"Hey, Zara, which one do you like best? I'm getting us all a kite to bring back home." Casper holds up two options, his cheer lifting my spirits. Toren is already arguing the many reasons as to why such a purchase is foolish and completely unnecessary. At the same time, Bash pretends not to be interested in a pinwheel as tall as I am.

"Miss? You had better get your boys. They seem the excitable sort." The gentleman says, chuckling while Casper waves a kite, already wanting to take it outside for a test flight.

"Yeah, they're... something. Anyway, we’re just passing through; is there anywhere we could stay the night on the road down the way?" He considers and then stretches out one long arm, snagging a map in another little bin beside the pamphlets.

"I think there's a spot not too far if you press onward." He looks over the map and then back up at me. “Nothing fancy, but it’s a warm bed and a meal for the night. What brings you round these parts anyhow?”

Behind him, the holo screen showing the news flashes a bulletin in red. “BOND CLAN UNDER ATTACK, THEFT AND FUGITIVES ON THE RUN”- My heart drops. Will they show our pictures next?

"We wanted to see something different than our districts. Anyway, thanks a lot for the phone call. Come on, guys." Bash catches my alarm, and we’re both on the move, Toren behind us. "But my kite! I was going to."

"Another time." I tug on Caspian’s sleeve, ignoring his pout. Still sulking, he follows me out and to the bikes.

"There's a place we can stay, and then we need to talk," I muttered to the group while we climbed onto the bikes. The others nod, and we get ready to go, except for Casper, who's trying to sneak back into the kite shop.

"Casper!"

 ***

We skip over the place the shopkeeper suggested and drive until night falls again. I’m nearly falling off my bike, but we rented a room with no holoscreens.

 "I don't even know if we should be stopping. Wherever Tula wants us to go will probably be ten times safer and have a spot for the bikes..." Bash frowns out the window, leaning against the glass while Casper lets Kova curl up in his lap for an impromptu fox cuddle.

 "I know. But we need to review the clues Tula was dropping, make sure it makes sense." I considered the pamphlet I scribbled the code words onto while Toren peers over my shoulder.

"None of it makes sense. Playhouse? Six? Trees? You’ve just put random words here.” He scowls at the paper and whistles for Mace to come over. 

"Can't believe I'm saying this, but the district darling might have a point. What does any of that mean?" Bash pushes off the wall, grabs a chair, and sinks into it, propping his feet on the bed.

“It’s not supposed to make sense. At least not for you guys.” I tap my lips with the pen. “When I was younger, my family worked out safe words in case of danger.”

“A sound practice.” Toren comments. “My own family did something similar.”

Bash snorts, toeing his boots off. “Why, who’d want to take you?”

“The same people who gave you back.” Toren retorts.

“What she meant-” I cut in before they could continue, “was the emergency shelter we could use in case of a bad storm or clan gang wars. Each shelter has a designated number based on a fact about the place.”

"Isn't Clan of Aurora number six on the spots most desirable to get away to?" Of course, Toren would know that. Casper groans, loud enough to startle the snoozing little fox tucked against him.

"Toren, random facts of the day don't impress mag chicks like our Zara here. I apologize for him." He sighs, glaring woefully at his friend, and gets a pillow to the face.

"He's right. It is number six. My Tula used to tell us stories about it all the time.”  I look at my paper again. Playhouse was a codeword for the location, the hours referring to the number of the safe house. She mentioned the trees overhead, too-

“We have to go to the sixth safe house,” I announce and glance at Toren. “Near Clan of Aurora.”

"You know this how exactly?" Toren asks, dubious.

"She's a nerd," Is Bash's helpful reply.

"Like you, Finch! See, you guys have so much in common!" Casper adds, beaming and holding his hand out for a high-five. Bash obliges.

“Anyway,” I kick Bash’s feet off the bed. “There’s a safe house there, in Sol Foret. It’s the only primary forest near the Clan of Aurora, with many canopies overhead. Just a way of making sure I knew what she was talking about.”

"And if you're wrong?" Toren asks. Casper nudges him but doesn't scold him. Even Bash watches, waiting for my answer.

"We call her again." Toren opens his mouth to argue, but Bash is already rising.

"Good, then we've got a plan. We'll get up early tomorrow and make our way to Sol Foret.  In the meantime, we need food and sleep. Zara, you’re with me.”  His rapid-fire and no-nonsense tone doesn't give room for questioning.

