37
My eyes peel open to soft light and the sound of a steady beep. I’m lying in bed under a blanket. Someone appears above me, and I blink a few times before I realize it’s Rook.
I groan as he smooths back the hair on my forehead and presses his warm lips to my cold skin. “I was so worried,” he breathes against me. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”
It takes me a moment to remember what happened. We were on the Storm Tower, and everything went wrong. Those clouds were supernatural. That storm was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. General Sol fainted, I think?
“Henry,” I gasp, recalling the moment he was hit.
“He’s fine,” Rook says, leaning in close. “I promise. You’re both fine.”
I hear footsteps, and then Rook shifts aside to reveal Dr. Eze.
I shake my head, wondering what on earth is going on. “Dr. Eze?”
“Please, call me Ada,” she says, her smile bright as I take a moment to gauge my surroundings.
I’m in a small room with no windows. The walls are painted gray, and the floor is made of cheap white tiles.
I’m surrounded by various medical equipment, some of it hooked up to me and some to a sleeping Henry on the other side of the room, but most of it lies dormant.
“Where are we?” I ask, my voice dropping to a whisper, because several things calcify in that moment.
My suspicions about the doctor and what she knows.
The lies she told on my behalf.
“You’re in a safe house belonging to the Fog,” Ada says.
She says it so calmly, so matter-of-factly, that it almost feels intentional. I understand that whatever she’s about to reveal won’t just be big; it will be monumental, and she’s trying to stop me from freaking out.
“The Fog?” I ask. “What’s that?”
“I’ll explain everything once I’ve checked your vitals,” she says, her dark-brown eyes warm.
I want to argue. I want to demand everything immediately, but I sit still as she inspects me, testing my heart rate and my breathing.
A lump on my head is covered in bandages, but they must have given me something for the pain.
While Ada works, my gaze drifts to Henry.
“Is he really okay?” I ask.
She glances over and nods. “He was shocked pretty badly, but he should be fine in a few days. Thankfully, he was wearing one of our prototype vests, or I’m not sure I could say the same.”
I huff out a breath of relief. I remember the vests they showed us during our last simulation at the Tempestade. They killed Hollows to prove the vests worked. It was horrible and unnecessarily cruel, but I’m also glad it just saved Henry’s life.
We all wait silently while the doctor finishes her assessment, and then she steps back.
“What happened?” I ask, touching my throbbing temple.
“Have some of these,” Ada says, handing over a few painkillers. “You bumped your head when you fell, but it looks like it’s just a bruise. No concussion.”
“What about the Spark I touched?” I ask, and as soon as the words are out, I slap my hand over my mouth. “I mean. I—”
“Poet,” Ada says, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay. I know what you are. I’ve known it since the first day of cadet training. You’re a Storm Caller. And so is Rook.”
Rook and I share a confused glance. How does she know that?
She smiles, and it’s so reassuring that something collapses in my chest, easing a tight knot of worry I’ve been carrying around like a boulder since I was seven years old.
“You know,” I say. “And you protected us.”
“That’s my job,” she says. “Along with every member of the Fog.”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”
“I know you have a lot of questions, and if you’re feeling up for it, I’d like to bring your friends in here so I can explain.”
“Domino and Journey are . . . here?” I say, realizing they must have seen everything.
As Ada leaves to retrieve them, I peer up at Rook, who must read the worry in my eyes.
“It’ll be fine,” he promises, but I’m not so sure about that.
“Poet!” Domino exclaims when my friends appear. She hugs me, followed by Journey, and then Ada sets up some chairs and asks them to sit. Rook remains standing, his hand clasped around mine.
“What’s going on?” Journey asks when no one speaks at first.
Ada glances at Henry sleeping in the corner and then breathes out a sigh.
“Let’s start at the beginning.” She pulls up another chair, settles into it, and looks each of us in the eye.
“About twenty years ago, my partner was taken by the Extinguishers. She was a Keeper who’d been living in hiding for years.
She hadn’t even confided the truth to me, but one day they arrived and took her away while she was screaming and apologizing for lying.
