Crewel

  ‘Where can we go?’ he asks, straightening up but leaving his hands on my back.

  ‘I’m still working on that.’

  ‘But you only have a few days,’ Jost says, kissing the top of my head.

  ‘I could weave a moment,’ I say, still pressed up against his neck.

  ‘And never leave?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Do I need to tell you why that won’t work?’

  I pull out of his arms and sigh. ‘That’s what the Guild did, and here we are,’ I point out.

  ‘On a much larger scale,’ he says, ‘and it’s not going too well.’

  ‘I know. I can’t leave without finding Amie anyway.’

  ‘Amie’s safe,’ he says, weaving his hand through mine.

  I want to believe him as much as I long to run away with him and forget everything I know about the Guild. But I can’t leave Amie in Cypress, and I know he only suggests it because he doesn’t have anything else to lose, except me. That’s about to change though. ‘Would you leave someone you loved?’ I ask, fingering the digifile in my pocket with my free hand. ‘If I leave, the Guild might . . .’

  It’s too terrible to even consider.

  ‘Why? Out of petty revenge? They have no reason to hurt her.’

  ‘Cormac said something once,’ I confide. ‘He thinks she might be useful. They’re hoping she has my abilities.’

  ‘But they’ve never proved weaving is genetic.’

  ‘I know that, but it won’t stop them from taking her. I’m not saying I have to get to her right now, but I have to keep track of her until I know what to do.’ Without realising it, I’ve grabbed a handful of Jost’s shirt, and I’m tugging on it. He loosens my hand gently and takes it in his own.

  ‘There’s nowhere for us to go,’ he reminds me. ‘They’ll just pull our sequences, and even if you could weave out a moment, how long before they break through that?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I say. Loricel said it was inevitable, but it’s the only plan I can come up with.

  ‘We need more time,’ he grumbles.

  ‘Good thing you’re with a Creweler,’ I say, giving him a half-smile.

  ‘How will you find Amie anyway? It could take you decades to comb the weave looking for her.’

  ‘I know her sequence, but the geographic locators will be different. They change that information when they perform an alteration,’ I explain.

  ‘But even if you had her information, you don’t have the clearance to pull by personal identifying sequence, do you?’ he asks.

  ‘No, but Loricel does,’ I say.

  ‘And you think she’ll let you do that?’ His tone is doubtful.

  ‘I wasn’t going to ask. How do you think I got this information?’

  ‘We need a better plan than this,’ he mutters. He drops my hands and runs his through his tangled brown hair.

  ‘I haven’t told you everything,’ I admit, but as much as I want to blurt out what I’ve found, I find myself holding back. I could ignore his past, because time separated us from it, but now that distance would be removed.

  He narrows his eyes and takes a breath. ‘Let me have it.’

  ‘I know how to find Amie.’ My hand closes around the digifile, and I pull it out of my pocket.

  ‘Didn’t Enora give you that?’

  ‘Yes, and she left me some other useful information.’ I slide open the weather files and show him the map.

  He stares at the digital image, studying it. ‘Is that the compound?’

  I answer with a nod. ‘Complete with coordinates. And I’ve already broken into the repository.’

  Jost’s head snaps up from the screen. ‘You did what?’

  ‘I got into the repository,’ I say, trying to act like this is no big deal, because he’s giving me a look that says, Have you lost your mind? ‘I can find her.’

  ‘What’s in the room?’ he asks, keeping his eyes on me.

  ‘Datasets. Info on removals and alterations.’ I don’t tell him about the thin strands in the cubes or the chills they send through me. It sounds too crazy.

  ‘And you’ve seen them?’ he presses.

  I nod and slip my hand back into my pocket. The card is still there, but I can’t bring myself to give it to him.

  ‘What did they say?’

  ‘Basic info: ID, removal dates.’ I open the first file to show him Riccard Blane’s info. ‘There’s a tracking program on here that reads the datasets.’

  ‘How do you think Enora got this program?’ he asks, pacing the small cell.

  I shrug. ‘She must have had help.’

  ‘I wonder—’ he begins.

