Chapter 11 #2
I decide to leave these questions for later – since I definitely won’t be able to find the answers in the field.
What I do learn, though, is how to implant Stella’s sensors.
Julian also teaches me with undeniable glee how to find and destroy sensors from other kingdoms, and I do get a sense of satisfaction from doing something useful.
Or something destructive. And I don’t want to think too closely about the reasons why trashing something makes me feel happy.
Late in the afternoon, Julian is sitting on a rock, his feet dangling, toying with his ART while I replace yet another sensor.
‘Hey, Julian,’ I call.
‘Yeah?’
‘I just figured out why you taught me to do this. It’s so you can sit around while I do all the work.’
He chuckles. ‘You’ve got it, sugar. That’s it.’
I roll my eyes and finish setting up the parameters.
Julian curses.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask.
‘Team Silver just pulled ahead of us in the rankings.’
‘What a tragedy,’ I say, but I don’t really see it. For me, second place is a brilliant place to be.
Julian puts his ART away and checks my work. ‘Good job, Ellie,’ he says. ‘And that was the last of them. Time to head back to camp.’
Yes, and cry on each other’s shoulders that we’re in second place. But to be honest, I am itching to find Mace and pick up where we left off.
When we arrive back, Mace is conspicuously absent. I wolf down a pack of lentils from my backpack and then open up the map on my ART to go in search of him. There’s no point in calling him through the bean, because he’ll just avoid me.
No, I need to corner him.
I follow the golden point on my map until I find a broad spring, willow trees dotted along its steep shores.
I angle my ART this way and that, because according to the coordinates, he should be less than three feet from me. Yet, I can’t see any sign of him.
He should be right here, a few steps from me, his golden dot almost superimposed with mine.
There’s a sharp whistle and I look towards the sky. Mace is sitting high in the sturdy tree right in front of me, his back to the trunk, a leg slung lazily across the branch. ‘Hasn’t your team captain taught you to look up? Hasn’t he warned you of the dangers lurking in the trees?’
‘I think he forgot to mention that,’ I say, surveying the tree before me and deciding that I can climb it, too.
Hopefully.
‘I think he mentioned it more than once, and you weren’t paying attention,’ he says, his tone a tinge sour. Is this about Team Silver overtaking us?
I claw myself up the tree’s trunk, pulling myself up by the lower, hanging branches. It’s by no means as easy as it seemed at first, and my puny arms can barely hold my own weight, but I consider that just last week I wouldn’t have even been able to attempt this.
This is progress.
‘What are you doing up here?’ I ask, panting with the effort of swinging myself up.
‘I’m doing some old-fashioned scouting,’ he says. ‘With my eyes.’
‘Ha-ha,’ I say. ‘I’m pretty sure not even the Founders did this kind of scouting.
’ The next row of branches would likely cost me a lot of lifting and heaving, so I decide I can hear him fine from where I am, two branches underneath him.
He leans his head back on the tree trunk, his eyes to the sky.
I have the sinking feeling that he’s avoiding looking at me.
‘Fuck knows what the Founders were really up to.’ He sounds a little bitter. ‘Warriors being with people from other Quarters, among other things.’
Strange that he’s latching on to that. Of all the things he could have said – that’s what rankles him? I have to find out why.
‘Hey, Mace,’ I say. ‘Is there someone … special, waiting for you at The Citadel?’
He ruffles his hair, clearly unsettled by my question. ‘No,’ he says. ‘I’m not particularly good at talking to women.’
I chuckle. ‘Are you shitting me? You don’t even need to talk to women. You’re a celebrity. Half the women at The Citadel have a crush on you. You just have to crook your finger, and they’ll come running.’
‘That’s what Julian keeps saying.’
‘There you go,’ I say, even if it doesn’t thrill me to share an opinion with Julian.
‘It’s just so weird,’ Mace says, more quietly, this time.
‘I feel like I have to wrack my brains to find something to talk about. They see this poster boy, and think they know me because they’ve read a dozen online interviews about me or whatever, but they don’t, actually.
I’m not sure what they expect, but it’s not … it’s not who I am.’
And who are you? I think, because I’m not sure anymore.
Mace is so determined to keep himself walled up.
But it doesn’t seem like a good idea to ask him, not now he’s decided to really talk to me.
‘It’s all in your head, poster boy,’ I mumble instead.
‘You can talk just fine. You talk to me. You talk to Xandra.’
Mace blows his cheeks, and I could swear that a red tinge creeps up in them. ‘Xandra and I have been friends for years. And you… It’s different with you.’
I narrow my eyes at him. ‘How so?’
‘I don’t know.’ He shrugs. ‘Well, actually I do. I never have to make an effort to keep a conversation going, because you talk all the time. You could talk to a rock. I’m not sure you haven’t done that in the past, or when I’m not looking.’
‘I don’t talk to rocks,’ I say.
‘What would be so bad about making conversation with a rock?’ Mace says. ‘I mean, you always find something to talk about with me, and half the time, I don’t think you even expect me to reply.’
‘Wow, thank you, Mace,’ I say. ‘I don’t think you’ve ever managed to insult me so thoroughly and in such a short span of time. Congratulations.’
He grimaces. ‘See what I mean when I say that I’m not good at this? I was trying to pay you a compliment.’
‘Relax, mate,’ I say. ‘I was just pulling your leg.’
The corners of his mouth pull up, almost a smile. And then, his expression pinches and I can see the walls going up again, brick by brick.
‘Maybe you should get back to camp, Ellie,’ he says, looking away from me.
‘The fuck I will,’ I mutter. ‘What’s wrong, Mace?’
‘Maybe you should go talk to Allen,’ he says in an even voice.