Turning in place, I scanned the raucous crowd around me. There was no way Shade had time to make it across the Saloon to the stairs. I pushed through the swaying bodies to check the card tables that ran along the far wall. He could have mingled in with the gamblers, yet I saw no dark, bald head among them and Shade didn’t seem like a man who would crouch under a table. But there was nowhere else to hide. The exterior wall was one big bank of windows, looking out onto a twilight sea. The Hive started at the first catwalk, so he couldn’t have crawled into a berth without first climbing the stairs.
“Looking for someone?” asked the dark-haired outlaw. He had the carefree attitude of a floater.
“Yes.” I closed the distance between us. These two might be in Shade’s gang but they weren’t escaped convicts. Both were too young to have been in prison five years ago. They looked barely old enough to be in the Saloon at all.
I flashed the photo at the blue-eyed outlaw. “You recognize him, don’t you?” I asked with more confidence than I felt. “I saw it in your face at the bar.”
He didn’t betray so much as a twitch, just continued to stare at me coldly.
“Leave off, Pretty,” admonished the other outlaw. “You’re scaring the child.”
“I already said no.” Pretty’s voice was low and lethal.
“Pretty?” I stammered.
“Ain’t he just? But only on the outside.” The dark-haired man’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “I’m Eel.”
“Not your real name,” I said stupidly.
He smirked. “Wouldn’t want to complicate things.”
The gas burner in the center of the table sent up a flame, jarring me. Even more startling: The firelight brought out the glimmer in Eel’s skin.
“You have a shine!”
“You’re one to talk,” he said with a laugh.
It didn’t make sense. To build up a visible shine — even one as faint as Eel’s — took years of eating abyssal fish. Only people who lived on the ocean floor had easy access to those fish. I swung my attention to Pretty. Sure enough, now that I was looking for it, I saw the telltale shimmer in his pale skin. Yet the Seablite Gang had shown up less than a year ago.
“When did you live subsea? And where?” Benthic Territory was the only underwater settlement in the world and I knew that Eel and Pretty, under any names, had never been fellow pioneers.
A knife flashed in Pretty’s hand. Before I could react, Eel plucked the photo from my fingers. “Hey!”
“Who’s this?” he asked, studying the picture.
Keeping Pretty’s blade in view, I said, “I don’t know.” Eel raised a skeptical brow. “I don’t,” I insisted. “Some Topside girl posted it online. Says he’s a prospector in Benthic Territory. She’s offering a chunk of money to anyone who finds him.” They exchanged a look that I couldn’t interpret. I held my hand out for the photo. “If you can’t help me —”
“Where’d the other boy go?” Pretty asked.
He meant Gemma. “Nowhere. He got jumpy, so he left.”
Eel leaned back in his chair, seemingly nonchalant. “To fetch the ranger?”
I wasn’t fooled. His question was as serious as the knife in Pretty’s hand. Again, I played stupid. “Why would he do that?”
Eel’s gaze shifted past me. “No reason at all.” He flipped me the photo.
“I know you’re not giving this young’un trouble,” a familiar voice warned. I turned to find Mel behind me, wielding a shock-rifle, with its double prongs aimed at Eel’s head.
“He came over to us.” Eel put up his hands in mock surrender.
Mel waved me forward with the tip of the rifle. “And now he’s leaving you.”
“Thanks,” I whispered as I slipped past her.
“See you when you’re eighteen,” she replied.
“If he lives that long,” I heard Pretty hiss. Without looking back, I sprinted for the stairladder.
“Then poof, he was gone?” the ranger scoffed, without taking his eye from one of the many telescopes set up around the Observatory.
Here was the ranger’s chance to arrest Shade, yet Grimes seemed like he couldn’t care less.
“You have to believe me,” I fumed. I was risking the outlaws’ wrath by talking to the ranger, as well as guaranteeing that my parents would hear about me sneaking into the Saloon. Still, I had to convince Grimes to use the information. “We were face-to-face yesterday on the Peaveys’ property. The man in the Saloon is Shade.”
