My heartbeat skips, and I cast a panicked look at Etria.
“I assure you, Luca, he’s quite harmless.”
There sits an Amongus, still dressed in New Pertian red and gray.
Guilty. That’s a fair judgment for the one who struck Wren and Jasper, who lunged at me, who went over the edge with Seward.
His eyelids are squeezed tight, his hands pressed firmly against his ears. Beautiful music sounds from a box in the corner, and around him stand easels, paintings of the Aquifer in all its glory.
Like those from my cellar.
“How’d he —”
“Eight of them fell together, likely from the dome cliff. We had no warning, and they landed across the sea. They were found dashed on the rock below. We quickly reversed the dome’s airflow and were able to catch the next two, setting them down gently. My sons brought them to me and I discovered, with great pleasure, Seward.” Etria circles the Amongus. “This one has not been so pleasant. Do you know him?”
A pang of fear strikes inside, and I nod. “I know what he’s done. And you leave him here with the door open? He could leave anytime.”
“Yes.”
“But he doesn’t.”
“If you want my thoughts on the matter, this man cannot handle the beauty. The appreciation of the lovely is an appetite that must be fed, or it dies. In that sense, this man is already dead.”
“Good. That’s what he deserves because of his deeds above; he undoes the innocent. He has earned his own undo —”
“Mercy, Luca. Mercy. He knows no other world.”
“Neither do I,” I snap.
Etria wraps his arm around me. “Not true. You began life with us. It’s why you wonder, why the things above seem so strange, why they feel wrong though you don’t know why. Wren has told me of your talks.” He looks into my eyes. “Your foundation is mercy.”
“I was here with my mother …”
“During your early years. Massa visited as often as he could, but when you turned five it became clear that Massa needed an heir, or he would be provided one by your Developers. Janus, who was our judge at that time, gave Massa, Alaya, and you his blessing to ascend and begin a life together. Given your symbolic importance, and the chance Alaya was taking should her origins be discovered, another was sent to watch over you, to assist Alaya with your transport and care and protection should the need arise.”
“Wren.”
“Yes. Alaya’s sister.”
I knew it. Somewhere I knew. The peace I felt with her. She felt like family, even above. “But Jasper says he found —”
“The Amongus were waiting. Your father expected their move. He emerged first, hoping to draw them away. Alaya was to wait, to slip out later in the darkness. Lastly, Wren was to deliver you to your parents. Obviously, all did not go as planned. Your mother was intercepted — undone, as you say — but for all our sakes, the Fates watched out for you, and Wren delivered you to Massa.”
“Who fell deep into depression.” I stare at the Amongus. “He hardly spoke to me, hardly knew me.”
“I do not know about those matters.”
No wonder I was so Other. I reminded him of all he lost.
A tremor rumbles the room, and I stagger. The Amongus braces his hands on the floor.
Etria strokes the ground as Seward strokes the sea, feeling, listening. A shade of worry fills his eyes, but he quickly strengthens his face. “But that is history, and I called you to dictate this man’s future.”
I look at the Amongus, lean in front of him. His dial rests on the ground. It registers nothing. Overloaded, I’m sure.
“What is your name?” I ask.
“I don’t believe he can hear.”
“I need him to hear.”
Etria snaps his fingers, and his sons walk through the open door. Each takes hold of an arm and pulls. The Amongus, so powerful aboveground, quickly surrenders. He snarls and glances up at me. “Undo me now, but do not leave me in the hands of these beasts.”
I stand silent, and he spits on my boot. “Undo. Undo! This is no life.”
An urge, strange and untried, overcomes me. I reach out my hand and place it on his head, and as I do the words string together, filter into my mind. I try to change them, to alter the judgment, but I can’t. They are a whole, not to be separated.
