‘You have a lot of experience with that?’ I ask, unsure if I’m mad at the other girls or myself now.
Jost’s eyes narrow, and he regards me closely. ‘Is this about us or Enora?’
‘Enora.’
‘Could have fooled me.’
‘If they ignore that we’re all secretly courting half the guard, why do they mind if she’s in love with Valery?’ I’m screaming, and I don’t even care.
‘Would you let me finish?’ he asks. ‘It threatens them – the officials – if a Spinster is loyal to someone else.’
‘Valery said there were others,’ I tell him, dropping the attitude a notch. ‘In Arras.’
‘Did you ever meet any?’
‘No,’ I admit.
‘They keep it quiet and everyone leaves them alone or they’re remapped. It’s not only them, though. If a Spinster falls in love with a man, even an official, they’ll put an end to it.’
‘Remap her?’
‘No, they’ve never done that before. Sometimes they remap him or rip him if he’s no one important. Others, they threaten. It happens more often than you think.’ Jost shakes his head. ‘How do you think I became head valet? I kept my nose clean.’
A mixture of excitement and fear churns in my stomach. So there’s no one else. ‘And if they find out about . . .’
‘About us?’ he finishes quietly when I don’t continue. ‘I’m no one important.’
‘Yes, you are,’ I say. ‘They won’t be able to control me.’
‘They have your sister.’
‘They don’t have my heart.’
And there it is. As close as we’ve come to talking about whatever it is between us.
‘I can’t lose you,’ he says in a soft voice.
‘You won’t.’
‘It’s a risk for me even to be here,’ he says, standing and beginning to pace the golden dome.
‘They don’t know I can do this.’
‘Not yet.’
‘I know.’ I sigh and stand up. We’re getting dangerously close to something we can’t take back, and I’m not sure I can do this without him now that Enora’s so different. ‘We need a plan, but first we have to figure something out.’
He cocks an eyebrow.
‘What’s happened to Enora,’ I remind him.
I don’t know where her quarters are located, but Jost does, so I dismantle the dome and smooth the strands of time back into place within the room’s weave. Out of the safety of the time bubble, we’re pushing our luck, but he leads me out of my room and up two flights of stairs to her hall.
‘They monitor the lift more than the stairs,’ he tells me as we ascend. ‘No one uses them.’
Enora’s hall is similar to mine, but all the doors are painted violet instead of plum. Jost raps on the first one and waits, but there’s no answer.
‘You sure about this?’ he asks.
I nod. I won’t sleep tonight until I’ve spoken to her.
Jost holds his thumb to the scanner and the door clicks open to a quiet room. Large paintings hang in golden frames throughout the apartment. From the doorway the images look like flowers, but as I move closer to them they blur into a mash of subtle colours, losing their beauty. A small four-poster bed – its linens taut and its cushions precisely placed – sits next to the unlit hearth. The room feels abandoned.
‘She’s not here,’ Jost says from the window.
A chill creeps up into my throat, but I push it back down. They can’t have simply removed her. ‘Let’s check the bathroom.’
He follows me without a word. Her bathroom is smaller than my own and with the lights off I can barely make out her prep area except for the white plastic chair – exactly like mine – that glows faintly as we enter the empty room.
‘I don’t know where she is,’ Jost says. ‘I can run a locator on her from the valet station.’
‘Wait,’ I breathe, aware of the drip of a tap. My hand stretches in the dark, searching for the switchscan. When I run my hand along it, light floods the tiny space, and I blink.
Jost’s eyes adjust more quickly. ‘Damn it!’
I watch as he darts across the marble floor, but I can’t bring myself to look where he’s going. It’s in his voice. I don’t want to see what he sees. If I turn away now, I can go back to the still bedroom and out to the empty hallway and never know.
But then he’s pulling her up, and it’s too late.