The Observatory was walled with glass. Only the elevator shaft in the center of the trapezoidal room kept the view from being nonstop ocean and horizon. I had ditched the roustabout jumpsuit but Gemma was still wearing the dirty red sweatshirt and baggy pants. She sat calmly enough on the bench that bounded the entire space and kept her face hidden inside her hood. Still, I could tell that she was itching to leave the ranger’s office.
Straightening, Ranger Grimes glared at me. “What were you and your cousin even doing on the Rec Deck? Don’t try to tell me either one o’ you is eighteen.”
It took me a second to realize he meant Gemma. I knew she’d come up with something. “It’s his first visit,” I said. “I wanted to show him —”
“How to waste a government official’s time?” Grimes asked with a derisive snort. “There ain’t but one way out of the Saloon, boy, and that’s up the stairs. So where’d your outlaw go?”
“I told you, I don’t know.” I gritted my teeth. Another adult treating me like a kid.
“And aside from that, the man is albino,” Grimes said in a patronizing tone. “Everyone he’s ever robbed says so.”
“He must smear his face with zinc-paste,” I guessed. “So he can drink in the Saloon and no one will recognize him.”
“You did. Or so you say.”
“By the shape of his face.”
Ranger Grimes shot me a dubious look.
“Sometimes,” I explained haltingly, “I don’t see things in color.”
“You’re color-blind … sometimes?”
“Yeah. So, I focus on the contours of an object.” I stole another glance at Gemma, but she didn’t seem to be paying attention. She was too busy patting the glass wall as if to assure herself that it was impossible to fall onto the Surface Deck several stories below. “Look, I know for a fact he’s Shade,” I told Grimes. “Will you at least go down to the lower station and look for him?”
“You people give me the bends.”
Gemma’s hand froze midpat. “What people?” she asked gruffly.
“Not you. The Dark Life.” Grimes pointed at me. “They’re all oxygen deprived. Especially the kids.”
“They don’t like to be called Dark Life.” Her chin tilted mutinously.
“How long have you been here visiting? A day? Stick around, you’ll see. Living in the dark makes them crazy. Makes them see things that aren’t there.”
“Ty doesn’t live in the dark.”
“He sure don’t live in the sunshine.” Ranger Grimes faced me. “What’s the longest you ever been Topside, boy? A whole day? Not even. A supply run takes six hours round-trip.”
“I lived Topside for four months.”
The ranger sauntered over to Gemma. “It’s the water pressure, you know.” He pressed his hand on the top of her head. “Pushing down on them all the time. It scrambles their brains.”
She ducked from under his palm. “You live down here.”
“Thank you for your time, Ranger Grimes.” I waved her toward the elevator.
“I live here,” the ranger corrected, pointing upward to indicate his rooms on the floor above. “And I don’t swim around on the ocean floor. If we was supposed to fill up our lungs with liquid, God would have made us fish.”
Scowling, Gemma joined me by the elevator.
“I’ll fetch the sub,” I said, pressing the call button, “while you get your things.” She said nothing, just shot the ranger a dirty look over her shoulder. “You know how to get to the lounge, rig
ht?” I tugged open the stairwell door, next to the elevator. “It’s inside the Surface Deck. You have to take the stairs down —”
“I know where the lockers are.”
I let the stairwell door swing shut. “Something wrong?”
“Why’d you let him talk to you like that?” she demanded.
I glanced back to see if Grimes was listening, but no, he’d settled behind his desk and popped open a pill bottle as if we’d already left. “He’s just mad he got stationed out here.”
“That means he can treat you like crap? Why didn’t you stick up for yourself?”
“He’s a ranger.” I wished she’d lower her voice. “What was I supposed to say?”
“Tell him to shut his ignorant mouth.”
“Right. And give him a reason to think that settlers aren’t only crazy but rude.” The elevator arrived with a ding.
She hauled open the stairwell door. “Don’t you ever get sick of being so good?”
