The Dark Light (24 page)

There’s a playbook Willie and I had devised for moments such as this. It contained one tactic: deny everything.

I feigned a laugh. “Delane, you’re way off base. Sol? Come on.
Seriously?
”

“I’ve seen you,” said Delane.

“Seen me what?” I asked. “I need him to help me get my brother back. That is all.” I folded my arms, which felt too defensive, so I forced them back to my side.

Delane looked down toward the gates. I didn’t dare follow his gaze in case I caught sight of Sol and further betrayed my feelings.
Betrayed my feelings?
What was I even thinking about? It wasn’t as if there was anything between us. What Sol had said about Andy being lucky? He was just being nice. But I’d latched on to it like a fool. Where there could be no hope, I’d let hope grow.

“Mia . . .”

“What?”
I said, attempting another laugh. “Seriously, Delane. You’ve—”

“Made a mistake?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable. “Then you won’t mind if I tell you something.”

“Tell me what?” I asked, not sure I wanted to hear what he had to say.

“I’ve known Solandun all my life,” said Delane. “I know what his life in the West is like.”

“And what is it like?”

“It’s different,” he replied. “There have been lots of girls in his past—girls who’ve come and gone. He’s not looking to get tied down to anyone, especially someone from the Other Side. Mia, Solandun only thinks about defeating the Suzerain, securing the treaty, and having the Barrier sealed forever.”

And there it was again. The Barrier. Me on one side. Sol on the other.

“Mia, Solandun crossed the Barrier to protect the Ridge and to stop them from taking the boys. There was no other reason.”

Whether he knew it or not, he may as well have punched me in the gut. It would have hurt less. “Yeah,” I said, and this time I did fold my arms. “But he didn’t do a very good job of it, did he?”

* * *

Sol returned to find me on one side of the road and Delane on the other. We’d been that way for—I don’t know—twenty
minutes? As each minute had passed, I’d sunk deeper and deeper into a black mood I couldn’t shake off.

“How’d it go?” I asked Sol as casually as I could, aware of how Delane might misinterpret every word or gesture.

“Better than we could have hoped,” Sol replied. “Malone’s men are already here. A gang from Fortknee saw them pass about an hour ago.”

“And how’s that better than we hoped?” asked Delane.

“Because the Suzerain isn’t here,” said Sol. “And he won’t return until tomorrow.”

“Then we’ve got time.”

Sol nodded. “Malone’s gang will have to wait to hand over the Solenetta.” He took a deep breath. “But there is a problem.”

“Only one?” I asked. This being Brakaland, I highly doubted it would be a small one.

“For now,” said Sol. “I’ve been talking with some Runners at the gate. They say Malone’s messenger told the guards that a group of three escaped the Bordertown sentinels and could be heading this way. The guards and the gang are looking out for us.”

That
was
a big problem. “Isn’t there another way in?” I asked.

“There are other gates, but they’re equally risky. That’s why I wanted to arrive here first. It’s the reason we cut through the valley. It will all be for nothing if we’re arrested at the gates.”

I stared at the towers and my resolve stirred. Mooning over
Delane’s warnings wouldn’t get Jay or the Solenetta back. Soon this would all be over, and what would it matter how I felt about Sol when I was back on the Other Side? What had Delane said? Girls come and go. Brothers were forever. That’s when I came up with my plan.

“Then we should split up,” I said. “They’re looking for a party of three. We’ll go in one by one.”

“And how do you intend to get past those guards?” asked Delane.

A small group in jeans and jackets and sweatpants passed us on the road. “Orion’s a trading post, right? It’s full of Runners.”

“Go on,” said Delane.

“Then we play to my strengths. It’s a Runner’s job to know the Other Side. And who here knows the Other Side better than me?”

“It’s risky,” said Delane, once I’d filled them in on the details of my plan.

“It’s perfect,” I replied. “It’ll work.”

For once, Sol was on my side. “Wait for us outside Morningstar Stables. It’s opposite the gates; you can’t miss it. Huge yellow sign.”

“Morningstar Stables,” I said, with a nod.

“Don’t talk to anyone but the guards. We don’t want to push our luck. Take this, too,” he added. He handed me a squishy Snickers from his pocket. “It might work on the guard if he gets
testy. And take care.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and squeezed.
“Please.”

