Rebel (Legend, #4)(70)

Then, to my relief, Eden nods. A faint smile hovers on his lips. “Sure. But you’re gonna have to lead the way.”





EDEN



Daniel’s definition of a run, of course, is different from everyone else’s. In all the years he’s spent darting across roofs and shimmying slick as oil between balconies and railings, he has never asked me to come with him or taught me how he does it or even mentioned where he goes. The one time when I was fourteen and tried to follow him up the side of a wall, I fell on my back and hit my tailbone hard enough to limp for several days.

“Where are we going?” I ask him now as we head out of our complex. We’re dressed in comfortable clothes—loose pants scrunched at the ankles, soft hooded jackets, shoes with good traction. Nervous energy buzzes in my head.

Daniel doesn’t seem bothered. He walks in front of me with the absolute assurance of someone who knows where he’s going. His mess of blond hair bounces with each step he takes. I try to keep pace with his strides.

“How well do you think you know the Lake District?” he says to me over his shoulder.

I shrug. It’s hard to think about our old neighborhood when we’re staying in the middle of this Gem district. “I remember our street,” I reply. “John’s factory. Mom’s workplace. The alleys where we used to play street hockey. Why?”

In the night, shadows cut across Daniel’s face and hide his expression from view. He casts me a sidelong glance as he turns us in the direction of the humbler districts. It’s easy to see them from this hilltop view, the areas of the city where lights turn sparse.

“Just follow me,” he says, turning into a narrow street that leads to a set of tracks. “I figure it’s time I show you what my memory of our past looks like.”

It’s an old subway stop, the concrete thick with layers of graffiti. My brother nods down the track to where the first glimmers of a train’s light flicker in the darkness.

“Keep close to me,” he says. “We’re going to take it easy today, but over time, I’ll show you how I make my way through tougher areas of the city.”

Over time. “You mean, you’re going to take me with you on some of your outings in Ross City?”

He gives me a brief smile as the subway pulls up to a stop. “I’ll think about it,” he replies. “If there’s a Ross City to return to.” Then he ushers us into the train, and the glass doors close behind us.

Half an hour later, we emerge onto the cracked, humble streets of Lake.

I have a vague recollection of this intersection—it’s where I used to walk through on my way to school, at least before everything happened. I look curiously on as Daniel walks up to the building wall of an alley and tests his boot against the crumbling brick. Then he steps back and points up to show me.

“See this?” he says, touching the cracks in the brick. “If you step up on something at this height, you should be able to grab on to the second floor’s ledge.” Before I can respond, he backs up a bit, then darts at the wall and kicks off against the brick. He reaches up and swings himself onto the ledge, then shimmies over to the closest balcony he sees. I look on, stunned, as he swings his legs over the balcony railings and then hops up to perch against them.

“Okay,” I say slowly, eyeing the brick. “Just give me a sec.”

On my first try, my boot slips against the brick and I fall on my back. It takes me four more tries before I finally grip on well enough to grab the second-floor ledge. Then I pull myself up laboriously, inching carefully along the wall until I reach the balcony. Daniel grabs my arm and helps me climb over it.

I eye him, waiting for him to scold me for being careless, for that worried light to appear in his eyes. But he just shrugs. “The more you practice, the easier it’ll get,” he replies. “If you end up in trouble in the Undercity again, you’ll know how to make a quick escape.”

I look at him in surprise. “You’d actually be okay with me going down to the Undercity by myself?”

He gives me a withering look. “After everything we’ve already been through with Hann? You wandering the Undercity sounds like day care.” He nods to the side of the building, where a thick pair of cables crisscrosses between the alley’s two buildings. “Come on. I’ll show you where I used to stay.”

I follow him gingerly onto the cables. He steps rapidly along them, as sure-footed as if he were walking on the street. Where he used to stay. “John always said you never strayed far from the house,” I call to him as I try to keep my balance.

“I never told John about all the places I went,” he replies. “It was safer that way.”

Daniel waits patiently as I take an extra few minutes to cross the wires. Then we make our way onto a flat rooftop, and from there, take a metal ladder up another floor. With each step, we go deeper into the heart of Lake, until I can see the vast, dark shoreline, the water lapping idly below us. I’m drenched in sweat by now, and my breath comes shallow as I try to keep pace with Daniel.

Finally, he stops us on a street crowded with crooked sheds and shuttered stalls, all closed for the night. I’ve never been this way before. Trash piles in heaps on the sides of the streets, and tattered clothes line the sides of each stall. It looks like some kind of marketplace.