I flushed. “I’m not so good!” Not even close. But she slipped into the stairwell and banged the door closed behind her.
“Is there a problem with that elevator, boy?” the ranger shouted from his desk.
Without replying, I stepped into the transparent cylinder and hit the button for the Access Deck. As the doors closed, I slumped against the center column and inhaled deeply. The elevator dropped out of the tower, speeding down the cable, past the inner docking-ring. I looked for Gemma on the suspended footbridges but didn’t see her before the elevator plunged beneath the ocean’s surface.
“I figured you for dead,” said a low rumble of a voice.
My heart sat up in my chest.
I whirled to find Shade, leaning against the elevator’s transparent wall, his dark eyes gleaming like a shark’s. The center column had hidden him from view.
“I left you in the deep sea.” Shade’s voice was rich. Hypnotic. “Without a vehicle, without a weapon.” His thickly muscled arms were crossed over his bare chest. “How come you’re still alive?”
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
Water surrounded the elevator, giving the interior an eerie glow. Frozen in place, I registered every detail of the outlaw. The pockmarked skin. The black tattoos that covered Shade’s head, neck, and shoulders like tentacles. And his perfectly normal, dark brown eyes. No wonder he wore black contact lenses when he was trying to pass for albino.
I backed away. “I don’t know what you’re —” “Don’t ink me.” He punched a knuckle onto the EMERGENCY STOP button. The elevator jerked to a halt halfway down the cable. “I know when I’ve been made.”
His anger was no more than a flash but it was enough to terrify me into dropping all pretenses. “What do you want?”
“Let’s start with what you told the ranger.”
“About?” I slid my fingers toward my knife holster, refusing to panic.
“You’ve seen the real me. That’s got to be worth a pat on the head.” The outlaw stepped forward. “Considering that Grimes has been swimming in circles for over a year, searching for an albino.” Dropping his gaze, Shade burned my hand with his stare.
“I told him you’re dark skinned.” I straightened, leaving my knife in its holster. Only then did Shade raise his gaze. “But he didn’t believe me.”
“That so?” Shade drawled.
I tried to cop Eel’s nonchalant attitude in the Saloon. “Ranger Grimes hates all settlers. Thinks we’re crazy and stupid for living subsea.” I could swear that the outlaw’s tattoos were now moving, sliding over his arms, writhing like sea snakes. “He kicked me out of his office for wasting his time.” I blinked and Shade’s tattoos were back in place.
“You didn’t answer me,” Shade chided.
“Yes, I —”
“Anyone else would have gotten lost in the open ocean. Eaten. But not you. Why?”
“Luck,” I said.
A ghost of a smile floated over his lips. “Some might call it a gift.” He studied me for a moment. “A Dark Gift.”
“There’s no such thing,” I said stiffly. “Dark Gifts are a myth.”
White teeth gleamed in the shadows as he circled the column.
“I should know,” I went on, following him with my eyes. “If any kid would have one, it would be me. I was born subsea.”
“Now that’s interesting….”
As I twisted to keep him in sight, Shade grabbed me by the back of the neck. “Here I was planning on choking the life out of you.” His tone was as harsh as his hold. “To keep you quiet … forever.”
I felt my pulse throbbing under his fingertips.
“But you’re born-and-bred Dark Life,” he went on, “and that’s something.” His fingers bit into my flesh. “Don’t you ever”—his grip tightened—“let anyone tell you different. Especially not some government stooge.” He released me and knuckled the emergency button again.
As the elevator resumed its descent, I clenched my teeth to hold in a cough. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
Smirking, Shade eyed me as if he knew exactly what I was doing. “Kid, I’m giving you one chance. One.” The elevator doors slid open. “Talk about me again—I will kill you.”
With that, he stepped out of the elevator and disappeared into the shadows.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Still shaken from my encounter with Shade, I zoomed the Slicky to the surface and crashed through the waves. Why had he let me go? Why hadn’t he killed me?
