Illuminate (18 page)

Lance checked his watch and announced, “Quittin’ time. Six o’clock. I think that’s fair, right?”

“Sounds good to me.” I put the finishing touches on a milky gray patch of sky hovering over the bloody lake. Staring at this long enough wouldn’t help with my nightmares.

As we packed everything up, my mind began its transition to my nighttime persona—the scared girl who was a slave to this curious book. My hands were still raw from clawing at those planks last night. My muscles had eased but they didn’t feel ready to go through all of that again.

“So what are you up to tonight?” Lance asked. His hands were full with paint canisters, after reorganizing the shelves of the supply closet, while I rinsed our brushes in the sink.

I had almost forgotten: “I’m supposed to take pictures at the Vault.”

“I’m sure you’ll find plenty of willing subjects.”

“No kidding.” People there certainly didn’t seem shy. Maybe I’d even get to see Dante. Our schedules were so different, I was starting to really miss him. “I do kinda wanna try some of the snacks and things Dante’s been testing out in the club. It beats having to make our own dinner, right? You should come too.”

“You had me at snacks.”

“I figured that would clinch it. I guess maybe eleven again?”

“Works for me.”

I finished with the brushes and then went to collect the camera. I thought I might try to sneak in a nap before my photography duties.

Lance had just finished up and was turning off the light in the storage room.

“I think we’re all set here,” he said. And something occurred to me.

“Question.” I hesitated. “Do you think anyone would mind if I stole one of the ladders, real quick?”

He gave me a funny, what-are-you-up-to look.

“The string broke on that light at the top of my closet. Have you noticed the ceilings are freakishly high?” Probably not, since he’s about six feet tall. “I mean, not for you, but—”

“If you wanted help, you just had to ask.”

“No, I wasn’t—”

“Sure, I know, you have your pride. Let’s go.”

Lance hauled the ladder down the elevator. It was kind of nice to have the help. It would’ve taken me twice as long and I probably wouldn’t have been able to lift it in the first place and if I had then I probably would’ve knocked out a lighting fixture or something along the way. He also insisted on reattaching the string himself. I stood nearby shining the flashlight up at him as his nimble fingers worked.

“I’m impressed you have a flashlight,” he said. “That’s more of a guy thing, to bring something like that.”

“Well, I brought stuffed animals too.”

“Did you really?” He looked down at me.

“No.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed now in my lack of girlishness.

“Not that I don’t appreciate this, but just so you know, I could totally do this.” He wasn’t listening.

“How many honors students does it take to change a light bulb—”

I cut him off: “It doesn’t even need to be changed; it’s just the string that—”

“Two. One to do it while the other one argues that she doesn’t need help because she can do everything by herself.”

“I don’t need help,” I said, smiling at my own expense.

“Exactly.”

“But if you want to be macho, then who am I to stand in the way.” I gesticulated with the flashlight.

“Light please. Up here.”

I shined it right at him, blinding him for a moment. He shielded his face. “Yup, thanks.”

I wasn’t trying to be difficult. I just wanted this all wrapped up as quickly as possible. I couldn’t decide whether the book would consider it some sort of violation that I hadn’t repaired this myself. With a click and a twang, the light went on.

“You’re in business,” Lance said, giving the string a couple extra tugs to secure it.

“Thanks.”

“Any other odd jobs?” he asked as he stepped down from the ladder.

“No.” I laughed. “I think that’s it for now, but I’ll let you know. Thanks again.”

“Sure thing.” He breathed on his glasses and cleaned the lenses on his T-shirt. “Dusty up there.” His eyes were bigger without them and a little spacey, since he couldn’t see well. His scar wasn’t so bad at all. Maybe it was selfish for me to think that I liked it because I had three sets of them, but he wore it well. It made my heart ache just a little to know how much it bothered him.

“Yeah, turns out there’s no maid service for our rooms,” I said, with just enough sarcasm.

“I’m still waiting for them to tell us that
we’re
going to be the maid service.”

“Funny,” I said. “Or, I mean, I hope that ends up being a joke. Between you and me, we’d get fired.”

“At least you started making your bed.”

“Ha-ha.”

