7
We spend the entire day bouncing over the landscape.
The constant movement is disorienting without sight, and being blindfolded makes me feel more vulnerable than I expected.
Every so often, Rook reaches over to squeeze my hand to reassure me that he’s close, as if I could forget the way I’m pressed up against him with his strong thigh against mine and his scent filling my nose.
No one says much, and eventually I doze off.
It isn’t until the jeep slows down that I wake up, my head lifting from Rook’s shoulder. My mouth is dry, coated in fuzz, and my temple throbs. I wonder how many hours we’ve been driving.
“I’m taking this off now,” Rook says. “She has no idea where we are.”
When no answer comes, I feel the knot loosen at the back of my head, and the blindfold falls away. I blink a few times, noticing the sun has set.
Clouds are rolling in overhead, the rumble of thunder echoing in the distance.
I scratch my arms absentmindedly as I take in the landscape.
It’s shifted, no longer resembling barren ground.
We’re driving through lusher forest, with larger trees and green grass.
It seems obvious that the farther we get from New Manhattan, the more life we find.
I wonder where these other cities are.
How far away are they? How far does the Veil stretch?
“Are we there yet?” I ask, my voice rough from sleep.
“A little way to go,” Percy says as he smiles at me over his shoulder.
“There are so many trees,” I say.
Everyone shares an uncomfortable look, and I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment. Rook gently takes my hand. “These parts weren’t submerged under water for as long.”
Again, I’m forced to reconcile another lie.
We were told there’s nothing out here. Not just a lack of humanity but a lack of anything at all.
That our little haven is the only habitable strip of land left.
I hate this feeling of utter helplessness and confusion.
I feel like such a fool for believing any of it.
A scream of frustration bubbles up my throat. I must not be hiding it very well because Calliope pins me with a disdainful look, so I swallow it all down like flat rocks jammed in my windpipe.
We pass another encampment, much like the one we left. More people. More life. Percy honks as we pass, and I catch a few waves and friendly faces, but that’s probably only because they don’t realize who’s squished into the middle seat.
When lights appear on the horizon, I sense a shift in the jeep’s atmosphere.
Rook sits forward, clearly anticipating this arrival.
I can’t imagine how much he missed his family while he was at Amery.
It makes me think of mine. I wonder where my mom and dad are.
They must realize I’m missing by now. Do they have any idea where I’ve gone?
What would they say if they knew I escaped to the Wastes with a Solitude?
What would they say if I told them the truth about all of this?
A moment later, the source of light becomes clear over the horizon.
A mountain rises from the earth, spearing into the sky.
But this is no benign formation—it looks like a fortress.
Dozens of swinging bridges and ladders crisscross the surface of the rock, all lit by flickering lamps.
I spy people everywhere I look, climbing up and down, entering and exiting small doors carved into the mountainside.
A high chain-link fence cordons off a massive opening at the base, the entire thing buzzing with silver electricity. Along the foot of the mountains, large buildings and towers rise into a sky slowly swirling with storm clouds.
“Welcome to Cloudspire. Home sweet home,” Percy declares as we rumble up to a gate manned by several guards.
Their uniforms match, made from the same molded black leather, and dark makeup lines their eyes.
They carry stunners—the kind I’m more familiar with, used by The Shield’s Circle Guard and New Manhattan’s Patrol.
Percy brings us to a stop before a guard approaches and peers into the jeep. He clearly recognizes everyone until his gaze falls on me.
“Who’s this?” he asks, his voice low, gruff.
“A special guest of First Lieutenant Athira,” Percy says, and it takes me several moments to process the fact that he’s referring to Rook.
First Lieutenant. Of course. Another soldier of the Veil. An officer, in fact.
The guard huffs and then waves us through.
Percy throws the jeep into gear, and we trundle past the gates.
Slowly, we approach the towering opening carved in the side of the mountain, shadows enveloping us as we enter a vast cavern.
Inside, we find a hive of activity. Several more vehicles are parked neatly in rows along one edge, their sharp corners glinting in the soft light as dozens of people move about.
I can’t help the way my jaw drops as I take it all in. Every time I think I’ve seen the last new thing, something else happens to alter my perception all over again. This is organized. This is civilization. It might not look anything like New Manhattan, but this is life.
A snort draws my attention to Calliope, who’s watching me with a disdainful look. “She really can’t believe we aren’t eating out of ditches and walking on our knuckles, can she?”
I snap my mouth shut, mortified to be caught having those exact thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble. I’m so sorry. I wish I could tell them how stupid I feel. How utterly confused and angry I am. I’m burning with the need to know why we were lied to, why the truth was deemed too dangerous for us.
Percy brings the vehicle to a stop in a line of other jeeps and cuts the engine.
Immediately, Fisher and Calliope hop out.
I inhale a fortifying breath, suddenly terrified of leaving the safety of this warm enclosure.
It feels like there are two versions of me.
The one I am right now sitting in this seat, and the one I’ll become as soon as I enter Cloudspire.
I’m afraid that neither version will recognize itself ever again.
“Poet?” comes a soft voice. It’s Rook. He’s standing outside the jeep, waiting for me. He holds out his hand, and I reach for it, letting him pull me across the seat.
When my feet hit the ground, I keep my balance for a fleeting second, but my knees wobble, and I stumble.
Rook catches me, his arms wrapping around me, his hands settling at the small of my back.
I flatten my palms against his chest and lean into him, my forehead pressing against the ridge of his collarbone as he holds me for a moment.
I feel his nose bury into my hair, and my body craves the comfort of his arms and that safety I found in our dorm room at Amery.
“Ready?” Rook asks. “I can’t wait for my mom and dad to meet you.”
My head snaps up as he tips his head with a hopeful smile.
Oh shit.
His parents.