn’t know if she wanted to be rescued by the Outer Guard or not.

  The man with the sword bowed, still keeping a grip on Nola’s arm as he gestured down the steps. “Welcome to Nightland.”

  Chapter Eight

  The metal stairs vibrated under Nola’s feet, but the music ate the sound of her steps.

  The woman with the scarlet and purple hair waited at the bottom, knife still drawn. Once all of them had descended below the street, two men appeared from the shadows and closed the door. It was thicker than Nola had realized. At least three inches of heavy metal, as thick as the doors to the outside in the atrium. But the two men lowered it back into place as if the weight were nothing and bolted the door shut.

  Nola’s heart raced.

  There’s no way out. I’m trapped underground.

  Even if there weren’t guards, she would never be able to lift that door.

  “If you please,” the sword man said, sliding his blade back into the sheath at his waist. The sword looked new, and its embossed leather sheath shone with fresh black polish.

  Who makes new swords and sheaths?

  The woman walked in front, leading them down another set of stairs. The music grew louder with each step, and flashing lights bounced across the landing below.

  Nola’s gasp was lost in the music as the room came into view. Hundreds of people in a seething mass, all moving to the same rhythm. Arches were carved into the walls of the room, some leading nowhere, some disappearing into darkness. The smell of sweat, metal, and dust permeated the air. It was different from the stench of the city. A scent as primal as the dancers, all swaying to the music, some alone, some wound tightly around their partners.

  The woman walked into the crowd, and the dancers parted, leaving a path as though frightened of the woman. A few of them stared at Nola, speaking loudly to their fellows, but Nola could only make out one word over the music: Domer.

  They drew near to the speakers, and the sound vibrated in Nola’s chest, sending her heart sprinting. She balled her fists tightly, letting her nails bite into her skin, willing herself not to panic. She could hear now that there were words in the music, but she couldn’t tell what they said.

  The woman turned left, heading toward an arch that was blocked off by another heavy metal door.

  A woman as tall as any man Nola had ever met stood beside the door, her arms crossed and her face set in a grimace. She nodded at the woman with the knife and opened the door. The scraping of the metal against the concrete floor cut through the music, slicing into Nola’s ears.

  As soon as they entered the dark passage, the door screeched shut behind them, dampening the music. Nola glanced back. Only the four who had been aboveground accompanied her now.

  The woman led on, and the man with the sword didn’t let go of her arm. Dim lights were set into the ceiling of the tunnel, leaving shadows for them to pass through every few steps.

  “What is this place?” Nola asked, half-choking on the damp smell of the tunnel, panic squeezing her chest.

  We’re twenty feet underground. Maybe thirty. Far enough for the weight of the earth to crush us.

  “Nightland,” the woman said.

  They walked in silence for a moment. The pounding of the music faded, and the walls muffled the sounds of their footsteps.

  The ceiling here was short, barely above the sword man’s head. The woman at the door to the tunnel would have needed to hunch to walk down it.

  The walls swayed, closing in around them. Smothering Nola in dirt.

  Nola blinked, willing the walls to hold still.

  “You all right?” the sword man asked, raising a sculpted black eyebrow at Nola.

  “She’s fine,” the man with the pipe said. “She’s from the domes. If the air bothers her, she can just use her I-Vent.”

  “Not the air,” Nola said. Her voice sounded faint even to her own ears. She took a deep breath and tried to sound stronger. “I don’t like being underground.”

  The woman with the knife laughed, her voice bouncing down the tunnel. “And Kieran asked you to come here? And I thought you must be an old friend of his.”

  “I am,” Nola said. “What is this place?”

  “Nightla—”

  “What is Nightland?” Nola cut the woman off.

  It was the man with the staff's turn to laugh. “Nightland is exactly what it sounds like, Domer. It’s the land of the night dwellers, and you just wandered into it.”

  Night dwellers. Impossibly heavy doors. People in the city who roamed the night. All of those people were dancing, not coughing, not sick. Dancing underground in the night.

  Vampers. Kieran led me to a Vamper den.

  Nola stopped walking and almos
t toppled over as the man continued. But his grip on her arm was so strong she couldn’t fall to the floor. He held her up without seeming to notice.

  She should run away or shout for help. But there was nowhere to go and no one to hear.