Water sloshes over the side of the tub, trailing red down the white porcelain. She’s pale in his arms, not the polished ivory achieved via the aesthetician’s chair, but the blankness of untouched paper, bleached into absence. He struggles with her, heaving her body up by her underarms. The bloodied water laps against her bare breasts and trickles down her collarbone, and I can’t look away. Even from here, I spy angry red gashes along her wrists.
‘Stop,’ I command in a flat voice.
‘Help me, Adelice,’ he says, still pulling against her heavy body.
‘It’s too late,’ I tell him. The escaping water spreads across the marble, and I stare as it creeps toward the toes of my satin heels.
Jost looks at me but doesn’t say anything. After a moment, he drops her arms and lets her body slide back into the water. The motion forces another wave up over the side of the tub, and the puddle of water at my feet surges over my toes. I should step back.
‘Maela,’ Jost accuses quietly.
‘No,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘Enora did this.’
‘She wouldn’t—’
‘The Enora we knew wouldn’t.’
‘Then it’s still them,’ he says. He keeps his voice hushed, but his words are defiantly clear. The audio transmitters must be monitoring us, but why has no one come?
‘Of course it’s them. It always is,’ I say, and then turn to the door.
I crumble as soon as I’m over the threshold, but Jost is already there to catch me.
‘I have to call this in,’ he whispers.
Helping me to the only armchair in the room, Jost waits for me to settle back, but I lean forward on the edge of the seat, my elbows resting on my knees, and hide my face in my hands. Across the room, Jost speaks into the companel in a low voice. They’ll be here in moments and then explanations will be expected. I don’t know what to say. My mind has stopped forming words and keeps replaying the ripple of water against Enora’s breasts.
‘Let me talk,’ Jost whispers, kneeling down next to me.
I turn my head and stare into his blue eyes. I wish I could sink into them and float away.
The guards arrive first, then a few maids, and finally Maela sweeps into the room.
‘Where is she?’ she asks like she can’t hear the muffled chaos in the next chamber.
Jost answers, which is good, because I’m not sure I remember how to talk.
‘You,’ she says to me, ‘stay here.’
I look up and glare at her. Not much of a chance I’m going anywhere.
Maela disappears into the bathroom, and I strain to listen. I think someone is crying. Probably one of the servants. Some poor girl rejected years ago.
I wait forever, and Jost stays crouched by my side. We don’t speak.
‘Adelice,’ Maela says, coming back into the room, ‘you found her?’ She lights a cigarette and blows the smoke down at me.
‘Yes,’ I say in a clipped tone.
‘And she was already dead?’
I clench my jaw and nod.
‘And the last time you saw her?’
‘Yesterday,’ I lie.
Her eyes turn to slits and she opens her mouth, but before she can speak, Loricel enters the room.
‘I’ve informed the medical department,’ she says to Maela. ‘As well as the main office. An investigator will be here soon. You are no longer needed.’
Maela turns to Loricel and lifts her chin. ‘I’ll decide that.’
‘No,’ Loricel says in a quiet voice. ‘I will. Enora was in Manipulation Services. You are
dismissed.’
Maela shoots me one withering look, but she slinks out of the room.
‘You found her?’ Loricel asks.
I sigh and squeeze my eyes shut. If Loricel was the one who sent her to be remapped, I shouldn’t be so glad to see her.
‘When was the last time you saw her?’ Loricel asks.
I open my mouth, ready to repeat the information I told Maela. ‘I saw her—’
‘Tell me the truth,’ Loricel interrupts. She’s already washed her face and without the carefully applied cosmetics and patching, the cracks of age are more visible. Her eyes sink back and her eyelids droop.
‘I saw her this morning,’ I whisper. ‘She was with Valery.’
‘Thank you,’ she says in a tired voice.
‘Loricel,’ I say, ‘you have to protect Valery.’
She presses her lips into a thin line and looks away. I don’t wait to hear her excuse. Standing, I stride to the door, away from her and Jost, but I hear her response. ‘I’m afraid it’s too late for that.’
Yeah, that’s what I thought.
