The Glass Arrow(69)

*

THE SUN IS PERFECTLY round, glowing white against a pale, cloud-stretched sky. Every time it’s blocked by a tree, I feel a twinge of panic and look up, just to make sure it’s not been swallowed by the city’s haze.

We follow it eastward, cutting through the warped, windblown trees. We twist along the mountain trail above a shale ravine, climb higher, deeper into the forest, over the creeks, through a meadow of flowers—real flowers that make me think of the girls at the Garden. Daphne and I ride Dell while Kiran walks beside us. He’s insisted that I take a break, and I’d be lying if I said my blistered feet weren’t grateful. Daphne’s asleep again behind me; her chest is warm against my back. She’s drooling down my arm. I’ll take her spit over her crying any day.

“You look tired, Aya,” says Kiran.

I sit up fast enough for Daphne to blink awake. She settles back against my shoulder and is snoring a moment later. One of my feet has fallen out of the stirrups and I put it back in. I wonder how far I was leaning before Kiran said something.

“Why do you call me that?”

“It’s your name, isn’t it? Aiyana.” He glances back. “I could always call you Clover.”

He thinks he’s funny.

“Aya’s what my family calls me, that’s all.”

They’re close—closer than they’ve been since I was taken—but still seem just as far away. I tell myself we’re almost there, but it still doesn’t seem possible. The mountains feel bigger than before, and the weather has changed even the familiar parts. I feel like an outsider in my own home.

Kiran’s moving more slowly than before, but his color does seem better. This eases my mind a little; the wound must not have been as bad as I thought.

“Nina and Tam,” he says, the names so different when he says them. “And Salma.”

I inhale. “That’s right.”

For some reason the questions I want to ask Kiran get stuck in my mouth. There’s a hundred different things I want to know about him, but it’s hard to get them out.

“What about you? Varick.” I try it out, but it still doesn’t fit. “What’s your family like?”

He places a hand on Dell’s withers. “They’re like me.”

Nothing more is offered.

“That’s all?” I say. “‘They’re like me’?”

He shrugs. Keeps walking.

“There are rules,” he says. “If my people knew I’d broken them, there’d be consequences.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone.” I shove my hair back behind my ears. The fresh air has made it impossible to tame.

He thinks about this. “What do you want to know?”

Same pace, same slow rhythm. It’s like he hasn’t got any worries in the world. It calms me a little, actually.

“I don’t know.” A frown pulls at my mouth. “Anything.”

He waits a while before responding. “You know more than most.”

It isn’t good enough. I want us to be even. It’s only fair after everything I’ve told him.

“Ask me something then,” he says.

I glance over the Daphne lump on my back. No one’s following us, at least not that I can see.

“How come you tried to knife me?”

“Ah.” He scratches his head. “It was my first time in town. Guess you could say I was a little edgy.” He shoots me a wicked smile that makes my insides go all soft. “For what it’s worth, I’m sure glad you ducked.”

“Me too,” I say. “Why’d you come? City folks treat your people worse than the Virulent.” I remember the way the men avoided him in the alleyway after Kiran helped me escape the mayor’s house.

“Same reason anyone does,” he says. “They have things we need. Gadgets. Medicine,” he pauses, as if thinking of something. “Taking a heap of nasty in town is better than letting our people die without reason.”

He stops just as he says this, and I know we’re both thinking of my ma. City medicine might have saved her from the fever. But instead we only had what the mountains provided: herbs to make tea to help her sleep forever.

The mountains can be cruel.

He’s turned, and takes a step towards me. “I didn’t—”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew what I was saying?” I say, my voice sharp enough to make Dell’s ears flick back.

“I told you why. It—”

“I know, it keeps your girls safe. So why help me at all then?”

“Because…” he scratches the side of his head. “Because you and me, we’re alike.”

A mean laugh tumbles out. “Not that alike. I wouldn’t have lied.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I understand fine.”

Dell’s stopped, and I squeeze my heels around her ribs to urge her forward. She turns her massive head to look back at me. It’s clear she isn’t moving without Kiran’s approval.

I sigh. Maybe it stings a little, but I know why he didn’t tell me. I wish someone had done that for me. If it meant keeping Nina off the stage, I wouldn’t say another word my entire life.

“You can keep calling me Kiran if you like,” he says quietly.