The alcohol starts to warm my stomach as I quietly sip and listen to Kit and Trey trading insults that remind me of Gina and Tyler. My fists curl at their sides and I have to fight to keep the tone of my voice from sounding too harsh as I turn to Trey. “You make the homebrew?”
Trey shakes his head and an easy smile appears that lets me know he’s feeling the effects of the half dozen empty bottles he’s downed. “Nah. The sterilisation and bottling happens—”
Kit silences him with a smack to his arm. She leans forward to peer at me while Trey is rubbing his arm and looking chastised. “It’s getting late. Maybe you should be getting her to bed?” I flush but Kit doesn’t correct herself and I know she meant nothing by it. “She looks exhausted.”
I follow her gaze and find Mallory reclining on her chair; a smile is on her face, but her eyes are closed and she looks like she’s ready to doze off. A snag of guilt tugs. She should be resting. I place a hand on her burning skin, and her eyes pop open as she looks at me. Blue light casts shadows over her cheekbones and makes her eyes appear hollowed out.
“That was beautiful. So beautiful,” she says.
I nod, though I’m not thinking about the lights. I’m thinking about how we can get down the ladder and go explore if automated tracking lights are everywhere.
“Why don’t we try to get some sleep?” I don’t think she’ll read the wording as having a double meaning, but she won’t understand I have no intention of sleeping. Not yet, not until I find the control room and can contact Jed.
Her movements are sluggish as she pulls herself off the chair. She yawns as I rise to meet her. She looks so contented like she’s found a missing part of herself, and it makes me a little less sorry about everything we’ve been through.
I can only hope that we’ll find everything we need to without being caught, by Jackson, Kit, or Trey. Or whoever else it is that Jackson doesn’t want us to know about just yet.
* * *
Mallory.
I can still see the colours. I can feel them inside me. They’ve woven their way into the core fabric of my being and I know even if I never get to see them ever again, they’ve changed me somehow. I can’t explain how I’m feeling. I can’t find the words. I want to find something to try and recreate what I’ve witnessed. I want to describe how that makes me feel like I’ve been washed with exquisite beauty like I’ve never encountered before.
I’m so overwhelmed, but it’s not with misunderstanding, or confusion, or the inability to fit in. It’s an awareness, a connection, that the world beyond what I’ve been told of is more radiant than the unfiltered sun that burned my fragile skin.
My hand is in Cristan’s and I tilt my head back and see a sky filled with tiny sparkles of light that spread on endlessly. I wish we could stay out here, but Cristan’s voice is growing strained so I smile happily at the unfiltered sky and try to store away every detail so I can try to emulate it later.
Kit’s smile is lopsided as she pulls herself up from her chair. “I knew you’d love it.” I’m so filled with gratitude that I take my hand from Cristan’s and move towards her. I’m unsure of what to do, but she seems to anticipate my need to express my gratitude. Her smile becomes as shy as I’m sure mine must be, but she wraps her arms around me and I try to copy her movements. Her breath is hot in my ear. “You’re welcome.”
I pull away from her and she smiles one more time before taking her seat again and staring up at the dazzling stars above us. With a sigh, I follow Cristan as he navigates the roof by using the strips of blue lighting. After the wonder of the night sky, the lights I’d normally enjoy seem artificial and lacking. I’m still seeing the colours as though they’d burned into my eyes when Cristan stops at the ladder. The lighting carries on down the rungs, so I’m not concerned there won’t be enough light to see by. I’m still caught in the pull of the wonderful feelings the colour have drawn out of me.
Cristan peers over the ladder. “I think it’s safer if I go first, just in case. It’s darker down there, and I…”
His voice trails off and his eyes find mine. The hint of blue light reflects in them as he eases himself down the first steps and twists so he’s gripping the bars. He nods and starts to climb down. I use the time alone to sneak another look at the beautiful night sky above me.
