by Lori M. Lee
I beamed, cherishing the warmth that infused my chest. “Go back to sleep. It’s still early.”
“Wanted to make sure I caught you before you left,” he said, pillowing his head against his arm. The position made his bicep bulge. “I don’t need you to bring me dinner tonight.”
“Why’s that?”
“Angee’s packing me something.”
I ducked my head. “Oh.”
I took a long gulp of water to wash down a final bite of sandwich. Then I wrapped the other half inside the paper with Reev’s message and put it in the cupboard beneath the counter.
Reev watched me through half-closed lids. His eyes were the shining gray of the sky during the Week of Sun. The rest of the year, an endless wall of tumultuous yellow and orange clouds dominated the sky. Sometimes, at dawn or dusk, the colors flared, and the sky looked like it had been set on fire.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly. He did that on purpose, adjusting his voice to that low, sedate tone that soothed me.
“Nothing,” I said. “I better get to work. Sleep in. That’s an order.”
I ruffled his hair as I passed. I made a quick stop at the communal washroom down the hall and then headed for the exit. Our corner of the Labyrinth had two sets of stairs, rusted metal sheets hastily nailed together with equally rusty nails. I usually took them slowly, which earned me a few curses from the people behind me. I didn’t care. Better slow than dead.
The narrow halls had enough room for one person to pass through comfortably. I tried not to touch the walls—they were perpetually damp from the dips and cracks overhead where rainwater caught and remained. Nothing dried inside the Labyrinth, and the pockets of trapped water overflowed whenever it rained.
On the ground level, the paths grew wide enough for two people. A couple of lanterns burned here and there to ward off the darkness. The Labyrinth’s construction didn’t allow for much daylight to get through. People outside the East Quarter likened it to being buried alive. The comparison wasn’t so far off, but the leaders here—a bunch of grumpy old people who made decisions on behalf of everyone who lived in the Labyrinth—refused to invest in energy stones because they claimed it meant reliance on the Kahl. That, and they couldn’t afford them.
The mail keeper was just outside, each mailbox stacked behind her in a similar style to the Labyrinth. The carrier who covered the East Quarter didn’t like me, which meant I’d never be able to convince him to give me the tax directly.
“Nothing for you today,” the mail keeper announced cheerfully. She slapped her dirty gray cap against her matching tunic. One good thing about being a carrier was that I didn’t have to wear the hideous mail keeper uniforms.
I frowned. “Are you sure?” Tax charges never took more than a day or two to arrive. I chewed the corner of my lip. Maybe the carrier had lost it.
A shout came from behind me. “Get out of here!”
I looked up. Residents had gathered at the entrance to the Labyrinth. I waved my thanks at the mail keeper and wandered over, craning my neck to see what was going on. Couldn’t be anything good. The people here weren’t exactly neighborly.
A young man about Reev’s age stood off the path, facing down the growing crowd that circled him, closing in. He looked worried. A little desperate. It wasn’t an uncommon expression, but I could tell by the quality of his clothes and his clean face that he wasn’t like the people who hid in the creases of the city. He wore a fitted black leather tunic, matching pants, and high boots—the boots alone cost six months of Reev’s salary.
“Go on!” someone shouted. “Your kind isn’t welcome here.”
The young man drew a deep breath. “Can you tell her I want to see her? Please. Just tell—”
Something flew toward the back of his head. I opened my mouth to shout a warning but stopped myself.
The man’s arm snapped up, easily snatching the rock from the air. He hadn’t even looked.
The crowd went silent, its hostility heavy in the sudden quiet. And I realized exactly what he was.
CHAPTER 4
THE MAN WAS a sentinel, one of the Kahl’s elite private guard. Everyone outside the White Court called them his dogs. This was my first time seeing a sentinel, and I’d wager the same for everyone else now gawking at him. As far as I knew, sentinels remained solely within the White Court. I’d never heard of one entering the East Quarter before.
