The White Rose (9 page)

“We need to get on the train,” Ash says. “And we can’t hide in this room waiting for it to come back.”

“You can’t go anywhere now, brother, all the buildings are locked,” Rye says. “Might as well stay here for the night.”

“This place is rotten,” Raven says. “I don’t like it here.”

“We’ll leave soon,” I say.

She moves to stand in front of one of the mirrors, staring at her reflection. “I let them take your eyes away,” she says to me. “Pluck them out like little jewels and offer them to me as gifts. They made me choose and I chose wrong, always, every time.” Raven strikes her fist against her temple twice before I grab her wrist to stop her.

“I am Raven Stirling,” she mutters. “I am looking in a mirror. I am real. I am stronger than this.”

“Okay, Ash, you’ve got to explain,” Rye says, staring at me and Raven with a mingled look of incredulity and suspicion. “What. Happened. All we hear is that you raped some
surrogate
and—”

“He didn’t rape anyone,” I snap.

Rye’s eyes widen. “No,” he says to Ash. “You’re not saying . . .
she’s
the surrogate?” All the hazy laughter in him vanishes as he jumps off the bed, his expression deadly serious. “They need to get out. Now. I’ll help you, but I’m not risking my life for some surrogate. Are you crazy? Do you know what—”

“I love her,” Ash says. He makes a gesture with his palms open, like he’s offering his words in surrender. “I fell in love with her, Rye.”

Rye runs a hand through his black curls. He sits on the
edge of his bed and rests his chin on his hands. He looks from me to Ash and back again. I feel ridiculous in this stupid outfit. I wish I could unzip my skin and show him the place inside me where Ash lives, tangled up in blood and bone and muscle, impossible to separate or remove. I want him to see that we are the same.

“Prove it,” Rye says, as if in response to my thought.

“We got caught together,” Ash says. “That’s what really happened. You know me. Do you honestly think I’d force myself on a surrogate? Do you think I’d even look at a surrogate? I was
very
good at my job. She . . .” He smiles my favorite, secret smile. “She took me by surprise. But once I allowed myself to love her, I couldn’t take it back.”

“So you risked execution for her?” Rye asks.

“I did.”

“You risked
Cinder’s
life for her, too, then,” he says.

Ash’s jaw tightens. “I know.”

For some reason, this thought had never occurred to me. Cinder’s life is wrapped up in Ash’s profession.

I am dumbstruck. He knew. He knew and he loved me anyway. My stomach squirms with guilt.

Rye chews on his lower lip, mulling over Ash’s words, then shakes his head. “Get some sleep. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

He glances back at me with a wondering look, as if I were something out of a fairy story, like the water spirit from
The Wishing Well
—something that doesn’t exist in real life. Then he pulls off his sweater in one fluid movement. His dark skin is smooth over a very muscular chest
and heat flames in my cheeks. In my peripheral vision, I see Ash roll his eyes.

“Good night, Rye,” Ash says.

Rye flashes a grin at me. “Unless you want me to find you some X,” he says to Ash.

“
Good night
, Rye,” Ash says again.

“What’s X?” I ask as Raven and I head to the bathroom to wash the makeup off our faces. “Another drug?”

Ash’s face flushes. “Black-market contraceptive.”

I gasp. “What?” Contraception is outlawed in the Lone City. Everyone knows that.

Ash starts opening the drawers of his dresser, pulling out bedclothes, and keeping his face turned away from me. “There’s a serum that can cause a man to be infertile for several hours. However, it’s quite unpleasant to use, and if caught with it, the sentence is death.”

“Why is it unpleasant to use?” I ask as he hands me an oversize cotton shirt.

He winces. “You have to inject it into a very sensitive area.”

“Oh,” I say, my eyes widening.

By the time we are washed and changed into the makeshift pajamas, Rye is snoring lightly.

“You two take the bed,” Ash says. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

I help Raven under the covers and turn to him.

“Cinder,” I say, “I didn’t even think . . . what will happen to her?”

He pauses, looking down. “I don’t know.”

“Isn’t there . . . can’t we do something? Help her somehow?”

He barks out a laugh. “Violet, we can’t even help ourselves.”

He’s right. I struggle for something to say, words of comfort or inspiration, but there’s nothing. Saying I’m sorry isn’t enough. And saying I wish this hadn’t happened is a lie.

Ash misreads my expression. “We’ll figure it out,” he says, running his hands down my arms. “Rye will help us.”

