Unraveled

  “We created some bunkers in abandoned offices. You can sleep there,” Dante says to me.

  Dante leads me up a narrow flight of stairs and Erik trails behind us. Dante stops at a door and gives Erik and me an appraising look as he opens it. “I think I’m supposed to give you a lecture or something. As your father.”

  “About?” I ask, moving inside the room.

  He laughs at me, and it hits me.

  “Oh.”

  “You two should talk.” Dante turns to leave, looking back once but finally throwing his hands up in the air, and mumbling to himself as he leaves Erik and me alone.

  The door shuts too slowly behind him. Erik’s arms are around me immediately, pulling me in to him. The distance I felt before is gone, replaced by urgency.

  “I thought—” Then his lips cover mine.

  Erik breaks away, his hands cradling my back. “You thought I’d changed my mind?” he guesses.

  I nod, suddenly overcome by emotion that creeps hot up my throat, moving toward my eyes. I can’t hold it back and it spills onto my cheeks. Erik brushes away my tears, kissing my cheeks where the tears fell.

  “Never,” he says in a quiet voice. “I was trying to be … professional.”

  “Professional? That’s new,” I say a bit too coldly.

  “When my brother is around, I don’t want to upset him. He’s lost a lot. I had to focus on helping him rescue Sebrina. I owed him that.”

  “You’re being thoughtful,” I realize out loud. Of course our feelings for each other would threaten whatever peace Erik and Jost have found in my absence.

  “But I hurt you.” Erik’s hands fall away from me, and I miss his touch immediately.

  “No, I understand,” I say, shaking my head as the petty anger I felt minutes before releases me. “I should have known what you were trying to do.”

  We linger for a moment in silence, neither of us sure what to say. But I can feel the pulse of my heart throbbing through my blood, stirring me to life, willing me to close the space between us. Erik and I were friends for a long time, but this is new. We’re still learning how to be together and what we’re willing to share with the rest of the world.

  “While they were talking about strategies,” Erik says, taking a strand of my hair in his fingers, “I could only think about kissing you.”

  I try to hold back the smile that jumps to my lips, but I can’t, not entirely.

  “Unfortunately, the strategy room isn’t the place to make up for lost time,” he says, a smile curving onto his face.

  “We’re not there now,” I remind him.

  He doesn’t need any more incentive. The bunker’s emergency lights flicker around us and with one smooth motion Erik flips the generator switch, flooding the room in darkness. I can’t see him in the blackness, but I sense his presence and I feel his heat radiating as he draws me to him. His lips move along the curve of my jaw and linger at my ear.

  “I love you, Adelice,” he whispers.

  Time slows as his words light upon me, but in my chest something bursts into a million fragments that melt back together instantly, remaking me into someone entirely new.

  “I love you, too.”

  His lips close over mine at the affirmation and we slip into each other. Each of us evolving in the other’s arms—a person stronger because of the other, but more vulnerable as well. His fingers grip the hem of my blouse and he pauses.

  “Yes,” I whisper into his chest even as I find myself in danger of exploding from the sensations crowding my body. He fumbles a little as he finds my buttons, and I laugh.

  “I didn’t expect you to be nervous.” My words are too high-pitched and I realize how anxious I sound, but Erik laughs as well.

  “This is a first for me, too.”

  “Erik,” I say softly, and he stops. His face is a sketch against the darkness, the lines of it smooth and fluid, but his eyes are silver as they wait for me to speak. “I’m scared.”

  His hands cup my face and he gives me a sad smile. I don’t have to tell him what I’m scared of. The war, what will happen next, Amie’s change, Cormac’s descent into madness. And most of all, who I will be after this moment, because this love is fresh and raw. I can already feel its wounds written across my body, singing with the tenderness of newborn skin.