Obviously, I forgave her. I understood why she’d kept it from me. ”
“What happened to her?” Rook asks.
“I never saw her again,” Ada says with a shake of her head.
“But it was shortly after that I realized my true purpose in life. She needed help, not condemnation. I understand that it’s simply easier for The Shield to dispose of Keepers, but I couldn’t abide the lack of humanity in this so-called solution.
“I refused to let my partner’s death be in vain, so I started this movement known as the Fog.
The intention was to learn more about Keepers without The Shield’s involvement, but more importantly, to protect them.
My people have spent years trying to identify Keepers before the Extinguishers could find them and either get them safely out of the city or do our best to conceal them if they choose to remain in New Manhattan. ”
She stops and gives us a moment to allow those words to sink in. I’m too stunned to speak. I suspected some of this. I knew she saw something in the lab that day when she was testing my resistance.
“What do you mean, get them out of the city?” Rook asks. “Where do they go?”
“We run a network of safe houses. Eventually, most make their way to one of the Neo-Cities where they can start new lives.”
The look on Rook’s face suggests he knew nothing about this. I can tell he wants to ask more but is wary of revealing too much about where he comes from.
“I thought the Extinguishers sent them out of the city,” I ask. “Sometimes?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Ada says, her dark brows drawing together.
“The woman I rescued the day of my initiation test,” I say. “They said they’d get her out . . .”
My words trail off. I wondered if they were lying to me that night, but I . . . How could I have believed them?
“I’m sorry,” Ada says.
“Skies,” I whisper, pressing a hand to my chest.
Ada swallows thickly before she continues.
“Like many in this city, we don’t agree with the methods used to deal with Keepers.
It hasn’t been easy, but we’ve tried to find ways to protect as many as we can.
” She presses her hands to her knees, her gaze shifting between Rook and me.
“There are more in hiding than you realize, and if you’re okay with it, I’d like to introduce you to a few of them, along with some other members of the Fog. ”
I open my mouth and then close it, exchanging a glance with Rook. He nods and squeezes my fingers.
“Yes,” I say. “Of course we want to meet them.”
Ada’s answering smile crinkles the corners of her eyes. “Perfect.”
Then she’s on her feet, calling for someone beyond the door.
A moment later, several more people enter the room, including our trainers Brooklyn and Chandler, along with Danica and several other Storm Breakers.
They form a loose circle around the edge of the small room, almost like they’re stone pillars protecting a field of wildflowers.
“Wait,” Journey says. “These people are all . . . Keepers?”
Her eyes widen, and she reaches for Domino, clearly prepared to bolt.
“Not everyone, but I assure you that you’re perfectly safe,” Ada says.
“And your reaction right now is rooted in propaganda spread by The Shield to ensure you’re all willing to turn in anyone you might suspect.
We’ve lost count of the number of people who’ve been wrongly accused, but questions are rarely asked before people are taken. ”
“Poet . . .” Domino says softly. “You were hit by Spark, and you’re . . .”
“I’m fine,” I say, gripping the blanket.
“That means your trial was wrong?”
“No,” I answer. “Not technically. I’m not a Keeper. I’m . . . a Storm Caller.”
A ripple circles through the room, and it’s obvious these words mean something to everyone here.
“And so am I,” Rook adds. He didn’t have to admit it, but he’s standing beside me, lending his support, and Skies, how I love him for it.
I watch Journey’s face turn pale as she exchanges a bewildered look with Domino. Aside from the Extinguishers, this is another thing I’ve always dreaded. That the people I’ve trusted and called friends might look at me with that same fear.
“What’s that?” Domino whispers, tears building in her eyes. I understand this must be a lot to come to terms with. I know I’m struggling, and I already knew some of it.
I’m not sure where to begin, but thankfully Ada steps in.
“I can explain,” she says. “We’ve always had reason to believe that the genetic anomalies that create Keepers also create another branch of evolution resistant to the storms. My suspicions started when I was working closely with the general, and nothing about her made sense.
Her abilities have never quite lined up with those of typical Keepers.
They’re close enough that it would be easy to miss the differences, but I didn’t.
