Wordless (19 page)

“And if he did?”

I grimaced. I already felt like I’d had to choose between Khaya and Drey when I’d helped Khaya and left Drey at the mercy of Herio. Now I was choosing all over again … except this time, Khaya’s life wasn’t at stake. Drey’s was. Maybe mine too, but if there was a chance I could save him, I had to try. “Khaya, if there is a cure there, I have to get it to him. Whatever it takes—”

“I know. And if there isn’t one?”

If there wasn’t … “I don’t know. I’ll just have to decide what to do then.”

Khaya nodded, then released me with a deep breath. “Then let’s go.”

She didn’t sound distraught over my decision, but then, she rarely did. Maybe she was just facing reality with her usual stoicism. I didn’t feel stoic. There was a sharp pain in my chest as I let her go, so strong it almost brought me back to my knees once I stood. I offered her my hand, but she shook her head.

“You go ahead,” she said. “Let the others know we’re ready to leave. I’ll be there soon. I just need to catch my breath and”—she sounded embarrassed—“straighten my hair and clothes.”

I left before I could change my mind.

If Khaya was hoping to keep our interaction a secret, it was a lost cause. When I returned to the main room of our burrow, Pavati was leaning against the wall that still hadn’t reopened after Tu vanished behind it, nonchalantly picking at her nails. But there was a smile lifting the corner of her mouth.

“I thought you weren’t going to listen,” I hissed.

“I heard only one thing,” she said, “and only because you shouted loud enough to bring the place down. I don’t think Tu heard, because I’m
positive
he would have come out of his hole to mock you by now.”

I rubbed my forehead, squeezing my eyes closed. “Don’t tell me. I can guess.”

“Likewise … don’t tell me
why
you’re a puppy. I can guess.”

“Pavati.” I opened my eyes and gave her my most charming smile. “I haven’t killed anyone yet, but there’s still time.”

She grinned back at me, flashing brilliant white teeth. Then she made a motion of zipping her lips closed. Even after she’d pantomimed locking them up and throwing away the key, she was still smiling so broadly she could barely keep her mouth closed, and laughter sputtered out.

“I don’t care if you’re a Word,” I said. “I
will
kill you.”

She had to resort to covering her mouth after that, because she couldn’t stop. When Tu leapt through a widening gap in the wall a moment later, demanding to know what all the fuss was about, she only shook her head with tears in her eyes, thank the Gods.

twenty

Tu wasn’t happy when Khaya reaffirmed her decision to accompany me into the Swiss Alps, and was even less happy when Pavati announced she would go with us “just for kicks”—which made Khaya sigh almost inaudibly. I only heard it because I was standing right next to her. I had to resist sighing myself. We definitely wouldn’t have much time alone.

But it was good to see Pavati backing her friend, even if Khaya’s decision seemed weird to her. Khaya had probably saved her life, after all.

Mostly, it was good to be moving. If I wasn’t going toward Drey, I desperately hoped I was at least headed toward a cure for the Word of Death.

Tu agreed to go with us only because he insisted I wasn’t man enough to protect the girls, never mind that Pavati turned the earth under his feet into a watery bog after he said that and Khaya’s voice ripped roots out of the dirt walls to lash around his neck.

“See,” Tu said, sunk up to his waist and half-strangled. “The only reason I don’t have rocks crushing you right now is that I’m looking out for your safety.”

“Thanks,” Pavati said, leaving him to extract himself. She began marching down the newly extended tunnel that stretched away into darkness.

The earth pushed Tu back aboveground at his command, solidifying beneath his feet. He rubbed his neck after he unwound the now unmoving, limp root. “I didn’t even know you could do that, Khaya.”

Khaya’s eyes were disturbed. “I didn’t either, until recently.”

“I guess they didn’t spend a lot of time developing your assault capabilities at the Athenaeum. You
are
supposed to be the Word of Life,” he said in a withering tone.

She looked embarrassed. “I know … it’s not right.”

“I wouldn’t go
that
far,” I said. “It sure would have been useful with the dog. It’s interesting that Tu can drive you to violence but not the thought of getting ripped to shreds.” I looked at Tu. “Never underestimate how torturous your company is.”

“Maybe Khaya just didn’t care enough to save
you
,” he retorted. “You’re a wordless idiot, after all.”

I laughed at him. The memory of Khaya kissing and touching me made me feel like I was encased in a warm glow, almost like a force field. I nearly felt high. Khaya was blushing as if she felt something similar.

“It’s the second time in as many minutes that you’ve shown you don’t know a thing about us ladies,” Pavati called from up ahead in the tunnel.

As we walked, I had to admit that traveling with two additional Words was not only safer but made for much easier going. Even though Tu made his displeasure as obvious as possible, complaining every step of the way, I couldn’t help but appreciate his smooth, gently sloping tunnels in comparison to the tangle of the forest. Never mind those rough, freezing streams. The only water we saw was what Pavati summoned whenever we needed a drink, drawing it up through the ground. That was about as much as I ever wanted to see again.

