CHAPTER ONE #2
From the main building, many other buildings branched out, forming a self-sufficient network that was practically its own world.
Considering that all our needs were provided for here, and our lack of free time due to the rigor of Knowledge Center work assignments, Zander and his fellow Enforcers were typically the only ones who even bothered venturing out into the heart of Cyllene.
It was ironic, really. We were an isolated city within an isolated city.
“So maybe I’ll see you two at lunch then,” Zander said as we reached the foot of the stairs. He continued walking backwards toward the heavy glass doors that led into the city.
“Yes! See you then!” Brielle waved as we turned to head in the opposite direction, toward the Knowledge Center.
A few seconds passed. I realized they were waiting on me to say something. “See you then,” I echoed. Awkwardly.
As soon as we were out of earshot, Brielle grabbed my arm with a strength that could only come from endless hours of kneading dough. “Maila Gray!” she half-scolded, half-whined. She only used my full name when she meant business. “When are you going to just accept that he likes you?”
“He doesn’t like me,” I said lamely. He did, and we both knew it.
I gave her a sheepish look. Then we dissolved into laughter.
“What are you so afraid of?” Brielle demanded between giggles as we stepped through the back entrance of the living quarters and into the courtyard.
The Knowledge Center loomed roughly half a mile ahead, beyond immaculately maintained gardens. Every mass of magenta bougainvillea, every smattering of Blue Daze, every cluster of bubblegum pink pentas were meticulously tended to by the Wildlife Preservation department.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. The sweet scent of the flowers filled my nostrils, mingling with the salt air.
The salt from an ocean that we weren’t allowed to see.
Thank goodness I had my books. I sometimes wondered what the general public imagined when they heard of this mysterious ocean that lurked beyond our walls. Then again, maybe it took a lifetime staring at old photos in books to make a person even care about such a thing.
“Don’t you think he’s just…painfully handsome?”
I laughed again at Brielle’s wistful sigh. “Of course I do.”
But I didn’t, and that was the problem. Handsome? Absolutely. Painfully handsome? Not so much. Not to me, anyway.
My logical mind could look at Zander and appreciate all the things that made him nice to look at. But the girl who had grown up with Irene and her books of fairytales wanted more than “nice to look at.”
I didn’t ache for Zander. And I wanted someone who made me ache for them, in more ways than one.
“Is he not your type?” Brielle pressed.
I shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve ever really had a type. It’s not like we have a lot of options here.”
Brielle scoffed. “You need to start living in the real world, Maila! Even if we were born hundreds of years ago, before The Awakening, it’s not like all the men on the planet would be lining up for you to take your pick. All those stories you read mess with your head.”
She was probably right. Again.
“Eventually Zander’s going to get bored of pining for you, and some other woman is going to lock him down. And with any luck, it will be me.” She sighed again.
I could certainly picture Zander walking hand in hand with Brielle, like two beacons of warmth and light that were always meant to find one another. I knew that deep down, it hurt Brielle that Zander had never considered her in that way.
“He doesn’t like me like that, though.” It was as if she read my thoughts. “He’s asked out just about every single woman in the Knowledge Center. Including Trena now, apparently. But I think he must see me like a sister.”
“I actually hadn’t heard about the Trena thing until you mentioned it earlier.”
“I know you didn’t.” Her smile was smug. We were at the front doors of the Knowledge Center now, and I held the door for her as we walked inside. “I have to keep track of these things for you since you refuse.”
“Thanks,” I said, my voice thick with sarcasm. “I don’t know what I would do without you to keep me up to speed. It’s a shame Cyllene doesn’t have gossip magazines like the old ones in the Library. That could have been your work assignment instead.”
“Absolutely!” Brielle exclaimed, so animated that her braid flipped around and dropped over her chest. “Who truly needs my cooking when you have my juicy gossip to sustain you?”
We paused in the main hall. The Library was on the right-hand side of the compound, the Culinary Preservation department to the left.
“Well,” I said after a moment. “I guess I’ll see you and Zander at lunch then.”