  “Don’t be,” he whispers. His hands don’t leave my face. They are warm and steady as he waits. Finally, I pull them down and clasp them into my own. I take a small, but deliberate step backward. And another. And another. Until my calf bumps into the wooden frame of the bunk. I lie down and Erik climbs in beside me. Our bodies press together as he brings his lips to mine.

  Erik isn’t aggressive, even if his touch is urgent, and I understand because I’ve been holding this at bay for a long time, too—since that first night in the courtyard when we danced under the moonlight, and I kissed him because he dared to give me hope. Everything fits with him. The way his lips are soft but full on mine. The way my body locks into his. Our first kiss flashes through my mind. The silver moonlight, the trees etching the dark courtyard, dancing without music. But as we find each other now the world lights up around me, haloing Erik in brilliant life, and the music of time weaves around us, filling the air with a gentle, slow harmony that builds toward a soft cadence.

  He’s careful and kind, waiting for my cues. My nerves sing out where he touches me, sparking to life, and then his skin is on mine and my body bursts into fire and longing until there’s no space left between us at all.

  TWENTY-TWO

  I WAKE TANGLED IN ERIK’S ARMS AND peer across to him, my eyes adjusting to the dark, his blond hair a mess across the pillow. I’m torn between pulling the crumpled sheet up over me and waking him. But while his eyes are closed, I can keep the ache niggling in me at bay, so I watch him sleep and wonder how I’ll feel when those blue eyes eventually open. I draw my fingers through my hair to see if it’s as untidy as his and then let them trace my own face, feeling for a change. Confusion churns deep inside me. I’m exactly the same, but everything is different.

  Slipping from the bed, I wrap the sheet around me and examine myself in the window. Outside the glass, the world is black and my pale silhouette is reflected in it. I let the sheet fall open and study my body. It’s still mine. There’s no sign of a change, but it’s there. I can’t see or touch it, but I feel it somewhere, instinctually. Somewhere outside the bunker, a floodlight bursts on, and I back away, catching flashes of a woman in the pane’s reflection. It looks like my mother but then I realize it’s me. As the light streaks across the room, it slants through the windows and lights silver on Erik’s face, causing him to stir. He’s beautiful in his sleep, but soon his eyes flutter. The first wave of uncertainty rolls through me, catching my breath. He gets up gracefully, rubbing sleep from his eyes, unaware of the profound shift in the room.

  “You are beautiful,” he murmurs, reaching to pull me back to him and kissing my neck as I tumble into his arms.

  I stare at the window, watching the reflection of two lovers as I try to comprehend the evolution of our relationship—what we’ve shared. Erik’s mirrored eyes meet mine, and he doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to—his gaze says it all. In the window, he looks like a man. Lean and tall. The angles of his jaw more defined under a thin layer of stubble. I still look like a girl. Too thin. No curves. But there’s something in my face that makes a different case. The couple in the glass share a secret. Will it be obvious to everyone when they see us? Will everyone know?

  I don’t have time to decide, because the office door swings open and Jax’s head pops in.

  “Knock!” Erik yells at him as I clutch the sheet closer to me.

  “Sorry,” Jax says, turning his head away. “But we have a problem. Dante needs you both downstairs now.”

  “What’s going on?” I ask, tripping over the sheet to get to my clothes.

  “Alixandra is here,” he says.

  “What?” I stop scrambling and stare at t
he back of Jax’s head.

  “I’ll explain. Tell them we’re coming.” Erik pushes the door shut.

  “Get dressed. I’ll tell you on the way down,” he says, handing me a boot.

  “Tell me now.”

  “Please,” he says, turning the full force of his blue eyes on me.

  I make a face at him, but pull on the boot like he asked.

  Before I can open the door, Erik grabs me and pulls me to him. “I have a feeling I won’t have many chances to do this soon.”

  His lips press into mine, igniting a fire in my chest. I want to stay here, pressed close to him. When he pulls back, we linger in the moment, looking into each other’s eyes.

  “‘Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom,’” he whispers, quoting the sonnet we’d read together on Earth. It seems like a lifetime has passed since that night.

