Lark Ascending (18 page)

“Are you going to tell me what's wrong?” Kris asked quietly, startling me from my thoughts.

“What?”

“You've looked half ready to snap all morning. And somehow I doubt it's my impending capture.”

Though his grin was easy, my heart sank a little nonetheless. I knew how he felt about me, and how he must wish it
was
worry for him causing my disquiet.

“Something happened last night,” I said finally. “With Oren.”

“Oh.” Kris cleared his throat. “Maybe I shouldn't have asked.”

“No—” I could feel my face heating, mostly because Kris's assumption wasn't exactly false. “Eve did something to him.”

Kris's expression changed dramatically, awkwardness replaced by interest. “Did what, exactly?”

I shook my head. “It's hard to explain without giving away something that I can't—that isn't my secret to share.”

“That Oren's one of those monsters?” Kris asked blandly.

I stopped dead, heart pounding. It took Kris a few moments to realize that I was no longer moving, and then he stopped and turned.

“Lark, I'm not an idiot. I've got the most experience of any of the architects when it comes to beyond the Wall, and I know what the shadows are. Oren's not a Renewable. You met him in the wilderness. You keep him close at all times. I know what he is.”

I stared at him, my heart still in my throat. “And you haven't told anyone?”

“Why would I?” Kris lifted a shoulder. “You're able to keep him under control out there, clearly, or you wouldn't be traveling with him. And here, there's enough magic to keep him human even without you. He's no more dangerous than I am.”

I swallowed. At any time Kris could have exposed Oren's secret, and my brother would not have been as understanding about what his condition meant. Oren would've been gone faster than I could have said
leave him alone
. “Thank you,” I said awkwardly.

Kris just tilted his head a little. “You said Eve did something to him?”

“Cured him,” I whispered. “There's no sign of the shadow anymore.”

“Shadow,” echoed Kris. “That's a poetic name for it.” His brow was furrowed in concentration, and I recognized the architect in him stirring. I knew part of him wanted nothing more than to run back to the Hub, find Oren, and hook him up to as many machines as possible. “You're sure it's completely gone?”

I nodded. “I could always sense it, though of course I didn't know
what
I was sensing until after we'd been traveling together a while. It's gone, he feels just like you now. Or like anyone,” I added.

“Fascinating.” Kris seemed to realize then that we were standing in the middle of the street, and he reached out to nudge me in toward one of the buildings. We were approaching the garrisoned section of the city, and we ducked down an alleyway to stay out of the line of sight from the Institute's gates.

“What you call shadow—it's not really accurate.” Kris spoke earnestly. “Well, unless magic is a sort of light. Basically, what made Oren a monster is not just the lack of magic, but
anti
magic. A void, a vacuum that nature longs to fill. No matter how much magic he's given, the void inside him consumes it and seeks more. It shouldn't be possible for Eve to have done anything to change that.”

“And yet,” I said dryly.

Kris sighed. “I wish I could study him.” He glanced at me, a sheepish expression creeping over his face. “You can take the boy out of the Institute, but you can't take the Institute out of the boy.

“For once I'm with you,” I admitted. “I don't understand it. And I haven't been able to talk to him today. I think he's so shaken he can't deal. He thought he would be like that forever, and suddenly everything's different.”

“And it was Eve who did it.”

I sighed. “As much as I hate to admit it, she helped him. And I can't see any reason for her to have done that except to
help
him. Help me. Maybe all of my confusion about her is just a reaction to the way she feels.”

“Feels?”

“I can feel what the Institute did to her. We're linked somehow.”

Kris opened his mouth to reply, but a faint sound at the edge of my hearing made me lean forward and press my hand against his mouth. He went still, watching me. The sound grew louder, and I tilted my head, trying to tell what direction it was coming from.

A buzzing, whirring, humming knot of shifting, mechanically-twisted magic heading this way.
Pixies.

