Gates of Thread and Stone

CHAPTER 31

 

 

 

I DIDN’T WALK to meet him. I ran, throwing myself against his chest. This isn’t a dream. Please don’t be a dream.

 

He didn’t respond right away. But then his arms closed around me. I sank against him, squeezing my eyes shut. He wasn’t wearing his leather tunic, and I pushed my face into his soft undershirt, letting the cloth absorb my tears.

 

Reev. Reev. He was here. He remembered me. I held on, my fingers digging into the familiar comfort of his arms.

 

“What are you doing here?” he asked quietly. I relished the sound of his voice, letting it wash over me.

 

“I came for you, of course.” I drew back to get a look at him, but the hallway was too dim. “Are you okay? Have they done anything to you? Why didn’t you find Avan after his match this morning? You recognized him, didn’t you?”

 

“I was being watched,” he said.

 

“You could have signaled me or—or done something, I don’t know. Do you have any idea how it felt, wondering—”

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling me in and placing a kiss against my temple.

 

All that frustration and anger—none of it mattered anymore. There was no room for that now.

 

“It’s complicated,” he continued. “I can’t stay long. How did you even get here?”

 

“We went to the Black Rider. He helped sneak us in, and he’s going to help get you out. We have a plan.” I gripped his shoulders and rose on my toes, bouncing like Grene. In less than a day, we would be gone from here. Everything would be okay. “Will you be at my match tomorrow morning?”

 

“I don’t know. I haven’t been told which matches I’m to oversee. But yours is at eleven.”

 

I beamed. He had figured out my alias. I never should have doubted him.

 

“I need you to meet me at noon behind the dorms. There’s a manhole where one of the Rider’s hollows will lead us out.”

 

Reev went still. I could only tell he was breathing because I was pressed to his chest.

 

“Reev?”

 

He nodded. “I know where that is.”

 

His hands slid to my waist, and he nudged me back. I let him, joy engulfing all the uncertainty. I had more things to tell him, but they could wait until we were safely out of Ninurta.

 

He peered down at me as if waiting for something.

 

“What did they do to you?” I reached behind his neck. “Why didn’t you tell me about—” Reev squeezed my wrist. I let out a small gasp.

 

Immediately, he loosened his grip. He brought my wrist to his lips to kiss away the hurt the way he used to when I was a kid. The action made me smile.

 

“Like I said. It’s complicated.” His voice was rough. “I’m sorry I kept it from you, but they’ve begun cleansing my memories. I can’t—” He looked pained. “The Kahl means to put a new collar on me afterward. It’s been . . . difficult.”

 

All the better that we were leaving tomorrow. I wished we could go now. I couldn’t stand letting them have my brother a moment longer.

 

“It’s just one more night,” I said, more to reassure myself than Reev.

 

He glanced over his shoulder, his hand tensing around my wrist. “I should go. They’ve probably noticed I’m missing.”

 

“Reev—” He cut me off by hugging me again, and I touched my forehead to his shoulder.

 

I wanted to catch the threads to stretch out our time together. How was I supposed to let him go? At least the separation would be brief.

 

“Please be safe,” I told him.

 

“Of course. Be careful in your match tomorrow. I’ll see you soon.”

 

“Are you sure you’ll be able to—”

 

“Yes,” Reev said, and gave me a nudge toward the stairs. He softened the action with a smile. “Now get back to your room before we both get in trouble.”

 

 

 

I couldn’t stop smiling. At my floor, I turned down the hallway and came up short. Avan stood outside his door with another boy. Neither of them noticed me.

 

It wasn’t the fact Avan had broken the lights-out rule that gave me pause, it was the body language of the boy with him. He was shorter than Avan, around my height, with sleek, well-groomed White Court hair and large eyes that watched Avan with enough interest to make me seethe. He rested a fine-boned hand against Avan’s arm. His body seemed to strain forward without actually moving.

 

I wouldn’t have minded if this boy was my opponent tomorrow.

 

Avan moved to open his door. His smile was practiced but still warm enough not to be entirely false.

 

When he turned to face the boy again, his back to me, the boy leaned in. I sucked in my breath, unbalanced, as if my feet had been knocked out from under me.

 

Avan pressed a hand to the boy’s shoulder. He must have said something, because the boy’s face went red and he seemed to shrink in on himself, averting his eyes. Then he awkwardly rubbed at his neck as his mouth formed what looked like the words good night. He hurried away. Avan stepped into his room.

 

“Savorn.”

 

His back stiffened. Then he relaxed and looked over his shoulder, a real smile on his face.

 

“What are you doing wandering around?” He opened his door wider and motioned for me to come in.

 

Once the door shut, I said, “I found Reev.”