We were still hungry, though—insanely hungry, in my case. Walking even made me feel dizzy, but I didn’t want to say anything until Tu did. Which didn’t take long.

“Is anyone else starving?” he demanded, as only the latest of his many complaints. “I am.”

“We could surface to get our bearings—” Khaya began.

“I know where we’re going.” Tu tapped his head. “Built-in compass. I can feel the earth’s magnetism.”

“Or at least so
I
can get my bearings,” she continued. “And while we’re up there, maybe I can find some mushrooms and berries to—”

“Berries?” Tu scoffed. “What about a sandwich? And I could really use a shirt. We need to get back in touch with civilization, people. I know you’re anxious to run and hide, but unless you want to weave your own clothes and starve to death on what Khaya can farm along the way—”

“He’s right,” Pavati said. “We need to make a pit stop. Where’s the nearest town?”

“There’s a small one, called Martigny, a few miles east of here,” Khaya said, hesitating. “It’s actually on the way, just across the Swiss border. But we were trying to avoid being seen.”

“We’ll be fine!” Tu said, waving a hand in the air. “No one will bother us. And if they do, we’ll teach them a lesson.”

Khaya’s full lips pressed into a hard line that he couldn’t see, since the two of us were walking behind him and Pavati. “That’s exactly what we want to avoid. We’re hiding, Tu.”

“I think a
little noise might let Eden City know we mean business.”

“You can go make all the noise you want. By yourself.”

“Don’t worry, Khaya,” Pavati said, grinning back at us. “I’ll keep a tight leash on him.”

Tu whooped. “Oh, baby, if
that’s
how you like to play, I’ll put on a leash and collar for you anytime. How about tonight?”

“In your sad little dreams.”

The walk continued in a similar pattern, the tunnel opening onward, smooth and straight, even when we passed through different types of soil or rock. And the banter between Pavati and Tu didn’t change much, either, with his complaints or crude advances shut down by her biting comebacks. Tu never stopped trying to change everyone’s mind about going deeper into the Alps, and both sides got more and more insistent—or belligerent, in Tu’s case.

Tempers grew shorter and hotter as the miles passed underfoot, a crabbiness I attributed to hunger. We divided up the remaining two food bars, but the morsels weren’t even enough to make my stomach stop aching. By the time the path began to rise upward through the earth, we were all about ready to murder Tu, and he certainly felt the same in return—at least toward me.

So when the tunnel opened up in the trees and we saw the small town of Martigny across a dying, autumn-colored valley in the late afternoon sunlight, I was almost relieved.

It was the first settlement I’d seen outside Eden City. While it was small and simple, with none of the shining glass and steel I was used to, it wasn’t nearly as outlandish as I’d expected. The wood and stone buildings were low to the ground, but constructed in a predictable fashion, and there were streets, streetlights, and signs. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting. This was Switzerland, after all, a not-so-
distant, if foreign, country. There were, however, far more words on these signs than in Eden City, where they used a lot of pictures for the wordless.

Tu shuddered. “I take it back,” he said, his breath fogging in the crisp air after the relative warmth of the tunnel. “I don’t want a shirt. I want a sweatshirt. Or five.”

We were all underdressed—Tu most of all, to be fair, though Pavati wasn’t much more clothed in her halter top—and shivering. I wouldn’t have minded more coverage myself, but those two needed it for more than the cold. The Words stamping their skin looked more striking than ever, as good as signs pointing to them and shouting,
We’ve escaped from the Athenaeum! Come get us!

Khaya looked at them, obviously thinking the same thing. “You two have to stay here,” she said, with only the barest hint of satisfaction. “You’re way too conspicuous.”

“As if you two aren’t,” Tu said, giving us a once-over with a contemptuous smirk. “You look like you’ve been running and hiding in the woods for days on end. Nothing suspicious there.”

“Tavin and I are still the better option,” Khaya insisted, folding her arms—to appear stern, or to ward off the cold, or maybe to cover a hole in her shirt. “They could still mistake us for runaway teenagers. You two are unmistakable like this.”

“So what? I say we march right in and come what may.”

Pavati rubbed her arms, which were covered in goose bumps. “Why don’t we go in at night and just break into a store?”

The thought hadn’t occurred to me. And there was a reason. The one time I’d ever stolen something had been one of the most shaming moments of my young life, not only because Drey had forced me to hand over the toy, along with my stammering apology, to the storeowner down the street, but because he’d bought it for me the next day, to prove I didn’t need to steal. I hadn’t even been able to play with it, I was so embarrassed. It just sat on the metal desk in my back room and collected dust.

“No!” I spoke louder than I’d intended. I was well beyond the shame of the incident, but I didn’t want to dishonor Drey now. And besides, he’d prepared things so I wouldn’t have to steal. “I mean, I have money,” I said more quietly, slipping the backpack off my shoulders and digging out the envelope with the postcard and cash. “Plenty of it. And besides, we’d leave a trail for anyone hunting us if we break into a store and steal only food and sweatshirts.”

