8. Astra
Astra
The pitcher in Kieran’s room was empty. He had finally fallen asleep with Hale in the chair beside him and Caspian sitting against the wall. I eased myself from the bed without waking him and reached for the pitcher.
Hale looked up. “Where are you going?”
“To find water.”
“I’ll go.”
“Stay with him.”
His gaze dropped to Kieran. Even asleep, Kieran’s breathing had a rough edge to it.
Caspian rose. “Then I’ll come with you.”
“I can carry a pitcher by myself.”
He looked as if he meant to argue. I touched his wrist before he could.
“I need to move,” I said quietly. “I won’t be long.”
The attendant at the end of our corridor barely glanced at the pitcher. She pointed me toward a stair that curved down to the kitchens and returned to the ledger in her lap.
I followed her directions until the first landing.
A narrow passage opened behind the stair, half concealed by the curve of the wall. No attendant sat beside it. The water-light inside was brighter than the light on the kitchen stairs, and the walls beyond had the pale, reflective sheen I remembered from the intake rooms.
I stepped into the passage.
The empty pitcher was the only excuse I had. I held it close to my side and kept moving, listening for voices. The passage bent once, then opened onto a high gallery overlooking a hollow cut through the center of the mountain.
Across the hollow, glass-fronted rooms descended in tier after tier.
Silver water-light climbed the panes and broke across them, laying pale reflections over beds, chairs, and human faces.
The hum of the channels rose from somewhere far below, deep enough that I felt it through the soles of my shoes.
People lived in the rooms.
A woman with close-shorn hair sat on the edge of a bed, staring at her bare feet. Farther down, a man walked the same short path from wall to wall, turning before his shoulder touched either side. A boy no older than fourteen lay curled beside the glass with one palm pressed against it.
There were rooms below them and more below those, fading into silver darkness.
These were not rooms meant for a few days of questions. The man’s path had worn a lighter band across the floor. The woman’s wall held a row of marks too distant for me to read. Someone had scratched a name into the frame beside the boy’s hand.
I moved to the low stone rail.
The letters were too small from across the hollow. I leaned over the rail, searching for an angle that might bring them clear.
“You won’t find Delphine Moreau from here.”
Marrow stood at the entrance to the gallery.
I nearly dropped the pitcher. My fingers tightened around its handle before it could slip.
Two stewards waited behind him. Neither looked surprised to see me.
“I didn’t say I was looking for Delphine.”
“You didn’t need to.”
He walked toward me. The people behind the glass did not look up. The pacing man reached the wall, turned, and started back.
“Is she here?” I asked.
“I will direct you to the kitchens.”
“Is Delphine in this building?”
Marrow stopped a few feet away. “Residents of the Tower are not discussed with other residents.”
“Then why did you say her name?”
He didn’t answer.
Behind the glass, the boy’s hand remained against the pane.
“Does his family know where he is?”
Marrow followed my gaze. “Return to your assigned corridor.”
“Does anyone know they’re here?”
One of the stewards shifted behind him. Marrow did not.
“This is your warning,” he said. “The passage is not secured. That does not make it part of your assigned route.”
“They’re locked behind glass.”
“They are contained according to the requirements of their Marks.”
“That boy is a child.”
Marrow looked at the boy. Something in his face closed. Then he took the pitcher from my hand and gave it to the nearest steward.
“Fill this.”
The healer left with it.
Marrow turned back to me. “You waited until Marsh was asleep and the others were occupied. Then you went looking for a corridor you had not been shown.”
“You’ve been watching us.”
“You are under review.”
“I went for water.”
“You took the first unguarded turn you found.”
The healer returned and offered me the full pitcher. I took it with both hands. Cold water shifted inside, heavy enough to pull at my arms.
“The next time you leave an assigned route, you will be escorted whenever you leave your room,” Marrow said. “If you attempt to enter a secured area, your room will be secured instead.”
“For how long?”
“As long as required.”
He stepped aside. The passage back to the stairs stood open behind him.
I looked once more toward the boy. He had lifted his head. His face was thin in the silver light, his eyes fixed on the pitcher in my hands.
Then one of the stewards moved between us.
I returned to our corridor with the healer close behind me. She waited until I entered Kieran’s room before turning away.
Caspian was standing when I came through the door. Hale remained beside the bed, one hand resting near Kieran’s wrist. Kieran’s eyes were open.
“You were gone too long,” Caspian said.
I set the pitcher on the table. Water spilled over the rim and ran across my fingers.
“There are more people inside the mountain,” I said. “Rooms behind glass. More levels than I could see.”
Hale’s attention sharpened. “Where?”
“Below the kitchen stair. Marrow found me there.”
Kieran pushed himself higher against the pillows and winced. “What did he do?”
“Warned me. Threatened to lock my room if I leave the permitted corridors again.”
Caspian came closer. “Did you see Delphine?”
“No.” I dried my wet hand against my skirt. “But Marrow knew I was looking for her before I said her name.”
No one spoke.
The water in the pitcher settled. Beyond the closed door came the low rush of the Tower’s hidden channels. Somewhere below us, the same silver light crossed the boy’s room.