Gates of Thread and Stone(39)

I didn’t understand why he was saying this—of course Reev would always hold a part of me—but the answer seemed to matter to him. So I said, “Yes.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Have you ever asked him about his past?”


Only a few failed attempts about his collar. But I wanted to. I never stopped wanting to. Fear had kept me silent—insecurities and doubts that haunted me over the years despite everything Reev had done. Someone had abandoned me on a riverbank. There was no blood to connect me and Reev, and if I pried into things he wanted kept secret, what if he decided to leave me, too?

Avan didn’t wait for me to answer. “Or about your own past. Why are you so content not knowing?”

“Not every family has to be broken, Avan.”

I regretted the words the moment they were out. My lips tightened, and my hands curled in my lap. Avan remained still, his hair shielding his eyes from me. He began to rise. My fingers latched on to his forearm.

“Please stay,” I said, ducking my head. “I don’t . . . I don’t want to argue with you.”

I held my breath and didn’t release it until he sat again, his face turned away. I scooted closer so that our sides touched. He nudged my shoulder, and I relaxed against him.

I didn’t tell Avan that he had it wrong. I wasn’t content not knowing. I’d never told Reev, but the reason I wanted to be a mail carrier was because it allowed me to explore the North District beyond his restrictions. And because maybe one day I’d find someone who looked like me. Or recognized me. Someone must have taken care of me before I was eight.

Maybe this was the universe’s way of punishing me for wanting to know about my past. Reev had taken me in, cared for me, loved me like his sister, and still I had wanted more. Having Reev should have been enough. Why couldn’t that have been enough?

I tilted my head, resting my cheek against Avan’s shoulder. Right now, the most important thing was rescuing Reev. Everything else could wait.

Closing my eyes, I listened to the wind rustle the branches of the tree. Much nicer than the clang of metal walls. I would miss this place when we left.

“Kai,” Avan said. “Look.”

I felt it first. Spreading across my face. Warmth. Radiant, natural warmth. I raised my eyelids, slowly. There it was.

The Sun. It hurt my eyes, so I squinted at the clouds around it instead. They were yellow—not in the usual stark, chemical way, but vibrant and muted at the same time—and highlighted in gold where beams of light filtered through. Sometimes, the clouds held beauty in their own way.

I closed my eyes, letting the heat and light soak in. The Sun shone on my face for the first time in twelve months, but I couldn’t help thinking that the best part of this moment was being able to share it with Avan.

I leaned against his side and felt his arm circle my shoulders. Even though I knew it wasn’t true, I imagined his warmth like a Sun that shone just for me.





CHAPTER 19




OUR LESSONS WITH G-10 proved how little I knew about fighting. And G-10 transformed into an unrelenting jerk in the training circle. When I remarked on this, he gave me a look that made me cringe and said, “In the arena, you’re not going to win with kindness.”

I didn’t care about winning, just making it through so I could find Reev. G-10 replied to this by knocking me on my already-bruised ass.

He had made his point. And now I had no qualms about breaking his nose. Or trying to, anyway. Having survived in the North District our whole lives, Avan and I had pretty good reflexes, and Reev had taught me basic self-defense.

But we were still no match for G-10.

Avan landed on his back. Then he set his jaw and shoved himself to his feet. G-10 had given us new tunics and fitted pants that matched what the others wore. The clothes were much tighter than what we were used to, and as Avan brushed off his backside, I had to admire the view.

“Again,” Avan said.

G-10 attacked. He was fast, faster even than Reev, although I was pretty sure Reev had held back when he taught me. Avan blocked a punch, avoided a kick, and then swung for the ribs. G-10 caught his wrist, but Avan’s foot came up, connecting with G-10’s shoulder. G-10 didn’t even stagger before sliding close and striking beneath Avan’s chin. Avan grunted, stumbling.

I winced and rubbed my chin in sympathy.

G-10 crossed his arms. “That was good. You landed a hit.”

Avan opened and closed his jaw to make sure it still worked and then swore under his breath. “Again,” he said, straightening.

“You don’t have to defeat me,” G-10 said wryly. “Your opponents in the arena won’t be trained sentinels. Most will be normal cadets. They’ll have two years of combat training, though.”

Two years next to my paltry skills sounded intimidating. But one day, those cadets would become Watchmen, and fighting them now would almost be like hitting a Watchman without worrying about the consequences.

“Will we be able to tell if one of them is a descendant?” I asked.

“They always rank at the top by the end,” G-10 said.

I rested my elbows on my thighs. Avan didn’t budge, stubbornly facing G-10, and I stifled a laugh. He’d never struck me as the competitive type.

“Sit. Kai’s turn.” G-10 motioned for me to join him on the floor.