“You’re right,” Pavati said, her eyebrows raised as if she was surprised by the fact she hadn’t considered that. Or maybe that
I
had. But she blinked it away and gave me a smile.

I pulled out the wad of Swiss francs and stuffed it in my pocket, leaving the envelope with the backpack. The pack would be safer with Pavati and Tu, especially if Khaya and I needed to run for any reason. And Khaya probably didn’t want the gun coming with us.

“We could always steal more to throw them off,” Tu said with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Maybe wreck the place so we look like common thugs.”

“You would
be
a common thug then,” I said, and Pavati gave me another assessing look.

Khaya glanced at her, then took my arm—firmly. “Tavin and I are going in. We’ll get the basics: food, clothes—”

“Soap,” I interjected.

“Any other requests?”

“Tavin could always give me his shirt and I could go in,” Tu said. “You need a man capable of reading, never mind—”

“No.” Khaya cut him off.

Tu sneered. “His shirt wouldn’t fit me anyway.”

I nodded. “Too big, I know.”

Khaya yanked me away before the conversation could degrade further and started off across the fields. My feet crunched in the shadowed patches of the grass. Frost.

“Get some chocolate!” Pavati shouted after us. “Hell, lots of chocolate—we’re in Switzerland, after all! And toilet paper!” Her shout dissolved into laughter amidst the trees.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind some toilet paper either,” I said as we walked. It felt strange to be out in the open, in the daylight no less, and I was talking mostly to stave off any nervousness. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that earlier.” I’d been making do with leaves.

“Probably because you were busy running for your life,” Khaya said. “In that situation, toilet paper is a luxury. It still is. We’ll need to get another backpack at this rate, maybe two. Toilet paper is light, but it takes up too much space.”

“Killjoy,” I said.

Khaya didn’t even look at me. She had gone into action-mode—her way of dealing with nerves—winding herself into a tight coil of seriousness. Not that I was used to seeing a side of her that
wasn’t
serious, but I’d been making some headway there. I wondered if it was part of her training or just part of her. Or because of what I’d confessed the night before.

“Though at this point, soap
is
a must,” she said, almost to herself. She stopped and faced me. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful.” She gave me a glare before I added, “And filthy.”

“Be more specific.”

“Well, I’ve always thought your hair was gorgeous, even when it’s a rat’s nest like now, and your eyes are the most melting shade of—”

She cleared her throat.

“Dirt smudges,” I said in a clipped fashion, as if reporting to my superior. I threw in a salute for good measure. “Upper left cheek and above right eyebrow. I repeat: hair is a rat’s nest.”

A smile worked its way onto her face, even though she obviously tried to stop it. She buffed at her cheek and forehead and tried to run her fingers through the dark, tangled mass of her hair, then gave up and twisted it into a knot at the nape of her neck. It was so stiff with grime it actually stayed in place without a tie. “Better?”

“Nothing could make you look better than you already do—but you look cleaner,” I said, before she could open her mouth. I took a step forward and rubbed at a dark spot visible above her collarbone. It didn’t come off, not even when I fell back on my trusty, all-purpose solution and licked my thumb before trying again.

“Whoops,” I said, the realization hitting me. “I think I did that. You know, when I was kissing your neck.”

Khaya craned her neck to see, a flush rising in her cheeks. She looked warmer than sunlight, sweeter than any flower in the world. Even when she smelled like old sweat.

“Oh. Well, nothing to be done about it,” she said, pulling her shirt a little higher and continuing to walk.

“What about me?” I asked, following her.

“Your face is as clean as it’s going to get, but your arms are a lost cause. We’d need a stiff scrub brush. I suggest keeping them folded if we encounter anyone. Your shirt looks horrible up close, but at least it’s dark—”

“No,” I said. “What
else
do you see?”

Normally, I would never have asked anyone a question like that in a million years, let alone a girl. Asking someone to tell you why they like you is obviously searching for an ego-boost, not a bruising. But this was Khaya, and I still felt high, especially after seeing the reminder of our last encounter on her neck. Besides, I was beyond curious: how the hell did a guy like me matter to a girl like her? Finding out that I
did
matter to her had only left me with that burning question.

Khaya’s stride faltered for a second, but then she kept going, faster than before, pulling ahead of me. I didn’t think she was going to answer.

But a few seconds later, she said, “I like your hair, even though you need a haircut. Some people wear theirs messy to look carefree, but it’s affected. You really don’t care.” I could hear the smile in her words, even though I couldn’t see her face. Her voice warmed up as she spoke, flowing more freely. “I particularly like your eyes. Their color is one of the least remarkable things about you, compared to your height, your build … ” She cleared her throat, more embarrassed than stern. “Anyway, it’s easy to miss your eyes—they’re sort of a nondescript muddy brown, but so clear. You see right through them almost. But I like looking, because of what I see.”