I pulled my hand away from Kris's mouth and held a finger against my lips. He nodded, and I pulled him down into a crouch against the alley wall. I remembered what Eve had done in the memory we shared, and I reached for that reserve of stolen magic inside myself. I pulled it over Kris and myself, imagining the cold, smooth surface of iron surrounding us, encasing us in a cocoon. The pixies had no eyes, only receptors for magic, sensitive enough to see even non-Renewables. But if I could shield us with the image of iron, maybe they'd pass us by. I couldn't afford to waste my power in a fight, not this far away from my goal.

My fingers were still wrapped around Kris's hand, and though I could have let go, I didn't. He had no power to give me, but the warmth of his touch steadied me, reminded me why I was doing this. I smoothed together the edges of my shield, focusing as I remembered Eve doing in my dream. There were gaps here and there, edges where my concentration failed. I hoped it would be enough.

Kris heard it now too. I felt his eyes swing over toward me, felt his hand grow clammy in mine. If anyone knew what these new, deadly pixies were capable of, it was the man who'd helped design them. I put thoughts of Kris aside and focused on my shield.

The swarm buzzed up the alley, rounding the corner in a rush. For a heart-stopping moment I thought they'd seen through my shield and were zooming straight toward us. But then the leaders of the swarm screamed on by. There were several dozen at least, and the sound of nearly a hundred wings all buzzing in unison was deafening. The wind stirred at my hair as they passed, and I held my breath, eyes watering.

How did Eve do this? Holding onto the shield was like trying to hold water in my hands. The more I tried to adjust, to keep it together, the more it fell apart and slipped through my grasp. Each pixie that buzzed past my face shattered my calm a little more. I blocked it all out, digging my fingers into my own thigh in an attempt to let the sensation ground me.

It seemed to last an eternity—it was Kris's voice that finally shattered the shield. He was shouting my name, and when I opened my eyes I found him inches away, shaking me by the shoulders. His face was white, and for a moment I though one of the pixies had gotten through and was attacking. I stumbled back, bracing my shoulder blades against the wall, staring wildly around for the source of Kris's alarm.

“Stop—Lark, stop! It's over, they're gone!”

I gasped, sucking in the first full breath I'd taken since I'd heard the pixies. I let my body sag, hitting the ground with a thump as my knees gave way. “They didn't see us?”

“No.” Kris was still pale, staring at me with some agitation. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I said, blinking. “Why?”

“You've been crouching there like that for fifteen minutes. You couldn't hear me—I thought you were having some kind of fit.”

I looked up, but I couldn't see enough of the Wall between the buildings to tell where the sun disc was on its track. I took another shaky breath. “I had to block everything out. I'm not used to that kind of magic.”

“What did you do?”

I hesitated. How could I explain that Eve and I had been inside each other's minds? “I was copying something I saw a Renewable do once,” I said slowly. “A sort of shield to hide us from their sensors.”

Kris's eyes lit as his concern started to ebb. “You mean you can use magic to hide from them? We thought their sensors were—” His gaze drifted past me, thoughtful and distant.

“Hey. Kris.” My tone brought his eyes back to my face. “You're on our side now, remember? Us being able to hide from the pixies is a good thing.”

“I know,” said Kris, lips twitching. “But it'd be fun to try to fix that.”

I ran a hand through my hair, getting slowly to my feet. My body felt shaky from all the adrenaline coursing through my system, but I could stand. Despite the effort it had taken, the shield hadn't cost as much magic as I'd thought it would. Eve was efficient, that much was certain. At least, she had been when she was an ordinary Renewable, infiltrating the city.

We were close enough to the barricades now that we snuck inside one of the buildings on its border and crossed that way, prying up the boards covering the windows. The city was split into districts by the undercurrent of hostilities. Most of the city still functioned as normal, patrolled by the Enforcers, but sections of it were controlled—more or less—by the rebels. The section immediately around the Institute, however, was controlled entirely by the architects. Anyone caught inside the barricades without a direct order from an architect would be assumed a rebel and prosecuted as a traitor.

