Gates of Thread and Stone (12 page)

The description fit Reev well—my indestructible big brother. Not once in all the years I’d been with him had I seen him hurt or sick.

“What does it do?” I asked, gesturing to his neck.

“The collars are like magnifiers. They seek out whatever traces of magic remain inside us and enhance them so that we can work harder and tire less. After Ninu is done with us—” His gaze slid away. “Can’t really say how much of what’s left is human.”

“Of course you’re human,” I said. Because Reev was human, too.

G-10 looked as if he wanted to smile, but he smothered it behind a spoonful of soup. After swallowing, he said, “The collars also connected us to Ninu. He sent us commands with a thought, and if we disobeyed an order, he could kill us immediately.”

“Charming guy,” Avan said.

“Disobedience was rare. Most sentinels exist only to obey Ninu,” G-10 said bitterly.

“My brother, Reev, who we came here to find, has a collar like yours. He never told me what it meant,” I said.

G-10 looked impressed. “I’ve never heard of anyone escaping Ninu before, not without the Rider’s help.”

Reev had possessed a collar for as long as I could remember, which meant he’d been a sentinel since before he’d found me. He must have been so young when Ninu found him the first time. Then, somehow, he had escaped the Kahl on his own.

“If he was already one of them, what’ll they do to him now that they’ve caught him?” The possibilities made me ill. If I’d known that Reev was in hiding, I would have been more careful. I would have used my powers less. Why hadn’t he trusted me?

“Since he’s already escaped once, Ninu will probably brand him with a new collar, one that’ll completely burn his mind.” G-10 said it so matter-of-factly, as if his words hadn’t just shattered me. “Your brother will no longer exist.”

The flimsy wooden spoon snapped in my hand. I dropped the broken pieces. Avan grasped my hand before I could hide it in my lap. He rubbed his thumb against the stinging skin—another mark to add to my collection—and I closed my eyes, letting the motion soothe me.

“But how did they find him again?” Avan asked. “Reev was pretty well hidden in the Labyrinth.”

“Ninu found most of us through blood donations,” G-10 said.

I grew still. “What?”

He gave me a shrewd look. “Ninu’s energy drives. I didn’t find out until I came here. The blood is used to create energy stones, but Ninu also has it tested for traces of magic. We have just enough magic to identify us, nothing we’d notice on our own.”

My head spun. “But Reev has never . . .”

The day I was attacked, Reev mentioned an energy drive. But he wouldn’t have— He promised not to— I covered my face, my breath coming fast and broken against my fingers. He
promised.
Why would he do it after promis—

And then it hit me. He’d done it for the same reason I had considered it: to pay the tax. The tax notice I couldn’t find, because Reev had gotten it first.

I finished eating on autopilot. Avan noticed the shift in my mood, but I brushed away his questions. Keeping my promise to the prostitute, I asked G-10 if he knew anyone named Tera, but he said he didn’t. It made sense. If Reev wasn’t here, then there was little chance the other kidnapped people were—unless, like G-10, they’d been rescued from Ninu’s ranks.

After lunch, G-10 offered to give us a tour of the fortress. The tour lasted hours because G-10 lost his bearings in the new wings that were constantly popping up at the edges, like what we’d seen earlier with Irra. Once G-10 found a familiar hallway again, he scratched his head, embarrassed, and took us to the dormitory floor above the mess hall.

He gave us neighboring rooms. Mine felt like a cave. The walls were rough stone, and only a few tattered rugs covered the floor. Against the wall were a narrow bed and a standing lamp. A sliver of a window had been set too high up for anyone to look through, but it brought in some natural light.

The room was half the size of my place in the Labyrinth, but it felt far emptier.

I grabbed my bag and left. Avan opened his door after the first knock.

“Can I stay with you?”

At first, he didn’t react. Then his mouth curved into a slow smile that made my heart jump to attention.

“Not like that,” I said. “I just . . . I . . .” I felt stupid admitting I didn’t want to be alone.

Still looking amused, Avan swung the door wide. His room was identical to mine, including the narrow bed against the wall.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” I said.

“You can have the bed.” He pulled some clothes out of his pack and wadded them against his stomach. “I’m going to wash up.”

I waited until he’d left before digging out my own clothes and heading for the girls’ bathhouse on the floor below. There was an aisle with private stalls on either side, closed off with sliding curtains. The bathhouse had a pleasant humidity from all the steam and was filled with the raised voices of girls trying to have a conversation above the sound of running water.

A girl wrapped in a towel with dark-red hair piled on top of her head was coming down the aisle. I moved aside, but she stopped when she saw me.

“Hey! You’re the new girl,” she said. She had pretty golden skin and a warm smile. “I’m Hina.”