I’m down one flight of stairs before Jost catches up with me. His boots beat down the steps behind me, but I don’t stop until his strong hand closes around my arm. He pulls me to his chest and I melt into him. I count the beats of his heart, each more precious than the one before, until I’m sure my own heart will break. As soon as he’s released my arm, I back away.
‘Ad—’
‘No.’ I raise my palm to stop him from speaking. ‘This has to stop now. You saw what they did to her.’
‘She did that to herself.’
‘Because they drove her to it. They warped her mind, Jost.’
‘She was an experiment.’
‘Exactly,’ I whisper. ‘To get to me. And anyone else in the way.’
‘So we pretend nothing’s happened between us?’ he asks.
‘It’s the only choice we have.’
‘I can’t accept that.’
‘We always knew this couldn’t go anywhere,’ I murmur.
Jost takes a step back and stares me down. I resist the urge to fall into his arms and instead push by him to the next set of stairs. There has to be another way. If I break his heart again . . .
‘I won’t live without you,’ he whispers, and his eyes say it all – desperation, betrayal, grief. But even as these emotions flash across his face, he reaches out his hand. He would risk everything – his own life – for us. But I can’t make that sacrifice. The Guild will kill him, too, if they find out about us. I can’t lose him, so I have to let him go.
‘Try,’ I say, as coldly as I can, but I’m dashing down the steps before he replies.
18
I skip breakfast. And lunch. I don’t leave my room. Valery doesn’t come to style me, so I spend the day strung across my prep chair drinking a bottle of wine. Valery would have liked that; she was always telling me to relax while she worked on me. Here you go, Val. I have another glass for Enora. And then one for my mother, who would so not approve. As it turns out, there are a lot of people to drink to, and I do my best.
I devote the second half of the bottle to Jost, who isn’t dead. Yet. I’m sure dragging him into this will be just the ticket to add him to my personal death toll. And no matter how much I drink, this thought sobers me right up. I can’t let them kill Jost or Amie or even Loricel. I can’t let anyone else suffer because of me. Which leaves me with two options: buck up and take one for the team or get out of here. The trouble with Arras is that the whole thing is watched and controlled by the Guild, right down to my personal identifying sequence. Even if I got out of the compound, a tracker could use my sequence to hunt me down before I made it past the rebound station. Or maybe Cormac would skip catching me entirely and have me ripped.
By mid-afternoon I’ve come up with nothing. But since no one bothers to force me to work I slip into a pair of linen pants and a soft cotton tunic – the only clothing in my entire closet that doesn’t require buckling, zipping, or stockings. It’s the perfect outfit to lie down and waste away in. Staring out the window from my bed, I watch as waves seep onto the shore. There is no snow on the mountain today. Everything is placid, programmed to counteract last night’s tragedy. The wine churns in my empty stomach as I stare out at the peaceful scene, and I feel anything but tranquil.
Behind me my door clicks open, but I don’t turn around. I told Jost not to come, so he can go about whatever menial task he’s concocted as an excuse to see me. Besides, I probably smell like Cormac by now. Not very romantic. But he doesn’t go to the fireplace or my bathroom. I can’t detect the exotic aroma of a late luncheon. Instead he walks straight to me and stands there; I keep my back to him.
‘Go away.’ Happily, my speech is clear.
‘I can’t.’ It’s Jost’s voice, but he speaks in a firm tone – confident of his right to be here. ‘I’ve been sent to retrieve you for a meeting with Ambassador Patton.’
The voice sounds so like him, but different, too. More professional, arrogant. Something clicks in my brain, and I flip onto my other side. Big mistake. Stars burst across my eyes, making my head swim. Maybe I am a little drunk.
‘Been a while,’ I say.
‘I thought it was better to—’ Erik begins.
‘Stay away?’
‘I didn’t want to push things.’
‘I think we crossed that line,’ I say with a cold smile.
