The dread rises up and crashes over me.
“You didn’t get to go?” I ask, unable to hide the tremor in my voice. He’s changed since I saw him just moments ago; his coat must not have been suitable for the mayor’s Magnate friends.
He stares at me. Just stares. His hands are rubbing down his chest—the drink must be starting to wear off. After a moment, one hand lifts to the side of his face as if he’s going to take off the scarf, and though I’ve seen what lies beneath it, I’m petrified for him to do this.
Before he can speak, I lower and try to run past him.
Quick as a flash, one hand shoots forward and his strong fingers wrap around my forearm. He pulls me towards him.
I lock my knees. My feet slide over the walkway. I try to pry his hand open and see that his knuckles are smeared black with polish of some kind. His mayor brother must be pretty upset if Greer can’t even find someone to shine his shoes.
Without thinking, I attack. My fist wheels around and knocks him in the jaw. One of his hands flies to his face while the other slides down around my wrist. I wriggle free and try to kick him, but he grabs my leg, yanks it, and I slam to my back on the ground.
I will not let him better me.
My legs are flailing and I’m trying to push him back, but he’s on me now, pinning me down with his body weight.
“No!” But the word is no louder than a breath. I struggle, harder than I ever have, and he releases me suddenly. His hand has flown back to his face, to the wrap, which is beginning to sag. I must have hit him hard.
“Stop, stop!” he hisses. I freeze. This voice isn’t low and graveled. It’s sharp, and warped by an accent I’ve never heard.
This isn’t Mr. Greer.
I swipe at the scarf and jerk it down. Suntanned skin, smeared with dirt across the jaw. Lips drawn tight. And here, up close, those eyes I would recognize anywhere.
“Kiran?”
He scoops me up to standing in one swift motion.
“Come on, Aiyana,” he says. “We’ve got to go.”
CHAPTER 14
“YOU CAN TALK?” I say.
Without thinking, my hands clasp his face and pull his jaw back open, as though this will somehow make him speak again. His skin is dirty, but the space around his eyes that shows through the scarf has been recently scrubbed. He forces his mouth shut and winces.
“I didn’t make it up, I know I didn’t,” I tell him. “Say something.”
“We don’t have time for this.” His hurried words are warped by a strange accent so different from my own. They seem stretched, pulled. My smile must be a mile wide.
And then it vanishes, like ashes in the wind.
“Oh no.” I swallow, but the lump won’t go down my throat. All the things I’ve told Kiran fill my mind. The secrets, the stories about my life. I’ve laid it all out for him to listen to in the way I listen to Brax whimper: knowing what he feels, but not what he says.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask weakly.
“I couldn’t.” He glances to the side.
I want him to say more, but this isn’t the place.
“Your voice is all wrong,” I whisper. It isn’t at all like I heard it in my head.
“Sorry to disappoint.” He snorts, and I quiet him with my fingers over his lips.
They’re soft and warm, and I draw back immediately because I didn’t mean to touch him just then.
“I saw a carriage in front of the barn,” I whisper. “You can hide me inside.”
His brows raise as if he’s impressed, but then he shakes his head. I take this to mean he has a better plan.
He’s here. I can hardly believe it. Here, at the mayor’s huge house, surrounded by men who could have him hanged for impersonating one of them. I think back to how he tried to help me at auction, too. Nobody’s ever done anything like this for me.
I can feel the heat creeping up my neck, and suddenly I’m thinking about the way I acted the last time we were together. I take a step back so I can breathe, and look up the side of the house for any outside scanners. I don’t see any, but know we should keep quiet all the same.
“Where are you?” calls a voice in the distance. Amir is outside.
“We have to go,” I say. “Now.”
My fright reflects in his eyes. He adjusts the wrap over his face—now that he’s standing before me it’s obvious he’s taller than Greer. I hadn’t thought to look too closely once I saw the wrap on his face.