I didn’t want Sol to let go. But I had a point to make to Delane: Mia Stone was in Brakaland to rescue her brother, not to mope over some guy.

“Okay,” I said, and reached for my pack. “Now turn around. I need to change.”

I admit, my plan was genius. That it also meant dumping the dress was like the double chocolate frosting. But I was nervous. Very nervous. This was the first time I’d be alone in Brakaland, and success hinged on my performance. Stumble, and the audience wouldn’t pelt rotten fruit, they’d clap me in irons. I ran through everything Sol and Delane had told me. Be calm. Stay relaxed. Act like you belong here.

I walked the road to the gate, just little old me among the gangs of seasoned Runners. I knew Sol and Delane watched but I resisted the urge to check back. They were alone and it was a perfect opportunity for Delane to tell Sol that he suspected I had feelings for him. It didn’t ease my nerves.

The closer I got to the gates, the less I thought my plan a work of genius. There were no sentinels, but the guards, though smartly dressed in uniforms of gray, appeared little friendlier than their brutish Bordertown counterparts. I’d already seen them turn two people back.

“Next.”

Two guys approached the gates. I could hear little of their conversation beyond the noise that rang from Orion. It was busy in there, much busier than Bordertown. Though the streets were partially visible beyond the gates, I couldn’t yet see the stables. But, boy, had I taken Crowley’s advice to heart. I trusted Sol without question. The stables would be there. I prayed that I could find them.

“Next.”

That meant me. I approached the guard, a lanky character of about Pete’s age.

“Name.”

“Poppy Fellows,” I said. It had been Sol’s idea. I wondered if Poppy might have been one of the girls who’d “come and gone.”

“Where you headed?”

“Rickter’s,” I replied, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Got something for him to see.”

The guard’s eyes narrowed. “Are you a Runner? You talk funny.”

Okay. We’d prepped for this one. “I spend a lot of time on the Other Side,” I said, trying not to sound as if I read from a script.

He was suspicious, I knew it. Time for Plan B. I took my cell phone from my jacket pocket and flashed it at the guard. His
manner immediately switched. “I haven’t seen one of those for a while.”

“It’s a good one too,” I said, doing my best
QVC
demonstration. “Normally I wouldn’t come this way, but I heard Rickter’s been getting these to work. Worth twenty times more, then.”

He eyed my crappy old phone as if it were a Rolex watch.
Moron.
I mean, it wasn’t even a smartphone!

“Are you from Bordertown?”

“Fortknee.” Another of Sol’s lies. “Bordertown’s flooded with Runners. I’d rather sell my stuff without Duddon Malone fleecing the profits.”

The guard snorted. “We’ve had more of his lot already today.”

“Well, they won’t get their hands on this.” I snapped the handset shut.

The guard stepped back. Orion beckoned. “Let me know if they get that thing to work. I’ve never seen one that actually does.”

I didn’t hang around long enough for the guy to have second thoughts about Poppy the Runner and her busted cell phone; the priority was to get out of his sight and reach the stables. Only, it looked as if that might be easier said than done.

I’d emerged onto a fan-shaped concourse, about half the area of a football field, constructed of sand-colored flagstones, which radiated out from the gates. On either side loomed Orion’s curved white walls, though the curve didn’t seem as pronounced from
the inside. A line of shops and stores had been built in the wall’s shadow, crooked little places with roofs of different heights. At first glance, I saw a pottery shop, a dress store, and what had to be a butcher, judging by the carcass hanging in the window.

Traders, with multicolored awnings above their carts and stalls, filled the concourse. Their cries rang as they hustled their wares. Someone, somewhere, was grilling, the scent a mixture of bacon and beef. Having eaten only Snickers since I’d left Crownsville, my stomach growled.

I headed toward a cluster of buildings with narrow streets between them. Each street I passed was different. One, barely ten feet wide, ran long and straight with rows of three-story town houses on either side, each painted a different color—lemon, lilac, sky blue, peach. The next street was covered by a sandstone roof, and beyond the arched entryway, the dim tunnel inside was lit by flickering lanterns. A green and white mosaic paved another street.

