Gates of Thread and Stone(25)

Maybe that was why he called himself the Black Rider. Because he was coated in all this dust.

I would have chosen the humidity over this baked dryness. My lungs felt raw.

“I think we’re lost,” Avan said.

He didn’t seem bothered by our circumstances. In fact, nothing had fazed him so far. I wasn’t sure whether to be calmed or troubled by this.

“That’s the idea,” I said.

Avan paused in his chewing and looked over at me. A fine layer of dust had settled over his clothes and streaked his skin. It was kind of flattering, actually, like another tattoo.

“DJ said we had to get lost,” I explained.

Avan dipped his chin and surveyed the drab landscape. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

I shrugged and, after a pause, put into words what each of us had avoided: “Neither does my ability to mess with time.”

He shot me an inscrutable look. “Fair enough.”

When he didn’t say anything else, I sucked in my cheeks and picked at the bread of my sandwich. So he had seen. Why was he so casual about it? Not that I wanted him to freak out, but he didn’t even seem surprised.

We finished our food and continued on. I didn’t like being out in the open, and I seriously wished we still had the Gray. Who knew how long we’d be out here, completely vulnerable to whatever creatures might haunt the Void?

Daylight faded a couple of hours later, the sunset allowing us to determine which direction we were heading: northeast. The air grew chilly. With the summer heat in Ninurta, I hadn’t thought to bring anything thicker to wear. By the time daylight dwindled to a faint glow in the west, I was shivering.

We had to find shelter. I was willing to bet the darkness in the Outlands, however bleak, would be nothing compared to a night in the Void. Already, nebulous shapes formed in the descending dark.

Some boulders were piled in a cluster about twenty feet ahead. I had no desire to sleep out in the open, so we headed for them.

I felt my way around the boulders, hoping to find any sort of opening. Once I found one, I sighed with relief. There was hardly enough space for me to wedge through, but I managed it, wincing as rough stone scraped my bruises. The space inside the rock cluster would be a narrow fit for both of us, but I wasn’t about to let Avan sleep out there by himself.

I couldn’t see him, but I heard him curse as he maneuvered himself in. I marveled that he fit at all.

“Here,” he said from my left. I could hear and feel him getting situated in the cramped space. He took my bag, then his hand groped for mine.

Dirt made his fingers gritty, but I grasped them tightly. This was familiar.

For the second time in my life, I was crouched in the darkness with Avan, completely blind and grateful that he was with me. The first had been years ago when I’d gotten myself trapped in the sewer.

“Lay on your side,” he said, helping me down.

I did, blushing fiercely as he molded to my back. My head touched fabric; he’d arranged our bags as pillows. His shoulders curved around me, legs cradling mine as his arm draped over my waist. I felt light-headed and a little flushed, my skin tingling everywhere we touched. I didn’t even mind the hard ground. Or that we were both dirty and sweaty and covered in bruises.

“Sorry,” he whispered, a low rumble in my ear. “This is kind of weird, isn’t it?”

He started to get up, and I reached out. My hand landed on his hip, and I gripped it. There was no room for being embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. After an awkward beat, I added, “Don’t want you getting carted off by gargoyles.”

He hesitated but eventually gave in. I guided his arm around me, the sound of my pulse in my ears. His body heat chased away the chill. I even dared to scoot back, eliminating any space left between us, and heard his sharp intake of breath. I closed my eyes.

The tight space was different from that night in the sewer. Then, there had been a metal gate between us. I had been thirteen and trying to find the latest underground club. Reev had forbidden me from going to them, insisting they bred “illicit and immoral” behavior, but I’d wanted to judge for myself. Reev probably had a twisted idea of what was “illicit” considering where he worked. And anyway, all the other kids went, so why couldn’t I?

Some girls at school had given me directions and said the derelict building near the old town square was the entrance. Inside, I would find an open gate that led down some stone stairs into the sewage tunnel, and from there, all I had to do was follow the sounds. Well, I’d found the gate and the stairs all right. But the moment the gate shut behind me, the click of the lock echoed down the tunnel.

Everyone knew that the sewers were off-limits, but the girls had sworn this tunnel was open—how else would all those people get to the clubs? It had made sense. But they must have played me, because the lock was clearly still working, and I could hear nothing but my own quick breaths in the dark silence.

The only light came from a lamppost outside a tiny window. The light was too dim, though, and didn’t reach very far into the building. I couldn’t even see my fingers when I’d held them up in front of me. Fortunately, I had been more angry than scared. I’d squished myself against the topmost step, the stone wall against my back and the metal bars of the gate cold against my side.

Then as the minutes ticked by, my anger had melted into the darkness, replaced by a slowly building fear: What if the girls hadn’t alerted the Watchmen? Nobody used this building anymore; how long would I be trapped here? What if no one found me?