“Kai,” I said. Apparently, word of new arrivals spread quickly.

“Nice to meet you, Kai.” Hina propped her arm against a stall divider, looking perfectly comfortable talking to a stranger in nothing but a towel. “You and your friend are the first people to make it out here without Irra’s help.”

“Really?” I tugged at the collar of my tunic. The humidity was beginning to make my clothes stick to my skin. “Does that mean we’re the only ones here who weren’t . . . you know, sentinels?”

“Pretty much,” Hina said. “We’re not really sure if others have tried, but we’ve found remains. The gargoyles get everyone who isn’t riding a scout.”

They almost got us, too.

“Anyway, catch you later?” she said, brushing a damp red strand from her cheek.

“Sure,” I said, and squeezed to one side of the aisle to let her pass.

I found an open stall and snapped the curtain shut. Then I undressed, bent over the spotted tub, and peered at the knobs.

Once the tub was full, I braced my hand against the slick wall and climbed inside.

There was only room enough to sit with my legs crossed, but the hot water felt heavenly. The water in the East Quarter bathhouses was either lukewarm or frigid depending on the time of year. I’d mastered the art of washing quickly. But here, I decided to take my time. The amount of dirt that had accumulated since leaving Ninurta was embarrassing, even by the Labyrinth’s standards. I dragged a soapy rag across my skin, scrubbing even after the dirt had been washed away.

The heat soothed the bruises, but it also made every scratch sting, including the new welt on my palm from when I snapped my spoon. Still, it was all easy to ignore as I rested my shoulders against the lip of the tub.

This didn’t seem like such a bad place. Etu Gahl. G-10 had said it meant “to exist in darkness” in whatever ancient language was native to the Infinite. I hoped it referred to the way the fortress could remain hidden from outsiders, but I doubted it.

My house is a place of forgotten things.

I wasn’t sure what Irra meant, but the memory sent a shiver through me despite the hot water. Still, the hollows seemed to be happy here. They had full stomachs, a roof over their heads, plenty of water, and a community of people who understood one another. I wished Reev
had
been brought here.

I dunked my head beneath the water, my eyes squeezed tight.

I’m sorry
. I didn’t know who my apology was meant for. Reev? Definitely. But maybe also for the woman who attacked me in that alley. Because if I had known then that it would lead to this—Reev kidnapped by Ninu, and Avan and me stuck outside Ninurta’s walls—I don’t know if I would have alerted the runners. It scared me to think it: that I might have left her to die instead.

Avan was wrong.
I don’t always do the right thing. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Back in Avan’s room, he had stacked the rugs into a makeshift bed on the floor and settled in with a threadbare blanket. His hair, still damp, clung to his neck in dark tendrils like the lines of his tattoo.

Without a word, I crawled onto the bed, on top of the covers, and leaned over to switch off the lamp. My stomach grumbled. I hadn’t been hungry when it was time to go down for dinner, and then I’d spent a long time in the bath.

“Kai,” Avan said, “have you . . .”

“Have I what?”

After a moment, he continued. “Have you considered the possibility that you might be like Irra?”

“I’m not like him. I can’t do anything like what he did.” I recalled how the walls shriveled at his touch. “And I really don’t want to.”

“What if you could find out for sure? Would you want to know?”

Something in his voice sharpened my attention. “Yes,” I said. “But what are you getting at?”

It was so quiet I could hear him breathing: slow, uneven breaths.

“Nothing,” he murmured. “I’m just thinking about everything Irra said.”

“A lot to take in,” I agreed.

“Yeah. You okay?”

No
. Reev had been found because of me. I should have just told him about the tax.

I reached over the edge of the mattress and was met by Avan’s fingers. Strong and reassuring, they laced through mine. I clutched his hand, afraid he’d let go. But he didn’t. Even after my body finally relaxed and my fingers grew slack, he held on.

“Kai,” Avan whispered sometime later.

My name sounded different when he said it: a tender, velvety quality that I wanted to wrap around me. But maybe that was just the film of sleep. I fought the drowsiness that curtained my eyes.

“Do you know what tomorrow is?”

I thought about it but couldn’t seem to focus on much more than the timbre of his voice. “No.”

“The first Day of Sun.”

I counted back the days. How could I have forgotten? Tomorrow, the clouds would clear for the first time in a year, just enough to get genuine sunshine.

The texts told of a time when the Sun had been a constant in the sky—when the weather had been both varied and volatile. After Rebirth, a pall of clouds had taken control of the sky. The storms grew more violent, the nights darker. For decades, the Sun became nothing but a memory for the people left behind. Maybe that, too, had been punishment from the Infinite.

