Gates of Thread and Stone

CHAPTER 18

AFTER HE FINISHED his tea, Irra left us in the courtyard to await the Sun. The courtyard was enclosed on four sides by the dusky walls of the fortress. Moss and vines spotted in blue flowers had taken hold of the stone.

Since the tree blocked our view of the sky, we relocated near a fountain at the back, nestled between overgrown rose bushes. I knew they were roses from the history texts and because, rarely, I’d seen them shipped from their special gardens in the White Court and sold on the street for fifty credits a stem. I imagined sunshine would smell like this.

The fountain itself was a sad thing. Cracks threaded the stone, and water trickled from the top where green moss clogged the spout. It reminded me of the slime that grew on the walls in the Labyrinth. Definitely not something I missed. Weeds had crawled up the sides of the fountain, creeping over the rim to dip into the murky inch of water at the bottom of the basin.

I sat on the fountain’s overgrown rim, watching Avan. He took a seat beside me, his hand lingering on his arm where Irra had almost cut him.

He noticed me watching and dropped his hand. “Irra’s a little off in the head, isn’t he? Maybe that’s what happens when you’re immortal. Living forever must mess with a person’s mind.”

Maybe insanity was the price of eternity. Nature’s way of keeping balance, as Irra had said. I could see this gloomy sort of balance reflected in this entire place: Etu Gahl was a fortress of perpetual deterioration that could expand by pulling whole rooms and floors from who knew where. And this sliver of a courtyard, which Irra kept green and alive despite what I’d seen his rotting touch could do.

Growth and decay.

“It’s all so impossible,” I said.

Faced with truths I never would have imagined, I still had no idea what I was. I had tried so hard to remember, to pull images and thoughts from those years of my life before Reev, questions I had finally forced myself to bury. But those questions rose again to the surface. What did Irra mean when he said I’d been born of the River?

And he’d spoken of Time as if it was a person—which, considering Irra had called himself Famine, maybe it was.

“Yeah, but I’ve seen what you can do. Nothing is impossible after that.”

It was still disarming having other people know about me. For so long, this had been my secret. Mine and Reev’s.

But Reev had other secrets.

“Do you think Irra is being honest with us?” I asked. “He’s pretty quick to offer up help.”

“We’re his guests,” Avan said. “He’s given us food, shelter, and protection. And now he’s going to get us back into Ninurta. We’re not exactly in a position to question his motives.”

“I didn’t realize you were so blindly trusting.”

Avan’s expression darkened, and he regarded me coolly. I didn’t know how he could go from warm to cold so quickly. I’d seen a lot of Avan’s “faces”: the polite but distant shop clerk, the beautiful boy with a smile that could spin fantasies, the friend unwilling to leave me alone in the darkness. And the kid from the Alley who hid behind a cool exterior when anyone tried to peer past his walls.

I didn’t understand why he felt he needed those walls with me. After what we’d been through, I thought our friendship had gotten past this.

Maybe I should have chosen my words more carefully. I thought of those rumors about Avan accepting anyone’s bed to keep from going home. Guilt stung my chest.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said. “You’re right. I should be more grateful. I am grateful.” And I was. I had no illusions about where we’d be now without Irra. “It just worries me that he’s helping us without asking for much in return. Information is great, sure, but is that really it?” In my experience, there was always a catch.

But maybe I was being paranoid. Maybe this was what the Infinite did when they weren’t . . . building human cities to spite one another.

Avan’s fingers plucked at the weeds clinging to the fountain. “I don’t trust him. But we don’t have any other options.”

I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I know.”

He sighed heavily. “Do you think maybe Reev knew about all this?”

I looked at him. “About what? The Infinite?”

He shrugged. “He was a sentinel. He must have escaped for a reason. What if it wasn’t coincidence that he found you?”

“What are you saying? That Reev had something to do with me losing my memory?”

I had told Avan years ago that I couldn’t remember anything from before I was eight. At the time, he said he envied me.

“I’m not saying anything. I’m just . . . thinking out loud.”

“Reev took care of me,” I said. Whatever Reev had kept from me, I’m sure it had been in my best interest. “I trust him completely.”

Avan’s dark eyes locked on mine. “Exactly. I’ve seen the way you look at him, Kai. The way you talk about him.” He dropped his gaze. “You love him so much that it blinds you to his faults. You won’t even consider—”

“I love him in spite of his faults. He’s my brother.”

Avan’s lips curved, but it was a mockery of a smile. “Yeah. Your brother. You don’t even realize it.”

“Realize what?” I demanded.

He ran his fingers through his hair, and the look that darted across his face made something wrench inside me. “He has so much of you already,” he said, the words stilted as if they were being forced from him. “Is there anything left for—” He cut himself off and shook his head. “For anyone else?”

I didn’t understand why he was saying this—of course Reev would always hold a part of me—but the answer seemed to matter to him. So I said, “Yes.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Have you ever asked him about his past?”

Only a few failed attempts about his collar. But I wanted to. I never stopped wanting to. Fear had kept me silent—insecurities and doubts that haunted me over the years despite everything Reev had done. Someone had abandoned me on a riverbank. There was no blood to connect me and Reev, and if I pried into things he wanted kept secret, what if he decided to leave me, too?

Avan didn’t wait for me to answer. “Or about your own past. Why are you so content not knowing?”

“Not every family has to be broken, Avan.”

I regretted the words the moment they were out. My lips tightened, and my hands curled in my lap. Avan remained still, his hair shielding his eyes from me. He began to rise. My fingers latched on to his forearm.

“Please stay,” I said, ducking my head. “I don’t . . . I don’t want to argue with you.”

I held my breath and didn’t release it until he sat again, his face turned away. I scooted closer so that our sides touched. He nudged my shoulder, and I relaxed against him.

I didn’t tell Avan that he had it wrong. I wasn’t content not knowing. I’d never told Reev, but the reason I wanted to be a mail carrier was because it allowed me to explore the North District beyond his restrictions. And because maybe one day I’d find someone who looked like me. Or recognized me. Someone must have taken care of me before I was eight.

Maybe this was the universe’s way of punishing me for wanting to know about my past. Reev had taken me in, cared for me, loved me like his sister, and still I had wanted more. Having Reev should have been enough. Why couldn’t that have been enough?

I tilted my head, resting my cheek against Avan’s shoulder. Right now, the most important thing was rescuing Reev. Everything else could wait.

Closing my eyes, I listened to the wind rustle the branches of the tree. Much nicer than the clang of metal walls. I would miss this place when we left.

“Kai,” Avan said. “Look.”

I felt it first. Spreading across my face. Warmth. Radiant, natural warmth. I raised my eyelids, slowly. There it was.

The Sun. It hurt my eyes, so I squinted at the clouds around it instead. They were yellow—not in the usual stark, chemical way, but vibrant and muted at the same time—and highlighted in gold where beams of light filtered through. Sometimes, the clouds held beauty in their own way.

I closed my eyes, letting the heat and light soak in. The Sun shone on my face for the first time in twelve months, but I couldn’t help thinking that the best part of this moment was being able to share it with Avan.

I leaned against his side and felt his arm circle my shoulders. Even though I knew it wasn’t true, I imagined his warmth like a Sun that shone just for me.