 

Avan’s fingers paused in unbelting his tunic. “It occurred to me earlier that our rooms might be monitored.”

 

I glanced around at the blank walls. “How? Peepholes in the ceiling?”

 

“If Kahl Ninu can enslave mahjo, then I wouldn’t underestimate him.”

 

Drek. I rubbed my temple. Well, it was too late now. We’d already said more than enough to condemn us.

 

“Tell me anyway,” Avan said, probably thinking the same thing.

 

I grinned. “He’s agreed to the plan.”

 

Avan turned away and tugged off his tunic. I admired his back, the lean muscles and angular planes I now knew by heart. I did not, however, know about the fine scars scattered across his shoulder blades. They were pale against his skin. Had those been caused by his dad or maybe by a past lover? My happiness wilted.

 

Avan didn’t notice as he tossed the tunic into the hatch in the wall. He disappeared into the washroom.

 

“That’s great,” he said over the sound of splashing water. “Wasn’t expecting it to be that easy.”

 

Something in his tone made me feel defensive. “Reev recognized us during your match. He couldn’t say anything because he was being watched.”

 

“Okay,” he said, reappearing. He had dried his face with a towel, but wet strands of hair curled beneath his jaw. A bead of water splashed against his collarbone. “I trust you.”

 

I smiled. With those three words, he had put me at ease.

 

He crossed his arms over his chest, stomach muscles flexing as he leaned against the door frame. Just as I had imagined, his tattoo crawled across the side of his chest in jagged black branches. What I hadn’t imagined were the three brilliant-green leaves at the tip of the longest branch—the only leaves on the tree.

 

Before I lost my nerve, I pointed to his chest and asked, “What does that mean?”

 

He looked down, his fingers tracing one crooked branch. The corner of his mouth twitched up. “It’s stupid.”

 

“Tell me anyway,” I said, repeating his earlier words.

 

His hand dropped to his side. “I got the trunk and the branches done when I moved out of the shop. The tree had one leaf. Kind of like . . . the start of something new.” He rubbed his neck and shifted so that he was turned away from me. He actually seemed embarrassed. “Something good, I mean. I figured I would add more leaves as . . . well, as things changed.”

 

I knew it had been important for him to get his own place and to get some distance from his dad, but I hadn’t understood how much it meant to him to separate himself from the life he’d known beneath his dad’s roof. Knowing this now made me wish I’d done more than kick that man’s decrepit ass.

 

“That’s not stupid,” I said. Avan looked back at me.

 

Now I was embarrassed. I busied myself poking through a book at the top of a pile. I had to know, and since we were both already feeling awkward . . .

 

“What was that about just now?” I asked. “We’re not supposed to mingle with other teams, remember?”

 

“I guess you haven’t noticed everyone breaking that particular rule,” Avan said, his words laced with amusement. I looked up, and, sure enough, he was flashing me his dimple. “I was asking around. We were on a tight deadline to find Reev.”

 

“That was about Reev?” I remembered the way the boy leaned in, as if expecting Avan to reciprocate.

 

Avan pushed off the door frame and crossed the room. “He took my friendliness to mean something else. It tends to happen.”

 

“I’ve noticed.” I propped my hip against the table, watching him approach, his dark eyes searching. His lashes were longer than mine. I drew an unsteady breath. The weight of unspoken things settled into the space between us, space I wanted so badly to close that my body ached with it.

 

His throat moved as he swallowed. “Can I be honest with you, Kai?”

 

“Aren’t you always?”

 

He opened his mouth but closed it again.

 

I searched for words to replace his silence. “Did . . . did you mind it? His misinterpretation.”

 

I winced at my clumsiness. Avan’s smile twisted into a smirk. I brushed my fingers against his lips, wanting to wipe away that look.

 

He caught my hand and held it. His breath warmed my fingertips. I shivered.

 

“No,” he whispered against my skin.

 

Then he let go, and I pulled my hand to my chest, fingers curling into my palm as if I could carry with me the feel of his mouth and breath.

 

“Because he didn’t mean anything by it,” Avan continued. “It was sweet.”

 

His eyes grew distant. I wondered if he was recalling people who hadn’t been so sweet. I touched his cheek to bring him back.

 

And what about me?

 

“Do you . . . um . . . prefer . . .” I shouldn’t ask. It was none of my business.

 

“I don’t have a preference,” he said. “It’s not always about gender.”

 

I nodded, focusing on a white scar along Avan’s collarbone. There was a slight bump there, as if it had been broken once and hadn’t healed quite right.

 

“Can I ask you something else? Since we’re being honest with each other.”

 

Avan’s expression turned wary. “Okay.”

 

“When were you going to tell me about what you are?”

 

“I’m a lot of things,” he said. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

 

“You’re a descendant,” I said, ignoring his teasing.

