Nightingale (26 page)

There’s a collective gasp from the crowd.

“Annalise,” Mother says softly. “Take Lark and Ryker to the Agriculture Center. I’ll continue to the Regional Office with my guards.”

Immediately, Annalise is at my side. “I thought you were coming with me,” I say to Mother as Annalise and my other guards form a wall around me.

The crowd jostles us and Mother holds up her hands. “Peace, good people. I’m here to address your concerns.” Even though she continues to smile, I sense fear rolling off her. Like a slowly deflating balloon, the crowd relaxes and Mother turns to me.

“I’m needed elsewhere.”

“Mother, I’d rather—”

She holds up her hand, cutting me off. “Go, now, Love. I’ll see you shortly.”  She doesn’t give me time to argue before she strides across the platform in the opposite direction of where Annalise guides me.

Scorching wind whips through the station. Overhead, clouds blow in, blotting out the relentless sun and the air crackles with electricity.

Oliver bends closer to me and whispers, “Gather the magic closer to your heart and hold it there. It will give you better control.”

I want these people to leave.

The skies open and rain pelts us. The crowd scatters, taking shelter under meager over-hangings. With a satisfied grin, I nod at Oliver. “Much better.”

Now that our path is clear, my group crosses the length of the platform and exits out onto an empty street. 

Once outside, Kyra raises her eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

I feel great, other than a little spooked, but not out-of-control. I wiggle my fingers at her and laugh. “I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”

The euphoric feeling I get from magic floods my system and I skip down the block. Behind me, Kyra laughs.

But no one else does.

I stop mid-hop and jump around. “What’s wrong?” I demand.

To my surprise, Ryker stomps toward me. “People are hungry and you’re skipping around acting like it’s all a joke.”

Behind him, Annalise watches us with her steely blue eyes. The rest of my guards appear tense and ready to fight.

“Surely it wasn’t that bad?”

He gapes at me. “Are you so delirious you can’t see what’s around you?”

For the first time, I notice our surroundings. The burnt out buildings. The crumbling streets. The dank smell of waste. It looks like a scene out
of
pre-Long Winter times when the world was in chaos. “What happened here?”

“Riots.” Oliver’s voice vibrates down the vacant street and the hair on the back of my neck pricks up.

My sister-in-law jerks her head to the side. “Let’s go.”

Ryker scowls at me and his eyes are full of disappointment. He hefts my bag over his shoulder and strides briskly after Annalise.

My heart sinks as I realize my mistake.

Ryker’s keeping score and I just lost a point.

28

Armed Enforcers surround the Agriculture Center and as we get closer, Rykers’s posture becomes more rigid, his stride more brisk. He’s supposed to be accompanying me on official consort business, but he’s shifted into Enforcer mode.

Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at him and the hair on my arms pricks up. His almond-shaped eyes hold no emotion. They’re dark, cold, and lethal.

He’s no longer Ryker, my friend, but rather Ryker, the assassin.

“Is everything okay?” he asks in a monotone voice. He keeps his head up, sweeping his gaze from side-to-side.

“You’re not here as my consort, are you?” I mutter so no one else can hear.

“Not here, Lark.”  He says this softly, almost like a whisper, but there’s a sharpness in his voice, and it sends chills through me.

As we approach the Ag Center checkpoint, my guards tighten their circle around me until I can barely take a step without bumping into one of them. Ryker strides up to the front and flashes his wristlet at the Enforcer guarding the entrance.

The man’s wristlet beeps three times. He swings his attention away from Ryker, to me, and back to Ryker. “Enforcer Newbold, you’re not on duty.”

“I’m traveling with Lark,” Ryker responds, grasping the man’s forearm in greeting. “Per her mother’s instruction.”

“That’s wise.” The Enforcer begins scanning my other guard’s wristlets. When he gets to me, he doesn’t make contact, but I notice the way his hand trembles. Something about me, or us being here, upsets him.

Once he motions us through, we hurry down a stark white hallway until we’re spit out into a massive greenhouse. It’s easily four hundred yards in circumference. Alternate plots of dirt lay fallow and the ones that are producing look anemic. This can’t possibly be all the food the State is producing?

A man rushes toward us with a tablet in hand. “Annalise? I’m Crispin Salter, Head of the Ag Center.”

Both Dawson and Ryker step in front of me, and I roll my eyes. “Surely inside a State building there is no threat,” I chide.

Dawson keeps his posture rigid. “There is threat everywhere. Especially in a greenhouse full of Light witches.”

I recoil. It’s the harshest he’s spoken to me since I foolishly rushed into the battle with the Splinter group. Heat works its way up my neck and into my face. Like a chastised schoolgirl, I stare at the ground.

