Ruby made up her mind. After she found Roman, she was going to figure out what the hell it was that Juliette was hiding from them.
25
So far, Sparks thought being free was highly overrated.
He had chosen the first building that looked stable and taken shelter. Inside it was cold, damp and it smelt like mould, but at least it was empty. No sign of any vagrants. Not even rats appeared to want to live here. Sparks couldn’t blame them.
Climbing the eighth flight of creaky stairs, he wondered why the Ancients had built places this big. What did they fill them with? Surely there hadn’t been that many people back then. Spark concluded that if the Ancients had even existed, they were all idiots.
After the twelfth flight, he reached the top story. The roof leaked in several places, large puddles forming on the floor, and Sparks wished he had stolen Roman’s coat. He checked each room for signs of life, finding nothing but a rickety chair with a tattered blanket lying over it. He took the blanket and wrapped it around himself.
A window looked down on the city. From it, Sparks watched over the broken city. He could see streetlights in the distance, but everywhere nearby was shrouded in darkness. He could only just see the towers of the four Ministries. Scowling at them, he recalled when he had been taken to the Ministry of Security. When they had tied him down and tattooed his skin.
I’m finally free of them, he thought, rubbing his neck, they don’t own me anymore. No one does.
The thought did nothing to cheer him up. More than anything, it scared him.
Moving to a dry corner of the room, he lay down, trying to find a comfortable position. No luck with that. He checked his wounds — thanks to the rain they were all clean. The slice in his arm was already scabbed over; being activated really did wonders for healing. But he couldn’t stay activated all night or he wouldn’t get any sleep. He took one of his defoxican needles and pushed the tip of the needle into his thigh and injected himself.
Three heartbeats later his light faded, sending the room into total darkness.
As he tried to calm down enough to sleep, his leg kept twitching. It was odd to not have the familiar cold grip of manacles around his ankle while he slept. I guess I’ll have to get used to sleeping without it.
I’ll have to get used to a lot of things.
What was he going to do tomorrow? He rolled onto his side, then back again, too anxious to stay still. He would need food, and water, and a way to hide his tattoo. Then what? He only had one activation needle left. He needed more, but didn’t even know where people bought the needles from.
A roar of thunder rumbled through the building and he shivered, no longer having his second heart beating to keep him warm. Maybe his priority should be to find a proper blanket and a dry place to sleep. Somewhere in the outskirts, as far away from the Ministries as possible.
All the choices terrified him. He knew how to fight, not how to get food or choose good shelter. He’d never had to worry about that before. I’ll figure it out, he told himself. I’m the best fighter in this city. And once I have everything I need, I’ll prove I’m the best fighter. I’ll…
Who was he going to fight?
He could never be a pit fighter again. Not without an owner. Sparks wondered whether he had made a mistake by going rogue. Pit fighting was what he lived for. It was the only thing he was the best at. Without it, what made him special? Nothing.
Sleep refused to come. No matter how much he tossed and turned, he couldn’t get comfortable. He lay there for what must have been hours. The only sounds were his own breathing and the constant hammering of rain on the roof. Slowly the rain began to lessen, but Sparks’ mind still refused to stop racing and let him sleep.
He opened his mouth to ask Caleb if he was still awake, then remembered the obvious — Caleb wasn’t here. There was no one to talk to.
Sparks let out a frustrated sigh. This was bullshit. His first night as a free man and he was wasting it in some forsaken tower. He threw the blanket off and climbed to his feet, moving back to the window, a plan beginning to form in his mind.
Candle was the answer to everything. If Sparks joined Candle, then he would have food and shelter, and he wouldn’t have to be alone. He would help Candle overthrow the ministries. The thought of defeating Juliette and every militia in the city made Sparks smile. That was the ultimate fight, wasn’t it? One final battle to bring down everything.
But first, he had to find Candle.
There was no way he could track Candle down by himself. Even Roman hadn’t been able to find him. But maybe Sparks could make Candle find him. If he could just do something spectacular, something to get Candle’s attention.
He looked at the four buildings towering over the rest of the city. Perfect. If Sparks attacked the ministries, Candle would surely hear about it.
His pulse began to race with excitement. Not even Candle had done something as bold as to attack the ministries by himself. If Sparks did this, then there would be no doubt that he was the best fighter in Legacy.
Sparks couldn’t resist a challenge like that.
He crossed the room and picked up Caleb’s satchel. Then he ripped off a long piece of the blanket, wrapping it around his neck like a scarf. That should hide his tattoo in case he passed anyone on the street. His boots would be enough to hide the tattoo on his ankle.
Sparks took the stairs three at the time. Outside, the rain had stopped. He took in a deep breath as he bounced along the footpath, dodging the puddles left in every crack and pothole. The air felt clean, crisp, like the rain had washed away all the cities filth. He suddenly felt good. Damn good.
All I needed was a plan, he thought, my very own plan.
The idea made him smile. He’d never had his own plan before.
An hour into his journey Sparks finally reached an area that still had power, and although the roads were empty Sparks stuck to the shadows, darting between the streetlights. Another hour and he finally saw someone else. Sparks’ heart caught in his throat when he turned a corner and saw the lone figure approach. He tried to walk as casually as he could, moving to the opposite footpath.
What the hell am I nervous about? It’s him that should be afraid of me.
The man didn’t even look at Sparks as he passed. Sparks turned back, looking jealously at the man’s coat, even though it was ragged and torn. He quickly discounted the idea of taking it — not after what happened last time he had stolen.
After the fifth person he passed, Sparks’ nervousness faded. No one had spared him a second glance. From then on he didn’t bother hiding in the shadows.
The four towers of the Ministry drew closer until he had to crane his neck to see the top of them. He grinned, hurrying his pace.
Shouting. Footsteps.
He stopped abruptly, listening. It sounded like a mob of people — like the crowd that came to watch Sparks fight at the Haven. Whoever they were, there were coming his way.
Sparks darted into a thin alleyway. From the safety of the shadows, he peered around the side of the wall, watching the street. The mob’s footsteps grew like a steady pounding of thunder. Sparks couldn’t make out what they were shouting, but it was obvious they were angry.