CHAPTER 15 RAYA
RAYA
“Have you lost your mind?” I glance between Ezzo and the iron cuff, cursing our new-found proximity. “I already told you everything I know!”
“You told me everything you wanted me to hear, there’s a difference,” he says, dismissing the Bronze with a quick exchanging of signs. “Now, are we staying to meet your tracker friends, or shall we run while we still can?”
This Sapphire is clearly more perceptive than I first thought.
“I’ll do you one better.” Without a word of warning, I shed my physicality and shimmer us out of the house, praying that the sudden burst of speed will destabilize his In-Between, shatter my problem to pieces.
“Disappointed I’m still here?” Ezzo asks when I jerk us to a halt at the top of the street.
Way, way more perceptive.
And far more adept.
“You know, I could just shimmer us straight to the Council and say that I was the one who caught you.”
“Right, because I’m sure they’d believe you willingly cuffed yourself to a Hue with iron.”
“I’ll tell them that’s how dedicated I am.”
“Then I’ll tell them to ask why you don’t have the key.”
“And I’ll say it got lost in the struggle. Not that it would even matter since they’ll believe my story, not yours.”
“Maybe.” He shrugs, entirely unperturbed. “Or maybe they’d never look at you the same again. Especially once I describe, in painstaking detail, how you used the future to help me escape the tavern. I bet they’d love to learn all about your messed-up visions.”
“Fuck you, Ezzo.” I hate that he’s right and that he damn well knows it.
I hate that if we’re caught together like this, the trackers will take the time to ask questions and then everything I’d tell them he’d contradict.
I hate that I’m stuck and I’m stuck and I’m stuck with him.
“If I ask the future where to hide, will you believe the answer?”
“Will you actually get an answer?” His lip curls with the jibe. “Or will it just show you the same thing it did Chase?”
My Gods, this Hue is annoying.
“Let’s find out,” I grit, though deep in my gut, I already suspect I will.
There’s been a pattern to my visions since I became fate-touched, a trend to what questions the fates choose to ignore and what truths they choose to reveal—and he’s at the very heart of it.
As long as we’re cuffed together, I’m confident they’ll allow me to see.
Where will we not be found by the trackers?
The moment I engage my magic, I’m rewarded with the vision we need.
“We’re going east,” I say, though why the future’s sending us deep into Meridian territory is beyond me.
Perhaps the trackers won’t think to look there.
The Gray blurs to ash and twilight as I shimmer us through the streets, the shadows taking on a crueler, heavier feel as we enter the world of fanatic reform.
Here, it’s not just the stench of iron that marks the buildings as hostile, it’s the sigil that’s been inked in blood on every door where his followers live.
The sacred star, the Meridian calls it, an intricately pronged sun that appears to shine with a light from within.
The seal of a prophet.
Or at least, a man who claims divinity.
“What is this place?” Ezzo appraises our destination with open interest and wary feet.
“An old halfway house,” I tell him, wisping our way in. “The Meridians used to meet in vagrant spaces before their numbers grew large enough to commandeer their own church.”
“I’m sorry—the Meridians?”
“You’ve really not been paying attention, huh?
” I’m kind of amazed at just how oblivious he is, how he managed to drink right past the biggest crisis in Sarotuza.
“They’re a fringe religious group that broke with the sacraments—though I guess they’re not actually that fringe anymore; they’ve gained a lot more power over the past few years and tons of new followers.
There are thousands of them now, I think. Maybe more.”
“And the Church isn’t trying to shut them down?” Ezzo asks, studying their brazen symbol.
“It’s trying, but their leader is popular and he’s doing the one thing the Church can’t while it’s still bound by the accords.”
“What’s that?”
“Killing Shades for sport.” I don’t miss the flash of satisfaction that flames in Ezzo’s eyes.
“Sucks to be hunted, doesn’t it?”
Nor do I bother dignifying his self-serving reply. “So, what’s your plan here, exactly?” I give the cuffs connecting us an angry tug. “Follow me around the city forever?”
“Not forever, no, just until I figure you out,” he says, smug as sunshine.
So forever, then. My teeth grind themselves brittle as we make our way through the house. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about your friends?” I drag him down to sit among the remnants of a ruined couch. “Or do you not care what happens to them?”
