CHAPTER 22
KIRAN MOTIONS FOR LORCAN to lead the palomino into an alley between the pharmacy and the doctor’s office. There we empty the hides from the leather sacks and hoist the twins into their places. I notch small holes in the sacks so they can breathe, and hope that no one notices how the shape of these packs has changed completely from the full stuffing of before.
The twins don’t complain. They’re the bravest kids I know.
“Aya,” Nina whispers as I place a fur over her.
“Yes?”
“The Driver boy can talk.”
I smile. “I know. But it’s a secret, okay? We can’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t. I’m good at secrets.”
“Quiet now.”
She doesn’t make another sound. The last I see of her is the reflection of her eyes in the darkness, just before I cover her with a pelt.
I blow out a slow breath through my teeth and prepare for what’s to come.
We begin our journey back towards the front gates. Lorcan’s sticking to side streets, avoiding the main drag. We step over a body in the alley, its eyes red and swollen from the plague. I’m glad the twins don’t see him, but I can’t help but wonder what other horrors they have seen since Salma brought them here.
Downtown, the music has begun and the market has opened. I can hear the screech of the speakers, even half a city away. It pumps a new urgency through me.
When the neighborhoods end, we have to cross back onto Main Street to enter the business district. Walking this way places us directly beside the Garden, and my heart beats harder as the familiar chain fence and its cameras come into view. The rec yard is empty today—the girls must be inside for one of the Governess’s presentations—but in my mind I can see them in their black dresses, standing in their groups by the water, calling to the men who walk by on their way to work.
I hear the clatter of livestock on the pavement up ahead and think for a moment that it might be the man with the goats. I’m wrong. It’s a team of four horses, already saddled, tethered to a single rider on a prancing black gelding. I glance up as we approach. The man has a thin face with high, ashy cheeks. Greasy gray hair. A turned-up snout.
Ferret Face. Aran. The Driver from the barn where Kiran worked.
I place my hand protectively on the leather sack, feeling Nina adjust beneath. Kiran is on the other side with Tam. Lorcan still leads the palomino.
Aran looks at Lorcan and nods quickly. He glances over to me next, and I can feel his stare burning right through my forehead. He knows who I am; he must. There’s no reason for him to look at me this long. The need to run hits my feet, and I begin pushing faster. But Lorcan keeps the same steady pace.
Aran pulls to a halt. A quick glance up reveals that he’s looking over the animal’s back, directly at Kiran. His face grows tight with confusion. Even over the sounds of the horses stamping impatiently on the cobblestones, I can hear his sharp breath.
We walk on briskly, leaving Aran open-mouthed in the center of the street. I pat Nina reassuringly, but this time she doesn’t move. Neither of them have made a sound. They’re both doing so well. They know how important it is to stay still.
That or they’re unconscious, smothered by the stench and the weight of the pelts.
We cannot reach the gate fast enough.
When we pass the Black Lanes I don’t look over to see the posters hanging on the wall of the brothel. I keep my head down and my feet moving.
At last we reach the Watcher station, the most dangerous part of our journey. Now, if the twins—especially an Unpromised Nina—are found, we will be lucky to hang. More likely, we’ll end up bleeding in the street at the end of a Watcher wire. I shove these thoughts from my mind. There is nothing we can do now but push forward.
Travelers and traders are still attempting to enter the city. Outside, the man with the goats has finally organized his crew and is attempting to enter. The small white animals are bleating loudly, finally tied together by different ropes.
One of the Watchers registers our presence with a stiff tilt of his head. Without prompting, Lorcan opens his long black coat, revealing that the jewelry pieces are now gone. He hands back the red business pass, which we’ve used for less than two hours, and the Watcher takes it. There are no questions asked about any weapons, food, or machinery.
The man leads his goats through the gates just as we are approaching.
The second Watcher sees us from the station and heads our direction. I can feel the cool knife I’ve moved from the sack to my hip and hope that I don’t have to use it.
He goes to Kiran’s side first, intent to check our goods rather than ask the security questions he thinks we won’t understand. His monstrous shoulders tower over the bowed back of the stallion and Kiran’s hunched form.
Lifting the leather covering, the Watcher reaches inside, inches away from where I know Tam is laying. My eyes focus on the wire strapped to his chest. Every hair on my body prickles.
Before we came, Lorcan promised me one thing. If something happened to me, he would get the twins out of the city. I feel that promise now, riding on my shoulders like a storm cloud ready to burst.
I will trade my life for Tam and Nina’s.
At that moment Kiran falters backwards, and when he does, he trips over a goat. In his attempt to right himself, he stumbles into the owner, who releases the ropes binding the small herd together. The goats pull all different directions, bleating while their owner yells at Kiran.
The goats escape down Main Street.
Kiran is brilliant.
The man chases after the herd. The Watchers appear as though they might follow, but first point us through. On the way by, I see one pick up his messagebox and begin typing what I assume is an alert to his comrades stationed farther down on Main Street about the incoming chaos.
The gray wall looms high above on either side, disappearing into the mist and smog as though it was an illusion to begin with. As though this victory is not real. But it is.
We are free.