The fact that she’s sixty-four and has resisted the madness for this long .
. .” The doctor shakes her head. “No amount of ‘mental fortitude’ could account for that. It’s like saying you could stop yourself from getting the flu if you just tell the germs to go away.
“Eventually, I confronted her about it,” she continues. “She had no choice but to confess, but she swore me to secrecy and forbade me from doing any more research and ever mentioning it again.”
“And did you keep those promises?” I ask.
Ada’s eyes spark. “I didn’t.” She spreads her hands. “But it’s all been for nothing, because I’ve found very little information about Callers.”
“Did she ask you to lie for me during my trial?”
Ada nods. “She doesn’t know about the Fog, but she understands I am sympathetic to Keepers, so she asked for my help.”
“And Henry and Danica?”
“They were also in on it, though most of what we all said was true. It was simply a matter of presenting the information favorably.”
“I see . . .”
“Why not bring the general into your confidence about this?” Rook asks, gesturing around the room.
Ada inhales deeply, and I feel like it’s costing her something to confess this.
“General Sol is protective of Keepers, but she is still The Shield. Though I am privy to some of her secrets, I know there are many things she’ll never reveal to me willingly.”
I exchange a glance with Rook. How much can we tell them?
“Did anyone else see me?” I ask. “When I fell?”
Ada shakes her head. “No one who will turn you in,” she assures me. “Most of the Breakers on that Tower were our people. That was intentional. Henry knew you’d be at risk.”
“And the Guards?”
“Like I said. There are more of us than you think.”
“What’s the Fog’s ultimate goal?” Rook asks.
Ada’s dark gaze assesses him. The harsh fluorescent lights wash out her ebony skin, or maybe she’s simply exhausted. “That is a many-layered answer that perhaps is best left to another discussion.”
Rook nods. She’s trusting us with some information, but not everything. Not yet.
I think about General Sol. She is keeping things from the doctor, and Ada is perhaps right to be wary. I recall the general stumbling and falling on the screen before the video glitched. Either I imagined it or the feed was doctored. Did anyone else see it?
Rook squeezes my hand, and I hear his unspoken words. We need to discuss this in private before we reveal anything.
“This is a lot to take in,” I say, hopefully buying us some time.
“Of course it is,” Dr. Eze says. “If you’re feeling well enough, I think it’s best if the four of you return to Amery right away.
Your absence will be noted, and I assume I don’t need to explain that our existence must be kept a secret or you’d be putting all of us at risk.
We took a leap of faith in showing ourselves tonight. ”
She pins us with a hard look, and we all nod.
“Of course,” Rook answers. “Your secrets are safe with us.”
“Thank you. If word got out, people would surely die. I know you don’t want that on your conscience.”
It’s not an open threat, but the implications are clear.
I can’t help but notice how carefully Domino and Journey are watching Rook and me right now.
I wonder what they’re thinking.
We’ve been lying to them, and now they’ve been dragged into this.
How much can we tell them, and how will they react when they finally know everything?
I throw back the blanket covering my legs and move to get up, but my head spins and my stomach lurches.
Ada chuckles. “Be careful. You took a nasty spill.” A moment later, she gestures to a wheelchair in the corner. Rook goes to retrieve it and pushes it over.
“Can you help her?” Ada asks, but Rook is already scooping me into his arms. He lifts me and holds me close, pressing his forehead to mine.
“I could just carry you?” he offers, and I laugh.
“How about you just push the chair for me?”
“Not nearly as much fun, but I suppose it’ll have to do.”
He gently settles me into the seat, and then he wheels me across the room.
“He’ll be—” I ask, gesturing to Henry, who looks so peaceful where he lies.
“I swear to you he’s fine,” Ada says. “Just give him a few days.”
I nod, taking in the faces of these people who I thought I knew.
I thought they were ordinary citizens caught in the same rigid clockwork that makes our world function, but I realize there isn’t anything ordinary about a single person here.
These people have been out there quietly making a difference.
The Fog.
They’re fighting back.
And . . . I will do everything in my power to be a part of that.