I took a step toward the Library. But just like earlier on the balcony, I suddenly had a strange urge to turn back around.
I stared through the glass doors at the courtyard and the path we had just walked. I scanned the faces of the people passing through the doors, headed to their work assignments.
Some were waving as they parted ways. Others were walking by themselves, a few at a quick pace that told me they were running late. No one was looking at me.
“Is everything okay?” Brielle asked, and it took me a second to process that she was still standing there.
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand.
“Are you sure? You looked a little pale earlier. When we first met up, I mean.”
Her hazel eyes were full of concern as she searched my face. All the lingering humor and cheer from our conversation about Zander was gone, replaced with something more serious.
I couldn’t remember the last time she had looked at me that earnestly. As if for once, her walls were truly down, and she was ready to tackle whatever I threw at her.
Somewhere far away, a little voice told me that I didn’t deserve a friend like her.
“I didn’t sleep well for some reason. But I’m fine. I’ll probably just take a long nap after work.” I instantly hated myself for the lie. But I hoped she would accept it and not push any further.
She stared at me for a few seconds more.
“Got it,” she said finally, and a wave of guilt and relief washed over me. “Someone was being super noisy on my floor last night, so I can relate. See you at lunch!”
“See you at lunch,” I echoed.
She hurried off to the kitchen, and I headed for the Library.
This time, although I didn’t turn around, I was certain that someone’s eyes were boring holes in my back as I walked away.
This was my happy place.
Breathing in that comforting scent of paper.
Feeling the rays of sunshine gently warm my skin as they poured through the windows on the sixth floor.
Knowing that with only a handful of us assigned to the Library, I was probably the only person even on this floor at the moment.
If there was anywhere that felt like home to me, this was surely it.
The Library was safe. It was silent. It existed outside of the day-to-day, outside of the Knowledge Center and Cyllene. It existed outside of the nightmares that plagued me, and the events that caused them.
As I sat tucked into an overstuffed armchair, alternately leafing through the stack of books on the wooden end table beside me and gazing at the view of the courtyard below, I wished for the millionth time that I could always be here.
It was normal in Cyllene for The Council to choose your work assignment for you.
On a citizen’s thirteenth birthday, they were told where their assignment would be, and what specifically they would be doing within that department.
However, The Council was proud of the fact that in this process, they “took each individual’s interests and strengths into consideration.
” Hopefully, a person would be pleased with their assignment, considering they would be spending most every day of their life there.
My situation was rare in that I not only began my work assignment at ten years old, but also got to choose where I worked.
The understanding was that I would be provided with work that I found meaningful and the basic necessities I needed to survive, as long as I kept my mouth shut about what happened to Irene and to our home.
The story told to our fellow citizens was that Irene had tragically perished in a grease fire that incinerated our home. An unfortunate accident.
Except in a Post-Awakening world where magic was rampant outside the safety of Cyllene’s walls, you could never be too careful.
Instead of pitying the orphaned girl who had lost her only remaining relative, the people of Cyllene saw two Enforcer parents killed years ago in the line of duty, and an Enforcer sister lost in a freak accident, and drew their own conclusions.
My personal favorite rumor was—that an enchantress cursed our family during one of my parents’ team’s supply runs outside the walls, and we were all doomed to die tragically.
I knew the truth of Irene’s death. But both things could be true. Maybe our family was cursed.
Rubbing my eyes as though I could physically rub the exhaustion right out of them, I examined the thick book in my hand.
A collection of crumpled notes, handwritten musings, and pencil sketches that together made a guide to the habits of marsh wolves.
As I skimmed each line, my attention occasionally catching on the drawings of the scaly beasts, I wondered for probably the millionth time what Pre-Awakening people would think of our attempts at books.
In comparison to the hundred-year-old hardcover reference guide on normal, Pre-Awakening wolves that I was using for comparison…
well, I could compare the two species of wolves all I wanted, but there was no comparison between the books.
After I finished skimming through the guide, I jotted down a few notes in my spiral notebook and moved on to the next one. My assignment today was to gather information on the mating habits of marsh wolves, and I was relishing it.