"Any requests?" I joke. Casper mumbles something about donuts, still cooing at my pet. Toren fishes a wad of money out of his wallet and hands it to me.

"Some proper writing paper?" It's an odd request, and he sees the question on my face. There's a pause. He hesitates in indecision and presses on, his voice brisk.

"I promised my sister I would send word so she wouldn't worry. I won't give away our location. I can send it through the post before we leave tomorrow, so no one is the wiser. She, um, she's expecting it." He explains, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Zara? You coming or what?" Bash is grabbing his bag, ready to move ahead and probably starving. That egg and bread seem like years ago.

" I told her I would write, I promised." He repeats. I remember what I saw back at Bond Clan. The tiny infant face, looking up at me and so trusting. So small.

"Zee, we're burning daylight here." Bash calls from the doorway.

I take the money.

"I'll see if they have any kits, but I'll get some envelopes along with the paper if they don't. Okay?" He nods, letting out a quiet breath. I turn, and his fingertips catch my sleeve, just for a second.

"Thank you." He murmurs. My cheeks burn, and I look away quickly, striding for the door.

"You're welcome. We'll be back soon; don't go by the windows." It's easier to give orders and stick to the practices that Tula drilled into Bash and I. Casper waves as the door closes behind me.

***

As Bash suggests, we all turn in early, but I can't sleep. The guys share one bed while Bash sleeps on my other side; I think Casper is snoring.  There’s a steady snapping sound alongside it.

"Are you usually a night owl?" My tossing and turning are interrupted by Toren's voice. When my heart settles back into a normal rhythm, I glare in his general direction until my eyes have adjusted to the dark. He's sitting up in bed, fingers drumming and snapping on his knee, and the other petting Mace restlessly.

“I hope my noise isn’t keeping you up?”

I rub my eyes. “No… why are you snapping?”

His hand stills. “My apologies. It helps steady me when my heart is racing, a self-soothing mechanism.”

"Oh. Well, in answer to your question, I guess you could say I’m a night owl. Why does morning even exist?"

A full smile is so rare that seeing its curve in the dark is nice. "Some of us do our best thinking in the quiet." Mace gets irritated with the obsessive rub down and jumps down, going to curl up and sulk in the corner.

“I would have pegged you as a morning person.” I kick off the covers. He seems in a mood to talk. Something about the shadows softens his edges, and he lets his head lean back on the headboard.

“Not willingly. But I have a schedule. It's the best way to be efficient.” He sighs. “Time management allows us to make the most of our day."

“You sound like you’re reading off a teleprompter. Did you practice that in a mirror, too?” I joke.

He winces. “No. My father's influence." A sudden mumble from Casper holds us both prisoners. When the silence presses in again, he shifts.

“I’m keeping you awake. We ought to-”

“Why do you call your sister Tiny?” I interrupt. The memories gleaned from Roma’s experiment still linger in my mind’s eye. I’m not willing to give up this softer Toren just yet. 

“The scan- it showed you?” His voice is more guarded, a warning to tread lightly.

“Yeah. I was wondering- I wanted to know why you called your sister that." It seems stupid now. I'm cringing and trying to figure out a way to dive under the covers casually and fake sleep-

"She was born too soon." He confesses to the dark. “A moniker made the possibility of her living seem more permanent. We weren’t sure how long that would remain the case.” There’s a soft tap-tapping, his anxiety trying to release itself through his fingers.

“She’s okay now, though, right? She’s here with you and your family.” I remind him. The tapping slows briefly.

“Yes, she is... I feel as though I’ll wake our companions. Perhaps you should sit beside me so we don’t disturb them.” He suggests. It’s a solid point and no big deal.

My heart speeds up a little anyway. I go to bed and sink into the mattress beside him.

“Are you cold?” He whispers, offering a corner of the duvet wrapped around him. “We can share.”

“Sure, it won’t offend your proper district sensibilities?” I whisper back. He rolls his eyes and pretends to take back the blanket.

“Tell me about her.” I tug it back, snuggling into the quilt. He thinks for a moment.

 "Mother was sick the entire pregnancy. My father fussed over her in a way I'd never known he could. Made certain she rested each day, hired extra help, and even tried to carry her everywhere. And then Adriana came two months early, and there was a lot of whispering, and nobody would tell me anything for a while..." He sighs, a hand dragging through his hair.

"And then you finally got to meet her?" I prompt him when his silence goes on for too long.

"Yeah. And Adriana was probably the smallest thing I'd ever seen. She was.. well."