  “What are your names?” Nola swallowed hard. “I’m Magnolia.” Maybe if they thought of her as human, like them, not as a meal. But were they human? If a drug changed you that much….

  “Raina,” the woman said, looking back at Nola. The turning of her head sent her purple and scarlet hair dance in the dim light.

  “That’s Julian.”

  The man with the sword and the dark shining hair bowed his head. “It’s a pleasure.”

  “Desmond.”

  The dark-skinned man with hundreds of tiny scars gave a jerk of his head.

  “And Bryant.”

  The man with the pipe didn’t acknowledge Nola.

  “Those are great names,” Nola said.

  “What were you expecting?” Desmond asked, his voice a low grumble.

  “Something along the lines of Fang, Shade, Bloodlust, and Satan I expect,” Julian said.

  “I-I meant,” Nola stammered, hoping accidentally being rude wasn’t enough of a reason to eat a person, “that it is lovely to meet all of you. And thank you for bringing me safely to Kieran.”

  “Don’t worry, Domer,” Bryant said from behind. “We won’t hurt you. Not before you get to see Kieran.”

  “So, he’s alive?” Nola’s heart leapt into her throat. “Kieran’s fine?”

  “I don’t think our definitions of fine would match.” Raina sneered, baring her teeth.

  Nola tensed. Kieran was alive. He would protect her. Kieran wouldn’t let them drink her blood. He had told her to come here.

  He wouldn’t lead me here to watch me die.

  They walked in silence. Every once in a while, there would be a metal door in the wall, or another tunnel twisting away into the darkness.

  Nola tried to remember each time they turned. But there were no arrows on the walls like in the domes. No signs pointing the way. And even if she could remember the path, there was no way she could get back the way she came. Not unless they wanted her to go.

  “How big is this place?” Nola asked, more to break the endless pounding of their footfalls than because she actually wanted to know.

  “No idea,” Raina said. “I don’t own a measuring tape.”

  “Then how much longer until we get there?” Nola asked. She didn’t know how long it had taken her to find Nightland or how long she had been down here.

  If I’m not back in the domes by sunrise . . .

  “We’ll be there soon,” Julian said as the tunnel began to widen and slope downward.

  “Where is there?” Nola’s voice shook. How far underground were they now?

  The tunnel widened even more, and the doors along the walls became more frequent. Soon they were passing people in the hall. Some nodded, others averted their eyes, but all of them gave the group a wide berth.

  Brick and stone replaced the dirt of the walls. The lights were evenly spaced, giving the hall a more populated feel. The doors were still made of metal, but they didn’t look as though they were meant to withstand a bomb blast.

  Two boys a few years younger than Nola ran down the hall, laughing, only falling silent as they passed the group. Nola could hear their laughter begin again behind her.

  A sudden jerk shot pain through Nola’s arm. Raina had stopped in front of an antique-looking, intricately carved wooden door, and Julian held Nola in place.

  Raina knocked, and the sound echoed through the hall. Shadows passed behind a small piece of glass set in the door.

  Slowly, the door opened. Nola had hoped Kieran would come running through and tell Julian to let go of her arm where she could feel bruises forming. But instead, a tall man whom she had never seen before stood in front of her, his arms crossed as he stared at the group. Young and handsome, he had curling black hair down to his shoulders. His skin looked as though it should have been a deep olive but had grown pale without the sun. And the man’s eyes were dark with black irises the same as the man who had led her to Nightland.

  Nola glanced at Julian. His eyes were black as well.

  “Emanuel.” Raina bowed. “This Domer showed up at the gate. She said Kieran Wynne told her to find him here.”

  Emanuel examined Nola, starting from her feet and ending with her brown hair. “She looks like the right one. Nola?”

  “Yes.” Nola nodded. “How do you know my name?”

  “Kieran told me about the girl who gives Eden breath.” Emanuel smiled. “I’m glad you decided to brave the outside world. Bring her.” Emanuel turned and walked away.

  Julian steered Nola through the door, and Bryant closed it behind them. The inside of the door had been built of the same heavy metal as the door that led to the street. The intricate wood was only a façade.

  Nola turned to Emanuel but gasped at the space around her. They were in a chamber larger than Nola’s whole house. But instead of bare walls, beautiful art decorated this room.

  Paintings, like the ones Nola had only ever seen on computer screens, adorned the tops of the walls. In the center of the ceiling hung three large crystal chandeliers, bathing all the paintings in their warm light. In one corner sat a piano and in another a harp. Below the paintings, the walls were covered with bookshelves, six feet tall and packed with books.