“And you’re sure we can trust him?” I ask, my eyes flickering to Rye’s back.

“I trust Lucien on your say-so,” Ash snaps. “Can’t you trust Rye on mine?”

“Of course,” I say, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice.

He sighs. “Let’s try to get some sleep for now. We all need it.”

As I crawl under the covers, Raven leans her cheek against my shoulder. My head sinks into the pillow, and it’s been so long since I’ve slept in an actual bed that I’m asleep in moments.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

I
WAKE UP SOMETIME IN THE EARLY HOURS OF THE MORNING
, to the sound of murmured voices.

“. . . was an accident,” Ash is saying. “She wasn’t even supposed to be in that wing of the palace.”

“So when did you know?” Rye asks.

“I’m not sure,” Ash says. “It’s hard to explain. But once I saw her, I couldn’t . . .
unsee
her. If that makes sense. We don’t look at them, you know? The surrogates. But suddenly, she was a person, this smart, beautiful girl who was treated so badly. You should hear her play the cello, Rye—it’s like being transported to another world. She made me feel human again. She made me want things I thought weren’t meant for me.”

“It must make a nice change, being with someone your own age who isn’t a House Girl,” Rye snorts.

“Don’t be glib,” Ash says. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“You haven’t seen me in months,” Rye retorts. “You don’t know what suits me now.”

“Dosing yourself with blue? Is that who you are?”

There’s a heavy sigh and the creaking of a mattress. “I couldn’t hold out anymore. Emory’s dead. Miles is so strung out he’s about to be Marked and tossed out on the streets. Jig is dead. Trac is starting to cut where it shows. Birch is about to age out. You’re a fugitive. Who do I have left?”

There’s a long silence.

“Emory’s dead?” Ash says.

“Yeah.”

“But he was always so—”

“I know.” Rye’s voice is hard.

“I didn’t mean to leave you like this,” Ash says.

“Don’t start acting like you’re responsible for everyone’s problems. I make my own choices. So do you.”

“None of us chose to be companions, Rye.”

“Sure we did.”

“Being lied to or bribed or coerced doesn’t qualify as making a choice. If you knew what being a companion actually entailed, would you do it?”

“I had to,” Rye says. “You know better than anyone. My family needed the money.”

“Exactly. They didn’t give us any other option.”

“I don’t see the point in thinking like that.”

“Neither did I. Violet changed that for me. Surrogates
don’t have an option, either. And yet, I treated them like furniture, like accessories. I didn’t see them as people. I was as bad as the royalty I hated so much.” He sighs. “I don’t want to be like them anymore. I won’t.”

“So where are you going, exactly?” Rye asks, after a pause. “Do you honestly think there’s any place in any circle of the entire Lone City where the royalty can’t find you? And not any member of the royalty, but a Founding House? You should’ve fallen in love with a third-tier surrogate.”

I can practically hear Ash’s eyes roll. “We have some . . . help. From someone who can be trusted, even if I don’t like him.”

Rye chuckles. “Jealous of another man?”

“Hardly,” Ash says, but there’s something off in his tone that makes me think he’s lying. That’s strange. Why would Ash be jealous of Lucien?

“You know,” Rye says, “it’s weird that your escape is all over the papers, but a surrogate escaped and there hasn’t been a word about it. No gossip, no whispers, no nothing. You’re the hot topic, but your girlfriend . . . I mean, wouldn’t
that
really be a big story?”

“I’ve thought about that,” Ash says. “The Duchess is an incredibly smart, ambitious woman. If she hasn’t revealed Violet’s absence to the Jewel, she must have a reason.”

At that moment, Raven sits bolt upright, making everyone in the room jump.

“Someone’s coming,” she hisses.

Ash is on his feet in an instant.

“Get in the bathroom,” he says. Raven and I untangle ourselves from the covers and run, leaving Ash to remake
the bed as fast as he can. Rye watches all of this with a confused expression.

“What’s happening?” he asks.

“If Raven says someone’s coming, someone’s coming,” Ash says. He finishes with the bed and hurries to join us in the bathroom. “We’re not here,” he warns Rye and slams the door shut.

Raven is curled up in the bathtub, hugging her knees. I perch on the edge of the tub. Ash stays pressed against the bathroom door. He puts his finger to his lips and I nod as he turns off the light.

We hear the door to the bedroom open and the sounds of Rye scrambling out of bed.

