I broke the silence. “Triven this is The—”
“Xavier.” Triven cut me off. My eyes jumped to his face. Anger was apparent in his clenched jaw, but only to me.
“I haven’t heard that name in quite some time boy. And how did you come by it may I ask.” I could see The Master’s hand move to the knife I knew was hidden at his hip.
“I recognize your face from my mother’s photo.” Triven sat back against a table, keeping his calm façade. “It’s not every day one meets another deserter from The Sanctuary.”
My head whipped back so fast my neck kinked. “You’re from The Sanctuary?!”
“Aye child. You didn’t think your father came upon my name by luck now did you?”
“But you never told me.” I almost shouted, clenching my fists.
“You never asked.” He shrugged, his hands relaxing a little. Turning back to Triven, he continued. “You must be Vox and Arstid’s child. I can see the resemblance to your father. How are two of my favorite rebels? ”
“My father died shortly after coming here and I am sure my mother would be pleased to know you have been hiding here the whole time.”
Xavier pressed his fingers to his lips, “I am sorry to hear about your father, he was a good man.”
Triven nodded in acceptance, his deep eyes trained on the floor. I would have to ask for an explanation later.
“What brings you here Phoenix? Your skills could obviously use refining, but I get the feeling that’s not why you’re here.”
I mentally cringed at his rebuke. “We are here for information.”
“Information doesn’t come cheap these days girl.” He tossed another green bundle of paper onto the fire as he eyed us.
I placed my bag on the table between us and pulled out the knives and the heat-seeking gun. The bomb I left tucked away. No point giving away all of our leverage. Triven showed no sign of surprise as I laid out the weapons. I wondered if he knew I had them the whole time or if he just was better at hiding his feelings than I thought. I stepped away from the table to let The Master— or Xavier or whatever the hell his name was— inspect my offerings.
His expression was not so convincing. There was a spark in his eyes as he ran his hands over the weapons in turn, lifting the gun and flipping the knives in his hands. Every time his hands moved I could feel Triven tense behind me. But I wasn’t worried. If he had wanted us dead we would be already.
“You found the way in?” His eyebrows rose in disbelief.
I shook my head. “That is why we are here to see you.”
“The only way I know into The Sanctuary was sealed off long ago. I cannot help you.” He stepped back from the weapons, still gazing longingly at them.
“There were maps you used to have.” His fierce glare told me I had hit a nerve, I wasn’t supposed to remember that.
“Those maps are not for trade.” He narrowed his eyes. “Besides what could two children like you want with them?”
I snarled at his use of the word children. Triven spoke before I could lash out.
“The Subversive is rising. We plan to overthrow The Minister and take back what is ours.”
Or just escape Tartarus. I thought to myself.
“I would love to see The Minister fall…” Xavier pondered. “His misery would bring me great joy. But these measly weapons you offer are not worth my maps.”
I reached inside my bag and pulled out the silver coated bomb, letting my fingers trace over its flawless surface. His eyes lit as they watched my fingers.
“We may be able to strike a deal after all.”
Fifteen minutes later, the maps were safely folded into my backpack and we were back outside on top of Xavier’s building. I was ready to leap to the next rooftop, anxious to get to a safe house and examine the maps in greater detail, but Triven had paused.
“If we move on the city, will you join us?” He asked Xavier.
The man I had known as The Master clapped a large hand over Triven’s shoulder and shook his head.
“I have no desire to kill one ruler just to be forced under the thumb of another. I am the only ruler I need. The maps are dated and won’t tell you everything, but they are a start. If my sources are correct— and they usually are— you need to seek out the Ravagers’ meeting place, a building in the upper west quadrant. All I ask is that you remember my trade with you was fair and leave me to myself when the time comes.” He turned to me. “You’re still one of the best naturals I have met, but don’t get sloppy. If you need refining, you know where to find me.”
I nodded respectfully and we set out across the rooftops once more.