  “Wow,” Nola whispered.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Emanuel said. “These things would have been destroyed aboveground. Burned in the riots or for warmth, but we decided to protect them. You see, the Domers care about protecting the genetics of the human race. But down here, we want to protect what it is to be human. Sometimes, things have to change in order to survive. It all depends on which part of ourselves we’re willing to give up. Some choose the body, others choose the soul.”

  Nola’s mind raced, trying to take in everything in the room and understand what Emanuel was saying at the same time. She wanted to ask them to stop and let her look at the paintings or touch just one of the books, but they led her on and out through the far side of the room. They entered what appeared to be a home. Dark and, Nola shivered, underground, but a house nonetheless.

  An older woman hovered over a stove, and a little girl clung to her skirt. She reached up to Emanuel as they walked by, but he shook his head at the child and kept walking. Hurt filled the little girl’s big brown eyes as the group moved past the kitchen. Open doors to rooms filled with beds came next and then a steel door. Emanuel pushed the door open, and they all stepped through.

  Chapter Nine

  Nola caught a flash of scrubbed metal tables and brick walls draped in clear plastic before a voice shouted “Nola!” and Kieran’s arms were around her.

  “You’re not dead,” Nola breathed, burying her face in Kieran’s jacket. “I thought you were dead.”

  “I’m fine,” Kieran whispered. “I told you the medicine wasn’t for me.”

  “But Captain Ridgeway found dome medicine on a dead body. After a riot.” Tears streamed down Nola’s face. “I thought it was you. I had to see if you were alright.”

  “I’m fine.” Kieran pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m fine. And you’re safe here.”

  “Safe?” Nola half-shrieked. ”There was a werewolf pack on the bridge. A sick woman was begging me for help, and I didn’t have anything to give her. And then a Vamper almost killed me. He dragged me out of his territory and told me not to come back. I don’t know how I’m going to get home, if I even have time before they find out I’m gone and decide they don’t want me in the domes anymore.”

  “Are all Domer girls this hysterical?” Raina asked from her place by the door.

  “Oh, no.” Dr. Wynne appeared behind his son’s shoulder. His hair stuck out at strange angles and had turned almost completely gray now, and his skin was nearly translucent in its pallor. “Nola is usually quite calm and rea
sonable. She is simply not used to our element, so you’ll just have to be patient while she adjusts.” He gave Nola a fatherly pat on the shoulder, muttering, “It is good to see you,” before wandering back to his worktable.

  “If it’s good to see me”—Nola rounded on Kieran—“then why didn’t you warn me what was at 5th and Nightland?”

  "No one asked you to come here," Raina said. ”I certainly didn't ask for a Domer to ruin my night."

  “Raina,” Emanuel said, silencing her. “How could we have known if you would turn us in?” Emanuel stared intently into Nola’s eyes.

  “Or that you weren’t dumb enough to get yourself killed your first trip outside the domes.” Raina shrugged as Emanuel turned his gaze to her.

  “I’ll make sure you get home before dawn.” Kieran took Nola’s hand. “I won’t let them find out you’re here. I won’t let them banish you.”

  “I thought you were dead,” Nola said to Kieran, keeping her voice low though she knew the rest of the room could hear. “You stole my I-Vent, left me a note telling me how to find you, and now I’m in a den full of Vampers.”

  “We prefer the proper name: vampire. Vamper is a rather nasty term. Rather like us calling you Domer. But I should give you some credit. At least you’re smart enough to have figured that part out,” Julian said in a genial tone. “Although Desmond’s fangs do rather give it away.”

  “Kieran, why are you here?” Nola gripped Kieran’s hand, hanging onto the one thing in the room that didn’t terrify her.

  “I think it’s time we had a talk,” Emanuel said, gesturing for Nola to sit at the large metal table.

  The table looked like a slab for a corpse, not a place to sit for a pleasant chat.

  “Emanuel—” Kieran began, but Emanuel silenced him with the wave of a hand.

  “It is providence that you traveled to us tonight.” Emanuel pointed again for Nola to sit.

  Nola nodded and took a seat at the table. Kieran sat next to her, his smile disappearing as his brow furrowed.

  “Raina, if you could—” Emanuel started.

 

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