When Cristan’s voice comes from below, I force myself to follow him back down. All I can make out is the blue lights so it’s less daunting than when I could see how far I’d climbed before. I concentrate on placing my feet and hands in the right places, finding a rhythm in what I’m doing, feeling reassurance rather than dread.
I reach the bottom and Cristan takes my hand in his the instant I let go of the ladder. His fingers are warm and I can feel the calloused skin from where he’s earned blisters from manual labour. I feel connected to him. More aware of him too. Like the lights have shown me just how intertwined everything on the earth is made of the same materials and fabrics.
I take a final look at the sky, now covered by the dome we’re under before Cristan leads me back towards where our room is located. He glances at me sidelong as we walk along the walkway now illuminated by blue. “We’ll head back, wait ‘til everything is quiet, then take a look around.”
The night is still as we enter the structure again. The automated lighting is still on and I’m wide awake, but my feet are still a little sore so I’m glad we’ll have a little time back in our small unit. Cristan is still holding my hand as we take the walkway I was so unnerved by before.
I feel different. Freer. As if the light has allowed me to find a small part of myself that I’ve lost. A smile twitches my lips as the door opens to allow us entry. Cristan lets go of my hand and runs his hand over his hair. The door closes after us and I collapse onto the bed, lying back so I can stare at the white ceiling. Paint is peeling off in one corner, so I fix my eyes on that and recall the brilliance of the lights I’d never known existed. Cristan lies down beside me and stares up too. My fingers creep closer to his and he grasps them tightly.
“Why did they keep them from us?” I ask him.
He releases a breath of air. “Because if we knew what we were missing, we wouldn’t have accepted the way things were.” It makes sense, but it stirs anger in my belly. I twist so I’m lying on my side. Cristan matches my posture. A line has formed between his eyebrows and his mouth is pressed downwards. “Maybe they knew seeing things like that would make us want to leave?”
My own brows knot together as I shift closer to him. I risk asking him what I’m desperate to know. “How did you leave? How did Jed get here?”
Anger flicks across his face and his fingers pull away from mine. “This isn’t the time.”
I swallow hard and try to push away the depth of his anger. I don’t think he’ll hurt me, but there’s a part of me that knows it possible so I’m careful with my words. “I’m not sorry I came here.” It’s harder to admit it than I think it’ll be. My eyes well with tears and my voice is shaking, but I want to share how I feel. I want him to know he can trust me. “I miss Constance and my father, but I’m angry. And I want to have a choice in what I get to see. I don’t want to miss any more than I already have.”
When I look at him, it’s not anger but sadness I think I see on his face. He nods. “I felt the same way too, but between Jed and the hour limit, I was kind of stuck.” I hold my breath at the mention of Jed, he dips his chin so I can’t see his face clearly. His hair covers his eyes, but I think I hear his voice carrying a wobble. “Guess I don’t have to worry about the time limit.”
I know he’s making a joke, but there’s nothing funny about the way he left Jed behind to keep me safe. I reach for him and hope to soothe away some of the hurt by stroking the forearm closest to me. “But you’re worried about Jed?”
It’s not a question, but I get things wrong so often, I don’t want to make a mistake. His eyes are moist but he turns away from me so his broad back is facing me. His shoulders shake a little and I�
�m sure he’s holding back Irrelevant emotions he’s ashamed of. I stare at him, trying to think of what I can say or do to make him feel better.
His shirt has ridden up, exposing the flesh of his lower back. My eyes find the tail of the dragon, but I don’t touch it even though I want to. He’s so close, I can see the details more clearly than I have before. I move closer, my fingers hovering over the skin that looks scaly. I squint and see the skin is raised, almost shiny like the blisters on my feet. I know what will happen if I touch him there so I edge my body in closer until I’m snug against his back. I place my hand over his body and hold him as tightly as I can. I hope that the pressure helps him as much as it’s helped me.
