A bitter taste fills my mouth and my stomach lurches as realization fills me. Pace has betrayed us. It is the only logical answer that comes to mind, yet I do not want to believe it. But what else could it be?
His eyes dart to Findley, then to me once more as he comes down the steps. I hear the beat of my heart and the sharp intake of my breath as he leans close and whispers into my ear.
“Things are not always what they seem.”
Thank God. It is as if he has read my mind and, as he always does, he offers me comfort. But these are also the same words he said the day we met, when he chased me after Alex died. Before I can blink Pace moves on, catching up to Jilly and placing his hand in the small of her back as if he’s afraid she will fall. Jilly steals a look my way and gives me a quick shake of her head and mouths “No.”
What is going on?
I grab on to the rail and look over at them. I want to follow. I need to talk to Pace. Jilly too. I open my mouth to call after them, and Findley once more takes my arm, gently this time. He shakes his head also and inclines it to the top of the stairs.
I have questions. Hundreds of them. And my answers are walking down and away from me. Laughing and chatting as if nothing has happened while my entire world caves inward upon me. My feet drag as Findley urges me up the stairs.
I must find out what it all means. I falter on the stairs, trip, and pitch forward. It is a ploy to catch Findley off guard and it works. He bends to help me up and I kick backward at his knee. I have the satisfaction of hearing him grunt in pain as I connect, and I turn to dash down the steps.
Findley is behind me and Pace is in front of me. I can still hear their voices, their casual and quiet laughter. Before I catch the handrail to make the turn, Findley grabs the collar of my jacket and pulls me back against him. I strike out at him, kicking and flailing, and he wraps his arms around me, places a hand over my mouth, and traps me soundly against his chest. He is immovable, his arms like iron bands and his body as solid as a tree trunk. I cannot escape him, and I finally stop fighting him and relax within his hold.
“Ellen is his mother,” he says in my ear. “It won’t help to catch him because she will give you away.” He takes his hand from my mouth.
“What? Who? What are you talking about?”
“The woman. Ellen. She is Pace’s mother.” He turns me around to face him. He keeps his hands on my upper arms and bends so he is looking me in the eye. “She hates you. You will get no help there.”
“You are lying,” I say.
Findley smiles at me. It is not condescending or malicious, and I realize that he, like me, has his own agenda. As to whether our agendas mesh is something I am not yet certain of. “Am I?” he asks.
I look down the quiet staircase as if I can see the trio that is now gone. An image of Ellen comes to me, of her blue eyes and her mouth, always set in a frown when she sees me. The only time I have seen her smile is when she walked into my father’s office the day I was taken to see him. She is Pace’s mother. I know it now, as surely as I breathe. Findley is telling the truth.
Suddenly her contempt for me makes complete sense. Because of me, Pace got into trouble. Because of me, she was taken prisoner. But if she is a prisoner, why is she free to come and go as she pleases? And it is obvious that Pace is not a prisoner either. It seems, by his uniform, that Pace is in good standing with my father. Does Jilly have anything to do with this?
Findley just shakes his head. I will get nothing more from him today. “Back to your room,” he says and urges me back up the staircase.
“You could let me go,” I suggest as I start up once more.
“I could,” he agrees. “But you have no place to go.”
These words frighten me more than anything that I have seen or heard so far today. I take the next set of stairs in silence, my mind spinning as I try to figure out everything that’s happened this busy day.
My world is suddenly not what I thought, and it frightens me to the core. My feet drag on the steps as we continue upward until we enter the hall that holds my room. I don’t want to go inside. I don’t want to be locked away from the world again. I turn to Findley, who narrows his eyes at me.
“If I stay locked up in here much longer I’ll go insane,” I say.
Findley herds me through the door and blocks it with his frame as he fold his arms and looks at me. “I could move you to a cell down below,” he says, and I actually see his mouth quirk into a smile. I know he’s teasing me, so I test him further.
“Why don’t you just forget to lock the door?” I suggest.
“Isn’t running about without a plan what got you into this trouble in the first place?” he asks. “Don’t forget to eat,” he adds, pointing to my tray of food that sits on the table. Findley closes the door behind him as he steps out without another word, and I hear the key rattle in the lock behind him. I go to check the door.
It is locked, as I knew it would be. Silly me, always holding out for that elusive moment of hope. I know it is foolish of me, but I just can’t give up. Not now. Not when we’ve come so far.
The irony that my estimation of far is a full circle does not escape me. I am back where I started, once more a prisoner in the dome and at the whim of those who make the decisions for everyone.
I look out the narrow opening in the window and try not to think about Pace. I wish I could see the hole in the dome from here. I wish I could see the sky. Even without the thick haze that covers everything I would not be able to see it. It is to the left of my location and slightly behind, I think. Closer to the library and the buildings with the orchards on top.
Do the trees feel the difference now? Do they stretch their branches to the sun in gratitude, and do their leaves flutter in the wind? I can’t help but think about Max, the dome washer who was always so kind to me, even though I was a trespasser. What would Max say about the hole in the glass? I imagine he would be a lot like me and want to go out.
There are so many people inside the dome that don’t have a voice. The decisions that affect their lives are made for them. It’s time they all have a vote. A choice in where they will live and what they want to do. It is time they get to decide for themselves. If every faction in the dome were to rise up, just as the shiners did, then perhaps my father would realize that his way of life is done.
What if the price is too high? We shiners were nearly wiped out. And the scarabs too, as far as I can tell. My father would think nothing of taking more lives. He would bring the fire inside, if that would preserve his way of life.
What about the royals? Do they all believe as he does? Jilly didn’t. Surely there are others like her, other seekers. If only there were some way to find out. Some way to bring all the dissidents in the dome together.
Like Jilly and Pace were together.
Things are not always what they seem …
Findley was right. My dashing about without a plan was what got all of us into trouble in the first place. For once I need to think things through and consider all the options and the consequences of my decisions.
I turn from the window and sit down at the table to eat my meal. I pick up the ham and cheese sandwich without much appetite. To my surprise, there is a piece of paper between the ham and the cheese. I pull it from my mouth and find a note.
They got out
Who got out? Lyon and James? David and Lucy? Harry? All of them? Some of them? At least I know who didn’t get out, not that that helps.
Who sent the note? Surely not Ellen, yet she is the only one I know of who comes in and out of my room.