We creep along the side of the house, keeping to the language we both know well: points and nods and the little gestures that we’ve learned over the last month. With my heart in my throat, I let Kiran take me by the arm and lead me straight around the corner into the open courtyard before the barn. The house Pips that scurry around outside pretend they’re not watching, but they are, I can feel their eyes upon me. I look for Amir, but he must have gone back inside because I don’t see him. I keep walking, one step at a time, out of the shadows of the house and into the dim sunlight.
Kiran’s moving so fast that I’m struggling to keep up. It’s cooler here than behind the kitchen and the air smells different, like the cleaning products they use at the Garden. The grass smashes beneath my boots, too soft to be real, more like hair than the real thing. I step on the hem of my dress and would go sprawling if not for Kiran’s firm grip pulling me back to a stand.
The other Magnates have all gone now, along with the carriage I’d planned on sneaking out in. The iron gates are closed, and two Watchers are activating some kind of security system that buzzes to life, then makes the air shimmer just beyond the property’s threshold.
We head to the barn, and my eyes are drawn to the support beams, where horses, rearing up and pawing the air, are carved into the wood. The sweet, musty scent of hay greets us. Soon we cross under the threshold, and I immediately scan for sensors on the ceiling.
My pulse is racing. We are just a gate away from the city.
Inside one of the stalls is the chestnut mare I recognize from the Driver barn. She snorts and paws the ground as Kiran approaches, as if she’s been waiting for him to return. He slides the door open and we duck inside, and the way she greets him, nuzzling his neck with her soft nose, makes me miss Brax terribly.
“How’d you get in?” I say quietly, standing clear of the mare’s front hooves.
He points behind him, down through the breezeway, but then seems to remember he can talk.
“There’s a separate entrance for the animals.” He clears his throat. “The mayor had extra stock brought in for today’s hunt.”
I stare at his mouth as he talks. It’s still so strange to me. The questions are building, one atop the next—Do all Drivers talk? Why hide it? Why didn’t Kiran tell me earlier?—but we don’t have time. Mention of the hunt has me ready to run.
“Can we get out that way?”
“I can,” he says in a way that makes me realize that I can’t.
He’s already adjusting the wrap back on his face. He nods in the direction of the front gates.
“How?” I ask, remembering the Watcher guards.
He points to the scarf wrapped around his face. It’s drooping on one side so I reach forward to help him. The back of my hand skims over his, and he pulls away. I guess it’s too much to think that he’s forgotten what happened in the solitary yard.
When the scarf is fixed, I step back. “The mayor’s brother—have you seen him?”
He gives a small cough. His voice is a little rough when he answers. “Drunk,” he says. “He’s laid out by the delivery gates.”
I remembered the argument outside with the mayor. Bet that didn’t make a good impression with his fancy friends.
“Wait,” I say. “You stole his clothes?”
Kiran shakes his head. “I brought ’em.”
He planned this. He came here for me.
“Aiyana,” he says, and I grow even warmer. It’s been so long since someone said my true name. “You can’t tell.”
“About the talking. I know,” I say. But I don’t really know. I don’t understand any of it, though I want to. I expect a full explanation as soon as we get out of here.
Soon the chestnut mare is saddled, and Kiran is pulling me up behind him. I sit sideways on account of the dress, and hold on tight around his waist so I don’t go spilling over the other side.
He’s all muscle. Long, lean muscle. I can tell even through this suit he’s managed to find. He sits rigid, and I do too, careful not to press my chest against his back. But it doesn’t matter. It’s as if Kiran is his own shock box, just like the one Amir has, only this one doesn’t hurt, it just makes me tingle straight through.
“What will you say?” I ask.
He shakes his head. I feel his heart thumping in his chest and know he’s afraid. If the Watchers catch us, we’re as good as dead.
He makes a clicking sound, and the mare steps forward into the light. He’s left the carriage of supplies back against the side of the breezeway. I stare at our shadow, feeling the movement of the horse’s hindquarters beneath my legs.