“So, eleven.”

“Eleven it is,” I said.

He started to let himself out and then turned back around. “You good till then?” His protective streak setting in.

“I’m fine, just gonna do some reading, hang out.” I thought of the book, thankful it hadn’t been out. But then, it never seemed to be around when anyone was in there, like a shy kitten who hides when the doorbell rings.

He nodded, finding this answer acceptable. “See ya then.”

I waved and thanked him again. He had left the ladder, but no one would need it between now and tomorrow morning, so I just pulled the string and closed the closet door.

It was sloth night at the Vault, which seemed ironic to me since I had been ordered there to work. The two Outfit members at the door—the same girl as always, but no Beckett—waved Lance and me right through, no problem. Since I was on the job, I decided that also meant I didn’t have to go to any extra trouble to wear just the right thing. My jeans and thermal long-sleeved tee would have to do. Besides, without Dante’s styling help, there wasn’t much hope for me anyway. Lance, unsurprisingly, showed up in the same thing he’d had on all day—jeans and a T-shirt over a long-sleeved shirt—even sporting a splatter or two of black paint. He stuck by my side as I roamed the place, snapping shots of the raucous partygoers and randy dancers, and the couples who had retreated into those hollowed-out stalagmite-like structures.

We had managed to orbit the ring of fire a number of times without either one of us suggesting we go up there. Raphaella, I noticed during our second trip around the ring, had latched on to Lance, her eyes following him around the club. I saw him looking up at her from time to time but then he would just as easily turn his gaze elsewhere. I finally stopped in my tracks when I saw that cascade of blond zeroing in once more from her perch. I faced him like I had serious news to tell him.

“Raphaella is totally checking you out again.”

“Really?” He glanced over. There she was.

“Like you didn’t notice,” I teased.

He looked shy.

“Go on.” I flicked my head toward the ring. “Just because she barely talks to me doesn’t mean she won’t talk to you.” I cringed at the thought of my thwarted attempt to befriend her that first night.

He glanced at the ring of fire, weighing it for just a second. I looked up there too—I’d had one eye on that platform all night long but still no sign of Lucian. The camera had been a good excuse to come around here looking like I had a greater purpose than just finding him. It was actually comforting that he hadn’t shown up—maybe he really did have that much work to do.

“You cool down here?” Lance asked, decision made.

“Totally. I’m just gonna take a few more and then probably head back. Go!” I smiled. “See you tomorrow.”

He nodded and wandered, hands in his pockets, over to that spiral staircase. I watched him bounce up the stairs. Bodies circulated all around me but I felt strangely solitary, a lone tree growing in a completely barren and deserted field. Lance’s presence had become a comfortable and familiar one. We could talk or not, it didn’t matter. It was just easy. I could certainly follow him up there onto that platform. Even if I sat there alone I would have the warmth of all those desirous eyes, all those other people in the room who longed for an invitation up there, knowing nothing of the icy chill or the hierarchy or that Lance and Dante and I didn’t really, truly belong. If we were in the ring, anyone looking in wanted to be us as much as they wanted to be any of the others up there. When you’re on the outside of anything and looking in, there is a tacit understanding that everything on the inside has more value.

I had been standing still, watching too closely for too long, when I felt a playful slap at my arm.

“I haven’t seen you in years, girl!” Dante said, wide grin, when I turned around. He held a tray in the other hand, with a single perfectly fashioned morsel of something.

“Hey!” I squeezed his hand. “You’re looking pretty at home. So this is where you’ve been spending your nights.”

“It’s crazy but I love it.”

“I bet you do. How’s it going?”

“Great! Exhausting, but great. Oooh, you’ve got to try one of these.” He held the tray out to me.

“There’s only one left.”

“They’re that good. Take it, it’s all yours!”

“What is it?” I picked up the warm cloud of puffed pastry with some kind of sauce and spice dusted on top. The whole thing was barely bigger than a chocolate candy.

“A little bit of heaven.”

I popped it in my mouth, in one bite. “Mmmm,” I purred. It was very pretty and very tasty—melty with cheese inside, and sweet with the slightest kick. Whatever it was, I could’ve eaten ten more.