  ‘There’s something else I have to tell you,’ I say, jumping in before I lose my nerve.

  He stops and waits.

  I stare at him for a moment before speaking. I’m not sure I’ll know the Jost who comes out on the other side of this information. ‘Here,’ I say finally, thrusting the card at him.

  Taking it, he looks up at me and frowns. ‘What’s this?’

  ‘Scan it.’ I offer him the digifile.

  I hold my breath as the dataset loads, but I know as soon as it has. His brow relaxes and his mouth opens, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he simply drops to the ground and stares at the small pad.

  ‘She’s alive,’ I say in a soft voice, because he can’t find the words.

  Most of the time Jost looks like a boy. Even when he hasn’t shaved or is dressed in a tailored suit, the curves of his face are soft and his smile quick. But here in the sharp relief of the handlight, his jaw is angular and the slightest of lines form as he squints, studying the screen. A moment later, when a smile creeps onto his face, it’s not the boyish grin I love, but something that bursts from a deeper part of him. He looks like a man.

  ‘You found her,’ he whispers, and when he looks up that unfathomable smile extends out to me.

  ‘She’s safe.’ For now, I add to myself.

  ‘She’s alive,’ he breathes, as though repeating the words will make them more real. ‘My daughter is alive.’

  ‘Amie’s in there, too,’ I say.

  ‘Can we get back in?’ he asks, unable to tear his eyes from the image.

  ‘I think so,’ I say. ‘But I’ll need your help.’

  ‘Anything,’ he promises.

  ‘Jost,’ I say, kneeling down to him, ‘I don’t know if we can get to her.’

  He cups my face and kisses me once. A new energy pulses from his lips. His touch leaves traces of fire along my body as though he’s transferred this new vitality to me. I never knew how damaged he was by his loss until now.

  ‘We’ll find a way,’ he says. ‘We’ll find them both.’

  I nod and gently pull the digifile from his hand. Without it, he snaps back into action, inviting me to share my plan. I explain that I’ll need his help getting back into the upper studios, but from there I can break through to the repository and find more information.

  ‘And then?’ he asks.

  ‘Then we’ll figure out what to do next,’ I say. It’s a horrible plan, but it’s the only one we have.

  Jost pretends to escort me through the compound. It’s perfectly common for the head valet to chaperon a Spinster, but with Cormac on the prowl, I feel a thin veil of sweat forming across my forehead and on my palms. I do my best to look bored, but my pulse is racing and I can feel heat on my cheeks.

  When we reach the security door to the upper studios, the guard runs his eyes over us. ‘Does he have clearance?’

  ‘Cormac’s ordered me to have an escort at all times,’ I say, willing my voice not to quaver.

  ‘I should clear it—’

  ‘Look, man,’ Jost says with a groan, pulling away from me. ‘I’d like to get to bed, so the sooner we can get Her Majesty upstairs the better.’

  The guard grins; he must be used to the night shift himself.

  ‘She’s clear, so keep close to her,’ he orders him.

&n
bsp; Jost nods and rolls his eyes a little to seal their camaraderie.

  Once we’re through the door, I elbow him. ‘You can go to bed any time.’

  ‘Surest way to get around in here,’ he says with a wink. ‘Act annoyed with a Spinster.’

  I feign a wounded expression, and his hand tightens around mine.

  ‘You are the least annoying Spinster I’ve met,’ he says in mock solemnity.

  ‘Watch yourself, Josten Bell,’ I warn him.

  He follows me up the spiral staircase, but he keeps looking over his shoulder and nearly tripping into me.

  ‘We’ll never get anywhere if you don’t hurry up,’ I hiss at him.

  ‘Sorry, Your Majesty,’ he says, grinning.

  When we reach the top, I duck into the studio, half expecting Loricel to be sitting there, but it’s empty. Motioning for Jost to join me, I move to the loom and pull out the digifile.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asks, watching over my shoulder.

  ‘I learned a new trick,’ I tell him.

  The piece of the compound flows gracefully onto the loom, and I turn to Jost to gauge his reaction. ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’

  ‘What?’ he asks, frowning.