On any normal night, I would have rolled my dice and headed for a random safe house, but tonight was different. Other Subversive guards now occupied several of my safe houses and our goal was to place ourselves near the next target, which didn’t leave us many options. To narrow it down further, there were some places I could barely fit into, and there was no way Triven’s larger frame could maneuver the cramped access routes. We passed through the night unseen, but I was on edge. I had to remind myself that this is how I had lived for so many years, a shadow on the rooftops, that it was normal. The only difference was I had never done it with someone else. As we ran I narrowed our options down to two places, the old transport station or the clock tower. Last time I had stayed at the transport station several Scavengers were sniffing around for scraps. I loathed their vile stink. Even the thought of them triggered my gag reflex.
The clock tower it was.
At an earlier time, the jump to the dilapidated tower would have been impossible. But during some point of the world’s decay a nearby building had fallen into its side, giving someone with nimble feet, like me, the perfect approach. While I moved lithely over the crumbled stones, I could hear Triven’s progression slow down. I waited a little impatiently for him before leaping up to the next ledge and pulling myself over. He landed next to me panting.
“You’re lucky you’re so small. I was worried that rubble wouldn’t hold my weight.” He pressed his hands to his knees.
“Almost there. Come on, we can rest once we’re inside.” I chided him.
The tower was just as I had left it. It was a large room with four round glass windows on each wall. They were three times my height and frosted an aged white. I am sure at some point they were beautiful and illuminated but now they were merely stained with dirt and decay. A few roman numerals still clung to the outside faces, while rusted gears protruded inwards. You could just make out the clock hands on the other side. We couldn’t light a torch in here for fear of being seen, but the room just up the spiral staircase was invisible to the outside.
“Home sweet home.” I murmured as we entered the windowless maintenance room and lit the torch.
“How often did you live here?” Triven asked as he ran his fingers over the food preserves I had stashed on a shelf.
“Only sometimes. It’s merely one of my safe houses. You know, a different one every night.” I shrugged, feeling self-conscious. But his eyes were warm and admiring as they fell on me.
“This is amazing. You’re amazing.”
I flushed and began rifling through my bag for another torch. “Anyone would have done this. It’s just about surviving, that’s all.”
When I rose, his chest was right in front of me. I looked up at him as his hand reached for my face, but he stopped just before touching me.
“No Prea, most people would have just given up and let the city consume them. You, however, have made this city yours. You bent it to your will and took control of your own destiny. You are amazing.”
I pressed my face to his palm, closing the gap between us. The instant my skin touched his, his lips found mine. And for the first time in my life I let myself forget that I was in the city of Tartarus.
WHEN I AWOKE there was light seeping in from under the closed door. I mentally kicked myself for not sealing it off properly last night. On my own, I would have never mad
e a mistake like that.
Triven’s arms were draped around me, his breath tickling my ear. I blinked at the unfamiliar daylight streaming in. This was the second time my nightmares had not plagued me. At first I thought maybe it had been whatever was in Cook’s hooch, but this time the only common factor was Triven.
We had spent the night in a feverish embrace, our lips never getting enough, but our romantic exploits stopped there. Not that we didn’t want more— we did— this just wasn’t the time or the place. And if I was being honest with myself, I wasn’t ready and somehow he knew that. I wasn’t sure I could let myself connect to another person that intimately. Sharing myself like that meant giving a piece of myself away, and right now I was barely holding onto the pieces I had left.
I pulled away from Triven, pausing as he mumbled in his sleep. Quietly, I grabbed the maps and headed back down to the clock room. A greenish light poured in from all of the opaque faces. I paused, drinking in the light. This was the closest I had come to seeing daylight in almost six years. I knew the sun of Tartarus was not the one of my childhood. Out here the atmosphere was tainted by decay. If I went outside, there would be no blue sky, or golden sun. Just haze and smog that tinged the sun’s rays a greenish brown. It was easier to stand behind the frosted glass clock faces and pretend the world outside was that of my childhood rather than to face the truth of my reality.