When I asked Kris what had happened to the people living in those sectors, those with more power and influence in the city, he just shrugged.

“They're still here,” he replied, carefully levering the boards back into place over the window we'd snuck through. “But everyone's closely watched. We'll have to stay out of sight.”

But as it turned out, there was no need for stealth. When we emerged from the building again, on the Institute side of the barricades, the streets were empty. No people, no children, not even a lonely carriage driver pedaling back from his last fare. Not even the ruins above Lethe had been this still; there, at least, people in the buildings would peer down at Tansy and me.

“What's happened here?” I whispered. Despite the lack of people, I felt compelled to lower my voice.

Kris was troubled and trying not to show it. A crease above the bridge of his nose betrayed him. “I don't know,” he murmured back. “This—this isn't right.”

I slowed my steps. “Should we turn around?” Our plans were risky enough as it was, without adding whatever was going on here.

Kris shook his head. “Whatever's happening here will keep happening if we don't put a stop to it.”

“Then we keep going.”

The silence of the streets as we made our way toward the main gate of the Institute was oppressive. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck as my ears strained for a sound, any sound. I was glad for Kris's company, even though we walked without speaking—just hearing another set of footsteps was a comfort. Still, all too soon we would part, and he'd enter the Institute and I'd go on alone to scout for the food stores.

I missed Nix's metallic little body pressed against my neck, the hum of its tiny clockwork mechanisms and its occasional sarcastic remarks. I missed Tansy, with a pang that made my heart ache. I missed Oren.

Kris slowed to a halt at the corner of a building. When I leaned forward to peer around it, I saw the massive front gate of the walled Institute compound looming just ahead. Somehow, in my memory, the gate was smaller. The whole complex was smaller. I remembered what was underneath it as massive, many times larger than what was visible above. But now, looking at it again, I remembered how dwarfed I'd felt walking through those doors, even before I knew what fate awaited me there.

I glanced at Kris, crouched beside me. “You don't have to go,” I whispered. “I can still be the one to—”

Kris tilted his head, just enough so that I could see his crooked, charming smile, and I fell silent. Even now it made my heart lurch a little, remembering when we'd first met. I'd thought of him as the only one there who really saw me; who treated me like a person. Even though it was all an act, then, seeing that smile now made me realize how much I'd come to rely on him. On his humor, his faith. On his friendship.

“This is my home,” Kris said softly. “I have to go back. I have to try to find middle ground with my people. I know you understand.”

“Me? Why would I?”

“Because you came back too. To your home.”

I chewed at my lip. “Just be careful. Don't promise them anything, just say that we want to talk. Find out if they're even willing, that's enough for a first step. Then get out of there.”

Kris nodded, and if it annoyed him hearing me list the same instructions for the fortieth time, he didn't show it.

“And Kris—” I hesitated. I was probably the best bargaining chip the resistance had, knowing how badly the Institute wanted to replicate what had been done to me. But we had to have something in reserve, something with which to shock them in negotiations. “Don't tell them I'm in the city again.”

Kris nodded again, and reached out to take my hand. “I'll be fine. They're my family. Even if they're being unreasonable right now, they're not going to hurt me.” He gave my hand a squeeze.

His touch ought to feel like Oren's, now that Oren was cured. But there were subtle differences even without the startling lack of magic. His hand was softer, warmer. And more expectant. He touched me like he was waiting for something. Or hoping for something.

I gave his hand a tiny squeeze in return, then carefully slipped my fingers from his. “Stay safe,” I said by way of farewell.

Kris straightened, pulling his shoulders back and lifting his head. Suddenly he was an architect again, even without the red coat and ornamental compass around his neck. Every inch of him screamed authority and power. He strode around the corner as though he owned it and made his way toward the gates.

I should have kept moving so that I'd have plenty of daylight if I couldn't find the stores right away. But I had to know if they were going to take Kris prisoner or let him walk in unmolested. So I remained still, watching.