  ‘The mantle,’ I say, running my finger along the weave.

  ‘I can’t see anything,’ he admits sheepishly.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ he stops me. ‘This is your area of expertise.’

  I turn my attention to the section on the loom and carefully pull out some of the strands of the repository again. Jost stands behind me quietly, but he moves closer to me when I stand to make the rift between rooms.

  With Jost here, I have to focus harder on the room’s weave before it comes into focus, but when it does I slip the strands in my hand into it, creating the opening. The repository, silent and dark, stretches out before us.

  ‘How . . .’ Jost asks behind me.

  ‘Good trick, huh?’ I can’t help enjoying his shock a little. ‘I took a piece of weave from the loom and inserted it into the weave of the room. I transplanted it to create a passage. It’s like when we rebound and a Spinster moves our weave from one spot to another, except I did that with a room.’

  ‘Okay, I think I get it,’ he says. ‘So we go in there and look?’

  I bite my lip and then shake my head. ‘I want you to stay here and keep guard. If anyone comes, warn me.’

  And if I get caught, run, I add to myself, hoping he will if the moment arises.

  ‘We should stick together,’ he says in a firm voice.

  ‘I know how it’s organised in there,’ I tell him. ‘It will only take me a moment, and I’m quieter than you.’

  ‘Not in those,’ he says, pointing to my feet.

  I grimace and slip my heels off my feet. I take a few hops in my stockings to prove my light-footedness, and he squares his shoulders and gives a reluctant nod. Handing him my shoes, I kiss his cheek lightly and slip through the opening.

  The room is silent without the hum of lamps, and I hold the digifile in front of me for light. Just in time, because I almost run into the first unit. Skidding past it, I’m suddenly thankful for the slippery stockings. I make my way to the front of the shelves where I found Sebrina’s file and begin searching for Amie. The individual units are organised by date according to geographic location. I have to find the Cypress files.

  I comb swiftly through this aisle and move on to the next until I find the sequences that include E, for the Eastern Sector, and start searching for Cypress. I’m hoping it’s not more than that when my finger drifts onto a unit with her date. The rest of the data, including my mother’s initials, matches, and I pull out the card and scan the code. I hold my breath while the loading image blinks. And there she is: Amie Lewys.

  I can’t bear to look at the information pertaining to why she was rewoven, even if I know it’s mostly lies. I save her dataset to the digifile and carefully slide the card back into storage. I wonder for a moment if taking the files would slow the Coventry down if they went after Sebrina or Amie, but if they have backup files it would be a red flag. I remove Sebrina’s card and tread noiselessly back to where I found it. I have to check the card twice to recall her sequence, since my first discovery was a complete accident. I’m slipping the card back into the cubby when I hear boot steps approaching. The steady clip of the approaching footfall sounds like Jost. I’ve been gone long enough that he might worry, but I’m not about to wait around and find out. Stealing to the side of the unit, I press against it and peek around the corner.

  Clear.

  I take a deep breath and move to the next set of shelves. The steps have faded away and after checking the next aisle I dart quickly back toward the rift. I’m only a few shelves from it when I see it shimmering and fading. I barely glimpse Jost on the other side as hands reach out from the other side and pull on the tear. I abandon my cautious pace and run towards the opening. It’s closing rapidly, but I think I can make it. I’m nearly there when a hand catches my wrist. I scream, struggling against my captor, but he holds me back and covers my mouth with his hand. Then he pulls me into the dark, still room, away from my escape.

  23

  I kick hard against the man holding me in the dark repository, and he falls back with a groan, dropping his hold on me. Without missing a beat, I dash to where the rift has closed and tug frantically at the air, hoping to find a remnant of the studio. Meanwhile I hear my abductor racing in my direction.

  I abandon my search and flee to a nearby shelf. It’s hard to see in the dark, so I press against the shelf and creep along it. The man’s footsteps slow to a walking pace. He’s searching for me now. My only hope is the door to the repository. I could weave myself out of this moment and freeze the repository, but that won’t protect Jost, and I have to get back to him.