After spreading the two maps over the aged floor, I folded my knees beneath me and began to study the pressed pages. The Master had kept them in perfect condition, the delicate papers only tinged slightly with inevitable age. Even after all of the years I had stood on rooftops looking down on the city, it still seemed strange to see it from this view, from so high above. One map contained elaborate photographs of the city before it crumbled into Tartarus. Vehicles could be seen on the streets, people on the sidewalks, no protruding mountains or wastelands to be seen. The aerial projection seemed surreal. The buildings stood straight, the streets were whole, it seemed nothing like the city I knew. But hidden in the structured order was something familiar. Shapes, that while whole, triggered some kind of recognition.
The other map was hand-drawn in great detail. There was no mistaking the dense line that represented The Wall. Outside of the line was nothing, like the world there didn’t exist. Inside there were marked buildings. The Master had labeled the structures from his memory but to me the sketched buildings meant nothing. I was actually disappointed I couldn’t remember. Overlapping the two maps I joined the two worlds. The Wall seemed so much larger looking at it like this, so… impenetrable. That dark line was the only barricade between my past and my future. I traced the line. There were no tunnels, no hidden gaps in the heavy ink.
I pressed two fingers to my forehead and closed my eyes as I tried to visualize the maps in my mind.
I was sitting on top of the clock tower looking at the city below me, the city I knew. The buildings rose from the map in my mind like a popup book. The rubble and decay pressed against the impenetrable Wall. I could see it all. Placing my fingers on the map I traced the buildings as I visualized them. A creak on the stairs told me Triven was awake.
He was watching me, for how long before the old stairs gave him away I wasn’t sure. My fingers stopped as I met his eyes. The look in them brought a flush to my cheeks. He was wearing only an old grey stained tank top and his linen pants, his long-sleeved shirt removed sometime in his sleep. His bare skin was dark in the late daylight, the scars from years of surviving the streets prevalent against the otherwise smooth surface. His muscles flexed as he moved down the stairs towards me. A thin line of dried blood still clung to his neck where The Master had cut him last night. The warmth of his eyes was magnified in the strangely green fading light. He looked like a warrior, like a god. I pushed away the feelings stirring in my chest. He loved me. I could see it in his eyes. But did I feel the same way? It was easier to be angry, to be alone. Love was scary. It was opening myself up to possible pain. But as he folded himself next to me to examine the maps, I knew I wanted him here. I needed him here. But did that mean I loved him? Or was I just being selfish, wanting his love but not willing to give mine in return?
“Is it my imagination or does it seem like a lot of the Ravagers’ warehouses border The Wall?” Triven’s finger traced the same line mine had.
I glanced back down at the maps, thankful for the distraction. He was right. Even now where my finger lay frozen, it fell over the Ravagers’ food warehouse. In fact, six of their well-known hangouts fell along The Wall. I pulled my hand back as his came too close. He didn’t seem to notice. I watched as his fingers moved to the map of The Sanctuary.
“What was it like there?” My words were barely audible. I didn’t look up, but I could feel Triven’s eyes on me. It took him a minute to answer.
“I wasn’t much older than you when we left The Sanctuary. There are things that I remember clearly and other things that are hard to separate from the stories my mother has retold me over the years. There were good things though. I remember having friends, going to classes and learning. I remember blue skies and sunshine. We never went hungry or worried about shelter. Every person was provided food and a home to live in and in return every citizen contributed to society. It was supposed to be a utopia.” I looked up to find him smiling sadly as he stared at the map, but it faded quickly.
“But that was just a façade. Life there was…measured. Everything we did, from when we ate to what we wore to what jobs we could work, was controlled. There were rules that had to be adhered to and those few who did not, tended to disappear. We were controlled by fear. I remember a boy in one of my classes questioning Minister Fandrin’s leadership during a history lesson. The teacher lashed him in front of the class, saying the boy’s impertinence should be a lesson for us all. He said the student was lucky he was only a child or he would have been thrown out into Tartarus for treason.”