Then one day, the clouds broke and sunlight slipped through—only for a minute. And every year after, the Sun had appeared a little bit longer. Now, the Sun remained for a week. I liked to think that someday it would stay.

During the Week of Sun, Reev and I would climb to the roof of the Labyrinth, the highest point in the East Quarter. We’d lay on top of the metal freight containers, warm from the Sun. When it grew too hot, we climbed down to the bridge to watch the light skip across the river, heat shimmering above the surface. At night, we returned to the roof to observe the stars, a billion little suns more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen, more beautiful even than the White Court with its ivory walls and silver banners.

That this week should happen now, without Reev to share in it, didn’t seem right.

“We’ll meet with Irra again in the morning,” Avan said. “Figure out what to do next. Then we’ll find a place to watch the Sun.”

The courtyard. I wanted to go
there
.

“Kai?”

I whispered, “Okay.”

CHAPTER 17

A RED BIRD
landed on a limb too high for me to reach. I didn’t even know birds came in red. I watched it hop along the branch, a clear tune warbling from its beak.

Beside me, Avan tilted his head to get a better view and said, “I didn’t know they came in red.”

I smothered a laugh. We stood beneath the tree in the courtyard, waiting for the clouds to clear. Nearby, Irra flitted from flower to flower like a frantic bee, watering can in hand, talking to the plants too quietly for me to hear. I wouldn’t be shocked if the plants
could
hear him. In his other hand, he held clippers. He had yet to use them.

The sound of wheels rumbling over stone stole my attention from the red bird. A hollow wheeled a silver trolley up the path. The trolley looked ancient, all the corners rusted. The decay had eaten through the metal in some spots, leaving holes in the mottled silver bars. The trolley held a steaming kettle and three dainty cups.

Avan helped the hollow, a woman with gray-streaked hair, place the tray with kettle and cups on the table. She thanked him and then left with a fond glance at Irra.

“The hollows are servants, too?” I watched the woman as her trolley rattled away. Despite her apparent age, she walked with a straight spine and smooth steps. I’d noticed that about all the hollows—whether barely Academy age or silver haired with weathered skin, they looked to be in great physical shape.

“They do only what they wish,” Irra said as he put the tin watering can beside the path. “I make no demands of them.”

“We’re supposed to believe you’re a philanthropist?” I didn’t mean for it to be an accusation. “That is, I mean—”

“You have a right to your questions. I give my hollows a choice. Sanctuary and, to be frank, a chance at revenge—or return to Ninu and his sentinels.”

“The choice is obvious,” I said.

“Is it?” Irra asked. “Not everyone has accepted my offer to switch allegiances.”

Irra pulled out the wrought-iron chairs for us. As Avan’s hand touched the back of his seat, Irra’s clippers swiped at his forearm.

My gut lurched. Avan jerked away, shielding his arm with his body.

“What the drek are you doing?” I shouted at Irra before turning to Avan. “Let me see.”

He moved out of reach. “I’m fine.” He extended his arm to show me. His skin was perfectly unharmed. “See?”

I whirled on Irra. “What is wrong with you?” I snatched the clippers from him and tossed them into the grass.

Irra looked down at his empty hand, as if surprised. “My hand slipped. Forgive me.”

“Like hell.”

Avan sat, his fingers around my wrist tugging me down into my seat also. “It was an accident.”

With an apologetic smile, Irra poured the drinks. I glanced between the two of them, but they both seemed to have put the incident aside. Something was going on here.

Irra placed a cup in front of each of us. “Tea,” he said, and then began heaping piles of sugar into his own.

The tea smelled sweet and inviting, and although I had never had tea before, right now I didn’t want it.

“Your citizen IDs,” Irra said. “We’re going to replace them.”

“What?” I blurted. All Ninurtans were required to carry an ID—a metal card issued by the registry. Mine was at the bottom of my bag in the room Irra had given me. “Why?”

“You’re the first civilians to leave Ninurta in a century. They’ll do everything they can to identify you. The safest way to get into Ninurta is with a new identity.”

“You can get us back in?”

Irra blithely dumped more sugar into his cup. His demeanor had changed from when we’d first met. He still seemed a bit frayed, but the silent threat hidden beneath his peculiarities felt dampened. If I hadn’t known who he was, hadn’t seen and felt his power compressing around me and
into
me, I might have believed he was as unremarkable as any human.

“Well, of course,” he said. “Unless you’d prefer to stay here?”

“No! I— If you can get us in, that would . . . that would be great.” I wasn’t trapped here. I could still find Reev. Hope swelled inside me, but I had to be sure of what he was offering.

“What do you want in return?” Avan asked. His question cut short my inner celebration.