My arms feel so useless, but his fingers slide into mine and he breathes out a long sigh. “Sorry. Guess everything just kind of hit me, you know?”
I press my cheek against his back. My voice is muffled when I speak words I know will test his mood. “I wish someone had taken me from the old city.”
His body stills and my heart starts to speed in case I’ve provoked his anger again. I start to take it back, but he’s turning around. His eyes are moist, but he seems more exhausted than angry. He lifts his hand and runs his fingers through my tangled hair. A shiver runs down my spine. His voice is husky as he shifts closer so we’re a breath apart. “If I could explain why I left, I would, but this isn’t something I can tell anyone. Not even you.”
All further questions die as his hand moves to the back of my neck and he kisses me softly.
* * *
Cristan.
I’m taking the cowards way out. I couldn’t think of anything else that might distract her, and I’m too tired to think of anything else. It doesn’t take long for me to forget I was only kissing her to get myself out of another awkward situation. It’s a crazy thing to do. For her, for me, and especially because I need to get out of here, not start something I absolutely can’t finish.
My brain seems to have disconnected with my body and my hands are around her waist and tugging her so she’s lying on top of me. I’m so busy convincing myself I dodged a bullet that it takes me a second to connect what my hands are doing with what they shouldn’t be doing. I should stop kissing her but getting my brain to respond is more than I can manage right now.
I’m acutely aware of every tiny detail of her. Her hair is tickling my face, her skin is soft and warm, and what she’s doing with her mouth is sending shock waves through my body. My hands are travelling the length of her curves and creeping underneath her shirt. I need to slam the brakes on before it goes any further. I’m still grappling with how to extricate myself from her when she sits up so she’s straddling me. Her face is flushed and her hair is as wild as her eyes. I can’t justify fighting her. I can’t justify giving in.
I’ve never experienced this depth of feeling for anyone. I know it’s an outdated notion, I know she won’t fully comprehend what saying it aloud means for a screw up like me, but I don’t think I could stop myself if I wanted to. I need her to know I’m not like everyone else. I’m all kinds of crazy, but I’m not a complete bastard.
Some of Drew’s antiquated morals must have rubbed off on me, because I’m thinking about weird things involving old churches, fancy food, and wine from long-stemmed glasses like I’ve seen in the movies from the twenty-first. It’s such a potent idea, to make a commitment to one person for life, not out of the desire to increase social standing, or for purely physical reasons, I can feel myself getting carried away with mad ideas that can’t ever come to fruition.
There was freedom before testing started, even if there was disorder and disunity, there were choices that I can’t even begin to dream of being able to make. Out here in no man’s land, the rules are different, and a spark of unsettling hope wants to push its way through the cynicism that’s stripped away all my trust.
A jolt of realisation makes me pull away and stare at her in wonder. Pretty much everyone has written me off as paranoid. No one trusts my judgement. Except her. She trusts me. And for whatever reason, probably because she doesn’t lie to me or try to manipulate me, I’m starting to trust her too.
I’m so caught up in the idea, I don’t even feel stupid when I run my fingers over her arms. “I wish I could marry you.”
Her eyes widen, she lets out a half-choked sob like she knows it’s important to me, but she doesn’t understand. “What does marry mean?”
It should be a simple question to answer, but I need to put it into words so she’ll understand what that means to me. “It means I want to spend the rest of my life with you and not even look at other girls.” She cocks her head at me and I can see she still doesn’t understand fully, so I elaborate though my heart is thumping against my ribs. “It means I think you’re amazing, that there is no one else I’d rather be with or spend time with.”
Her forehead only creases harder, her voice is a rough whisper as she leans over me. “But I’m not like other girls.”
Something in my chest snaps at the pain and confusion on her face, so I say the one thing I hope will convince her of my honesty. “I know. And that’s why I love you.”
A tear drips down her nose and lands with a splosh on my shirt. Her arms give out and she collapses on me. She starts sobbing and I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight. Her voice is almost a whisper but relief swims through me when she breathes out the words. “I love you too, Cristan.”