Erik’s jaw tightens and then relaxes. I hold out my hand, and he helps me up. My balance is shaky, but, ever the gentleman, Erik takes my arm without a word. It’s strange to touch him now. I can see my arm looped through his, my skin scrapes against his wool suit jacket, even the back of my clenched fist brushes against his bare wrist, but there’s no spark. My nerves don’t react to the contact. I replay the memory of our kiss in the garden. My first kiss. But now I feel like a watcher not a participant. If there was something there, Maela destroyed it, along with the tips of my fingers. Or maybe it’s the numbing effects of that wine I drank.
We travel in silence, and Erik’s stride is purposeful. Getting me to the meeting: that’s his only objective. It’ll be a relief to get rid of him. The delightful numbness has worn off by the time we reach the closed door. Erik nods to a tall, stern guard in that way that men greet each other.
Erik peels my arm back from his and guides me inside. He doesn’t follow, but as he bows his farewell, I catch a simple ‘I’m sorry’ escape his lips.
Bit late for that.
Inside, Loricel sits at the far side of a large circular oak table and Maela perches on a leather-backed chair by the door. She straightens up and thrusts her chin forward as I enter the room. I’m pretty sure she’s going for proud, but really she just looks constipated. And my old buddy Cormac is at a small bar in the corner, pouring a drink.
‘Good to see everything’s back to normal,’ I say.
From her seat across the room, Loricel’s smile turns into a frown of disapproval.
‘Adelice,’ Cormac says, stirring a squat crystal glass, ‘always a pleasure to see you.’
Such a politician.
‘Have a seat,’ Loricel says.
I take a deep breath and plop down into a chair. I start to cross my legs, but remember I’m wearing trousers, so I lean forward, legs wide, and give Maela a baiting grin. Her face stays serene, but her knuckles go white.
‘I was shocked to hear of the unfortunate incident with your mentor,’ Cormac says, taking a chair next to me.
‘Were you?’ I ask with wide eyes.
‘I was,’ he repeats in a tone that dares me to ask again. ‘Sometimes the demands of a Spinster can be overwhelming, and with the important work we do here we can forget to look after our own.’
‘I’ve felt very looked after,’ I assure him.
Maela clears her throat beside me. ‘Enora struggled with—’
‘Save it,’ I snap at her. ‘We know what Enora struggled with.’
‘Remember yo
ur place—’
‘Enough,’ Loricel says in a quiet voice. ‘Adelice knows her place, and you would do well to learn your own, Maela.’
‘She’s barely even been on a loom,’ Maela says.
‘She’s got more talent in her left pinky than you have in your whole body,’ Loricel responds.
I have to bite back a smile.
‘Don’t be arrogant,’ Loricel says, turning on me. ‘She’s right. With this political nonsense, you’ve had no real training.’
‘The Coventry needs to maintain a face of power,’ Cormac says, sipping his drink. ‘Adelice is key to that.’
‘Cormac, you worry about the political and I’ll keep this world working,’ Loricel says, slamming her hands down on the table. ‘If you plan to move her into my position, she needs to be prepared, not indoctrinated.’
‘Do I even need to be here for this?’ I ask.
‘Watch your mouth, girl,’ he growls.
‘I’d play nicer with your future Creweler, Cormac,’ Loricel says to him. ‘She may not be as forgiving as I am.’
‘The point is, she’s not ready,’ Maela reminds them, and they both glare at her.
‘I’m ready enough.’
‘You understand the fundamentals,’ Loricel says, ‘but you have a lot to learn before you can assume my position.’
‘What if I don’t want it?’
‘I wouldn’t worry about that,’ Cormac says, shaking his head. ‘You’re under stress with the loss of your mentor, but we’ve arranged for you to receive some evaluation and counselling. Enora’s death – it reminds us how demanding this work can be.’
‘Guess it’s not all fancy dinners and dresses,’ I say coldly.
‘No, it’s not,’ he says. ‘We’ll need you here more than ever now.’
‘Loricel planning a vacation?’
Cormac’s eyes flicker to Maela’s, and he shakes his head.
‘Loricel has opted to forgo further renewal treatments.’
I look from him to her, but her eyes are vacant. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means I’m going to die,’ Loricel says softly.
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