New World Rising (15 page)

I pressed my gun to the back of The Master’s unruly, shaggy dark head. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“No fair bringing a gun to a knife fight.” His strange accent was still thick even after all these years.

“Weren’t you the one who taught me only a fool brings just knives.” I kept the barrel pressed to his skull, my finger on the trigger.

He laughed as he retracted the blade from Triven’s throat. “Glad to see something got into that thick skull of yours.”

He rose to his feet, his dark eyes studying me as he stepped back from Triven’s body.

Keeping my gun on him, I reached out to help pull Triven to his feet.

“Weapons.” I nodded at the ground.

With a rye smile the tall man began to unload an impressive amount of weaponry from his body. Once the metallic clanking stopped and his pockets appeared empty he began to walk away. I nodded at Triven to pick up a few of the knives, and with my gun still aimed between his shoulder blades, we followed The Master to his lair.

WE SHADOWED THE
Master over the next two rooftops. I had never accessed his building the same way twice. Every time I had entered through an access, it would be thoroughly sealed off by my next visit. Our encounter with The Master had not been as bad as I had expected— a few bumps and bruises, maybe a broken finger. The first time I met him he knocked me out cold for the better part of the day. He said the only reason he didn’t kill me was because I was a kid and I could be good trading leverage to a Tribe. When I offered him a long-term agreement of exchanging food, weapons and books for his training he knocked me out again while he thought about it. Apparently my first two lessons were how to take a hit. I was twelve.

We went in through an abandoned elevator shaft this time. The Master jumped carelessly into the shaft, zipping downward at an alarming speed. He didn’t care if we followed or not. If we were too scared, he wouldn’t have to deal with us. If we fell to our deaths, no one would ever have to deal with us again.

I made sure Triven watched closely as I wound my legs around the cables and gripped tightly with both hands. His eyes flickered for just a moment as I slid down the shaft into the darkness. I could feel him climb on above me as the cables whizzed beneath the soles of my boots. It seemed to take forever, the friction beginning to burn even my callused hands. I feared a body would come rushing past me, that Triven would lose his grip. But he held on. The Master waited until both our feet met the bottom of the shaft, then he moved onward. We moved silently in the dark. It had only been minutes, but it felt much longer, the darkness devouring the time. I jumped when light filled the hallway. Repressing the urge to shield my eyes, I followed The Master’s outline through the door.

Everything was as I remembered it. There were no windows, only concrete walls adorned with elaborate pillars. There was still a makeshift mat in the center where he had taught me to fight. Old bloodstains still soiled the surface, some of them undoubtedly mine. The polished stone floors were littered with junk. Boxes were stacked here and there, along with random books and bundled paper. Tiny bands grouped the stacks of paper with numbers on them, each group imprinted with a man’s face I didn’t recognize. Whatever they once were, The Master now used them as kindling. I watched as he tossed two bundles into his dying fire. In the light I could see him better. He had aged since I last traded with him. It had been nearly two years. His dark hair was now peppered with grey. As always he was a handsome man, with honey skin and full lips. His almond-shaped eyes were bright and intrusive as he watched us enter. I stopped just inside the room, Triven stopping with me.

I broke the silence. “Triven this is The—”

“Xavier.” Triven cut me off. My eyes jumped to his face. Anger was apparent in his clenched jaw, but only to me.

“I haven’t heard that name in quite some time boy. And how did you come by it may I ask.” I could see The Master’s hand move to the knife I knew was hidden at his hip.

“I recognize your face from my mother’s photo.” Triven sat back against a table, keeping his calm façade. “It’s not every day one meets another deserter from The Sanctuary.”

My head whipped back so fast my neck kinked. “You’re from The Sanctuary?!”

“Aye child. You didn’t think your father came upon my name by luck now did you?”

“But you never told me.” I almost shouted, clenching my fists.

“You never asked.” He shrugged, his hands relaxing a little. Turning back to Triven, he continued. “You must be Vox and Arstid’s child. I can see the resemblance to your father. How are two of my favorite rebels? ”

“My father died shortly after coming here and I am sure my mother would be pleased to know you have been hiding here the whole time.”

Xavier pressed his fingers to his lips, “I am sorry to hear about your father, he was a good man.”

Triven nodded in acceptance, his deep eyes trained on the floor. I would have to ask for an explanation later.

“What brings you here Phoenix? Your skills could obviously use refining, but I get the feeling that’s not why you’re here.”

I mentally cringed at his rebuke. “We are here for information.”

“Information doesn’t come cheap these days girl.” He tossed another green bundle of paper onto the fire as he eyed us.

I placed my bag on the table between us and pulled out the knives and the heat-seeking gun. The bomb I left tucked away. No point giving away all of our leverage. Triven showed no sign of surprise as I laid out the weapons. I wondered if he knew I had them the whole time or if he just was better at hiding his feelings than I thought. I stepped away from the table to let The Master— or Xavier or whatever the hell his name was— inspect my offerings.

His expression was not so convincing. There was a spark in his eyes as he ran his hands over the weapons in turn, lifting the gun and flipping the knives in his hands. Every time his hands moved I could feel Triven tense behind me. But I wasn’t worried. If he had wanted us dead we would be already.