 

His eyes widened just a fraction. But then his lips curved—beautiful, charming, and completely fake.

 

“You’re mahjo. I know you’ve realized it.”

 

He looked down, his lashes casting shadows beneath his eyes. “I don’t know,” he said.

 

He stepped away and sat at the edge of his bed.

 

“Of course you do. But there’s something I don’t understand. Why—” The image of a young, bruised Avan formed in my mind. Why didn’t you heal then the way you do now?

 

I couldn’t ask it, even though he probably knew what I was thinking. I would have to wait until he shared it with me.

 

I nervously tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “Never mind.”

 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “People like to ask questions. I’m usually better at deflecting them. It’s just, with you . . . I feel like I have to be more guarded.”

 

“Why?”

 

He spoke carefully, measuring each word. “Because I’m not used to anyone having the power to hurt me anymore.”

 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

He smiled that crooked smile. “It’s not always a bad hurt.”

 

Oh.

 

We’d been skirting the issue for a while now, but I didn’t know how to deal with the feelings Avan stirred in me. I wasn’t even sure if they were real or just my imagination twisting his words and gestures to mean what I wanted. All I knew was that I sure as drek couldn’t do this while Reev was still a slave to Ninu.

 

But after—after Irra helped Reev, we’d be free of Ninurta forever. I could see the same conclusion in Avan’s eyes. The promise of an end we both wanted.

 

“I’ve missed having you nearby at night. I wish you could stay here with me,” he said softly. His mouth twitched. “And not like that. Although . . . maybe like that, too.”

 

My whole body went hot. I straightened off the edge of the table, hyperaware of how easy it would be to cross the meager distance and step into his embrace.

 

I wanted him, and the strength of it was shocking. I wanted to put my lips against the scars on his back and claim them for my own. I wanted to whisper in his ear to teach me everything I didn’t know, to let him pull me into his bed and make me forget all the fears weighing on my heart.

 

The way his eyes narrowed and his fingers curled into the mattress showed he knew exactly what I was thinking.

 

I licked my lips. “I should—”

 

Avan reached me in two steps. I sucked in a ragged breath, my body helplessly arching into his as he buried his hands in my hair. My fingers dug into his shoulders, hard muscles tensed at my touch. His mouth hovered above mine, excruciatingly close.

 

His dark lashes lowered, and he touched our lips together. His kiss was gentle at first, tentative. Then I made a quiet, needy sound, and something in him seemed to snap, because he pushed me back against the table. His mouth slanted hungrily over mine. My own self-control unraveled around me as I trembled, clutching him to keep from falling even as I kissed back just as fiercely.

 

How many times had I imagined this moment? I felt my longing answered in his urgency, in the way his hand moved down my back, the way his body pressed into me. His lips skimmed kisses down my jaw, my neck.

 

Then he stopped. His mouth was hot, but still, against my skin. He whispered, “Go.”

 

I tried to catch my breath. “What?”

 

Slowly, his hands lifted from me, and he stepped back until we were no longer touching. I shivered from the sudden lack of heat.

 

“You were saying,” he said, hunched over, his hand pressed to his eyes, shielding his expression from me, “that you should go.”

 

My thoughts rushed back, along with all the reasons why this couldn’t happen right now. Reev came first, my own selfish desires second. Without a word, I turned and let myself out.

 

 

 

The next morning, I was so anxious that—aside from an initial awkward greeting during which we both avoided eye contact—even Avan couldn’t distract me for long. My stomach insisted I eat, and I knew I’d need whatever strength I could get, so I forced the food down and headed up to the prep room.

 

Reev wasn’t among the sentinels, but I wasn’t worried. He would meet us behind the dorms in just over an hour.

 

I paced in the corner.

 

“You’ve got this, Nel,” Tariza said. “If we win all our matches today, we’ll make the top five. Top five teams are guaranteed to continue to the next round.”

 

I cast him a grateful look for the encouragement. Against all odds, I had begun to think of us as a real team. It would be hard to leave them.

 

A Watchman called my name. Hands patted my shoulders as I stepped forward. Which arena would I get today? Tariza’s had been sand, the silted floor slowing down movement and testing balance. Grene’s had been under a foot of water, enough to make her natural grace a little sluggish. Both would work against me considering speed was my main advantage.

 

When I pushed through the doors, I found myself standing in the same arena that Avan had fought in yesterday. Packed dirt.

 

Behind me, Grene and Tariza shouted my name excitedly as they entered the box with Avan. The three sentinel judges sat in the stands across from me. The door at the other end of the arena opened.

 

Reev came through. My joy at seeing him was cut short when no one else followed him out. He stood opposite me.

 

“Match number sixty-one: Nel versus Twenty-two.”