Gates of Thread and Stone(26)

I was vibrating with panic by the time the door to the building swung open. I’d expected Watchmen. Instead, Avan’s voice called out:

“Kai?”

I had been so stunned I hadn’t even answered. Avan hadn’t spoken to me for three weeks, not since I’d kicked his dad. My fingers clutched the bars and the metal squeaked.

“Kai, that you?” He’d walked over. I could see only his silhouette, highlighted in pale gray by the open door behind him.

“Y-yeah.” I’d pushed to my feet. “What are you doing here?”

“I overheard some of the girls. They said they sent you here instead of to the real location.” He’d approached the gate and peered through at me. “You do realize even though we call them underground clubs, they’re not actually underground?”

Well, I knew that now.

I had backed down a few steps into pitch-blackness, all my panic reverting to anger that made my heart pound. “Did you come here to make fun of me?”

He’d snorted. “Don’t be dumb. I came to see if they were serious. You want me to get Reev?”

“No!” My shout had echoed in the empty space, and I lowered my voice. “No. He’ll . . .” He’d be so angry and disappointed with me. I couldn’t let him know. “Please don’t tell him.”


“Well, the Watchmen should be here soon to let you out. I alerted a runner.” He turned, and I swallowed the urge to ask him to stay.

But instead of leaving, he had dropped his back against the bars and slid down, shifting against the floor to find a comfortable position.

“What are you doing?” I’d asked.

“I’m not going to leave you here by yourself in the dark. And I have to make sure someone gets you out, don’t I?”

I hadn’t known what to say, so I lowered myself down on the top step and leaned my head against the nearest bar. From this angle, I could see Avan’s profile.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

I thought I saw his mouth curve, but it had been hard to tell in the dark. His arm moved. When warm fingers reached through the bars, I hesitated only a moment before gripping his hand.

Even though we sat on opposite sides of the gate, with nothing but a yawning blackness behind me, I had known it would be okay. Avan would make sure of it.

The Watchmen arrived an hour later to let me out. I had put on such a convincing display of tears and remorse that they let us go with no tax out of sheer pity. Afterward, Avan and I had gone back to his shop where we hung around and snacked on dry fruit for another hour, talking about nothing I could recall now; all I remembered was the expressive and fluid way his hands moved when he spoke. I returned to the Labyrinth shortly before Reev’s shift ended, and neither Avan nor I had spoken of that night since.

But I had never forgotten. In the same way that I knew Avan would see me through the night, that was the moment I realized Avan and I would be okay—that our friendship, which had been in serious doubt for weeks, would be okay. It didn’t matter how he spent his nights or that we rarely saw each other outside of school or my visits to his shop; he would still be there for me when I needed him.

Coming with me on this journey, however, wasn’t something I’d expected. This was going too far. I never would have asked this of him.

But that’s what was so great about Avan. I never had to ask.

The dusty fabric of my bag chafed my cheek, and I tucked my face against my shoulder. His arm tightened around me. I wished I knew what he was thinking.

As if he’d heard my thoughts, he whispered, “I was wondering . . .”

My eyes opened, even though I couldn’t see anything. “What?”

His breath was a warm spot against my hair. “How did you and Reev meet?”

Avan knew about my missing memories, but I’d never told him that Reev and I weren’t real siblings. It was obvious just by looking at us, though.

“By the river. Reev said I was unconscious. He picked me up, took care of me, and then decided he couldn’t just drop me off on the street afterward. The earliest thing I can remember about Reev is his eyes. They were the first things I saw when I woke up.” Considering I couldn’t remember anything about where I’d been or who I was, they’d left an impression. “I had an ID with me, and when he checked it at the registry, we found out I had no living relatives to claim me. So he kept me.”

“I’ve always admired the way you two look out for each other,” Avan said.

“Even though he’s not my real brother, we’re still family.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Family should protect each other.”

I bit my lip. “Avan, you’re—”

“You don’t remember your parents?” he asked, cutting me off. It was just as well. I didn’t know where the words had come from. Or how he would have reacted to them.

You’re my family, too.

“If I answer, do I get to ask about yours?”

His silence stretched for long enough that I figured he had no intention of responding. But finally, he said, “Someday.”

His voice was quiet but not cold.

“Then ask me again someday,” I said.

He gave an exaggerated sigh that made me smile.

A few beats later, he said, “I have a confession.”