Razorland Book 1 - Page 18

“Here?” I asked.

“Let’s check it out.” He ran up three stairs to the door; it swung open when he tried it. But he stumbled away, one hand pressed to his face. “Stay back. There’s a reason n.o.body has claimed this place.”

The distance we covered seemed incredible to me. All the while, I fought my urge to panic. I couldn’t be up here. To combat the feeling, I focused on the new sights. Something flapped above us in the dark and I ducked down, curling myself into a ball.

“What was that?”

Fade was smiling. “It’s a bird. They can’t eat you. You’re too big.”

It sailed upward, riding the wind. The wings showed in silhouette, tapered and graceful. I marveled at the existence of such a marvelous creature, and wondered how it must feel to move like that, all elegance and velocity.

“All the old stories are true,” I breathed.

“Most of them.”

We walked until my feet hurt. I saw more birds, perched on poles and buildings. Rusted metal wrecks sat here and there along the street. Fade told me they were called cars and they’d once owned the surface we walked on. I found that hard to believe. Plants had forced their way through the cracks, giving the rock a mossy, uneven look.

The sky had begun to lighten by the time we found a building that didn’t smell terrible and didn’t bear any gang markings. Fade tried the door, but it was locked.

“Maybe there’s another way in?”

We circled and found in the back something Fade called a window—low enough for me to slide through. Fade wanted to, but it was too small. I waved off his concern.

“I’m a Huntress,” I said, out of habit. “I’ll be fine.”

And then it hit me all over again. I had no right to call myself that. I squashed the sadness and let him boost me up. The window slid open and I wormed my way through it. I hung upside down and managed to twist to my feet as I dropped. On the way down, I banged my shoulder on the wall.

When I got my bearings, I saw I stood in a dark room, but I could make out the shape of the door. Even the dark didn’t seem as black as it had down below. Maybe there were benefits to being Topside. I avoided the junk: dusty piles of broken gla.s.s and items that had rotted away or crumbled into dust. Still there were a few things I recognized like eating utensils, bottles, plates, and cups in different colors and patterns. The Wordkeeper would die of excitement if he could see this place.

After some fiddling, I managed to unfasten all the bolts, and then I opened the door to let Fade in. He joined me, redid all the latches, and then took a look around.

“It’s a storeroom. I think this was a shop of some kind.”

“A shop?”

“Where people traded.”

It sounded like a good idea. At the enclave, we’d held a shop on a regular basis in the common room, where we could examine what everyone else had and then barter for it with our best items. But if you lived in different buildings, people needed a place to gather and trade.

“Let’s take a look around.”

I led the way out, down a dark hall and into a bigger room. Metal shelves—we’d scavenged a few like that over the years—stood mostly empty. There were only a few tins left, nothing familiar, though, nothing I’d ever seen before. Broken gla.s.s crunched underfoot. Another door led to a waste closet, but this one didn’t smell like the other. Nearby, Fade twisted a handle but nothing happened.

“There used to be water, sometimes,” he said. “We used to drink it, my dad and me, but then he got sick.”

“From drinking that?”

“Maybe. I was a brat. There was a lot of stuff he didn’t tell me.”

“I have a little water to tide us over. Turn around.” Without asking why, he did. I struggled out of the leather harness. “Twist gave it to me. It has water pouches. The meat is gone, but I still have these.”

“Why? He risked everything by doing that.”

“I know.”

“I wish I could thank him.”

“I did for both of us. Let’s see what else there is here.”

We found another doorway off the hallway leading from the back room. I hadn’t seen it the first time because I wasn’t used to tunnels leading anywhere else. Fade noticed it and opened the door. Stairs led up.

“I thought this building had another level,” he murmured, and went jogging upward.

I didn’t know if going higher sounded like a great idea, but I wanted to stay by myself even less. Out of habit, I counted as I climbed, even though I could see perfectly well up here.

The steps opened into what I’d call a private living s.p.a.ce. By my standards, it was unbelievably luxurious. Only the elders would’ve had something so nice in the enclave, but even they wouldn’t have gotten this much s.p.a.ce. The room must’ve been sixteen feet long and almost that wide. I recognized the objects as furniture, but I had to ask Fade their names.

I burned with embarra.s.sment when he grinned and pointed. “Sofa. Chair. Table.”

The sofa felt amazing when I sank onto it, despite its musty smell. Not even my rag pallet had been so soft. Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes. I could hear Fade moving around, checking the place out.

“There’s another room,” he said. “We can each have our own s.p.a.ce.”

“I’ll take the sofa.”

He sat down beside me. “So you had questions before.”

That sounded like an invitation to ask whatever I wanted. “You were born Topside … how long did you live here?”

