Phoenix (13 page)

Weevil’s blood splashes against the window, and all the children scream. I slam my
back against the wall, screwing my eyes shut. Panic rushes through me. What if they’ve
caught Ash or Elijah? I force myself to open my eyes and calm down. I have to find
them.

The dark carriage is hot and muggy and crammed with children. Every seat is already
taken, and many kids sit on the metal floor. The place is already unbearably hot.
Sweat drips down my face and back, and I wish I could take off the suffocating bandaging
around my chest, but people might be a bit alarmed if Matthew Dungate suddenly sprang
a set of C cups.

I help the two red-haired girls find a place to sit and give them both a quick cuddle.
The younger girl with the gap tooth grabs my hand.

“Don’t leave us,” she whispers.

“You’ll be all right. Centrum is a great place to live. All the kids are really nice,
and there are loads of parks to play in.” This seems to cheer the girl up a little
bit. “I have to go and find my . . . er . . . my brother. We got separated, and he’ll
be worried. Will you be okay?”

The little girl sniffs and nods.

I stand up and scan the carriage, searching for Ash and Elijah—they were supposed
to meet me here. Nothing. I check again, remembering they’re disguised. Worry bubbles
up inside me as I check every face for a third time, but don’t see them. They’re not
on the train.

NATALIE

MAYBE THEY’RE WAITING
for me in the wrong carriage?
I reassure myself as I hurry through the train as fast as I can, accidentally bumping
people’s shoulders with my bag in my haste. “Sorry, sorry,” I mutter all the way down,
my heart in my mouth, hoping more than anything Ash and Elijah made it on board. What
if they got caught? Ash could be on his way to a prison cell right now while I’m stuck
on this train, unable to help him.

Black City whizzes by the barred windows as the train picks up speed. In two days
we’ll be in Georgiana, where everyone, except us, will disembark to get their connecting
ride to Centrum. We’ll be taking another train to Thrace. I scan the faces of everyone
in the next carriage, then the next, desperation rising inside me when I don’t see
them anywhere. I pass through a cargo carriage, which is packed to the ceiling with
red-and-white enameled bowls, then yank open the steel door to the next car on the
brink of tears.

I stop dead.

The whole carriage is full of Sentry guards. There must be at least fifty of them,
all laughing as they play cards and drink Shine. On their tables are portable digital
screens, streaming the latest news from SBN. Leaning against their legs are their
rifles and swords. They peer up at me, and I quickly lower my cap, hiding my face.

“Sorry, looking for my brother,” I mumble and hurry down the aisle.

I pass a skinny guard with a shaved head and a red rose tattooed just above his left
ear. He watches me intently, his eyes narrowed, and my stomach flips when I realize
I know him. His name’s Neil . . . something. He used to work at the Sentry HQ when
my mother was the Emissary there. I must’ve passed him in the hallways a hundred times.

He kicks out a foot, blocking my path.

“Don’t I know you?” he says.

I shake my head. “No, sir.”

He runs a thumb over his lip, trying to place me. There’s no way I’m hanging around
while he works it out. I step over his leg and rush into the next carriage. A tall,
beautiful boy with startling blue eyes and sun-kissed skin walks down the aisle toward
me, anxiously scanning everyone’s faces and receiving a number of appreciative glances
in return. It takes a second for me to realize this tanned Adonis is Ash. Elijah is
behind him. Relief washes through me. I clamber over people’s outstretched legs and
bags and meet them in the middle of the carriage. Ash pulls me into a tight embrace.

“I was so worried about you,” he whispers.

“Me too,” I reply, stroking the side of his face.

We get a few funny looks from a group of kids nearby, and I remember I’m dressed as
a fourteen-year-old boy.

I reluctantly pull away from him. “We can’t go that way—I just bumped into a guard
I knew.”

“Did he recognize you?”

“He knew I looked familiar, but he couldn’t place me.”

“We should go back that way,” Elijah says, indicating the carriage they’ve just come
from.

We head to the next carriage, and Ash finds us an empty section of floor to sit down
on, wedged between a row of seats and a filthy toilet, which has a screen in front
of it instead of a proper door. It
stinks.
I try not to look too disheartened that we’re going to be stuck here for a few days.

“I will not sit there,” Elijah says through gritted teeth. “I’m the Consul’s son.
I won’t be treated like some dog.”

“There’s nowhere else for us to go. Unless you want to sit on the fragging roof?”
Ash says, pointing to the escape hatch above us.

Elijah scrunches up his nose.