“This man lives his judgment, his torment.” The voice is mine, but the idea, it feels rich and settled. Like Father’s when he spoke to the Amongus. “But so that he is not tormented further, he must go outside the camp, to the broad space across the Aquifer. He may always return, for food, for fellowship, to live among us. Or he may choose to risk his way to the surface. The choice will be his.”
There is silence.
I shake my head. “I … uh … I don’t know what I said there. It just came out.”
Etria folds his arms. “You gave a very wise judgment. Sons?”
They glance at each other and pull the Amongus from the room. I see a dimming of light outside the door and hear the half shriek of an Amongus. Clearly, he’s just discovered a node.
“You see where you belong,” Etria whispers. “You felt it. It is your gift, and your responsibility.”
I walk with Etria out onto the street and stare. People move about, pausing and smiling. They take their leave of me with winks and hugs. It is beautiful. More beautiful than the source that quenches our thirst. That is water, surely enough, but the cries and the squeals and the hurts and the joys — this is life.
I peer through a window. A man embraces his wife inside their dwelling. She kisses his neck and he bends, scoops up children into his arms. They climb on him as if he were a recreation tower. I want it. Longing fills me, and I want that.
“If I do this,” I say. “If I become this judge —”
“As I said, you already —”
“Nope. Stop. Rule number one: you will not interrupt me.”
Etria cocks his head and offers a slight bow. “Agreed.”
“Rule two: I don’t want the chair. I don’t want the hall. Or the applause or anything that sets me apart.” I point at the family. “I want that. No more Other.”
“I … don’t know that the option exists. You are special. We could not regard you otherwise.”
“Then don’t regard me.” I push by him and march down toward the Aquifer. There’s a man I need to see, and I know where I’ll find him.
CHAPTER
21
I walk toward the shimmering water, my face tight, my fists balled. Strange; all around me is talk and freedom, but my face has become what I hate about those above. I feel bound.
Perhaps there is more Topper in me than I thought.
It takes some time to pass through the Dwellings, skirt the outdoor market, and reach the Aquifer, but soon I stand on its shore, peering out at the underground sea. On my left, a group of children squeals and plays in the sand. But the man I seek wouldn’t be found near them.
I turn my back on the children and walk. I pause, kick off my shoes, and feel the sand squish between my toes. It is cool, like the Shallows. It’s in my memory.
“Well, Old Rub, this would be a place you’d like to see …”
There he is.
Seward sits alone on a stony shelf overlooking the water. I pad toward him, climb up beside, and plunk down. He neither nods nor turns, and we sit in the quiet.
The squawk of seagulls interrupts the moment. How did they reach this place? The birds round us, begging for handouts, but soon realize we aren’t in the mood and fly off. I peek at my uncle. I don’t know where my mate is, but he’s far from here.
Finally, he speaks. “What’s the difference, lad? Tell me, between where we were and where we are?”
I pick up a stone and skip it into the sea. “Are you kidding? Is anything the same? Salt water, freshwater. Amongus, no … Well, one Amongus. No freedom, total freedom, being wrinkle free.”
“Are you free? Am I free?”
“Not comple
tely,” I say quietly, and exhale. “Birth still dictates what I will be, and I’m still Other.”
Seward glances down. “It be truth that above we are watched, directed, controlled. We have lost our souls. Most Toppers are no longer wild men. It’s why piracy isn’t about the gain.” He gestures toward the water. “But be we any different here? Is anything real? Take the sea; you could walk across it. It’s been tamed. Those clouds be the work of skilled hands. The air we breathe, the cool of the day — all controlled, directed. Hearts be free, but the body is trapped in a forever of comfort and safe.”
He stares out again. “And to think I spent a life desiring this, Massa’s world. I knifed for it.”
Suddenly he grabs a rock and hurls it into the Aquifer. After a great splash, the water stirs, then ripples, then stills. “Does the true sea do that? Can I dent it?” Again, he hurls a stone. “Ripples be the same every time.” He gazes into my eyes, his on fire. “I’ll miss it, Luca. The wildness of life. The danger of feelings and sudden storms and shark attacks. I’ll miss life.”