“Good morning, Madame.”

“Good morning, Mr. Whitfield.” The voice is like a honey-covered blade—sharp and sweet all at once. Ash sinks to the floor, holding his head in his hands. I can’t help myself—I shift to kneel by the door beside him and press my eye against the keyhole.

For a moment, I see nothing but Rye’s messy vanity and the striped sofa by the window. Then a woman sweeps into view and reclines on the sofa, directly in my line of sight.

It’s impossible to tell how old she is—she wears a lot of makeup, and though she wears it well, I have the distinct impression her face has been altered, her skin tightened to remove wrinkles. Her eyes are slightly feline. Her body is wrapped in satin, and pearls drip from her neck and ears. She is large, but not disgustingly fleshy like the Countess of the Stone—Madame Curio is all curves, large breasts and wide hips. She has the air of someone who has seen a lot of life.

“Have you fully recovered from the Lady of the Downs’s service, Mr. Whitfield?” she asks. “I know she requires quite a bit of endurance.”

“It was a pleasure, Madame. I am quite well, thank you.”

I can’t see Rye, but if I didn’t know better, I’d absolutely believe him. Madame Curio smiles.

“I’m glad to hear it. I have a new client for you. You’ve been particularly requested in fact.”

“I am honored, Madame. Who might the young lady be?”

Madame Curio’s smile widens. “Carnelian Silver, of the House of the Lake.”

My heart skips a beat. Madame Curio traces a finger down her cheek, eyeing Rye thoughtfully. “The Duchess asked for you personally. A Founding House. It’s very impressive. Let us hope you don’t ruin this opportunity like your former roommate did.”

“Of course not, Madame.”

“I won’t have it said that my house breeds surrogate rapists and fugitives from the law.”

“No, Madame. I am eager to meet Miss Silver. I’m certain our time together will be most enjoyable.”

Madame Curio purses her lips. “Come here.”

It’s like my eye is glued to the keyhole. I want to look away, but I can’t. I feel Ash tense beside me.

Rye comes into view, still shirtless. The muscles in his back ripple when he moves. Madame Curio sits up and runs a hand over his chest.

“Very nice,” she says approvingly. Her hand travels
farther down. “Hmm,” she murmurs after a couple seconds. “You will come to my room this evening at six. Let’s make sure you’re up for the assignment.”

“Yes, Madame.”

“And you’ll report to Dr. Lane this afternoon for the usual tests.”

“Of course, Madame.”

Madame Curio stands in a movement so fluid, it reminds me of the Duchess. She moves like royalty.

“Good boy,” she says, patting his cheek. Then she walks out of my line of sight. I hear the door open and close. Rye stands still for a moment, then marches over to the bathroom. I scoot back as he throws the door open.

“So,” he says. “I guess I’m your replacement.”

“She knows,” Ash says, looking up with a pained expression. “She knows you’re connected to me, somehow. She’s doing this to find me. To find Violet.”

“It’s not like I can tell her anything,” Rye points out. “I don’t know where you’re going.”

“But you’ve seen us,” Ash says. “Together. And Raven.”

Raven’s head snaps up. “You can’t tell her,” she says. “She can’t know I’m alive.”

“Can everyone back off for a second?” Rye says. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t need you to come running into my life and messing it up.”

Ash gets to his feet. “You’re right. Tell her, don’t tell her, it’s up to you. But she’s asked for you for a reason. I don’t know how or when, but at some point, she will interrogate you about me.”

A wry smile curls on Rye’s lips. “Always top of the
class, weren’t you? The Jewel’s most-wanted.” He shakes his head. “Come on, let’s get you guys someplace safer than this room. Everyone should be down at breakfast by now.”

Raven climbs out of the tub and walks with deliberate steps toward Rye. She grabs his wrist and fixes him with a sharp, piercing gaze.

“You’re scared,” she says. “That’s good. You should be.”

She drifts into the bedroom. Rye raises an eyebrow.

“I’m not scared,” he says.

Ash and I exchange a look, but say nothing.

R
YE CHECKS TO MAKE SURE THE COAST IS CLEAR, THEN
the four of us hurry down the stairs and out the door we came in through last night.

The grounds are even prettier during the day. A dusting of frost makes the gravel roads twinkle like diamonds. We stocked up on sweaters and coats and scarves, so the cold isn’t unpleasant, but Raven and I are both wearing a pair of Ash’s shoes with extra socks stuffed into the toes so they’ll fit. It makes walking a bit awkward.