  Snaking from row to row, I stay close to the shelves, afraid to step too far out and reveal myself. At the last row, I spy the door. I wish I’d studied the map more closely so that I’d know where it led. This room is connected to the research labs somehow, so it’s possible I could walk right into a room of scientists. My only hope is that they’ve gone home for the evening, but I can’t count on that. And to get to the door, I’ll have to move directly into the centre aisle and make myself vulnerable to my attacker, who will definitely alert anyone in the area. It’s a no-win situation, but waiting around will drive me crazy. So taking a deep breath, I bolt for the door.

  I’m not fast enough. The man steps from the shadows at the end of the adjacent shelving unit and catches me around the waist. Clasping his hand over my mouth, he hisses into my ear: ‘Stop fighting me, Adelice.’

  I go limp in his arms, and he drops his hold. Whirling on him, I shove him hard in the chest. He stumbles, and I barely make out the annoyance flashing on his face in the dark.

  ‘Remind me not to save your ass in the future,’ Erik says, regaining his footing.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I demand in a low voice.

  ‘Rescuing you,’ he says, rubbing his chest.

  ‘Who closed it?’

  ‘What?’ he asks, confused.

  ‘The opening back to the upper studios,’ I whisper.

  ‘Is that how you got in here?’ he asks, matching his volume to mine.

  I nod, and begin moving back to the spot where I opened the rift. Erik follows behind me, but there’s nothing left of the gap. I have no idea what to do to save Jost, but every second I waste here leaves him in their clutches.

  ‘So is this your big plan?’ he asks.

  ‘It was,’ I say with a sigh. ‘But I guess it’s time to move on to Plan B.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘There is no Plan B yet,’ I admit.

  ‘What exactly was Plan A?’ he asks.

  ‘Get information,’ I answer.

  ‘That’s all?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He grimaces. ‘You need help with your plan
s.’

  ‘But we have to get back. I left Jost on the other side.’

  Erik stiffens as I say his name, and I’m reminded of the rigid distance the two boys usually keep from each other. ‘Well, it won’t take them long to figure out you’re here,’ he says, tugging me back toward the repository’s door. ‘And you wasted a lot of time hiding from me.’

  ‘You could’ve called out to me,’ I say in an aggravated voice.

  ‘I’m trying to keep a low profile.’ Erik glares at me, anger burning through his eyes, but his swift pace shifts to a sprint. ‘Come on.’

  ‘We’ve got to get to Loricel’s studio,’ I tell him as we run.

  ‘I know.’ His hand is on my arm, urging me along.

  At the door, he stops me and straightens a loose strand of hair. Looking at my feet he frowns. ‘Okay,’ he says, ‘this is how we’re playing it. I found you in here, and I’m taking you to Cormac.’

  ‘So I’m a prisoner?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes, so look scared.’

  ‘That shouldn’t be hard,’ I mutter.

  Erik opens the door and grabs my arm roughly, forcing me through. I find myself in a brightly lit hallway. Up at the other end, two guards snap to attention and head our way.

  ‘I caught her,’ Erik calls to them. ‘I’m taking her to Cormac now.’

  The older of the two men glances at his companion. Both of them must be ten years his senior at least.

  ‘I have level-eighteen clearance,’ he says, flashing a card from his hip pocket.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ both shout, but the eldest’s voice trips on ‘sir’.

  I shift my eyes to the floor and drop my shoulders as Erik leads me away. Once we’re around the corner, he loosens his grip on me but doesn’t remove his hand.

  ‘How did you find me?’ I whisper.

  ‘Cormac’s going crazy,’ he says under his breath. ‘We’re on level-three alert.’

  ‘But how did you know I was here?’

  ‘When I escorted you on the goodwill tour,’ he says, glancing back at me, ‘Cormac had you fitted with a tracking device—’

  ‘No, he didn’t.’ I remember Enora telling me how he wanted to insert a complant, but couldn’t.

  ‘Yeah, he did,’ Erik assures me. ‘They put it in your food. It’s programmed to lodge in your small intestine.’