My body goes rigid, my throat thickens, and unfamiliar moisture springs to my eyes. No one has ever said that to me before. Never. Not my parents, not my brother, no one. I didn’t even know I needed someone to say it until she had. In that second, I know I’ll do anything to protect her.
My brain is too fuzzy to figure it all out and we can’t leave just yet, so I just hold her in my arms and wait ‘til lights out.
* * *
Mallory.
I don’t know why, but in his arms, feeling his strength, his courage, his love, I know I’m not the same girl who was cast out as Irrelevant. There is colour in my world now. Colour, affection, warmth, and untold amounts of wonderful things to be discovered. With him. My dragon-man.
The lights don’t dim, not like in the new city and in Cristan’s Unit. They hum above us, a constant reminder that things are different here, that we set the rules, the time we sleep and the time we wake. I’m not scared, though I know I should feel anxious about who else lurks in no man’s land, but it’s hard to feel afraid when a wall of muscle is wrapped around you. I’m not afraid because I know he’ll look after me. I know this, just as I know I’ll do what I can to help him when and how he needs me.
I want to. I want him to be calm and steady. I need him to be. And I think under the anger he’s hurting. Someone hurt him badly enough to make him angry when he doesn’t want to be. I snuggle in closer and wrap my arms around his waist. My hands skim over his body, and heat rushes over my body, but the intensity is diminished. I can feel him readying himself to explore and find a way to contact his brother.
I want to stay here in this room with him. I want to prise all of his secrets out. I want to know things about him that no one else does, I want to help soothe his hurt and make him smile, but I can’t do all that. Not on my own. I ease away from the warmth of his body and push myself up on my arm so I’m peering down at him.
His lips tug upwards into a smile as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “We should probably go.” He releases a sigh and runs a hand over his face then he sits up. His face is drawn and the bruises are more pronounced in the yellow lighting.
He looks me up and down, a question on his lips I’m already prepared for. “My feet are fine.” His brow scrunches like he doesn’t believe me, and I know he’ll delay if he thinks I’m in pain so I pull my shoulders back and try to glare at him. “I’m not as delicate as you think I am.”
His eyes widen, his mouth creases so I know he’s trying not to smile. “You sure?” I know the glare isn’t working, so I huff out a breath and turn on
my heel and stand at the door. It doesn’t open so Cristan waves his hand over the sensor panel. Nothing happens. Cristan’s posture is growing tense and his brow is twisting into a scowl. He kicks the door and shakes his head. “They’ve locked us in.” He issues what I think is a curse and yanks the sensor casing off the wall, peering inside the tiny box.
I stay where I am, pulse racing as the walls start to press in. “Why didn’t they tell us we’d be locked in?”
I know my panic is audible because he steps away from the panel, grabs my shoulders, and infuses his tone with assurance. “I can get us out of here. I’ve figured out way more complicated locks than this.” I swallow hard and glance at the locked door. He draws me close and gives me a quick hug, then he pulls away and looks around the room. “See if you can find any tools.”
Even though I’m sure he’s just giving me something to do to keep me occupied, I’m grateful I can at least appear to be useful, even if I’m not. I do as he asks and start my search by looking in the cupboard Kit got the medical bag from. I pull out items I don’t recognise and try to ignore the presence of my anger as it builds. Why hadn’t Kit told us we’d be locked inside? Are we prisoners? I’m frowning so hard, my sunburn is starting to ache. It’s hard to relax when Cristan is making exasperated noises and muttering under his breath.
I find an antiquated box and squint as I try to read the label that’s so old it’s barely legible. I run a finger over the box, trying to read the letters, but it’s no use, and even if I knew what it said, I don’t know what I’m looking for, so I open the box and check the contents. There are strange instruments inside that remind me of some of the implements I’ve seen inside the hospital when I visited once.
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