Pickpocket rubs his jaw again. “Thanks, Pete. He’s getting worse.”
Pete nods. “We’ve lost three Scavengers in the last month, and the ones that are still running are bringing back less and less each scavenge. He’s not coping with the dwindling supplies very well. I’ll talk to him.”
“You’d better do it sooner than later. The Littles are frightened of him and the Biggers are about to string him up by his bootstraps,” Pyro says.
“I’ll take care of it today. Go have Doc take a look at that,” Pete says, pointing at the gash on Pickpocket’s chin.
Pickpocket rubs his sleeve across the open wound. “Nah, it’s just a paper cut.”
Pete grins and shakes his head. He cups his hands to his mouth and crows like a rooster. His voice reverberates off the metal pipes. Children spill from the buildings and tunnels.
“Listen up, Lost Boys! We have guests,” Pete says.
With wide eyes and gaping mouths, the children stare at me. “It’s a girl,” the younger ones whisper to one another, pointing in my direction.
“Oh, here we go again with the ‘it’s a girl,’ ” Bella says, rolling her eyes. She deploys her wings and flutters to the ground, landing on the dirt floor with a thud. “What do you numskulls think I am?”
“She’s so … so huge,” a young boy says. Approaching with caution, he tips his head to the side and raises an eyebrow. “You’re not from Everland, are you? Are you one of those pirates?”
“Of course not. Do you think I would bring a Marauder down here?” Pete asks.
The boys train their eyes on me, but say nothing. I fidget and try not to meet their gaze. Mikey shifts closer to me, clearly uncomfortable.
Shaking his head and rubbing his face with one hand, Pete mumbles, “I’m going to have to have Cogs check the air intake. You Littles must be oxygen deprived.”
He marches to the city center, leaving me feeling vulnerable as the group of gawking boys surrounds me. Pete climbs the fountain, stands on the statue, curls in his bottom lip, and blows out a shrill whistle.
“Lost Boys!” he announces. “This is Gwen. You will treat her with the same respect you would treat any other Lost Boy. Is this clear?”
“Or Lost Girl,” Bella adds in a disgruntled tone.
The boys murmur their reply, but their words are muddled.
“I said, is that clear?” Pete shouts.
The boys reply, “Yes, sir!” Some grunt but say nothing.
“Wait!” a teenage boy calls, peering through goggles with thick lenses. His eyes appear larger than they should behind the glass. “She isn’t a Lost Kid unless there’s a vote. That’s what the rules say.” His tone is authoritative, but still has a hint of hesitancy.
“Justice’s gotta point,” Scout says, and spits on the ground.
Justice twists a knob on the side of his goggles. The lenses move forward, protruding from his face like two telescopes. He pulls a spiral notebook from his shirt pocket, flips a few pages, and clears his throat.
“According to the Statutes of the City of Lost Kids, section fifteen, article five, subarticle A-3, ‘No Lost Boy shall bring outsiders within the city limits without prior consent and two-thirds vote of the Lost citizens,’ ” the boy says, holding up the notebook. “Rules are rules.”
Bella marches up to Justice and swats the paper pad out of his hand. A few loose pages slip from the metal spiral spine as the notebook flutters to the floor. The boy frowns at Bella as his lips press into a thin line.
“Do that again, princess, and I’ll dip your wings in candle wax. You’ll be grounded for at least a day or more,” Justice says, glaring at Bella.
Bella is unfazed and only smirks. “You and your book of stupid rules! I’m tired of them.”
Justice grimaces. “You do know what the statutes say about retaliating against another Lost Boy, don’t you, Bella?”
“I’m not a Lost Boy—the rules don’t apply to me.” She crosses her arms, almost as if she is expecting the boy to challenge her.
“We’re going to have to call an emergency council meeting and make an amendment to include Lost Girls,” he growls.
Justice bends to pick up his notebook, but Bella steps on it. She leans in close so that she is only centimeters from his face. “Are you sure you really want to do that?” she says. “Remember what happened the last time you called an emergency council meeting? How did that work out for you?”
Justice releases the notebook, leaving it under Bella’s boot. He stands, rolls his shoulders back, and straightens his waistcoat. “I was cleaning glue from the gears of my spectacles for weeks,” Justice mutters.
Bella stands on her tiptoes so she’s close to Justice’s ear. “Pete and I found firecrackers on our last scavenge. It’d be a shame if they found their way into your sleeping quarters.”