Silver Shadows (Bloodlines, #5)(39)

The problem was, he didn’t come the night after that. Or the next.

Things had gotten worse when Emma had grilled me the morning after I’d disabled the gas, wanting to know if I’d had any luck in getting the outside help I’d promised. She’d been joined by Amelia, who, I learned, had been my distraction. Our rooms were apparently monitored from a control center with lots of screens. Upon Emma’s instructions, Amelia had staged an argument with her roommate, saying incriminating things that had been picked up by the surveillance team. Amelia had been especially unruly, and, they told me, had occupied the full attention of those monitoring the rooms on camera so that they missed my little performance.

“I needed a big block of sleep for my plan to work,” I had told them, after explaining that I hadn’t been successful. “It took me a while to doze off last night, so maybe it was too short. It’ll work better tonight.”

Both Amelia and Emma had looked disappointed but also hopeful. They believed in me. They barely knew me, but both were convinced I had a way to help them.

That had been five days ago.

Now their looks of hope were gone—and replaced by ones of animosity.

I didn’t know what was wrong. I didn’t know why Adrian wasn’t coming. Panic rose in me, that something had happened to him and that he was unable to walk in dreams anymore. Maybe he was still on his prescription … but no, I was certain that he would have gone off it an effort to try to find me. Was it possible the pills had caused permanent damage to his ability to use spirit? I couldn’t ponder it for long because my life in re-education had taken a definite turn for the worst.

Emma and especially Amelia, who’d been sent to purging for her distraction, felt played. They didn’t tell anyone else what had happened, lest it incriminate themselves, but they made it known through subtle group signals that I was on the outs. They ignored my pleas that help would come, and I soon found myself eating alone in the cafeteria. Others who’d started to warm up in their standoffish behavior resumed old habits with a fury, and everything I did was scrutinized and reported to our superiors—who sent me to purging twice more that week.

Only Duncan remained my friend, in his way, but even that was tainted a little. “I warned you,” he said in art class one day. “I warned you not to mess things up. I don’t know what you did, but you’ve definitely undone all your progress.”

“I had to,” I said. “I had to take a chance on something, something that I know will pay off.”

“Do you?” he asked sadly, in a voice that said he’d seen similar attempts many, many times.

“Yes,” I said fiercely. “It’ll pay off.”

He gave me an amiable smile and returned to his painting, but I could tell he believed I was lying. The awful thing was, I didn’t know if he was right.

All the while, I held out hope that I would connect to Adrian in the world of dreams. I didn’t understand why it hadn’t happened yet, but I never doubted for a moment that he was out there still loving me and looking for me. If something was truly interfering with our dreams, I was certain he’d find another way to get to me.

A week after I’d disabled the gas, the re-education status quo was shaken up when a newcomer joined us. “That’s good news for you,” Duncan told me in the hall. “The attention’ll shift to her for a while, so don’t get too friendly.”

That was hard advice to follow, especially when I saw her sitting alone at a cafeteria table for breakfast. A warning look from Duncan reluctantly sent me to my own table, where I felt foolish and cowardly for letting both the new girl and me suffer being ostracized. Her name was Renee, and she appeared to be my age, if not a year or so younger. She also seemed to be someone I could’ve bonded with pretty easily since, like me, she was sent off to purging during our first class for talking back to the teacher.

Unlike me, however, Renee returned later looking pale and ill—but not cowed. In some ways, I admired that. She was still worn from her time in solitary but carried a rebellious spark in her eyes that showed promising strength and courage. Here’s someone I can ally with, I thought. When I mentioned this to Duncan in art class, he was quick to chastise me.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “She’s too new, too conspicuous. And she’s not making things easy on herself.”

He had a point. Although she’d apparently learned enough not to blatantly talk back anymore, she made no attempt to look contrite or act as though she had any intention of buying what the Alchemists were selling. She seemed to exalt in her exclusion from the others, ignoring me when I daringly offered a friendly smile in the halls. She sat sullenly through our classes, glaring with anger and defiance at both students and instructors alike.

“I’m kind of surprised she got out of reflection time already,” Duncan added. “Somebody messed up.”

“That’s why she needs a friend more than ever,” I insisted. “She needs someone to tell her, ‘Look, it’s okay to feel this way, but you’ve got to lay low for a while.’ Otherwise, they’re going to send her back.”

He shook his head warningly. “Don’t do it. Don’t get mixed up in that, especially since her arrival means you’ll move up soon. Besides, they’re not going to send her back to her cell.”

There was an ominous note in his voice he wouldn’t explain, and against my better judgment, I kept my distance for the rest of the day. When morning came—still with no contact from Adrian—I resolved to sit with Renee and not give in to peer pressure. That plan was delayed when one of Duncan’s regular tablemates invited me to join them. I stood there uncertainly, holding my tray as I glanced between Renee and Duncan’s tables. Going to her seemed like the right thing to do, but how could I turn down the first chance at bonding with the others that I’d had in a while? Resisting my better instincts, I headed toward Duncan’s table, vowing I’d remedy things with Renee later.