  “Is that your idea of a pep talk?” I ask.

  Erik’s lips curve into an almost-grin. “I just want you to remember that.”

  “Always,” I say. He leaves one more soft kiss on my lips, but then we have to go.

  In the corridors, people rush past us with bags and folders.

  “What’s going on?” I ask Erik with dread.

  “Come on.” He grabs my hand and we race back to the strategy room. As soon as we’re through the door, he drops my hand, shooting me an apologetic look. I wink at him.

  “Gross,” Falon says.

  “Good to see you again.” I smile sweetly at her, but then my gaze lands on the woman behind her.

  “What are you doing here?” I demand.

  “Nice to see you, too,” Alixandra says. “I’m sorry to interrupt your honeymoon.”

  I blush furiously at this but keep myself otherwise composed. “Let’s try this again. What’s stopping me from ripping you in half?”

  “Remind me not to save your life in the future.” Alixandra glares back at me.

  “Will someone explain what in Arras she’s doing here?”

  “I thought you were going to tell her,” Jost says to his brother.

  “We were … preoccupied,” Erik says.

  Dante covers his eyes and turns away from us. “I don’t need to hear about this.”

  “We were talking,” Erik says.

  “Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Falon asks.

  “You!” Dante points at her. “Cut it out.”

  “I was under the impression that there was an emergency,” I remind everyone.

  “And you are right, dear girl,” Albert says, shuffling into the room with Jax’s help. I can’t help but notice that Albert is looking worse than yesterday. As though all his stolen years were catching up with him at once. “But young love is equally thrilling, I think.”

  Erik’s hand flies to his mouth and I know he’s covering a smirk. I smack him on the shoulder. “Get serious.”

  “I guess we know who wears the pants in this relationship,” Alixandra says.

  “Why are you my best friend again?” he asks her.

  “Wait! Alixandra? Alix?” I can’t control the volume of my voice.

  “That took you long enough,” she says.

  “But Alix is a boy,” I say, trying to work through this confusing turn of events. “Alix has to be a boy.”

  “Why?” Erik asks.

  “You g-g-grew up together and Alix w-w-works for the Guild,” I stammer out my answers in spurts of confusion. “What about segregation?”

  “All those things are true,” Erik says, “but she’s still a girl.”

  “You could have mentioned that,” I say, smacking him again.

  “It didn’t occur to me.”

  “Thank you. That’s very flattering, Erik,” Alix says.

  From his seat, Jost props his feet on the table and watches us with a giant grin.

  “You are enjoying this too much,” Erik says.

  “Yes, I am,” Jost says, folding his hands behind his head. “I told you, Ad. Saxun doesn’t segregate. I married Rozenn the day she was released from testing.”

  “There is an actual emergency,” Dante snaps, pushing Jost’s feet off the table. We all look to Alixandra and she pulls a digifile from her bag.

  “Cormac has initiated final termination of this sector,” she says.

  “Like, Protocol Three?” I ask.

  “Protocol Three allows for evacuation before the sector is destroyed,” Jax says. “This isn’t Protocol Three.”

  “But why now?” Erik asks. “He’s already infected half the population, there are no resources left. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “He knows we’re here,” I say, looking to Alix for confirmation. She nods.

  “He wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to destroy the Agenda,” Dante says in a grim voice.

  “Does he know I’m here?” I ask, wondering if I can message Cormac. Maybe if he discovers I’m here, he’ll stay his order to terminate the sector.

  “He knows,” Alix says. “I bought you as much time as possible before I had to get out myself.”

  “I guess the wedding is off,” I say.

  “Good. You can get rid of that ring,” Erik says, and I realize I’m still wearing it. I tug it off my finger and throw it across the room.

  “What do we do?” I ask Dante, feeling lighter and ready to take on Cormac.

  “We evacuate,” he says.

  “But what about the citizens?” I ask. “Not everyone in the Eastern Sector is infected.”