“You found the way in?” His eyebrows rose in disbelief.

I shook my head. “That is why we are here to see you.”

“The only way I know into The Sanctuary was sealed off long ago. I cannot help you.” He stepped back from the weapons, still gazing longingly at them.

“There were maps you used to have.” His fierce glare told me I had hit a nerve, I wasn’t supposed to remember that.

“Those maps are not for trade.” He narrowed his eyes. “Besides what could two children like you want with them?”

I snarled at his use of the word children. Triven spoke before I could lash out.

“The Subversive is rising. We plan to overthrow The Minister and take back what is ours.”

Or just escape Tartarus.
I thought to myself.

“I would love to see The Minister fall…” Xavier pondered. “His misery would bring me great joy. But these measly weapons you offer are not worth my maps.”

I reached inside my bag and pulled out the silver coated bomb, letting my fingers trace over its flawless surface.  His eyes lit as they watched my fingers.

“We may be able to strike a deal after all.”

Fifteen minutes later, the maps were safely folded into my backpack and we were back outside on top of Xavier’s building. I was ready to leap to the next rooftop, anxious to get to a safe house and examine the maps in greater detail, but Triven had paused.

“If we move on the city, will you join us?” He asked Xavier.

The man I had known as The Master clapped a large hand over Triven’s shoulder and shook his head.

“I have no desire to kill one ruler just to be forced under the thumb of another. I am the only ruler I need. The maps are dated and won’t tell you everything, but they are a start. If my sources are correct— and they usually are— you need to seek out the Ravagers’ meeting place, a building in the upper west quadrant. All I ask is that you remember my trade with you was fair and leave me to myself when the time comes.” He turned to me. “You’re still one of the best naturals I have met, but don’t get sloppy. If you need refining, you know where to find me.”

I nodded respectfully and we set out across the rooftops once more.

On any normal night, I would have rolled my dice and headed for a random safe house, but tonight was different. Other Subversive guards now occupied several of my safe houses and our goal was to place ourselves near the next target, which didn’t leave us many options. To narrow it down further, there were some places I could barely fit into, and there was no way Triven’s larger frame could maneuver the cramped access routes. We passed through the night unseen, but I was on edge. I had to remind myself that this is how I had lived for so many years, a shadow on the rooftops, that it was normal. The only difference was I had never done it with someone else. As we ran I narrowed our options down to two places, the old transport station or the clock tower. Last time I had stayed at the transport station several Scavengers were sniffing around for scraps. I loathed their vile stink. Even the thought of them triggered my gag reflex.

The clock tower it was.

At an earlier time, the jump to the dilapidated tower would have been impossible. But during some point of the world’s decay a nearby building had fallen into its side, giving someone with nimble feet, like me, the perfect approach. While I moved lithely over the crumbled stones, I could hear Triven’s progression slow down. I waited a little impatiently for him before leaping up to the next ledge and pulling myself over. He landed next to me panting.

“You’re lucky you’re so small. I was worried that rubble wouldn’t hold my weight.” He pressed his hands to his knees.

“Almost there. Come on, we can rest once we’re inside.” I chided him.

The tower was just as I had left it. It was a large room with four round glass windows on each wall. They were three times my height and frosted an aged white. I am sure at some point they were beautiful and illuminated but now they were merely stained with dirt and decay. A few roman numerals still clung to the outside faces, while rusted gears protruded inwards. You could just make out the clock hands on the other side. We couldn’t light a torch in here for fear of being seen, but the room just up the spiral staircase was invisible to the outside.

“Home sweet home.” I murmured as we entered the windowless maintenance room and lit the torch.

“How often did you live here?” Triven asked as he ran his fingers over the food preserves I had stashed on a shelf.

“Only sometimes. It’s merely one of my safe houses. You know, a different one every night.” I shrugged, feeling self-conscious. But his eyes were warm and admiring as they fell on me.

“This is amazing. You’re amazing.”

I flushed and began rifling through my bag for another torch. “Anyone would have done this. It’s just about surviving, that’s all.”

When I rose, his chest was right in front of me. I looked up at him as his hand reached for my face, but he stopped just before touching me.

“No Prea, most people would have just given up and let the city consume them. You, however, have made this city yours. You bent it to your will and took control of your own destiny. You are amazing.”

I pressed my face to his palm, closing the gap between us. The instant my skin touched his, his lips found mine. And for the first time in my life I let myself forget that I was in the city of Tartarus.

WHEN I AWOKE
there was light seeping in from under the closed door. I mentally kicked myself for not sealing it off properly last night. On my own, I would have never made a mistake like that.

Triven’s arms were draped around me, his breath tickling my ear. I blinked at the unfamiliar daylight streaming in. This was the second time my nightmares had not plagued me. At first I thought maybe it had been whatever was in Cook’s hooch, but this time the only common factor was Triven.

We had spent the night in a feverish embrace, our lips never getting enough, but our romantic exploits stopped there. Not that we didn’t want more— we did— this just wasn’t the time or the place. And if I was being honest with myself, I wasn’t ready and somehow he knew that. I wasn’t sure I could let myself connect to another person that intimately. Sharing myself like that meant giving a piece of myself away, and right now I was barely holding onto the pieces I had left.