Oliver paces the perimeter of the closest field. He motions to Ryker, and my mate jogs off after him. My guard juts his chin toward something in the rafters. Ryker tilts his head in consideration before disappearing.

When I look up to where Oliver indicated, Ryker’s crawling across ceiling beams.

“What’s he doing?” I ask no one in particular.

Kyra says. “Assessing the area for snipers.”

My mouth drops open. “What?”

Ryker swings from one rafter to the next, and even from here, I can see the bulge of his arm muscles through his skin-tight shirt. He kicks his feet up and lands on a platform.

Once he’s steady, a short series of whistles wafts down to us.

“It’s secure,” Kyra says.

“And you know that because he whistled?”

She huffs. “In the field we rely on verbal cues first and technology second.”

“He’s looking for snipers?” I repeat, more to myself than anyone else. It seems ridiculous, and yet, I know it’s necessary.

“Lark,” Annalise calls from where she stands with Crispin Salter. “You’re to work with
him
today.”

Crispin clenches his jaw. “I have a name.” He walks over to me and stiffly offers his hand. “A pleasure. Henry’s told me much about you.”

“Oh? You know Henry?” I try to not let my surprise show, but fail.

“Henry frequently visits.” Crispin’s face pulls into a stiff, unnatural smile. “Although I haven’t seen him in several weeks.”

I stare off at the empty fields. A few workers take measurements and push carts of farming supplies, but it’s hardly the active hub I imagined. “Henry’s at my mother’s. His friend Eloise was injured and is convalescing there.”

“Are her injuries serious?” There’s a hint of panic in Crispin’s voice.

“Not anymore.”

He points out at the vast interior. “Shall we?”

I wait for my guards to give permission. Ryker has come down from the rafters and stands near Annalise and Oliver where the three of them study a tablet Annalise holds. I clear my throat and their heads pivot in unison. “Can I go to work?”

“The area is secure. Ping if you need anything,” Annalise says, resuming her work.

After our dramatic entrance, it feels almost like a let-down to be wandering off with a man I just met. Granted, my guards can see me from pretty much anywhere in the building, but still.

I push all thoughts of snipers and food riots from my mind, and let the excitement of being here take its place. The smell of freshly churned dirt fills my nose. This is the life I imagined, only instead of having Beck by my side, I have Ryker —a guy who swings from rafters and kills people as a career.

Could be worse, I guess.

I grin. There are no prying eyes to prevent me from using magic. No appearances to maintain. I can just be myself.

#

I stretch my back and survey our work. In just a few hours, Crispin and I have planted and harvested six fields. Huge heads of cabbage, long green beans, tall stalks of corn. It won’t feed the entire Society, but it’s a start. Perhaps it’s even enough to help calm the riots.

“Can you plant one more today?” Crispin asks. In the two days I’ve been here, he hasn’t said much to me beyond instructions. The way the Light witches, the ones who haven’t fled, eye me with suspicion reminds be of being at Summer Hill.

“Of course.” I pick up the seed spreader and wedge it into the ground. “What do you want here?”

“Rice,” he grunts. “We’ll have to flood the field when you’re done.”

I drop a seed into the spreader. With a wave of my hand, the entire row sprouts tiny buds. I lift the spreader from the ground and repeat the process until the whole field is planted. Then I stand at the edge and imagine a flood covering the dirt. Instantly, water covers everything. Feeling exhausted, I step back and wipe my brow.

“You need to get it to grow and harvest it, too,” Crispen says, dryly.

“I know.” The back of my neck aches. “I need a minute to let my magic rest. I’m not used to using this much.”

He squats and jabs a stick into the freshly tilled dirt. Since being here, it’s become clear
why
Mother didn’t send me to the Ag Center even though I had the aptitude: the Light witches who work here don’t want my help. In fact, I think it’s fair to say Crispin wishes I would leave. The sooner the better.

“Heya, Lark,” Ryker says as he jogs over to me. My heart flutters at the way his standard-issue Enforcer uniform compresses his already fit frame into something seemingly more muscular and lean.

My heart spasms and I grin.

Oh, God. What is
wrong
with me?

I scrunch up my forehead and press my lips together. Other than on the day we arrived, Ryker hasn’t come to the Ag Center. Instead, he spends his days doing things he refuses to tell me about and at night, he doesn’t come back to our room until I’m fast asleep.

Not that I mind. I’m still not use to sharing a room with him. He’s not as messy as Beck, but it feels like he takes up more space. Probably because he takes up one half of the bed. Something Beck never did.

“What are you doing here?” Every nerve in my body tingles, and I keep my eyes on the field, afraid that if I look at him, he’ll see the effect he’s having on me.