Every cadet who joined the Watchmen Academy hoped to gain the rank of sentinel someday, but Kahl Ninu awarded the status only to those who won the Tournament—the final challenge for graduating cadets.
Becoming the Kahl’s dog, especially if this man had lived originally in the East Quarter, was a betrayal of the unspoken code of the Labyrinth.
He dropped the rock. His other hand clutched a folded slip of paper.
“I just wanted to see her once,” he said. He spoke quietly, but I had no trouble hearing him over the hushed crowd. “Can you let her know I came? Or give her this for me?”
“Just go away,” said a man near the front. His voice trembled. Everyone around him nodded in agreement.
The man’s eyes lowered, the slip of paper crumpling in his fist. Without another word, he turned. Those behind him leaped aside to let him through, and the crowd began to break up as he marched away.
I had no sympathy for the sentinel. He’d chosen to leave us for the decadence of the White Court.
He bent his head, his hand dragging through his shoulder-length hair.
There—at the base of his neck—was a red, oblong tattoo.
My feet charged forward. Without thinking, I shouted at his back, “Hey!”
He looked over his shoulder.
“Hey,” I repeated stupidly. The tattoo was just visible, the scarred skin raised like welts beneath the red ink.
He flipped his hair back into place and yanked his collar up higher. My face grew hot. I hadn’t meant to stare.
It wasn’t any of my business, and he had a right to his secrets.
But it was still worth a shot. “What is that on your neck?”
The way his eyes narrowed was answer enough. He began to leave again.
“Wait,” I said. I gestured to the letter. “I’ll give it to her for you. What’s her name?”
He just watched me. I shifted awkwardly and rubbed my palms against my sides.
“If you want,” I added.
“Lila Sevins,” he said curtly. He handed me the crumpled note.
“Your sister?”
“My mother. Thanks.” He didn’t sound convinced that I would really do it. I didn’t blame him.
I smoothed out the note and then slid it into my pocket. For some reason, I wanted to reassure him. Reev would want me to.
“I promise I’ll get it to her.”
He went still. Then he nodded. “Thanks,” he said again, and this time, it sounded like he meant it.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “that you couldn’t see her.” But if he had loved his mother enough to come back, he shouldn’t have left her in the first place.
“Won’t matter after tonight anyway.” He continued up the path toward the bridge.
I watched him go. Red flashed beneath his hair. My jaw tightened, and I looked away.
After work, I’d find Lila.
Reev was late.
I rolled onto my side and opened my eyes. I could make out the lines of the empty cot across from me in the dark. I strained my ears, listening for the telltale creak of footsteps out in the hall.
Reev was never late.
I drew a slow breath through my nose and released it through my mouth. And then again. It didn’t help the fear stirring in my gut. Reev was big enough that most people left him alone, and he could defend himself if he ran into trouble. I still didn’t feel any better.
Maybe he’d gone to Angee’s. The thought made me grimace.
Reev was entitled to a personal life, even if it made me feel … I didn’t know how I felt about it. Uncomfort
able. Unsure. Left out. I groaned into my pillow. Could I be any more pathetic?
It wasn’t the fact that she was a prostitute that bothered me. In Ninurta, you did what you needed to survive. To be honest, I didn’t know if anyone would ever be good enough in my eyes for Reev.
For as far back as I could remember, it had been the two of us. I didn’t like having to share him, no matter how childish that was.
Few people would’ve taken responsibility for a kid picked up off the riverbank, and Reev had still been a kid himself. When he turned eighteen, he looked into officially adopting me, but simply filing the request cost more than he could afford. He continued to bring up the idea over the years, but I told him that it didn’t matter. Those were credits better spent on keeping us alive.
I buried my face in my pillow. Reev had taken care of me for long enough; he deserved his own time.
