The Glass Arrow(31)

Kiran’s hand rests on my shoulder, but I shove it off. I don’t want his comfort. I don’t want his help. I remember why I don’t have friends. Friends give you hope when you shouldn’t have it. They make you trust in things other than yourself. They trick you into forgetting what really matters.

“I would have gotten the key a long time ago if not for you,” I say. It’s not true, but I want to hurt him, just like he’s hurt me.

I jolt up to my feet, my aching wrist trapped against my chest.

“Go away,” I say firmly. The fire has returned, slicing through my veins. I hate myself for thinking Kiran could get that bracelet off. I hate that he’s distracted me from getting out of here for twenty-one days. Tam could have drowned in these three weeks. Nina could be starving. All because I’ve been talking to a mute boy who doesn’t even know what I am saying.

How many escapes have I missed? How many times could I have grabbed the Watcher’s key, or returned to the Garden, or snuck out through the infirmary? I’m failing them because he’s distracting me. No. Because I let him distract me.

“Go away!” I nearly shout now. Brax jumps up from his place at my side and begins to growl. Reluctantly, Kiran falls back a step.

He looks hurt, but his eyes stay on Brax. My protector is now backing Kiran away from the plaster wall, back towards the barn. Step by step they go, until they cross over the bank, and Kiran’s knee-deep in poison water. He trips and falls back, making a splash. Brax snaps his teeth and Kiran rises, sloshing across the rest of the stream.

The automatic office door slides open. The Watcher has heard me yelling, or Brax’s growls, or both. He’s coming around the corner.

Kiran looks at me one final time before spinning and disappearing inside his safe haven. And seconds later, Brax is gone within the sewer.

The Watcher comes out and stares at me with his horrible, dead eyes. I can’t stand it any longer. I fall to the ground, and curl into a ball.

*

THE NEXT MORNING I wake before dawn, feeling terrible. Kiran’s trying to help me, and I shouldn’t blame him if he can’t. No one’s more intent on getting out of here than me, and I can’t even get out. Next time I see him I’ll tell him I’m sorry, but just before I rise to go back to the barn-side, I hear the slide of the doors behind me. A bright light comes from the panel within, and I blink, and open my eyes to shiny silver shoes with black laces standing before me. I don’t have to look up to know what I’ll see, but I do anyway, because I’m surprised. They’re early.

“Get up, girl! Pip, pip. I don’t see why she doesn’t use the bedroll. It’s disgusting sleeping in the dirt like that. Just like an animal.”

I still have three more days. Kiran still has three more days. This can’t be right.

I look up at another black caftan. The pale, flawless face with the smoothed-out features. He’s talking to another Pip.

Slowly I stand, and my head begins to pound. It’s time. They’re taking me back to the Garden. I must have miscalculated the days until the next auction.

“Is it market day?” I ask. My voice is scratchy.

“Tomorrow,” says a Pip, as if I’m some kind of idiot. He places a clean hand with perfectly squared nails on my arm. I shake him off. He scowls, a stream of pips emitting from his mouth.

“She didn’t learn much,” comments the other Pip.

The Watcher joins them outside. I begin to back away from the three of them, the chain trailing me like a snake. I don’t know why exactly. It’s not like I have anywhere I can go now.

I pass the glass edge of the room and glance one last time towards the barn. And there is Kiran. Sitting on a fence with his hand on the withers of the chestnut mare. He’s looking at me as though he’s expected that I would emerge from hiding right at this moment.

We meet each other’s eyes, and all I can think is that I’ve disappointed him. But no one’s disappointed me more than myself.

The Watcher approaches just as Kiran scoots off the fence. Kiran turns immediately, so that the Watcher can’t see that we’ve had this connection.

“Take my bracelet off,” I demand of one Pip. His eyelids are glossy from a shiny charcoal powder.

“Once you’re inside,” he says.

“My skin’s tore open underneath it,” I try.

“Then you’ll be taken to the infirmary.”

“Can’t you take it off now? It really hurts.” I could run to the barn. The guard would catch me, but I would still have to try.

I can feel Kiran’s gaze on me. I suspect he’s hiding this, looking the other way, grooming the horse maybe. All of a sudden, more than anything, I want to see his face. His kiran-stone eyes, calm and attentive. Staring up through the night haze to the stars beyond. Maybe that will make me stronger.

I try to think of something he’d say. Anything. In that voice that doesn’t really exist. That voice that I’ve created. I can’t.

So I lock my jaw shut. And I throw my shoulders back. And I follow the Pip through the automatic doors, hesitating only slightly as I do so.

Because there’s still time before the auction.





PART TWO

THE AUCTION





CHAPTER 8

THE NIGHT BEFORE MARKET is the first time I dream of Kiran.