“Not much,” Irra said. “Just information.”

I tapped my fingernail against the side of my cup. “What kind of information?”

“G-10 has filled me in on the details of your brother’s situation. Whatever knowledge Reev might have from his time with Ninu would be adequate. And since I imagine Ninu will rebrand him, I should like to study his new collar. If you return successfully, of course.”

He meant to treat Reev no differently than he treated the other sentinels who’d joined him. I couldn’t see any reason not to take the deal. Besides, what else could I do? I wasn’t exactly swimming in options.

With a glance at Avan, who didn’t object, I said, “Okay. I’m in.”

“Won’t they know if a new ID shows up in the registry?” Avan asked.

“Not,” Irra said, holding up his spoon, “if it’s one that never left.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said.

“It will.”

My mouth pinched at his dismissive tone. “How am I supposed to find my brother if he’s in the White Court?”

“My hollows will place you among the cadets performing in the Tournament.”

“Wait, wait,” I said, putting up my hands. “What do you mean, ‘the Tournament’?”

“If you want access to the areas in which Reev is most likely to be, then you can’t be civilians. And we can’t throw you in as Watchmen, either, because the ranks are meticulously run. Entering you as cadets is the safest route.”

Avan leaned forward. “But that would mean—”

“Yes!” Irra said, brandishing his spoon in excitement and sending flecks of tea flying. “Training. Better start now.”

“We have to wait until the Tournament begins?” I said. Who knew how much damage Ninu would do to Reev before I found him? Who knew what he had
already
done?

“It’s only two more weeks. And we have the time. Whatever Ninu decides to do with your brother, any alterations with permanent damage would require months to complete. Delicate organ.” He gestured at his head.

“Permanent damage,” I echoed.

“You keep focusing on the wrong details,” Irra said. “As to training—Kai, you possess unique abilities rooted directly in the River. It would be best not to showcase them.”

I stared at him from above the rim of my cup. How could he have known? I hadn’t done anything since the gargoyles chased us into the forest. I looked at Avan, who mirrored my wariness.

Admitting I was different still felt dangerous. Even if I was no longer in Ninurta. But I wanted to know what he meant—what if he had answers to the questions I’d always been afraid to ask?

“What river?” I asked cautiously. The only river still running that I knew of divided the East Quarter and the North District like a natural wall. And it wasn’t as impressive as the one made of stone and metal surrounding the White Court.

“
The
River,” Irra said. “The steady current over which Time keeps watch, in which all things flow. You must have been born of it.”

The threads. I brushed my mind against them. Yes, they flowed evenly, at the same pace—reliable, constant, ever present. Still, it remained a mystery how I could grasp and manipulate them.

My confusion was plain, because Irra added, “I don’t understand it myself.”

“How can you tell? That I’m different, I mean.”

“We each have our own gifts,” he said. “And you reek of the River.”

“I
reek
?” I tried not to sniff my shirt.

“Not literally,” he said. “It’s in your eyes. I can see the River reflected there.”

I stopped feeling self-conscious about the color of my eyes a long time ago—Reev made me realize that everyone was too caught up worrying about their own insecurities to see mine—but now I wanted to duck my head so Irra would stop staring at me.

“Does that mean I’m
mahjo
?”

But Irra had said they no longer possessed any real, usable magic, and I couldn’t do any of the things G-10 mentioned: I didn’t heal fast, I was too scrawny to have much muscle strength, and I was fast but not superhumanly so. Reev had never gotten sick, but I had, plenty of times.

Irra leaned over the table to peer directly into my eyes. Avan leaned forward a little as well. I tried not to move despite the awkwardness.

Then Irra shifted away and spooned more sugar into his tea. “No,” he said decisively.

I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. Beside me, Avan slowly relaxed into his seat.

“Then what am I?” I prompted.

“You,” he said, lifting his cup to his mouth, “are a conundrum.” He took a happy sip.

I slumped into my chair and sighed. “So you don’t know. Shouldn’t being Infinite mean having infinite knowledge?” I muttered.

“Eternity would be quite dull if that was true.”

“Can you at least tell us where to find Reev? Is there a sentinel barracks?”

“Unfortunately, Ninu keeps that sort of information to himself. I can’t break those particular enchantments without alerting him to my interference.”

The disappointment felt heavy in my chest, but I pushed it down. I’d find Reev the old-fashioned way: by searching. Inside the White Court, I’d have a better chance at success.

“I’ll find him,” I declared.

“And I’ll leave you to it. However, I do feel the need to repeat this again,” Irra said, and suddenly, his presence vibrated around me like an echo, plunging me into that same chilling emptiness of the Void. “In the Tournament, do
not
use your powers. No matter what.”