“Eight or nine years? And then after my dad died, it got too dangerous. They chased me down into the tunnels, where I just … lost myself.” His eyes went dark and distant, as if the memories required careful handling.

I remembered how he’d been when the Hunters found him, barely human. Living alone in the dark for years would do that. I marveled once again that he’d survived.

“Why did you stay with us when you didn’t want to join the gangs?”

“The elders didn’t give me a choice,” he said. “Well, they did, technically. Once the Hunters caught me, they said I could fight for them or die.”

“Oh.” No wonder he’d hated us. We’d held him prisoner.

“I’m bigger now, and I’ve learned to protect myself. It’ll be different when we run across the gangs again.”

“What’s so bad about them? I mean, how do they compare with the enclave?” I still ached with disillusionment.

He half turned to face me, his arm resting behind my head. “You know all the rules you believed in? They exist to keep you safe, and the elders only want what’s best for everyone?”

I nodded, barely managing to restrain a flinch. “What about them?”

“The gangs have none. It’s … ugly, Deuce. My dad had weapons and they left us alone. Once he was gone, they were determined to recruit me. They don’t always take care of their brats. Sometimes…” His eyes bored into mine, as if willing me not to make him say it.

A shudder rolled through me. “Oh.”

At the enclave, there had been rare instances where the elders discovered the Breeders were twisted in that way. Those Breeders weren’t just exiled; they were also cut so the Freaks found them faster.

“You can see why I didn’t want to be initiated.”

I would’ve fought against it pretty fiercely myself. “Tell me what you know about the gangs. What we’ll be up against.”

“They’ll want to breed you,” he said without looking at me. “The only way to advance is to kill and keep killing until there’s n.o.body tougher than you left alive.”

“So it’s not like the enclave, where age is a sign of wisdom.”

He laughed. “No. We’d be considered elders. People don’t live very long.”

“But not because of sickness or age.”

“No. In the gangs, they kill you because you have something they want or you’re just standing in their way.”

“They must breed a lot to make up for it.”

Fade brushed my hair back, grazing the curve of my jaw. The heat of his fingertips sent a tingle through me. I tipped my head to one side so that his palm landed on the nape of my neck. His thumb skimmed along the tender skin, making me s.h.i.+ver. By the time he drew back slowly, I’d almost forgotten what we were talking about.

“That’s all they think girls are good for. There are no rules about it up here, either. You have no power.”

Pure cold seized me. So that was what he’d meant about it being dangerous in a different way. Up here being female meant something else entirely. The marks on my arms wouldn’t give anyone pause, but maybe my skill with a weapon would.

“I don’t think I can take any more answers tonight,” I admitted without looking up.

“You know the important stuff now.”

“Wait. Maybe one more.”

“Go ahead.”

“How did you get your name?” I’d always wondered.

For a moment I thought he wouldn’t answer, because according to enclave rules, it was an intrusive question. If I hadn’t been present, hadn’t contributed to the stack of gifts, then it should wait until he volunteered the information. But we didn’t live by their regulations anymore.

He delved into his bag and came with a tattered strip of paper. I took it, held it to the faint light, which was just strong enough to make out the shape of letters. They were so old that many of them had worn away:

C l rs w l n t fade.

His blood speckled lightly on the final word. I fingered the silky slickness of the paper, nothing like what we made in the enclave. It shone in the dark. He had attended my naming or I would produce my card. But he’d seen. He knew. Feeling honored, I handed the talisman back to him.

“It came off an old bottle,” he said. “But that was too big to carry around, so I peeled off the paper.”

“Do you know what it says?”

He stroked the edges with his thumbs; I could actually see the darker imprint where he’d done that often since his naming. “I think it says, ‘Colors will not fade.’”

To me, it sounded like a wonderful message, a promise of loyalty and fidelity. His colors would not fade or change, no matter what. The name fit someone who wouldn’t leave his partner, even when she disappeared in the dark, and who wouldn’t let her go Topside alone.

“It suits you.” I paused, wondering if I should ask. Maybe he didn’t remember. Maybe he wouldn’t tell me. “What did your sire call you?”

“Like you said, I’m Fade now. I’d rather not go back.”

I understood. A dead man had given the old name to him. It didn’t seem like a good idea to speak it. When he put his arm around me, I didn’t resist. He waited a beat, as if gauging my reaction, and then he eased his head against mine. Sorrow cloaked him, losses I could neither see or know.

Such closeness felt new … and intimate. It had been different with Thimble and Stone, none of the awareness that p.r.i.c.kled through me with restless sweetness. Because he seemed to need me, even if it went unspoken, I let myself answer by turning my cheek to his and I remembered the kiss.