They hopped the gate at the Mole station and waited several minutes for the next train. Advertisements lined the tunnel walls for cabarets, the Regallière seasonal sale and Tiggy’s Saltwater Taffy.
“So,” Enne began, attempting to make polite conversation with the girl who had tried to murder her only two nights earlier, “are you from New Reynes?”
“Yep.”
“Have any family?”
“I had two brothers, once.” She kept her sentences purposefully curt and never eased her glare on Enne. “We don’t need to be friends, missy.”
“I’m just being polite.”
“I don’t want to get to know you.”
“Then don’t,” she snapped, and turned to Levi. He looked at her red face and flared nostrils in amusement.
“We should’ve brought your guidebook,” he said. “Check off some sightseeing.”
Before Enne had arrived at New Reynes, she’d read all the guidebook’s chapters on the South Side. There were a few places she would even have liked to visit: the famous university, the glamorous department stores and boutiques of Guillory Street, the national art museums. Before the Revolution, the city of Reynes had been primarily confined to the North Side, so the wealthy had fled the chaos of the uprisings and built anew across the Brint. But while they were busy constructing skyscrapers in the South, the North was left rotting from within.
The train arrived, and it was, once again, empty. Lola took a seat by the window, with Jac sitting opposite her, watching her in case she made a break for it. Enne and Levi hung near the door. Every few moments, Lola turned to glare at them or at Jac, but mostly, she kept her gaze trained out the window, playing a jazz tune on her harmonica.
Levi slapped the metal railing above their heads. “If St. Morse falls through,” he said, as if Enne could simply abandon Vianca whenever she pleased, “you could do tricks on the Mole. Put out a volt meter.”
Oh, how the lady would’ve fallen, Enne thought. “Everything in New Reynes is a show. You can’t even ride to work without witnessing a performance.”
“I like a little entertainment.” He grabbed the same bar Enne was holding and swung himself around. Their faces were only inches apart, and the corner of Levi’s mouth was turned up into one of his classic smirks. To Lola, they probably looked conspiratorial, even if they were only talking nonsense. Jac probably knew better.
Enne blushed and turned her head away, trying not to think about how hopelessly obvious she was around Levi. Considering the events and many convoluted feelings between them during the past few days, adding attraction into the mix seemed a hopeless and unnecessary complication. She might’ve cared about Levi, might’ve liked the way he looked and the way he looked at her, but her focus needed to remain on finding her mother.
“My life has enough entertainment at the moment,” she breathed.
“I don’t know,” he teased, speaking softly into her ear. “You could always use a little more.”
“Are you suggesting something in particular?” she asked warily. He had a bad habit of making her nervous, and he knew it. His smirk only got wider.
“If you want something, you should let yourself have it.”
She could feel his breath on her neck. It was enough to make her break out in goose bumps, to make her stomach crisscross into frustrated knots. It reminded her of the time they’d walked down Sweetie Street, and Levi had colorfully described the workers’ talents for seduction. He’d been mocking her then, and maybe he was now. But she didn’t think he’d hint at something like that unless he wanted it, too.
At what point in her life had she decided that others controlled what she wanted, that she couldn’t just reach out and take it? Hadn’t she just thought those words to herself the night before?
She might’ve wanted Levi Glaisyer, but she also wanted to return home. If it came down to a choice between them, she would chose Bellamy—perhaps because she desired what she couldn’t have more than what was right in front of her. But with an omerta and a thousand miles of ocean between her and home, why shouldn’t she have this small consolation?
You wouldn’t have wanted him five days ago, she thought. When you were someone different. The city has already corrupted you.
New Reynes’s constant performers, flashing lights—the whole city was a show and everything had a price. Here, it was easy to forget who you were. Her desire for Levi wasn’t really her own—it belonged to someone else. Someone who carried pistols in their pockets and darkness on their conscience.
At least, that was what she kept trying to tell herself.
Enne cleared her throat. “How much longer until we reach the library?” She was in desperate need of a cold breeze.
His eyes drifted away from her lips to the Mole map. “Seven more stops.”
“Well then.” She grabbed the empty seat beside Jac, putting several feet of distance between her and the source of her distraction. Levi didn’t bother to follow. As the train car passed the next several stops and other passengers boarded, Enne did her best to keep her gaze out the window. Even so, she could still feel the heat of Levi’s stare.
Lola was the first to move when they reached their stop: Revolution Bridge. It was a major station, busy with people changing lines, full of kiosks selling newspapers and food. Enne’s stomach groaned as they passed a doughnut stand.
They climbed several flights of stairs before reaching the street. The change in scenery between this and the North Side was astounding. Here, the white stone buildings were actually still white, many with huge columns and gilded domes. Motorcars honked at jaywalkers sprinting across traffic circles. The men wore checkered suits, their patent leather boots clicking as they walked. Women shuffled by daintily in their hobble skirts, too fitted for them to take long strides.
“It’s beautiful,” Enne said.
“It’s a bit glitzy,” Levi answered flatly. Something had clearly soured his mood. “Not really my taste.”
“And what is your taste? Cheap cabarets and malt liquor?”
“At least it’s honest.”
“Says the con man.”
“Says the street lord,” he countered. “At least I know what I want.”
She bristled and took a step closer. “And I don’t?” Who cared if she thought the South Side was beautiful? She couldn’t even make simple conversation without it becoming a statement on her character.
“No,” he dared. “I don’t think you do.”
Lola cleared her throat, her expression disgusted. “We don’t have long before the library closes.”
Enne nodded, then rolled her shoulders to try to release her tension. Now she was in a sour mood, too. Distraction, indeed. She didn’t even know what they’d been arguing about. They needed to focus on what they’d come here to do.
The library was grand, both on the outside and within. The sunset shining through the stained glass windows cast the bookshelves in a sacred sort of glow. Students crowded each of the tables, pouring over textbooks and old manuscripts. The air smelled of burning candles and the dust of old books. The quiet reverence here didn’t seem like it should exist in New Reynes.
“We’ll start in the family records,” Lola said. She led them to the third floor, to hallways of displeasing metal shelves lined with black, leather-bound books.
“It’s all so...sterile,” Enne said.
“The Mizers certainly treated family matters as such,” Lola said. “For them, talents were commodities. Things to be bred.” The accusation in her voice was clear, as though Enne was just as guilty as her ancestors, despite not knowing her family history until two days ago. She opposed their tyrannical reigns as much as Lola did. “When’s your birthday?”
“February 2. Year 9.” The wigheads had reset the calendar after the Revolution, as it had previously referenced the old Faith.
“Can you find her records from just her birthday?” Jac asked dubiously.