“Good, right? Better go, Etan’s got me workin’ like mad. Catch up tomorrow?” He kissed me on the cheek.

“Definitely. Have fun!”

He waved and hoisted the tray up on one hand, making his way through the crowd. He looked like this was his party, and he was the perfect host.

I watched as the revelry spun around me. I was part of this too. But still, I wasn’t sure what it would take for me to feel included, to not be waiting for someone to discover I didn’t belong.

As the night went on, I managed to sample more bits and bites from Dante and Etan’s test kitchen on trays hoisted by gorgeous servers. I’d eaten enough that the night could’ve been gluttony instead of sloth, but through it all I had snapped my photos, so there would be plenty to show to Aurelia. I could safely call it a night. But first, one last shot. The last shot is always the boldest, because you know you’re about to escape and have nothing to lose.

I crept up the stairs of the ring of fire, and just before reaching the top of the platform, I caught sight of Lance and Raphaella. He was talking to her and she was just staring at him, her fingers playing with that necklace, fluttering over it. He didn’t see me take the picture. I was sure he would be glad to know I had, though.

I scanned quickly: no Lucian. But I did see Beckett. He had a drink in his hand and watched the floor of the club over the top of the flames, in a way that convinced me this was the first time he had been permitted to leave his post at the door to see the place from this privileged vantage point. He was in profile and then he turned: he had a patch over one eye.

12. Don’t Get Too Comfortable

I skulked back down the stairs and scurried out of the club, my pace as brisk as possible without incurring notice or causing alarm. I just needed to go. I was probably overreacting, but I preferred to overreact from the comfort of my room, not in close proximity to someone who may have possibly roughed me up in the aisle of a drugstore and mugged a woman. I got to my room and felt achingly alone. So much so that I didn’t know if I’d be able to sleep. Then it hit me: it wasn’t exactly my decision whether or not I could sleep. That book was really starting to cramp my style. I snuggled back against the wall with it and began turning those familiar pages, turning, turning. And there it was, as expected, today’s date and fresh writing.

You are tired from the exertions of last night. Rest, winged one. But don‘t get too comfortable. Shore up your strength for what‘s to come.

Your training must begin in earnest tomorrow. Tomorrow night, you will steal away down the passageway you discovered and run from the starting point at the bottom of the ladder to the farthest point you found—

I thought of that distance now, that bar with the music, the storage room—that would be the finish line, according to this.

And then you will run back. Go to your fullest potential for an hour, every other day until further notice. You will eventually need to make this distance lightning fast; this skill may one day save your life.

I didn’t know exactly how fast I was capable of running, nor did I know the precise distance between these two points. I only knew that it was pretty far and that I was no track and field champion. I got the idea that the book was taunting me for being in relatively poor shape, which I didn’t appreciate. It went on.

This will be your primary interest for the next week or so. Otherwise, simply do as others tell you. Do your best to not draw attention to yourself. Whatever discoveries you may make over the course of these next several days, tuck them away. You will be told when it‘s time to investigate them.

And steel yourself. You will soon be tested in a manner you have never known.

I flipped through a couple pages to see if there was anything else, but no. This brief missive, more vague than any I’d received so far, hit me harder than anything the book had told me since that dreaded first entry. There is nothing worse than knowing something life-shattering is headed your way and being powerless to stop it.

But nothing could be done tonight, so I tucked the book away in the night table and, noticing the closet light on, ducked in to pull the string. It came off in my hands with the twang of a busted guitar string. I took out my flashlight and climbed up the ladder. I shined the light up, threaded the string through a tiny eyelet on the fixture, and tied a quadruple knot, giving it a few good tugs. But the motion made me slip, and I threw my hand on the ceiling to steady myself. To my surprise, the panel groaned hollowly and lifted up. My stomach tightening, I slowly slid the whole flimsy panel to the side, peeking in. My light beam caught a flurry of dust, cobwebs, and a narrow passageway, large enough to crawl through. I couldn’t begin to imagine where this might lead but I had a feeling I would be forced to find out. Tonight though, it seemed I would be off the hook. So I wedged that trusty desk chair under the doorknob again and crawled into bed.