The Glass Arrow(88)

At last Lorcan turns down a street lined by small shops. One is filled with wires and small machines. Another is all white and has a picture of a man leading a horse, with an X over it. I think this must mean Drivers aren’t welcome there. A small medical clinic, and finally, a pharmacy.

It’s a green-glass building with a glowing white plus sign in the front window. Not many people are on this offshoot, and those we pass are going the opposite way, towards the market.

We have arrived, and if Lorcan is right, my family has been no more than blocks away my whole time at the Garden. The very thought is enough to make me furious.

Lorcan does not pause to give me any look, warning or otherwise, and without another word, Kiran and I push inside.

“Quick,” I hear Kiran breathe.

I want to ransack the place. To turn over every shelf until I find my family, and then to run for the mountains. But I don’t. I stay timid. I tell myself to be still.

Two people are inside. A woman and a young boy, looking down a row of glass bottles filled with different colored liquids and pills. Kiran shuffles beside them, careful not to get too close, and grabs a container of sloshing green syrup. It looks like the medicine Kyna gave him. With a small frown I wonder if he still needs it; I haven’t seen him use any since then.

He walks to the front and stands in line. I am surprised again. Kiran didn’t tell me he had planned on buying anything. Does he even have credits? This was not part of the plan.

“May I help … oh, yes ma’am.”

I turn to see that the woman and her child have cut in front of Kiran. Anger flashes over my worry, and if this were any other place I would shove her aside and tell her to wait her turn. I don’t know how Kiran stands being treated this way. The walk from the gate to the pharmacy has been enough disrespect to last me a lifetime.

I look past the pair to the Virulent woman behind the open window at the checkout counter. She has long dark hair, pinned back in the city fashion, and large brown eyes. A full chest is crowded into a tight white uniform. The tell-tale sign of her class is slashed across her right cheek.

Salma.

My knees weaken. My blood turns to water. She’s been marked. I want to kill the Watcher that did that to her.

She couldn’t have turned herself in. Lorcan’s wrong. She wouldn’t have done this to herself. She’s too vain.

But she’s still so beautiful, and I don’t care why she’s here or how she came here anymore, because I’ve found her. I’ve finally found her. I could weep from the joy of it.

The woman checks out and leaves the shop. The bell ringing overhead snaps me from my trance, and I run to the counter.

“Salma,” I croak.

Her eyes shoot up, first to Kiran, then to me. Even through the dirt and the costume and the months between us, she recognizes me instantly. Her mouth falls open. A shudder runs through her body, and then she does the unthinkable.

She slams the divider window closed.

“Salma!” I shout.

“Aya,” I hear Kiran hiss. But he realizes that he can’t stop me now. Just as I’m jumping atop the counter, shoving the glass barrier aside, he’s racing back to the front and bolting the door.

The glass comes away with a screech, and I stuff my body through to the desktop on the opposite side. There’s a credit machine here, and tall shelving units of more glass bottles. I barely register the crash of something metallic in the front room.

Salma’s running to the back corner, making a sharp turn around the last shelf. She’s afraid of Kiran; that’s the only explanation. I need to stop her before she runs out the back of the building and calls for help.

My too-large Driver boots slip rounding the corner, and I grab the edge of the shelf, knocking a dozen bottles to the tile floor. They shatter, sending shards of emerald and blood-red syrup across my pants. My eyes water as the fresh burst of antiseptic hits the air.

“Salma!”

I reach her just in time to stop her from pushing through the exit door, and shove her hard against the interior wall. I kick the door shut.

“It’s okay,” I say in a rush. “It’s me, you know it’s me!”

“Let me go!” The tears are already streaming from her miserable eyes. One hand goes to cover her scar, and the move twists something inside of me. I drop her and she slides down the wall like her muscles have given out.

It’s shock, it must be.

“We have to go, Salma,” I say. “Where are the twins?”

“Why’d you come?”

“What?” I kneel beside her.

“Why, Aya?”

“Salma, it’s okay. I’m here now. Everything will be all right. You don’t need to be afraid anymore.”

“I’m not going back,” she says. She will not look up to my face.

A streak of fury blinds me and the next thing I know my hands are gripping her biceps with bruising force and I’m shaking her so hard her head wobbles on her neck. She has to see reason. She has to. We don’t have time for this.

“Stop it!” I shout. “I’ll fix it, you’ll see. We’ll be safe. I promise.”

Something connects hard to the back of my skull and bright white spots explode in my vision. I release her and fall back onto my haunches. When my hand runs along the back of my head, it returns bloody.