There was no sign of the stables, so I cut back toward the center of the market, dodging traders and their customers, recognizing some as races I’d seen in Bordertown.

I pushed on, only the tops of the gates visible behind me, when a couple passed on horseback. I followed them to a wide arch between two white buildings. A straw-strewn courtyard lay beyond. A yellow sign hung from the archway: Morningstar Stables. Bingo.

Alongside the stables ran a wide road. At one end of the road were the gates, at the other, the Velanhall. I stopped. Even from a distance of about twenty blocks, its towers loomed over Orion. I wished Jay knew I was coming for him.

“One hurdle at a time, Mia.”

I stifled a scream. Sol had crept up behind me, his horse at his side. I studied his face, praying Delane hadn’t told him that the girl from Crownsville might be harboring a secret crush. To my relief, Sol didn’t look like he knew.

“I can’t stop thinking about him up there,” I said. “I feel like I should be doing something.”

“You are,” said Sol. “More than most ever would.” He turned back to his horse and withdrew my sword from his pack. “You forgot this.”

I took it, used to the weight, though it still felt clunky in my hands. “It’s probably time I gave up pretending I can use this,” I said, and handed back the sword. “We’re not destined to be together.”

Our hands touched and I realized how prophetic my statement was. I held on for maybe a second too long before releasing the sword to Sol’s steady hand.

Not destined to be together?

Willie loved symbolic moments.

This one sucked.

* * *

We headed deep into Orion, on the east side of town. I kept an eye on Delane, who’d yet to speak a word to me since we’d regrouped. I didn’t want bad blood between us. I’d never been one to hold a grudge. It wasn’t his fault that he’d noticed the feelings I thought I’d hidden. He’d been doing me a favor, really, warning me off Sol. A favor my rational self completely understood, even if my stupid hormones didn’t want to hear it.

But our earlier conversation didn’t seem to be on his mind as we wandered Orion’s back streets. Delane straightened his shirt about five times. When he ducked to catch his reflection in a window, I couldn’t help but ask, “Are you checking your hair?”

He couldn’t have thought I wouldn’t notice.

“What? No.”

Sol glanced back and smiled. Really, I couldn’t let this pass. “You are,” I teased. “You’re fussing with your
hair
.”

“No.”
He stopped, and then shrugged. “But how do I look?”

“Like a guy who spent a night on the road,” I replied, confused. “Don’t think you can change that now.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.”

But whatever it was Delane preened for, he’d run out of time. Sol stopped at a door in the middle of a terrace of town houses. He unstrapped his pack and rummaged inside.

“What is this place?” I asked. The house was constructed
from dark gray stone and stood three stories tall. Tiny windows, embellished with stained-glass inlays of plants and flowers, peppered the front.

“It’s home to a member of the Sons of the West,” said Sol. “We use it whenever we’re in Orion.”

He took from his pack a white oval disc, which he placed into a recess beside the door, then covered with both his hands.
Click.
As easily as that, we were inside. I followed Sol and Delane, happy for them to provide a buffer for whatever shock might come next.

Inside, the house was nothing like Rip’s. In fact, it was like nothing I’d seen in Brakaland. We entered a hallway where elaborately framed mirrors hung over swathes of purple gossamer fabric. A floral scent carried through the air, rose or lavender, heady and sweet. To the left was a staircase illuminated by candles, which sat on ledges.

I hung back with Delane, but Sol strode to a closed door at the end of the hall, and without knocking, entered a second room. A light, breathy squeal followed.

“Guess she’s home,” said Delane, with a grin wider than the Cheshire Cat’s. “Get ready to meet Vermillion Blue.”

Intrigued, I followed to the next room. Stronger floral scents floated through the doorway. There were more breathy squeals. I stepped inside.

And then my jaw just about hit the ground.

V
ermillion Blue didn’t look much like a
Son
of the West to me.

She was supermodel tall and blessed with the kind of curves usually reserved for the calendars that hung at Reggie West’s Motor Repair and Salvage. And she was blue. Well, a silvery gray, which caught the light and was as flawless as an airbrusher’s dream. Scarlet hair, lustrous and thick, tumbled to her waist. It shone like nothing I’d ever seen. If Vermillion Blue ever set foot in the States, she’d get one hell of a lucrative contract with Pantene.