“Not really,” he said, his face lit by the yellow glow of the lantern. “But I’m just replacing the stone. I’d need a blacksmith for anything else.”
After a few minutes, he withdrew the energy stone. It looked as if he was removing the Gray’s heart. He placed it carefully inside his tool kit and then withdrew from the kit another energy stone. Even at rest, this one glowed dimly.
“Where’d you get that?” Most people could afford only one energy stone a month and didn’t have spares lying around. But with Avan’s connections, it didn’t surprise me.
“Ripped it out of my energy box.”
I jumped up. “What? Why? You’ll need that in the winter.”
Winter here lasted a month, but without the Sun, the temperature could plummet to a wicked cold overnight.
“I appreciate the indignation, but it’s not a big deal. I have the room at the shop.”
“You hate it there.” He’d never said as much, but his every action had made it obvious.
He shrugged. Neither of us voiced what we both must’ve been thinking—that it wouldn’t matter anyway. If we left Ninurta, it wasn’t likely either of us would be coming back.
He reconnected screws and bits of metal, and closed the panel. “All set.”
He put the tool kit inside his place and shut the door. He didn’t lock it. I wanted to tell him he should. It was his home. Why would he give it up, for me of all people?
We were friends, but we weren’t . . . I hardly knew anything about his personal life other than what I’d heard, and I didn’t ask for the same reason I’d never asked Reev about his past—I was afraid to push too far and lose him.
“You should stay,” I said. “Show me how to use the Gray.”
He didn’t even respond, just pulled himself into the saddle and tilted his head at me, waiting.
“Avan,” I said. “Your mom needs you. Your dad . . .” Avan and his dad had a rough relationship, one I didn’t pretend to know about. But, in spite of that, he still took care of his dad and the shop. “He needs you, too.”
Everything warm and comforting about him drained from his face, leaving behind a cool blankness. “You don’t know anything about what he needs.”
If he had shown sadness, I might have been shamed into silence. Instead, I was angry. I knew talking about his family was taboo, but I wouldn’t be intimidated into shutting up. This was about more than just him or me.
“I know that your family needs you. You should stay with them.”
It was too dark to see his eyes clearly, but I felt their intensity. Now that I had given voice to my objection, I couldn’t back down until he said something.
When the tension grew too thick for the space between us, he said, “I know.”
“Show me how to use the Gray.”
“You remember that time you kicked my dad?”
I frowned, caught off guard. Avan never talked about his dad by choice. “Um. Yeah. You wouldn’t talk to me for weeks after.”
His chin dipped, and he looked down at me. “I never got around to thanking you.”
“I thought you were pissed at me.”
“I was,” he said, shifting uneasily in the saddle. He dragged a hand through his hair. “Because you did what I never could.”
“Kick him?”
Avan released a quiet breath, half laugh and half sigh. “Stand up to him. You’ve always done the right thing. You and Reev. I can’t let you go out there alone.”
“You don’t need to—”
“You’re not going to change my mind. You can keep talking if you really want, but we’re wasting time. We’ve got a long way.” He touched the seat behind him.
I ground the heel of my boot slowly into the dirt. I considered arguing further, but I didn’t know if it would be for my pride or his safety. Back straight and muscles taut, I took his hand and mounted the Gray.
This time when he started it, I watched more closely. The creature’s chest lit up, much brighter than before, and I scooted closer to Avan. I thought I felt his breath catch, but it was hard to tell.
We rode through the freight yard. The heat from the energy stone warmed the metal, but it wasn’t as hot as Avan pressed against the entire front half of my body. Any remaining frustration I felt toward him vanished as we continued through the city. We were really doing this.
The nearest gate was several miles north. We had to get to the main road, which would lead directly to the exit. I clenched my sweaty palms against Avan’s stomach.
We cut through alleys, people darting out of the way and shouting curses as we squeezed through. Even though we were only going at a canter, the buildings passed in a colorless blur. At the main road, I pressed my cheek against Avan’s back as we joined the busier traffic. On the other side, two sleek, single-rider scouts in the shape of large cats sped past. They were headed for the White Court.
Avan turned just enough for his voice to reach me over the beat of metal hooves. “Ready?”
No. “Yeah,” I breathed.
The gate came into view, the familiar sight of the Ninurtan banner—a red sword crossed with a silver scythe—draped above the opening. The massive metal door remained closed between midnight and four in the morning, when all Grays were prohibited from entering or leaving except for city business. During operating hours, the gate was open. I couldn’t think of anyone in recent history who’d forcibly tried to leave Ninurta. The security was mainly there to keep out the gargoyles, not to keep anyone contained. Only two bored-looking Watchmen were checking each waiting scout to ensure it was approved to leave.
All we had to do was catch them by surprise and push through. The Watchmen wouldn’t pursue us into the Outlands.
It sounded so easy, but the physical act of leaving had never been the hard part. Accepting what it meant to pass through the gate and let everything here go—that knowledge stuck like a hook in my throat, dragging me back toward the city, my job, the Labyrinth, everything I’d ever known. But Reev wouldn’t be there waiting for me. None of those things meant anything without Reev, who had given me the sense of safety that Ninurta’s walls couldn’t.
The Gray shifted beneath me as Avan increased our speed.
“You know what you’re doing?” I shouted over the wind. Probably should have asked sooner.
Avan didn’t answer, but I imagined his self-confident smile.
The Watchman on the left waved the scout at the front of the line forward. Both guards stepped aside to give it room.
A jerk of our Gray to the right. A burst of speed. My stomach dropped.
The Watchmen didn’t expect us. They shouted, diving out of the way, hands slapping for the metal grate. Too late. We blew through the gate into the barren darkness of the Outlands.
We’d done it. We were fugitives of Ninurta.
CHAPTER 10
IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE to see beyond the flat, dry earth illuminated by the energy stone. Avan checked the map every once in a while to make sure we hadn’t gone off course, but we could have been anywhere and nowhere. So far, there was no sign of gargoyles, but anything could be lurking beyond the wall of darkness. It was like riding through empty space, only the sound of metal hooves striking dirt and the wind tugging at my clothes to remind me we were moving at all.
With nothing to focus on but the red glow of the Gray’s chest and the windblown smell of Avan’s shirt, I slept in intervals. Lucidity was never far out of reach, though. Falling off the saddle and breaking my neck wouldn’t help Reev.
Being this close to Avan was a practice in contradictions. His body heat and the solid comfort of his back soothed me. I could relax against him and feel secure enough to sleep, even if only lightly. It was almost like being with Reev.