Gates of Thread and Stone

CHAPTER 28

AFTER A FEW wrong turns and several empty hallways, I came to the conclusion that I was lost. I didn’t mind not knowing where I was going. I’d memorized the streets in the Lower Alley by first getting lost and then navigating my way back to familiar ground. I wandered a bit farther and discovered a huge lobby. Everything gleamed, from the silvery filament in the stone tiles to the gold and stained-glass accents in the mural on the ceiling. High-backed chairs with brocade upholstery were lined up all along the walls, a few of them occupied by people reading or sitting quietly as if they were waiting for something, but I couldn’t imagine what that might be.

I crossed the lobby hesitantly. The ceiling rose as tall as the rafters in Etu Gahl, but the metal sconces holding hundreds of glowing candles were a far cry from drafty wooden beams dressed in cobwebs.

A pair of Watchmen stood at the entrance, but the lobby was otherwise unguarded. The Tournament, and much of the Academy, was kept private from the rest of the city. I had read that cadets were allowed to see their families only once a year until graduation, unless the families received special permission to visit.

Beyond the double glass doors, I could see a throng of people outside. The traffic in the White Court was as crowded as in the North District. The Watchmen guarding the doors gave me suspicious looks, but I just waved as if I knew exactly what I was doing and stepped outside. I doubted I’d find Reev out here, but I couldn’t contain the curiosity that guided me forward. I had never seen the White Court from anywhere but the barracks.

As soon as I reached the sidewalk, I was overtaken by the flow of people. A hard shoulder knocked me off the curb. I gasped and clutched a lamppost right as a Gray barreled past, the ensuing gust of wind snapping my hair across my cheeks. I brushed it out of my face and continued down the sidewalk. I didn’t like the crowds in the North District, but at least there I could feel invisible. The differences here confused and fascinated me at the same time.

I pushed forward, keeping closer to the buildings. As I’d seen from the barracks, colorful posters plastered the walls. They promoted an endless supply of goods that I supposedly couldn’t live without: two-headed Grays, highly impractical clothes, and gadgets the purpose for which I had no idea. Only the food looked remotely appealing. On the cobblestone road, riders steered enormous Grays in the shapes of long-extinct animals: creatures with three-foot horns, lumbering feet, spiny backs, or long, slender necks that bobbed as they moved. Their massive chests glowed in two spots, indicating they needed two energy stones. They were passed on either side by sleek, compact Grays or the occasional scout.

Men and women were dressed in vibrant tunics and lovely patterns, billowing sleeves and elaborate collars and bustled dresses and boots made of buckles and leather. But amid the extravagance were some who didn’t look so different from those in the North District—with plain tunics in muted colors.

I wondered what sort of work the people did here. The White Court controlled all Ninurta’s resources, but nobody was allowed into the Production District aside from workers and Watchmen.

A few women walked past with horrifically cinched corsets that made me wince just looking at them. What a strange idea of beauty these people had. Not that their clothing wasn’t beautiful, because even I couldn’t deny that; but it was all so . . . much. Too many trappings and not enough simple, human imperfection.

Of course, Avan came to mind. I was hard-pressed to find any imperfections on him, but there had to be something. Like a weird birthmark he’d hidden beneath his tattoo or . . . something less stupid.

I studied the brocade boots of a woman with a large bustle. My eyes followed the dramatic dip of her corseted waist up to her metal choker and full, smiling lips. It wasn’t until I met her gaze that I noticed she was smiling at me.

I looked away—only to realize other people were smiling at me as well. I slowed, shrinking against the nearest wall. I hadn’t realized how much I stood out.

To be accurate, they smiled at my uniform, then at my face. Someone behind me called out, “Good luck, cadet!”

I nodded awkwardly. I scanned the street ahead and found a path leading away from the busy sidewalk, down to what looked like a food market. Smells both savory and sweet drifted from the smoky stalls.

I followed the scents, bouncing on my toes and peering over shoulders to get a look.

The offerings looked nothing like what had been on my tray this morning. My mouth watered just watching one of the stall owners ladle a thick soup into a bread bowl.

At the next stall, a woman basted an actual strip of meat on a fryer. I’d tasted meat only once, and it hadn’t been that impressive. This sizzling meat smelled wonderful, but I didn’t know that I’d try it again even if Rennard was the one to prepare it. The texture was too unusual.

All of Ninurta’s crops and livestock were locked away in the Production District. I didn’t think even Kahl Ninu ate meat on a regular basis.

One young chef caught my eye and began waving. I glanced around. When no one else reacted, I looked back to find him motioning me to come closer. I approached cautiously.

“Cadet,” the man said. He grasped my hand before I could pull away and shook it vigorously. Flour dusted my fingers. Then he selected a plump roll of bread from his warming plate and shoved it at me. “Good luck in the Tournament. I’ll look for your face when the victors are announced.”

My eyes flicked from the roll heating my palm to the man beaming at me like I’d already won. “I-I can’t take this.” I tried giving back the bread, but he batted it away. “And what makes you think I’ll win?”

“You have that wildly determined look,” he said. He peered far too closely into my face. “I’d wager lower North District, possibly even the East Quarter.” He nodded decisively. “Joining the Academy to better your station was a good decision.”

What did I say to that? I wasn’t ashamed of living in the Labyrinth. I extracted myself as politely as I could, thanking him for the bread. Everywhere I stopped, people waved and tried to offer me free food. This wasn’t at all what I’d expected.

Everyone, save for a harried-looking few, seemed to be in good spirits. I suppose not having to worry about their next meal or their credit balance meant they could focus on things that seemed frivolous to me. It looked like a nice way to live, but it didn’t feel real. They had no idea that Ninu kept them as effectively leashed as he did the rest of us.

I didn’t want to see any more. I didn’t want to like these people. I had to get Reev out of here, back to what was real, even if that reality wasn’t as bright and happy as this one.

I had to get him home. Wherever that was. Once we left Ninurta, we’d figure it out.