Alexis

I’ve been nervously gnawing at my lower lip since we left the Eye. Not even Aiden’s face of wonder when we step out into the city of Niamh is enough to shake me from my thoughts. My mind is a muddled mess, a sticky syrup of anxiety.

“Hey,” he says softly, stopping us on the road we’re on. The guards up ahead that we are supposed to be following keep going without us. The distance growing with every stride makes me feel a tiny bit clearer in my head. “She didn’t say no, just that she needs to think.”

“For how long?” I sigh. “If you aren’t enough to change her mind then nothing will be.”

I know Aiden is trying his best to console me, and I should be doing my best to console him. But I am far too anxious to say anything I would believe. I don’t have time to process everything I’ve seen to get to this point. I only know that I need this to work. They’re our only hope.

If we have an army, maybe Aiden will be spared from his fate. Maybe we won’t need another sacrifice. Maybe… he can live.

It’s all I can think about.

He knows there’s something else, something brewing deep within me. I can see it in the narrow of his eyes, the twitch of his lips. But I can’t have this conversation, not now. Not when my heart is made of tightly-wound rubber bands and the jagged edges of broken glass.

So I fall, instead, to silence.

“I’m sure this makes you feel right at home,” one of the guard mutters with a look, turning the key in the ignition after we climb into a nearby pod.

“Wrong clutch,” I smirk when the guard shifts gears, just to piss him off more. He scowls and adjusts the gear, earning an eyeroll from the woman beside him.

“This place is beautiful,” Aiden says, probably to de-escalate whatever tension has been thickening the air. “How do the enchantments work?”

“We don’t owe you any explanations, foreigner,” the guard behind the wheel practically spits.

“You can dislike me, but leave him out of it,” I snap. “He’s done nothing wrong.”

“Nothing wrong? All of you Allonians are the same,” he scowls. “Blood-thirsty machines.”

“We hate the Council as much as you do,” Aiden says through a frown. “We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t.”

“Unless you’re a spy,” he says. The female guard shoots him a look.

“Enough,” she says. “You do what you are told, and you do so quietly. That is our job, whether we like it or not.”

“But why would Renee let two Alloy soldiers into our home?”

The woman ignores him, turning to face the outside of the pod–the forest in the distance, getting further.

“Concealments,” she says, to answer Aiden’s question. “Our secrecy has kept us alive.”

Aiden knows better than most what that’s like. I can see it in his eyes, the drop of his head.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

They take us to the Apostasy living quarters, where all the other soldiers live. Perhaps more to help Renee sleep more peacefully at night knowing we’ll be kept under watchful eye than anything else. I, however, feel like I’ve stepped into a pool of piranhas the second we enter the military dorms.

Every single soldier in the lobby stops to size us up. Our runes, our scars, marks of what separates us.

“What a warm welcome,” Aiden whispers to me.

“Just like home, right?” I joke, remembering my first day as an Alloy soldier. The stares and whispers.

“Here are your rooms,” the woman says at the end of the hall on the second floor. “Canteen is downstairs, lights out at midnight, training starts bright and early. Until Renee makes a decision, you’ll be with us. So follow the rules if you don’t want to be sleeping on the streets.”

“We’ll be training together?” I ask.

“If we’re going to be working together, you could learn a thing or two about subtlety, and how to work well with others. And what better way to keep a close eye on you?” she says dryly before spinning on her heel and marching back the way she came, leaving the two of us alone in a narrow hallway.

I can tell that Aiden is trying to keep himself together, for my sake. And, in some way, I am doing the same for him. I wonder if I am just as obvious. Just as crazed in the eyes, anxious in my fingers and lips. I look away, just to be certain he cannot see right through me.

I am busy trying to convince myself that it will be good for us to stay in separate rooms to get some rest when Aiden clears his throat. My eyes stay averted. Truth be told, I cannot stomach the thought of being apart from him for more than a few minutes, not now.

I almost lost him for good. And if I think about that too closely...

“I don’t think I want to go to bed just yet,” Aiden says. He is trying to bury the waver in his voice with a smile, I see it when I finally get the courage to face him again.

Relief. That must be what he sees in my eyes, staring back at him. Neither of us wants to be alone just yet.

So I swallow a shaky breath. “Want to go for a walk?”

“Yes.”

For a hot day, the night it brings is a chilly one, and my knuckles turn red with the cold.

With no escort this time, we are free to roam where we please. The moon above us is bright and white-cast. It paves a road for us, beyond the city. In silence we walk through the thrush of forest. Somewhere along the dirt road, Aiden’s hand finds mine. His fingers are rough and dry and warm.

There are so many words I want to say–need to say. But the only thing that comes out of my mouth is, “That sunburn looks like it hurts.” Aiden’s previous contemplative silence cracks with a short chuckle.

“It does,” he reassures me. “I would do pretty much anything for some aloe right about now. And, before you ask, I already tried to undo some of the damage. I think I’m only decent at fixing things that aren’t myself. Haven’t quite mastered the self-preservation thing yet.”

It already starts to feel more normal listening to him talk. His voice is a sweet melody that cuts through the dense fog in my mind. Even the birds and other creatures in the woods stop to listen.

“Well,” I hum. “I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.”

“I already don’t like where this is going,” he jokes, but the laughter fades from his lips when we step through the flower-cased clearing. In the belly of the meadow is a lake. It is not the first time I have been here.

His hand tightens in my grip, and I squeeze back as comfort.

“You’re right,” he mutters. “This is a pretty shit idea.”

“It’s shallow,” I say. “But we don’t have to-”

“No,” he interrupts, attempting to sound much more stoic than he does. “My fear does not define me.”

The moonlight dances along the surface of it, shining through the clearing like melted silver. Petals drift through the carry of water, tossing soft ripples to the shores. If only he could see what I see.

But maybe he can.

I am quick to kick off my shoes and socks, rolling up the ankles of my pants to step through the mud, into ice-cold water. A shock rolls up my spine, waking me from my own thoughts. It’s just what I needed.

I turn back to Aiden, who has mustered the courage to toe along the rocky shore. I don’t think he has noticed yet, but the buds of lilac near him have shifted slightly, opening toward him. I unfurl my hand, reaching for divinity.

“Do you trust me?” I ask. Aiden’s hair is a bright red in the moon-glow, and his fair skin almost effulgent. His beauty is ceaseless. So is his bravery.

“Cheater,” he laughs, nervously. “You know I do. More than anything.” He takes my outstretched palm, fingers lacing with mine.

“Close your eyes,” I tell him. He shoots me a look, but does as he’s told. And then he steps forward, into the cold silver.

Aiden gasps, both with cold and with fright, but I am already tugging him closer. He does not question it when I tug his shirt from over his head, discarding it on the rocks beside us.

I cup a palmful of ice water and let it trickle down his shoulder, and then the other. The noise of surprise he makes turns me soft, softer than ever.

“Does that hurt?” I ask, my hand hovering over the burns.

“No,” he chuckles. This laugh is much more genuine. “It feels nice.”

His eyes flutter open, filled to the brim with warm affection. I am putty in his hands. He must know it.

“You always make me feel much braver than I actually am,” he says.

“Your bravery comes from you alone,” I say. But I understand what he means, because I find myself being braver too, because of him. Because he makes me believe I am capable of far more than I ever was.

***