“They’re safer without me.” Where I sink into the tattered cushions, Ezzo sinks right to the floor, unable to control his physicality.
“Doesn’t that get annoying?” I had quite forgotten about the limitations of his hue.
“I’ve never known any different.” He offers me another shrug. “In the Gray, I wisp; it’s just what I do.”
“So then, how’s the cuff staying on?” I ask, rattling our wrists.
“They really don’t teach you much about us, do they?
” Ezzo fixes me a pointed look. “Iron is one of the few exceptions, but only when it takes the form of something like a cuff or a cage—something that surrounds me without break—then it stops me phasing the same way it does you. Beyond that, it’s a pretty small list. I can interact with other Shades, my clothes, the ground .
. . the same things you still interact with when you shimmer.
Oh, and anything endowed with magic, so charms, talismans, scrys,” he says, showing me the crystal hanging around his neck.
“That’s how I’ll find the others later. Until then, you don’t have to worry—Cemmy and Chase are very good at looking out for themselves.
” There’s an edge to his voice that reeks of history.
“You don’t like them,” I say, and it isn’t a question.
“I have my reasons not to like them.”
“Even though they came to rescue you?” Twice in one day, no less; surely that should have bought them a little grace, perhaps an ounce of appreciation?
“It’s what they think I’m owed.” Ezzo’s tone sharpens to a blade. “I notice no one’s come to rescue you.”
He sure has a way of getting under my skin, prying when I least expect it.
“You know what, I think I’m done talking now.
” I turn to stare at the wall. I don’t need him to see just how hard those words have hit me, or how I’ve slowly been waking up to that reality all on my own.
It’s been hours since I bid goodbye to my mother; longer still since Akari and I left the Academy and agreed to meet at one of her usual haunts.
She should have gotten worried bells ago, and even if she got distracted, Killen’s threat from before we left the castle should have ensured that someone would realize I’m gone.
So then, why haven’t they found me? The thought is a cancer, spreading through every one of my cells, tissues, and bones.
Akari would have spoken to the class master, who would have alerted my parents, who would have asked the future for help in bringing me home.
Likewise, Killen had threatened to tell Professor Lyons, who would have done that same thing from the Academy, which would have yielded the same result.
So either they haven’t raised the alarm yet or—
The future isn’t playing ball. I shiver, the prospect chilling me from head to toe.
Is it possible that the damage I wrought on my magic extends to those who see around me?
Or am I just being overly paranoid, assuming that they can’t find me, when they’ve simply not yet been asked to look?
I mean, maybe Akari decided to do the searching herself instead of getting others involved?
Or maybe Killen changed his mind about going to Professor Lyons—though I can’t imagine why given the way I left things .
. . wouldn’t he have wanted to pay me back for that hurt?
And for the love of all three Gods, is it too much to ask to contemplate the mess I made quietly, without this idiot Sapphire howling like a sullen ghost?
“Are the creepy wails really necessary?” I round on him with a vengeance, itching for a fight to distract from the questions I can’t control.
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Ezzo says, slowly climbing to his feet.
“But I think it’s coming from over there.
” Inch by inch, he starts edging us towards the source, slow as the seasons and silent as a cunning fox.
The wails stay faint at first, hopeless, broken, though as we delve deeper into the belly of the house, they intensify in grief and force.
“Didn’t you ask the future to send us somewhere we wouldn’t be found?” he hisses, keeping his voice low.
“Yes, I—” No, actually; what I chose to ask was: where will we not be found by the trackers?
Which, in hindsight, wasn’t the best form of that question—it was too specific, left us vulnerable to other dangers.
But the bigger mistake I made was continuing to treat my magic like absolutely nothing’s changed.
I’m still following the old rules when the future’s playing an entirely new game.
“For your information, I asked it to keep us away from the trackers—and that is most definitely not a tracker.” The voice sounds far too young, for starters, far too timid and afraid. “Can you see what color Shade it is?”
“I’m trying,” Ezzo says, eyes frosted white behind the veil of his gift. “But the trail they’re leaving . . . it’s not like anything I’ve ever seen. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was an echo. Like the kind a typic leaves.”