  “We don’t have time,” he says.

  “Where will we go?” Jost asks. “Back to Earth? It won’t be long before it’s unstable there.”

  He has a point. “It won’t do us any good to run,” I say. “If we waste time going back to Earth, Cormac will be more prepared than ever for our return. We have to ensure that the singularity can’t occur.”

  “And how will we do that?” Falon asks.

  And now I know that I can never save both worlds. I have to make a choice. This is what being the Whorl is truly about. I can’t hold both worlds together any longer, not as this one spins further out of my control.

  “We have to initiate Protocol Three,” I say in a soft voice.

  No one speaks for a moment, all of them digesting this idea while in the same instant realizing I’m admitting defeat. For those of us who have lived most of our lives in Arras it feels unbearable, but I take solace in the promise of Earth. If we can initiate Protocol Three and evacuate the citizens of Arras before this world begins to self-destruct, we can rebuild the planet we left behind.

  “Don’t we have to get into the Northern Sector to do that?” Erik asks.

  “I hate to interrupt, especially with bad news,” Alix says, waving her digifile. “I know you don’t have time to read this report, but Cormac has blocked communication between all sectors.”

  “Even if we initiate Protocol Three—” Dante begins.

  “The evacuation calls won’t go out,” Alix confirms.

  “Then we have to find a way to evacuate the population.”

  “It’s too late—” Falon is cut off by the entrance of Loricel.

  “Cormac can’t be trusted. I’ve known him for hundreds of years, but his behavior shows signs of madness,” Loricel states in an imperial voice.

  “He has to be stopped,” I say. “We can’t go back to Earth and come up with another plan. We can’t let him continue.”

  “I agree,” Albert says, and everyone turns to him. “I created this world to put an end to violence, and while I struggle to see it come to violence now, I can’t deny that Cormac Patton has become a threat to the very existence of the human race.”

  “So we agree,” Erik says, “but I’m still not sure how we’re even going to get into the Northern Sector.”

  “Leave that to me,” Loricel says. “I got Adelice out. I can get you in.”

  “We can’t all go,” I say.

  “She’s right,” Dante agrees. “W
e need a group to get the word out to the resistance leaders in the other sectors about what’s happening. The ministers can initiate the evacuation procedures. All the protocols are in place for the ministers to open loopholes throughout Arras.”

  “What about the people here?” Jost asks, and I know he’s thinking of Sebrina.

  “A group needs to stay and get everyone out. If we send someone through the loophole, we can get the rest of the survivors evacuated in minutes,” Albert suggests.

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  “I’ll make sure,” Erik says, stepping in. Our eyes meet and we both know that our talents are needed in too many places at once to allow us to go together now.

  “But the second they rebound into the other sectors, their personal identifying sequences will be flagged,” Falon points out. “They’ll have you ripped in minutes.”

  “We’ll use a veil,” Loricel says. “The veils will mask your personal identifying sequences. We might as well use the talents of the Tailors in the room.”

  “I don’t have the materials to make a veil,” Erik says.

  “You have me,” Loricel reminds him.

  “How long do we have?” Dante asks Alix.

  “About an hour,” she says.

  “Arras time or Earth time?” Jost asks.

  “That’s relative,” Albert says.

  “What does that mean?” Jost demands.

  “It means that in this set of circumstances, we have an hour. We’d better get to it.”

  Everyone rushes in opposite directions, and I don’t have time to say goodbye to Erik before Dante has pulled me to the side. We’re leaving with Jax and Falon.

  “That’s it?” I ask. “How are we going to do this with only four of us?”

  “Jax will stay with you the whole time, Adelice,” Dante says.

  “I’m not much of a bodyguard,” Jax points out.

  “You know how to initiate Protocol Three and Adelice claims she can get Cormac to tell her the pass code,” Falon says.

  “That was before I knew he’d ordered my death,” I point out.

  “Be extra sweet,” Dante advises me.