The Glass Arrow(20)

The incinerator is grinding, a consistent hum that makes me jump as it switches to a higher gear. I chance a quick glance towards the end of the wall for the Watcher, but there is no movement. I’ll have to get all the way around the corner if he’s going to hear me yelling over the noise, and I don’t want to risk turning my back on this Driver boy again.

Keeping my eyes on him, I creep closer, sink down, and snatch the broken blade from the dirt. There’s still a jagged piece of metal sticking out of the handle. Enough to cut him if I wanted. I don’t know why he’s giving it to me. It’s either a trick or a peace offering.

His face is clean; I can see that up close. I’ve never seen a Driver with a clean face. Maybe they bathe at night. I think of the makeup we wear to auction and wonder if they wear dirt the same way. There are tons of ways I’ve tried to make myself appear horrible and disgusting to avoid being Promised.

In the gray shadows, the boy’s golden hair looks silver and it waves around his face. His mouth is closed, but his eyes are glimmering like Tam’s do when he’s lying about something. I don’t trust him.

“What do you want?” I hear myself whisper. My voice is trembling.

A look of pity slashes across his face, but quickly disappears. He continues to wait silently.

“Don’t get any closer,” I warn him. “I’ll scream for the Watcher. Or I’ll … I’ll hit you.” These are the only threats I can think of. I raise the chain looped in my hand, hoping he understands that at least.

Then he does something very odd. He sits down on the ground, long legs splayed out in front of him, and leans back on straight arms. Brax follows his cue, and lays out on the weedy grass at my feet.

“Brax!” I hiss. So much for being my hero.

The Driver and I stare at each other for a long time before I finally back into the plaster wall and sink down to a crouching position. I’ve made sure that he’s not blocking my exit; I can still dart around the corner, and I’m ready to spring should he rise.

I keep my eyes trained on him. He’s staring up now at the starless sky, and for some reason I wonder if he’s ever seen the moon away from these city lights, from the mountains.

“I knew a Driver once,” I say, surprising even myself that I have spoken. He turns towards me at the sound of my voice.

“You don’t understand a word I’m saying, do you?”

He continues to stare at me. Brax has more language than he does. It seems odd. He must deal with city people. Maybe there’s something wrong with him. Or maybe he’s new here and hasn’t learned much yet.

“Driver,” I say again.

He nods, but doesn’t say anything.

“Horse.”

He points to the barn. All right, he’s got at least a couple words under his belt, but just in case …

“You’re uglier than a rotting deer carcass. You probably grow another head at the full moon, don’t you?” I test. He tilts his head to the side, brows lifted, as though I’ve just told him a very interesting story. He’s bolder than most Drivers in the city. None are brave enough to look an Unpromised girl in the face.

“Anyone who touches the stream dies,” I continue. “Poison. They only live for about three hours unless they get the antidote from a city doctor.” This of course isn’t true. If it were, I’d be dead from all the times I’ve stuck my foot in the pond just to feel a little bit of home.

Still nothing.

He’s trying to do exactly what I do with the Watcher: get me used to him hanging around so that I never see the attack coming.

“How do you talk to your people?” I ask. The Drivers I saw in the city the last time I was there for the auction kept to themselves. I never saw them communicate with anyone. Daphne said that’s because they’ve got brains the size of sparrow eggs. I know better, though. The Driver I knew in the mountains may not have spoken a word, but he seemed to understand us just fine.

He looks back up at the sky, and I’m reminded again of the moon and my home. I don’t like him for bringing those things up, even if he hasn’t said them out loud.

I groan, frustrated. “If you’re going to try to kill me you should just get on with it, so that I don’t have to wait to kill you back.”

He’s got me rattled. I never talk this much. But he’s just sitting there acting plain-as-day normal, and I can’t seem to stop.

“You should know that I’m not like any other girl you’ve ever met. I’ve killed animals twice your size in the mountains. And they’ve had teeth and claws, and … I’m not afraid of you,” I finish.

He crosses one straightened leg over the other and lays back on the grass.

“Hey!” I say sharply. He rolls his head lazily to the side to look over at me. As intimidating as I possibly can, I stretch the chain across my neck and gag, showing him I could choke him dead if I wanted. “I am not afraid of you,” I repeat slowly.

He only cocks his eyebrow and then looks back up at the sky.

My face begins to feel very hot, despite the cooling temperatures. This crazy Driver boy is making me feel like an idiot.

The time passes slowly. I’ve remained wide awake, and he hasn’t moved. Brax, on the other hand, has sprawled out on the grass and fallen asleep with his tongue lolling out.