Beside us, a teenage girl with curly black hair flashes us a curious look. I start
to feel tight around my chest, my anxiety mounting as it hits home that we’re trapped
on this train, with over fifty Sentry guards just a few carriages away. This was a
crazy plan! I tug at the bandages under my shirt.

“You okay?” Ash says.

“I have to loosen these bandages.” I go to the restroom and pull the screen over the
entranceway.

The cramped cubicle is lit by a single oil lamp overhead, casting an orange glow over
everything, which does little to improve the look of the rusting metal toilet and
sink. The smell is overpowering, but I try not to let it bother me as I frantically
open my shirt and loosen the bandages underneath. I turn on the faucets and take a
few sips of tepid water, starting to feel better.

“Look at her again, and I’ll rip your fragging throat out,” Ash snarls on the other
side of the screen.

I peer through the thin gap in the divider to see Ash’s hand gripped around Elijah’s
neck. It doesn’t take a genius to work out Elijah’s been watching me undress. The
creep!

“Ash, let him go before someone calls the guards,” I say through the screen.

He releases his hand, and Elijah rubs his bruised throat.

I button up my shirt, then rummage around in my pants pocket for my heart medication.
I pop one of the white pills, washing it down with water, and then check my reflection
in the cracked mirror above the sink. I curl my lip up at the sight. I look awful
with no makeup on. How do guys look so good without it? Even my eyes look all dull
and yellow . . .
yellow
?

I lean closer to the mirror. The white of my left eye does seem a little yellow, especially
at the corner, like it did on the night of my birthday. There’s definitely something
wrong with it. Have I caught an infection or something?
That’s all I need.
I sigh and leave the toilet, deliberately kicking Elijah’s leg as I sit down. This
gets a wry smile from Ash.

“You feeling better?” he asks.

“Much,” I say.

“Well, we’d better get comfortable. We’re going to be here for a few days,” Ash sighs.

Over the next six hours Elijah and I entertain ourselves with stories and games, trying
to stave off our boredom and anxiety, while Ash reads his mother’s diary, hoping to
find some clues about the tavern in the photograph, since it’s our only clue to finding
the Ora and Elijah’s mother. Time seems to drag, and every hour feels like three,
so I’m disappointed when I check my watch and discover it’s only four o’clock in the
afternoon. I sigh, and lean against Ash, who is still reading the journal.

“Find anything interesting?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I’ve scanned the journal for any mention of the Ora, Thrace,
Mirror City or Yolanda, and they’re not mentioned anywhere.” He puts the diary down.
“Most of the entries are about my mom’s life in her late teens and early twenties.
It’s interesting, but not very useful, I’m afraid.”

I study the photograph he’s using as a bookmark. It’s a picture of five Darklings,
taken in a forest glen with a mountain in the background.

“Is that your mother’s family?” I ask.

He nods, passing the photograph to me.

“That’s my mom, grandparents and Lucinda,” he says, pointing everyone out.

“Who’s this man in the background?” I say.

“I don’t know,” he replies.

I flip the image over and notice the writing scrawled on the back. “
Forest of Shadows, Amber Hills
? Where’s that?”

He shrugs. “I haven’t had a chance to look it up on a map yet.”

“Can I see the other photo, of the tavern?” I say.

Ash passes it to me, and I study the picture of the four girls in the tavern in Thrace.
Elijah leans over so he can look too, enveloping me in his warm, spicy scent. I trace
my finger over the picture, trying to reveal its secrets, but there’s not much to
go on. It’s just a normal tavern, with a wooden bar, shelves packed with bottles of
Shine, and a long mirror on the back wall.

Something catches my eye in the mirror. I bring the photo closer to my face, inspecting
it closely.
Could it be . . . yes!
I let out a squeak of delight, drawing the attention of the black-haired girl nearby.
She studies me for a moment before facing the other way again.

“What is it?” Ash asks in a low voice.

I point to the mirror.

Ash arches a brow. “Yeah . . . it’s a mirror. So?”

“Look at the reflection, silly,” I say, gesturing toward a rectangular object reflected
in its glassy surface. “It’s a tariff board, advertising room rates. And I’m betting
that writing at the top of the board is the name of the place.”

Elijah beams at me. We take it in turns studying the picture, trying to work out what
the reflected writing on the tariff board says.

“I don’t recognize the language,” I whisper, so the other passengers can’t hear us.

“It’s Thracian, the local language they use in the Provinces,” Elijah explains in
equally hushed tones. “This might be
luma
or
luna
?” He points to the second word.

“I think the first word is
la
and the last one
estrella
 . . . ?” I say. “It’s hard to read when it’s all backward.”