I felt my chest tighten as Triven’s eyes met mine. Something in his words resonated in my broken mind.
“Military personnel dominated our population. There isn’t a day I can remember where they weren’t present in our lives. Walking the streets, arresting miscreants, enforcing the peace.” He shook his head pensively. “That’s quite the oxymoron isn’t it? Enforcing peace. As a child I thought the military was there to keep us safe, to protect us from the monsters that were outside of The Wall. But now, I realize it was never about protecting us, it was about controlling us.” Triven sat back from the maps, chewing absently on his thumbnail as he got lost in his own memories.
My mind was whirling with information. I wished I could remember something, anything, that somewhere in my brain Triven’s words would trigger some of my lost memories, but there was nothing. My past was still just a void. My fingers unconsciously traced the scar hidden beneath my hair. To my surprise Triven’s fingers followed mine, his hand cupping my face as they traced over my scar.
“Do you think this is why you can’t remember?” Concern flared in his gentle features.
I shrugged, shaking my head as I pushed his hand away.
“It’s going to be dark soon, we should eat and get ready to leave. The building The Mas-Xavier told us about is not far from here. I would like to scope it out tonight. If we have to be out in the daylight to follow their movements I want to plan our hiding places. It’s better if we stack the odds in our favor.” I got up and stretched. “I’ll find us something to eat. See if you can get anything else from the maps.”
TWO HOURS LATER we were in motion again. As a precaution I packed up all of our things. Triven wanted to spend another night in the clock tower, but every particle of my being told me to move on. Too many years on the run had perhaps skewed my judgment on safety, but then again, it had also kept me alive.
The building was less than a mile from our hiding place and we made good time. Only once did we have to hide in the shadows as a group of Wraiths passed below us. I could hear the rattling of the human bones they wore
around their necks as grotesque trophies before we saw them. Based on their formation, they were hunting someone. I hoped it was not one of our own. When they passed we moved on.
I knew the building Xavier spoke of. It was in the middle of an old warehouse district by the decaying canal. The entire area reeked of sewage. Eventually we had to pause to drape cloths over our noses and mouths as the smell became too overpowering. To most people the building looked just like the other dilapidated buildings in the area, but to me it was clearly a hideout. Unlike the surrounding buildings, all the windows and doors had been sealed off. They were blocked with graffitied boards, fallen rubble, or wrought iron bars. What looked like clusters of trash were actually well-placed barricades. After two laps around the building we realized the only way in were the double doors at the back of the alley. We were going to have to enter on street level. This meant exposure.
I hated exposure.
Leaving our bags concealed in an air duct and heavily laden with weapons, we began to climb down toward the streets. As our feet touched the pavement, a pack of wild dogs howled in the distance. A shiver of fear ran down my spine and we hastened our steps. The door was hidden in the shadows, barely visible from ground level. Sliding behind the dumpster, Triven followed my lead. There were no bolts on the doors, no chains to keep the unwanted out. Only the Ravagers would be so intentionally careless.
Mirroring my movements, Triven pressed his ear to the door. Our eyes locked as we listened for something, anything. His hazel eyes were clear windows to his thoughts. Despite his calm pretense, worry and fear still swam in their depths. I wondered if he saw the same in my own. We waited nearly a minute, unmoving and barely breathing, but no sounds came from inside.
With a hesitant nod, I moved to open the doors. But as my hand reached for the handles, Triven’s fingers wrapped around my wrist holding me back. I snapped to his face to question him, but my words caught in my throat. His worried eyes had steeled. He firmly shook his head and pulled me behind him. I knew what he was saying. This wasn’t about being chivalrous or his pride. He was telling me I was more important, that my life was worth more than his. Pain rose in my chest as he pulled back the door and entered first.
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