A row of cabinets. A metal table. They were back in the medical room.
Before she could speak, Cassian dragged her toward one of the wall cabinets. He took out a metal bar the length and thickness of a pencil. When he snapped his wrist, it opened to reveal a set of shackles.
“My colleagues would question my motivations if I were to transport an unrestrained human subject. Hold out your hands.”
Cora pulled back. Her head felt deep in a fog; was it really only hours ago she’d twirled beneath a fairy-tale tree with Lucky while the others danced in the rain? The sting of his betrayal felt as fresh as the snow melting down her legs. “Tell me where we’re going first.”
He gripped the restraints impatiently. “If you insist on asking questions, I can summon the Warden. He would be happy to give you answers—perhaps while he was dismembering you.”
Cora begrudgingly held out her wrists. The shackles clamped over her. The metal was flexible, just like the Kindred’s clothing, and molded itself to every contour of her wrists. Cassian guided her toward the door, which slid open automatically.
Light glinted from the hallway, and she shielded her eyes. It was a strange kind of light, bright enough to sting her retinas but richer somehow, multidimensional, like a kaleidoscope. As her eyes adjusted, she saw it spill over Cassian’s face and the empty metal floor, not constant but moving like it was fractured on water, giving the hallways an underwater sense even though it was perfectly dry. Cassian didn’t slow his pace to allow her to marvel. He pulled her along at a brisk clip.
She was in the Kindred’s world, now.
It was an overwhelming and terrifying idea, until she realized that each detail might tell her valuable information about their society—she might even find a way to escape. But as they walked, her hope faded as they continued down a hallway that had no remarkable features. No air ducts. No elevator shafts. As far as she could see in either direction, the hallway was the same. Her headache returned, throbbing gently. Was it more of their space-bending technology?
After what must have been ten minutes, a faint rumble sounded in the distance. She glanced at Cassian, who was taciturn as always. The sound grew. The hum of machinery. Footsteps. Even voices, though too garbled to tell if they were speaking English. An end to the interminable hallway came suddenly, with brighter light and the rush of wind.
Cora’s footsteps slowed. “Where are we?”
“Do not speak here. Do not stop walking. Do not stare—some of the other species consider it rude.”
“Other species?” she hissed.
The hallway ended before he could respond. The sound of voices swelled as they rounded a corner into an enormous chamber that rose thirty feet high, packed tightly with people. Painfully bright lights radiated from interlocking wall seams onto a mass of bodies dressed in all shades of blue. Kindred. Hundreds of them, weaving to and fro like at a busy airport, some striding with determined steps, others grouped to one side, speaking in low voices. Stalls were set up haphazardly in the center of the room and clustered around the edges like hunched cockroaches. They displayed objects Cora didn’t recognize, except for a few. A rice cooker with Chinese lettering on it. A potted lemon tree. A stack of license plates from different countries.
Maybe it was a museum of stolen artifacts from Earth and other planets, but from the way the Kindred argued in that flat way of theirs, she got the sense that transactions were happening. It was certainly like no store or supermarket Cora had been to. No one carried baskets or bags, so where did they put their purchases? Did they use money?
“For once in your life,” he said, “obey what I tell you. Or else someone will question why you are here.”
He led her deeper into the chaos, veering abruptly left and right, as though he saw some sort of organized system that she didn’t. A few Kindred slid their black eyes to her, but their faces registered no curiosity. They were like automatons, masked and unfeeling. Three in the crowd wore Cassian’s same black uniform, but most wore a simpler variation of the uniform the Warden had worn, with a row of knots down one side, though some of the Kindred—both male and female—clothed themselves in white robes with a single knot at the shoulder. They kept their eyes low to the ground and did not speak.