After work, I had kept my promise to the sentinel. It had taken me an hour, but I found Lila. She lived in the southernmost section of the Labyrinth in a freight container caving in on one side. When I told her who’d given me the letter, I thought she’d slam the door in my face. Instead she had taken it with a scowl and then slammed the door. But I had heard her muffled sobs through the metal walls.
That kind of pain—it was why I’d given up any real hope of finding a familiar face a long time ago. The citizen registry said I had no living relatives, and I had no reason to believe that wasn’t true. In fact, I wanted it to be true. It would mean they hadn’t chosen to leave me.
An hour later, I gave up trying to sleep and rose from my cot to light the lantern, which cast a warm glow across the metal walls. My internal clock told me it had to be about seven. The only breakfast waiting for me in the cupboard was the leftover sandwich, which I had no appetite for, so I threw off Reev’s shirt that I liked to sleep in and pulled on a pair of worn pants and a belted tunic. Then I grabbed my toiletries and made a quick visit to the washroom. I hated it in there; the smell hit you like a roiling wall of fumes, and the staff only got around to cleaning it—not very well—once every couple of weeks.
When I finished and Reev had yet to appear, I began worrying in earnest.
The bridge creaked as I hurried across. The river sloshed green and brown beneath the boards. This early, the docks were quiet, the buildings twice as drab in the daylight. I headed straight for the post and ran my fingers along the wood.
There was nothing beneath the R I’d scratched in yesterday. There should have been a mark for when he’d left work last night.
Keeping in touch was Reev’s rule. Even if we didn’t see each other, we’d know we were safe.
Reev had never broken that rule before.
Caging my fear, I turned down the road to the docks, my pace quickening until I was running. I almost ran straight into the closed door of the Raging Bull but caught myself in time to tug it open. I prepared to yell at Reev for working late without telling me.
He wasn’t there. My pulse jumped beneath my skin.
Angee’s spot at the desk was empty. The door nearby opened. Joss paused when he saw me.
“Where’s Reev?” I demanded.
Joss grunted. “He left same as always. What do you want? Ready for a real job?”
I fled, chased out onto the boardwalk by Joss’s laughter.
This wasn’t right. Reev would never go anywhere without making sure I knew where he was. He was Reev: consistent, reliable, unfailing.
I’d been afraid even to think it until now… .
People were disappearing. Had been for years. Like many others, I pretended not to notice. The Watchmen were supposedly still searching for them, but as long as it didn’t affect me and Reev, it wasn’t my business. Worse things happened in Ninurta.
I was safe with Reev. With his silent strength and the subtle tenderness he reserved just for me and the way his arm felt around my shoulders.
He was untouchable.
He was supposed to be untouchable.
CHAPTER 5
REEV WASN’T IN the habit of making friends, so I didn’t know who to ask if they’d seen him. Besides Angee, that is; but she hadn’t been at the Raging Bull, either, and I didn’t know where she lived.
Reev’s past was as much a mystery to me as my own. He avoided talking about the time before he’d found me. Now I wish I’d been bold enough to push him.
The idea of going back to ask Joss for information made me shudder. He wasn’t the type to give anything for free. Few people in Ninurta gave information freely.
Since I had nothing to give, I’d have to rely on myself.
I started my search in the Labyrinth. I doubted I’d find Reev hidden in some obscure corner, but I wanted to cover all my bases. I’d spent months exploring the entirety of the Labyrinth when I was younger, so I knew my way around the maze-like corridors. Checking the ground level and the common areas where people liked to gather was easy enough, but poking around the less stable floors was trickier. I didn’t know how anyone could stay in those sections and not feel as if they were living on a spinning top that could tip over at any moment.
With no sign of my brother in the nooks of the Labyrinth, I left for the North District. I started at the docks and headed up through the cracked streets. My mind tortured me with images of Reev lying bleeding in a hidden alley. Maybe he hadn’t been kidnapped. Maybe he’d just been outnumbered by one of the street gangs.