I don’t know what to say, but inside, desperation grows.
“So, mate” — his voice quiets — “live on, safe and secure.”
“And you?”
“Only you know the path to the surface. I have no choice. I’ll find honest work. Piracy is no longer an option, or I be judged most severely by my mate.”
“Why are you being so hard on me?” I frown. “Coming here wasn’t my choice. Who brought me? Huh? What have I done?”
“You’ve blasted forgotten why we came.”
I shake my head. “No, I remember it all. I need to stay alive. You said it yourself.”
“But why? Why live, Luca? For the comforts? Then you be in the right place. Or did another concern drive you here?”
Father Massa.
Seward sighs. “You didn’t know him. You saw a quiet fool drowning in sorrow. But remember, as you judge this world, your father is torn up in another. And my brother be a great man.”
A great man.
The panic inside turns to dread. In the flight, hiding below seemed reasonable, but the backside of all things wasn’t known. Seward is right; with the exchange just a sham, Father would tell them nothing of the route, and be treated most severely for his silence. And the surface, so filled with fear, could spiral out of control.
“You’re my hero, and a great man,” I recite. “And tomorrow, you’ll be great again. That’s what I told him before every descent, when his mind was rough and the night was bad.”
“Your hero? So you lied to him once a year.” Seward stands and brushes off his hands. “Well, mate, for certain, you have important preparations for your big moment. I go to find Jasper and Wren. I didn’t speak to the former last night, and for Wren I have many questions.” He takes one last look at the glassy sea. “Enjoy the view.”
I sit alone on the ledge. Seward hates me or is disappointed in me or pities me — I can’t tell which. I only know he suffers, and Father suffers, and none of this was the plan.
I never had a plan.
I toss pebbles into the water, watching the ripples expand and vanish.
Same. Same. Same.
CHAPTER
22
Seward’s wrong.
I have nothing important to do. I wander through the Dwellings, the weight of Seward’s words heavy on my heart. Though I’m hugged and greeted, welcomed and cheered, there’s no denying that I am again alone.
My wanderings take me around the roots of the mountain-like system of homes, and as I walk, small shops appear, not so different than those sprinkled among the residentials topside. Clothiers and bakeries and salons line the streets, and I pause to gaze through a shop window. A second too long.
“Oh, Luca, we need to fix what was.” A woman rushes out and grabs my arm. “Oh, yes, we will rid you of these.” She lifts my locks and lets them flop. “I declare, you’ll be thanking me soon.” She leads me to a chair. “Every time I see Massa, I tell him the same. ‘You’ll be on the front edge of a whole new style.’ But he only laughs. Never makes it to the chair.”
No, he never made it to the chair. He should have, though. He should be there now.
“Hold it.” I lift my hand. “I have no credits, or whatever you use here.”
I am ignored, and an hour later I stand, my hair, golden and smooth, pulled back into one braid and falling down my back.
Won’t sit well with Seward.
“Say, I … I need to speak to someone. Do you know Talya, Etria’s daughter?” Women glance at each other, smile and nod. One waves a hand my way and proclaims, “Isn’t that an irony? Such strange and wonderful things happen when they turn of age.”
She reaches for my hand and leads me to a back room bathed in yellows and oranges.
“A node?” I ask. “Inside?”
“We paid handsomely to build on top of it, but …” She removes her glove. “It’s grand.”
No. I’ll do this node thing with Talya, but not —
Too late. She slaps down her free hand and my stomach drops. I surge forward, cooling, cooling, and then warming again. I open my eyes in a small room drenched in light. Talya reads in the corner. My escort pats my back and disappears. Before a hello forms on my lips, Talya slaps shut the book.
“You can’t be here.”
“I … I don’t even know where here is. You can read too? Never mind.”
Calm, Luca.