“I wanted to see you. When are you done?”

I lift my eyes and focus on Ryker’s smooth, tanned skin; high cheekbones; deep brown eyes. He looks like himself until he tilts his head to the side and gives me a grin I’d recognize anywhere.

Beck.

My hands fly to my mouth, trying to control the scream growing in my chest.

One. Two. Three.

Dirt swirls around my shins where I kick at the ground. Why is he so reckless? And where is Ryker? Surely he didn’t approve this idea. I know he wouldn’t.

When I turn around, Ryker—no, Beck—is biting his lip.

Are you stupid?

His face falls.
No. I thought about this.

I doubt it. And if he gets caught…My stomach rolls. This is so much worse than sneaking into my bedroom.

Through clenched teeth, I say, “I need to finish harvesting before I can leave. So maybe in an hour?”

Crispin grunts in confirmation.

Ryker/Beck straightens his back. “I’ll meet you at the house.”

He walks away. The ache in the back of my throat grows stronger.

Crispin points to the paddy of full-grown rice. “It’s time to harvest. You need to drain the water and dry it out.”

With a bowed head, I lift my index and middle finger toward the field, and allow magic to swirl within me. When I exhale, the water evaporates and a brisk wind rustles the rice stalks.

An hour later, after the field is harvested, I gather my things. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Hmpf.”

“Have a nice evening.” I shuffle off toward the rest area where my guards wait. I’m relieved when I notice Ryker isn’t with them. Still, if he’s not here, and Beck is at the house waiting for me, where is he?

My finger twitches over my wristlet. “Ryker Newbold,” I whisper.

“Classified.”

I scowl. Either he’s out on official business or he’s somehow blocked me from seeing his location. Either way, it doesn’t calm my nerves.

When they see me, Oliver and Dawson jump to their feet, but Kyra yawns and flips up a weird device she has strapped over her eye.

“Where’s Annalise?” I ask.

“Malin needed her.” There’s a red ring around Kyra’s eye.

I point at the device. “What is that thing?”

She tosses it in the air and catches it. “Something new. It’s called an eyepiece. It lets me see conferences and lectures. And your mother. All very boring, but extremely necessary according to Annalise.”

“Fascinating.” I adjust the strap of my satchel against my shoulder. “I’m done for the day.”

Instead of walking to the estate where we’re staying, we transport. With the riots and general unease, it’s not safe for me to be out on the streets.

As soon as we land in the foyer, my heart goes into overdrive, sputtering and flipping. Which means one thing: Beck’s here. And Ryker is still MIA.

Kyra stares out the double French doors that lead to the garden. “That’s weird. Why is Ryker outside, reading a book? Shouldn’t he be at work?”

I search for a reason. “Didn’t you see him at the Ag Center? He came by to tell me he had the afternoon off.”

She gives a sideways glance at Oliver. He shrugs.

Beck has to leave before Ryker—the real Ryker gets home. He’s going to get all of us in trouble. 

Muggy summer air lodges in my lungs when I step outside. Across the lush green lawn, Beck lounges against a pergola reading a book.

The wind catches his shaggy hair and tousles it. The sleeves of his Enforcer uniform are pushed up to his elbows and his chest muscles strain against the tight fabric. He looks handsome.

As Ryker.

Beck.

I guess it looks nice on Ryker who is really Beck? If I find Beck attractive when he’s masking as Ryker, does that mean I find Ryker attractive? Or am I only finding him attractive because I know it’s Beck?

I sigh. This is going to make me crazy.

Beck’s so lost in his book, he doesn’t notice me as I scuttle down the pebbled walkway. I pluck a purple flower from a hydrangea plant and fold my fingers over the delicate petals. I imagine a butterfly like the one Eloise created all those months ago. Only I don’t plan on turning this one into an apple and eating it.

Soft wings brush against my palm and I release the creature. It flits across the grass toward Beck and lands on his book. He raises his eyes slowly, his smile growing and growing until I’m afraid it’s going to swallow his face.

“You’re home.” He says it so naturally. Like this is normal for us.

I stay on my side of the hydrangea bush. All I want is to feel his arms around me, taste his lips on mine, and never, ever have to worry about hurting him.

But that’s not realistic.

I kick off my sandals and scrunch my toes in the cool grass.
You need to leave.

He frowns and sets his book aside.
Is that what you want?

My chin crumples.
I don’t want to hurt you.

I surprised you earlier and you didn’t attack me.
He’s so calm and sure of himself. It’s the complete opposite of my ragged breath.

To my left, near the house, Annalise has joined Kyra and Oliver. They maintain their distance, giving Ryker and me privacy.