It wasn’t mercy.
No, it was something else. But I wasn’t sure what.
When the spray settled around the egg-shaped minisub, I saw Gemma standing on the docking-ring with a large duffel bag by her feet. Her back to me, she stomped out of the stained, baggy pants and kicked them through an open door, into the visitors’ lounge.
I steered the Slicky into a vacant slip several hitching posts down from her and popped the hatch. Though it was only midafternoon, the sky was as dark as dusk, which was more than fine with me. I tipped my face toward the gray clouds and welcomed the feel of rain on my skin. Water in any form cleared my mind. Even the throb in my neck where Shade had gripped me dulled.
There was no fish market on the weekends, so the Surface Deck was nearly deserted—exactly how I liked it. Only a couple of fishermen fought their way through the downpour.
As I stood on the seat, a chill slid over me. Not a stiff breeze, but a sense of alarm. Why? I scanned the Surface Deck. Something was wrong with the view, though exactly what, I couldn’t tell.
“Gemma!” I yelled. “Over —” The words shriveled in my throat as movement caught my eye. On the promenade, a dark form glided against the backdrop of gray sky. Its outline was human, but the figure was featureless. A shadow, yet there was no sun out, or man nearby to cast it.
“Ty!” She waved, oblivious to the patch of night that grew larger as it neared the railing above her. Scooping up her duffel, she sprinted down the docking-ring toward me. The shadow halted. When it raised its head to watch her go, I gasped. Twin red embers blazed where its eyes should have been … and then the embers were extinguished, and the shadow disappeared.
“Are you really going to tell the other settlers that Shade isn’t an albino?” Gemma asked after I’d filled her in. It was fifteen minutes since the strange shadow had passed. The Slicky dropped through the sunlit water toward the dark blue of the deep.
“As soon as we get home.”
“But Shade said he’d kill you!”
“I don’t care what he said. I don’t obey outlaws. Or keep their secrets.” I leveled off the minisub at a depth of seventy feet, where only the brightest rays of sunlight pierced the water, but we weren’t likely to run into any divers or fishing nets.
“But what if he comes after you?”
“I hope he does. There are over two hundred homesteads down here. If Shade searches every one, looking for me, someone is bound to harpoon him.”
“He might wait for you to s
how up at the Trade Station again.”
That thought tightened my gut. “Maybe. But if the settlers know he isn’t albino, maybe we can catch him. With Shade in jail, Benthic Territory will have a chance.”
“You mean your parents will stay and you’ll be able to stake a claim in three years.”
“Two and a half. Yeah. That’s what I’m hoping,” I admitted.
“Well, I hope he gets eaten by a killer whale.”
“Orcas don’t eat people.” Steering with one hand, I unzipped the pouch on my belt. “I still have your brother’s photo.” As I offered it to her, I realized that my impression of the skinny, freckled boy had changed. Yesterday, I’d only noticed that her brother shared her russet hair and blue eyes. Now, I saw the twinkle in Richard’s eyes and that his smile was genuine and warm. Of course, now I knew that he’d jeopardized his freedom to make sure that his little sister didn’t feel abandoned.
“It would be easier if he was more distinctive looking,” Gemma said, taking the photo. “Like you.”
Her words packed the pain of a sucker punch. “I’m not distinctive looking.”
Her lips twitched.
“Except for my shine, I look totally normal.” I knew I sounded defensive but I couldn’t help it. Gemma snickered and heat flashed through me. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Yes,” she said emphatically. “You think those women yesterday wanted to touch you just because of your skin?”
“They’d never seen a shine before. It happens all the time.” Why did she insist on talking about things I’d just as soon forget?
“You’re so stupid,” she said, barely containing her amusement. “If we were on the mainland, girls would break my arm to stand next to you.”
“If you’re trying to say they’d like me, you’re wrong. Mainland girls visit the Trade Station. Not often, but if I come along when they’re there, know what happens? They stop doing whatever they’re doing and stare.”