“La Luna Estrella? What does it mean?” Ash asks.

“My Thracian is a little rusty, but I think it translates as ‘the Moon Star,’” Elijah
replies.

Ash grabs his mother’s diary and flips through the pages until he finds what he’s
looking for.

“I saw this earlier,” he says, passing it to me.

I read the passage out loud, but keep my voice low.
“Dear diary . . .

“
What a week! The rally was a huge success, even though the Sentry guards arrested
several of the speakers. There were thousands of people outside the city hall at one
point, many of whom had traveled hundreds of miles to get there, just like us! It
was wonderful being around so many like-minded people. We made some great friends
at the boardinghouse where we were staying. Luci was particularly taken with this
really obnoxious girl named Landie—”

“Landie?” Elijah interjects, snatching the diary from Natalie.

“Hey!” I say.

“Sorry, it’s just Landie was my mom’s nickname,” he says, studying the diary entry.

“That would’ve been useful to know earlier,” Ash grumbles. “You know, preferably before
I’d scanned the entire diary for any reference to
Yolanda.
”

He glares at Ash. “It didn’t occur to me. No one called her Landie except my dad.”

“What else does it say?” I prompt.

Elijah picks up where I left off:
“We talked for hours about politics and how we dreamed of having a fair, democratic
government that represented all four races. I have real faith that we’ll learn to
peacefully coexist one day, but Kieran thinks I’m being naive. He believes a war between
the Sentry and the Darklings is inevitable after everything that happened in Amber
Hills.”

“Who’s Kieran?” I ask.

“He’s a Lupine my mom knew growing up,” Ash explains.

Elijah carries on reading from the diary.
“Luci and I are heading to Black City, as she heard the civil rights movement is
gaining a lot of traction there. We tried to persuade Kieran to join us, but he’s
got his heart set on staying at the Moon Star with the landlord’s daughter, Esme,
who can’t leave because her father is ill.”

His eyes catch mine at the mention of the Moon Star. “This has
got
to be where my mom’s gone!”

I pick up the photo. “Do you think the barmaid could be Esme?”

“Yeah, it’s very possible,” Ash replies, taking the diary back from Elijah. “And listen
to this . . .
I think it’s sweet how in love Kieran and Esme are. They go everywhere together, like
they’re joined at the hip. Luci doesn’t get it, but she’s never believed in love at
first sight.
” He closes the journal. “I think Kieran and Esme are the twins Lucinda was talking
about in her letter. It adds up.”

Elijah leans back against the wall, letting out a relieved sigh. “So that’s where
my mom went to meet Lucinda.
The Moon Star.
”

“Hopefully Esme can give us some clues to where they went,” I say.

Ash smiles at me, his eyes glimmering with hope. I’m feeling it too, although I know
there’s still a long way to go before we find the Ora. First, we have to get to Thrace
without being discovered. I stretch my legs, feeling stiff from sitting on the hard
floor for so long. The black-haired girl on the seat nearby gets up and turns to her
friend.

“I’m getting some food. You want anything?” she says.

Her friend nods. The girl heads down the aisle.

“You hungry?” Ash says.

I nod and he gets up.

“I’ll have some fish and a glass of milk,” Elijah says. “Oh, and maybe some Kalooma
berries, if they have any, but only if they’re ripe. I hate them when they’re green.”

“You’ll get whatever they have,” Ash growls.

“Be careful,” I say.

He squeezes my hand, then heads down the carriage on the hunt for something to eat.

The train rhythmically sways as the world outside the window flashes by. During the
course of our train ride, the sky has turned from azure blue to a startling crimson,
which can only mean one thing: we’re approaching the Barren Lands. The red skies are
a result of the desert sand being whipped up into the air by tornadoes so vast, they
can swallow whole towns. A deep canyon cuts through the desert like a bloody slash,
stretching on for as far as the eye can see.

Elijah sighs, tugging at his shirt collar. “They could do with opening a few windows.
I’m sweating like a pig in these clothes.”

“Delightful,” I say. “The windows are shut to keep the Wraths out.”

Elijah undoes the top few buttons of his shirt, revealing the smooth, tanned skin
underneath. Glistening beads of sweat slowly roll down his throat, making the tiny
hairs on his flesh shimmer. Inexplicably, my cheeks warm up. I cast my eyes away,
but not before he’s caught me looking.

“Like what you see, pretty girl?” he says.

I snort. “Oh, please. I’m trying not to vomit.”

“Well, I liked what I saw earlier very much.” His eyes drift down to my breasts.

I kick his leg. “Don’t
ever
spy on me again.”