But I can’t calm. A loose, woven tunic falls over her upper body, curves around her thighs. Her arms and legs are light and beautiful. My gaze traces her lines, and my fingers stiffen, wanting nothing more than to trace them as well.
“Luca?”
I swallow hard. “I’m sorry, sometimes I stare. See, I was there, and then suddenly I was here. Honestly, I just asked if she knew you and then —”
“This is not a good time or place for explanations,” she hisses. “Father would say that I am not the appropriate one to receive your attentions. The city is filled with fine choices. All would show you around.”
“But I don’t want plenty of people. I sort of want one people — I mean, one person. I want you.” I kick the ground. “What I’m saying is, I want you to show me around … No, I don’t.”
“You don’t.” She rises and nears me.
I exhale hard and push my hand through my hair. It’s sweaty. “Yes, I do.”
“You’re a bit hard to follow.” Talya stops directly in front of me, a bit too close, or maybe not close enough. Either way, I’m rooted.
I cover my eyes; it’s my only hope of forming a complete thought. “I need questions answered, and your father won’t help me.”
I crack my knuckles and watch Talya’s eyes soften. “That’s why you came? For answers to questions?”
“I came to you.”
“Yes. You did.” She smiles, and I warm and wonder how long her mood will control mine.
“If I do this, which I shouldn’t, we need to return soon. Before my father does.”
I turn and march toward the door.
“If we are going to avoid Father, we best travel as shadow.” She yanks my newly done hair, and I take a breath.
Cool. Warm.
Books.
Thousands and thousands of books. They line the walls, floor to ceiling.
“This is a good place,” Talya whispers. “As I’m always here.” She closes the door into the back area. “It’s the study room.”
“You can study anything?” I ask. “Whenever you want?”
“It’s a library, Luca.”
I don’t recognize the word, but pretend that I do. I nestle into a chair and massage my scalp. I’ve never been transported by the hair before. For a long time we sit and look at each other, though our gazes, I think, land in different places. I shift, but don’t want to leave this stare.
“You speak very little for somebody with questions,” she says.
“Oh, right. I, um … I’ve never seen this
many books.”
Talya glances out at the stacks. “The library is great, but it gets tiresome. All the books written from the same perspective. All written belowground. I wish we had some of yours, from above. I would love to know what you know. You’ve seen both worlds.”
“We don’t have any books.” I exhale. “Not quite true — I found some. I brought two with me.”
“Where?” She perks up.
“My bag. Wherever that is. I lost track of it my first night in the hall.”
She bites her lip. “It’s still there. Nobody is allowed to touch anything of yours without permiss —”
“Talya, of course! She was to be at home. Have you seen her?”
Etria’s voice is muffled, but unmistakable through the door. Talya drops to the ground. “These next minutes are not going to go well.”
She climbs beneath the table, and I shuffle my chair in front of her. Etria’s eyes fix on us through the clear partition, his jaw tightening.
“He’s coming. I’m sorry, Talya, I didn’t mean to cause trouble —”
“Quiet, Luca. Answer this. What do you think of when you see me?”
“What?”
“Quick. What do you think of?” The door opens.
“Talya. This is the height of folly,” Etria snaps, bends over, reaches out his hand …
“Hope,” I say quietly. “I hope.” Her hand clasps my ankle.
And with her touch, the room lightens and we both disappear.
CHAPTER
23
We pop out of the water rock and find ourselves in the midst of peaceful woods, beside a quiet stream. The journey to the hall for my books had been quick; the trip here required a mighty breath.
“Hope is good.” Talya’s eyes sparkle as she hands me my backpack. “Very good.” She winks. “And I like the hair.”
“Won’t your father —”
Talya gently places her finger on my lips.
Just keep your mouth shut, Luca.
We turn and wander along the bank.
“Few people come out here, to the treed outskirts. These areas were all planned by past Deliverers, and for the Deliverers. Everyone wants you content. We tried to bring as much of your world into ours as we could.”