"Tiny?" I finish for him. He chuckles.

"Yeah, exactly." We're both left smiling. “You know, she’s one of the funniest people I know. She's often left my sides aching from laughing. And she's brilliant. She's already begun to design apps and improve upon current ones. My mother has had to ban her from specific devices because she keeps overwriting their codes and reprogramming them,” he brags.

“So, you’ve got a sibling smart enough to pin things on?” I ask. He shrugs.

“There’s a thirteen-year difference between us. My role is more that of a protector.” He grins. “So, we make Casper the scapegoat.” We look back at his sleeping friend together, and I poke him just because I can. We giggle like children when his face scrunches and he mumbles about killer melons.

“She's a good kid and makes friends far more easily than I do.” He goes on. “Anybody who's ever met her loves her after talking to her for five minutes.”

 He shakes his head and fingers the pendant beneath his shirt lightly.

“You must be proud of her,” I comment, remembering the awe his memory showed me of meeting Adriana for the first time.

He smiles at his hands and then up at me. “My sister has this refreshing viewpoint of the world. She's innocent but not naive. She's independent, and she comes to me for everything. The child is a mess of odds and ends that somehow fit together." He sighs into the duvet, still holding his Gin Dori.

I crane my neck to see better the chain it hangs on. It’s not sleek and straightforward or even a pin like I would expect Toren to wear. Instead, it’s thicker, maybe the width of my pinky, and a vintage copper instead of the usual grays and silvers Toren favors.

“Did she make this?” He lets me touch it, my fingers brushing over the copper surface lovingly polished and tended to.

"Yeah. Last year.” He explains, chest puffing out a bit. His pendant is warm, like mine. My fingers trace over the edges of the gears; I let them drag on the chain. One side is more extended than the other, but it's equally apparent he never takes the thing off.

"She sounds like a great kid," I comment. That gets another bright smile out of him.

"She is. I expect the two of you would get on famously." He murmurs.

"It'd be fun to meet her. Though that's not likely if we end up in jail for stealing these files, I guess." He nods, smiling ruefully.

"Supposing we don't end up locked away or charged with a misdemeanor… perhaps a meeting could be arranged? I'm sure Casper has already invited the two of you to Dominion." He knows his friend well.

“That would be fun. I always thought it would be fun to have a sister or a brother." I look over at Bash, out cold and sleeping like a log. "Bash and I are inseparable, but it's not the same thing, you know?" Toren nods, trying to hide a yawn. It prompts me to return to my space beside Bash's prone form.

"I should probably let you sleep. Night." He watches me climb under the covers and does the same.

"I was up anyway. I'm glad it wasn't on my own." His finger isn't tapping anymore. His hands have stilled completely.

"I'm glad I could help." My eyes are heavy, and my body is already easing into the soft hug of the mattress. I think he says goodnight, and just before I check out for the night, I realize what he suggested. I fall asleep, smiling, dreaming of playing with Adriana and his mother's slim arms embracing me.

***

It's early the next afternoon, grubby and exhausted, that I think I see the trees' tops. The road beneath us gives way to a sandier surface, the temperature rising as we push on. Bash pulls up the map; we've reached Sol Foret within a few twists and turns.

"Okay. We reached the first stop. Now, where's the house?" He asks, passing me a near-empty water bottle.

"We have to find the clearing first." We get off our bikes, cut the engines, and push them along as we walk. Toren lets Mace run ahead, Kova trotting behind her friend.

"Could you hide in a clearing?" Casper asks, lifting a branch out of the way for me. The brush-covered forest floor beneath our feet softens the sound of our footsteps. Our clothes snag on thorns, the canopy towers above our heads, the breeze rustling through a new sunshine patch, and the leaves sparkle to the naked eye.

"If anybody could, it would be Tula," I promise. Toren's looking around us, studying the tree bark and collecting leaves occasionally.

"What are you doing?" I ask him when he reaches past me to snag one in many colors.

"Maybe he's building a nest." Bash snipes. I roll my eyes and continue walking.

"I'm collecting samples. You'll notice the canopy above us seems to be interlocking in multiple places; to mimic this in technology could prove to be useful-"

"I see a clearing ahead!" Casper calls out. Mace is already waiting and licks Toren's hand when we finally get to the small spot void of trees. On all sides is sunshine; it reflects off the little brook bubbling at us nearby and warms the sand beneath our toes. A soft gust of wind blows my ponytail into my mouth, and I'm spitting hair strands out when Bash walks into a wall.