We keep close to the walls of the dormitories, their windows following me like empty eyes. A larger building looms into view, one whole side covered with ivy. An impressive pair of oak doors are set at the top of a stone staircase.

And beyond it, on the very far side of the grounds near the wall that encircles them, a sleek black train sits at a long platform. It is even smaller than the one I took to the Auction, only one car attached to a steam engine. Billows of smoke rise from its chimney, as if it were getting ready to depart.

“It’s here,” Ash says.

“That’s odd. Maybe there was a last-minute schedule change. Guess fate is on your side, for the moment,” Rye says. “There’s no way it’s going to the Jewel—my train won’t leave until tomorrow, after the doctor and Madame have finished with me. It has to be going to the lower circles.” He claps a hand on Ash’s shoulder. “You’d better get on it, while everyone is still at breakfast.”

My stomach grumbles at the thought of food. But there’s no time for that now.

“Thank you, Rye,” Ash says, shaking his hand. “Seriously. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

“Probably gotten executed,” Rye says, with a shrug and a grin. “So you owe me one.”

“I do,” Ash says, no hint of amusement in his voice. “Watch out for yourself in the palace of the Lake. Please. You don’t need to worry about the client—she isn’t interested in companions. But never, under any circumstances, tell Carnelian that you know me. She’ll probably ask. You need to lie.”

“Well, won’t that make for a nice change,” Rye says.

Ash’s smile is taut. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” Rye says. “This isn’t your fault. Stop acting like you bear the weight of all companions. You don’t.”

“I know.”

“And take care of yourself,” he adds.

“I will.”

“Thank you,” I say to Rye. He gives me a nod.

“You know,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a surrogate talk before.”

I’m not entirely sure what to say to that. With a final glance at Ash, Rye takes off across the grounds.

The three of us turn and run toward the station. As we get closer, I see a painted wooden sign that reads
MADAME CURIO’S COMPANION HOUSE
. There’s a little station house beside the sign, and Raven grabs my arm and pulls me beside it, Ash following. We’ve both learned quickly to trust her instincts. A few moments later, two Regimentals emerge from the train and saunter out onto the platform.

“All clear,” one says to the other.

“He’d have to be a total fool to come back here anyway,” the second Regimental says, as the two of them descend the steps to the platform and walk toward the grounds. The three of us press together against the rough wood of the house.

“I don’t see why we have to be working double shifts to find some companion,” the first grumbles. “It’s not like he raped the Duchess herself.”

“Don’t let the Major hear you talk like that,” the second one says. “You’ll be shipped off to serve in the Marsh before you can say Founding House.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the first says. “Let’s go see if the kitchen’s open, I’m starving.”

We wait until well after their footsteps have faded and quiet settles all around.

“Come on,” Ash whispers. We hurry up the stairs and onto the platform. Ash opens the door to the train car and ushers us inside.

Unlike the Southgate train, the companion car has neat
rows of wooden seats all facing the same direction. Curtains hang in the windows and the aisle is carpeted in green.

“Where are we supposed to hide?” I ask.

Ash stops at the third row.

“Here,” he says. He bends downs and I hear a click. The entire row of seats lifts up, revealing a long rectangular hole. “You two get in this one. There’s another compartment under the sixth row. I’ll hide there. Hopefully whoever is leaving on this train is leaving soon.”

“And hopefully they’re going to the Farm,” I add. I look down at the hole and shudder. It eerily resembles an open grave.

“I think I prefer the trunk of Garnet’s car,” I say.

“At least it’s not the morgue,” Ash says.

I step down into the hole—it’s a little deeper than I expected. I reach my hand up for Raven. Her face is pale as she looks down at the empty space. Even her lips are white.

“Promise me, Violet,” she says, “that if I get in there, I’m getting out again.”

“I promise,” I say.

She takes my hand and I help her inside. We both lie down—there’s a surprising amount of room.

Ash looks at us with a pained expression. “Keep as quiet and still as you can. I’ll come get you when we get to . . . wherever we’re going.”

There’s nothing else to say or do except cling to the frail hope that this will work. He closes the seats over us, and Raven and I are plunged into darkness.

After a while, my eyes begin to adjust. Gray light creeps in through the wooden slats above us.

“Violet?” Raven whispers.

“Yes?”

“Do you think that this place we’re going to in the Farm . . . do you think there’s someone there who can fix me?”