I peered down alleys and searched through neighborhoods I hadn’t dared enter before. The buildings slanted from poorly constructed foundations. Most of them bore holes where the elements had eroded through stone and wood, revealing the rotting frames beneath like skeletons.
By noon, I was tired and frustrated, and hours late for my shift. Drek.
When I walked through the doors of the DMC, my boss’s nostrils flared. My shoulders drooped. I had to keep this job, but I really didn’t want to beg.
“You’re usually a reliable worker, Kai.”
I winced, waiting for the catch.
Ellane planted her fists on her nonexistent hips and sucked in her hollow cheeks. “Tell you what,” she said. “I got a package I need delivered. Do that for me, and I’ll only cut half your credits next week.”
It was a shoddy deal, and we both knew it. But we also knew I couldn’t turn it down. The address on the package was in a neighborhood a little farther north than my usual route. Since I planned to search the area, it wouldn’t be out of the way.
By the time I reached the neighborhood two hours later, my feet ached. I sank against the side of a building and tucked the package beside me. The uneven stone dug into my shoulder blades.
My plan wasn’t working. People noticed when a new face wandered into their part of the district, and they weren’t friendly to outsiders, especially outsiders with questions. A couple of guys even stalked me back to the main road, but I lost them on the crowded sidewalk.
How was I going to find Reev? I closed my eyes, keeping the panic at bay. When I opened them again, my gaze settled on the outer wall, the one that bordered the entire city, visible above the drab buildings.
The wall marked Ninurta’s border and protected us from the gargoyles that all but ruled the Outlands. They ran in packs, but there was little else anyone knew about them. Despite what the bedtime stories said, they’d only ever been seen at a distance.
I didn’t know how anything could survive out there. The Outlands could be glimpsed easily through the city gate—flat, barren earth as far as I could see. What if Reev was out there? What if he really had been kidnapped by some crazy rebel?
My fingers curled around the cloth of my shirt. No. The Black Rider was a cover-up, either because the Kahl didn’t know where the missing people were or because he didn’t care. Kahl Ninu never even tried to explain why some poorly named rebel would need to kidnap anyone.
The popular rumor in the Alley was that the Rider had tamed his own pack of gargoyles, and he kidnapped Ninurtans to feed them. Not sure what th
at had to do with overthrowing the Kahl, but maybe it was a psychological tactic. Demoralization or something.
Or it was just another ridiculous explanation to appease the questions. Those taken were never heard from again. Ninurta was a big city, but nothing a thorough guard unit wouldn’t be able to sift through if it put in the effort. If the missing people were still here, the Watchmen would have found them by now.
I gritted my teeth and pushed away from the wall. I would worry about all that later, after I ran out of other options.
I shifted the package, gripping it against my stomach. Delivering the thing seemed so trivial compared to Reev’s absence, but I couldn’t lose my only source of credits.
I’d never been this far north before. I repeated my boss’s directions in my head and turned left at a corner where a large poster boasted the freshest bread in the city. I doubted it.
The folks in the North District considered everything past the abandoned train tracks and the boarded-up station the Upper Alley. The streets here were still dirty, threaded with cracks and riddled with potholes, but they were better kept than those down by the docks.
I followed the road and ignored the pedestrians who stared at me. A couple of women strutted past in high-collared silver tunics and heels that would’ve made my sore feet sting in sympathy, except the added height only made it easier for them to look down on me. The people here liked to think of themselves as White Court residents living outside its walls, because they had more credits to spare than the rest of us.
If you asked me, though, Purgatory was Purgatory.
I found the house next to a shrine dedicated to a god I didn’t know. Built before Rebirth, the carved facade was crumbling, but it was clear it had been sculpted by a talented hand. Not many people visited the shrines anymore, and the mahjo temple was used now only for farewell ceremonies. Faith and prayers could take a person only so far, especially without the mahjo to reinforce the old beliefs. But I understood why people would want to believe in those sorts of things—they made the world feel less lonely. And you never knew what a person could do fueled by hope.