Forged(77)

I wake sweating. It takes a moment to remember where I am and that Blaine is permanently gone. That my father is at the bottom of the Gulf. That Clipper won’t ever see his fourteenth birthday. I thought sleeping next to Bree would help keep the terrors at bay, but maybe it’s impossible to hide from shadows in the dark.

I slip out of bed and move to the window. Union Central overlooks the city, and from our room I have a pristine view of dark rooftops and the distant horizon. The sun is just beginning to rise.

I hear Bree yawn, and then she’s beside me, looping an arm around my waist.

“Nightmares?”

I nod.

“We could go,” she offers. “Might as well, if we’re both up.”

Elijah sent Raid, the Rebel captain representing Group B, to Dextern. Bree and I have Claysoot to take care of this morning, Saltwater immediately after. An early start makes sense.

“What are you thinking?” she asks.

I grab her chin and kiss her.

“Never mind. I know now.” She smiles, and the bandage on her cheek crinkles.

She is beautiful. Radiant. A wildfire blazing. And not just the girl standing before me, but all the intangible pieces, too. I can see the whole of her now, and knowing what’s beneath her skin makes me feel so invincible that I wonder how I made it through a single day before her.

I kiss her again.

“I’ll get my things,” I say.

Her hands trail my forearms, anchoring on my wrists. “This. Just a moment longer?”

“You say it like it’s a chore.”


We take a car and a ladder, and Bree drives.

“You first,” she says at the Wall.

The smell of the trees is intoxicating—fir and pine and sap—and the sight of clay streets at the hunting trailhead almost brings me to my knees. From a distance, the homes look more worn than I remember, less stable. A goat bleats at us. The young girl feeding him freezes, then flees toward the Council Bell.

We are greeted by arrow tips and drawn bows. The boys holding them look so young. And scrawny. Bree and I show our palms, explaining we mean no harm. It takes a moment, but I’m recognized.

“It can’t be.” Maude steps through the growing crowd. She’s even frailer than I remember. Behind her, Carter is fighting her way between packed shoulders.

“Gray! Where’s Emma? Where is my daughter?”

Maude plants her cane in the clay earth, frowning. “I trust you have an explanation?”

The bare necessities will take only the morning, but sharing the whole of the story—explaining why—feels impossible. Some experiences can’t be fit into words, no matter how many you have at your disposal, or the duration of time you’re given to string them together. Still, we try.

A decent number of people climb right away. For others, the news is too much to channel into action. They might leave eventually, but Claysoot is their home. It is all they’ve ever known. I remember that feeling of uncovering the truth all too well. It was flying and drowning at once, the world exploding beneath your feet. For some, it is paralyzing.

When I finally have a chance to visit Kale, it’s nearly noon. My chest is burning. This will be a hello and good-bye in the same breath.

“Pa!” Kale comes running. She’s grown like a weed in the months I’ve been gone. I drop to a knee in the doorway and let her collide with my chest. “Pa!” she says again. “You’re back!”

It breaks my heart. The look on her face. The sheer joy. The fact that she can’t tell the difference.

“No, it’s Uncle Gray, Kale,” I say to her. “It’s Gray.”

“Where’s Pa?”

I can barely find my voice. Her eyes are Blaine’s. Everything else about her is Sasha, her mother, but Kale’s eyes are blue and clear and good and I feel like I’m looking at my brother.

“He’s not with me, pea. He’s not coming back.”

“He’s traveling still? Mama said he was. She said to look at the sky when I wanna talk to him cus he’s ’sploring the clouds.”

I kiss her blond curls. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Sasha appears behind Kale. She’s frowning, but it doesn’t feel sad. More bittersweet than anything.

“I missed you so much,” I tell Kale. “And I know your father, wherever he is, misses you even more.”

She smiles.

“I feel terrible about this, but I have to go away for a few days.”

“You just got here.”

“I know. But there’s this one last thing I have to do.” One thing. Always one more thing. “I promise I’ll be back, though.”

“And then you’ll live with us forever!” Kale exclaims. “You’ll be home.”

“Home’s here, Kale.” I press a finger to her sternum. “And here.” I press hers to mine. “The building doesn’t matter. It’s the people. When you’re with them, and even when you’re apart, they’re still home.”

She’s beaming. I think she only hears me saying home. My eyes sting.

“Don’t be sad, Uncle Gray. Here, happy!” She pushes her wooden duck on wheels into my hands and runs off to play with a rag doll.

“Was it quick?” Sasha asks as I stand.