Phoenix (Black City #2)

Phoenix (Black City #2) Page 29

He charges toward a Sentry guard, who has his gun pointed at a woman’s head. I can’t see her face, but the long ginger ponytail is unmistakable.

I gasp. “Juno!”

Before Nick can reach her, a bomb detonates. Dirt and gore explode into the air, showering the battlefield in a rain of blood. When the dust settles, there’s a shallow crater in the ground where Nick once stood. There’s nothing left of him to identify. Nearby, Juno lies facedown in a pool of blood, unmoving, the Sentry guard clearly dead beside her.

The footage cuts back to the city square in Centrum. The people seem stunned. Then they realize they’re on camera and all begin to cheer again, as if on cue. Rose finishes his speech, warning that his forces will not rest until all the remaining rebels have been hunted down and captured. No one will threaten this great nation. The broadcast ends with the Sentry crest and the words ONE FAITH, ONE RACE, ONE NATION UNDER HIS MIGHTY.

We’re all too shocked to speak at first, saddened by Nick’s death and the certainty that Juno is either dead or seriously wounded. It makes me worry about Amy and Stuart as well. Did they make it out of Iridium alive?

Ash leans forward in his chair, hooking his hands behind his head. I want to comfort him, but I don’t think my affections would be welcomed after what happened upstairs.

Elijah gets up. “Madame Clara, may I make a phone call? I want to check in with my family.”

“The phone’s in the parlor,” she replies.

Elijah leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

“What’s my dad going to think?” Ash says quietly. “He’ll be so worried.”

“He’ll know it wasn’t you,” I reassure him. “He knew Nick and Juno were traveling together.”

Ash scrapes his chair back. “I’m going upstairs.”

I stand up, expecting to go with him.

He looks at me coldly. “I don’t want any company.”

I flinch, but what did I expect? I really hurt his feelings earlier. He leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. Giselle bounces to her feet and turns off the digital screen.

“At least they think Ash is dead. That’s good news,” Giselle says. “They won’t come looking for him in Thrace now.”

“Giselle!” Madame Clara chides. “That boy was their friend.”

Giselle bites her lip slightly. “Sorry. I don’t always think before I speak.”

“It’s fine,” I say, a little tersely. “Excuse me. I’m going to find Elijah.”

I stroll down the hallway, thinking about what Giselle said. I hate to admit it, but in a small way, Nick’s death is good news. If those guards from earlier tell anyone they saw him here, people will assume they were mistaken, since Purian Rose just proclaimed that Phoenix is dead. I poke my nose into all the rooms until I find the parlor. It’s a small but cozy room, with sumptuous pink walls and glimmering fabrics thrown over the chairs and chaise longue.

Elijah is sitting on the window ledge, talking quietly on the phone. He seems agitated.

“I know what’s at stake . . . I’m being as quick as I . . .” Elijah runs his fingers through his dark brown hair. He spots me by the doorway. “I have to go.”

He hangs up the phone.

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

“Just my dad being a jerk, as usual.”

“I’m sure he’s just eager to get his hands on the Ora. We all are,” I say. “Has there been any sighting of the Destroyer Ships near Viridis?”

“Not yet, thankfully,” he says. “I guess Purian Rose is waiting until they’ve collected all the humans who voted no in the ballot first, and then he’ll add a new addendum to Rose’s Law and come for us.”

I nod. One thing at a time, my father always used to say, and Purian Rose is a patient man. It’s not like a few thousand Bastets pose much threat to him, so there’s no need to waste his resources on them when he’s got his hands full with the rebel attacks.

We head back to the kitchen, where dinner is being served. I sit down as Madame Clara scoops some rice into a bowl and places it on the table between us. I don’t have any appetite.

Elijah starts serving us dinner, putting a few dollops of rice on everyone’s plates. He catches me looking and immediately sits down, a deep flush spreading up his neck, although I don’t know why. What’s he got to be embarrassed about? He was being nice!

“Elijah was telling us earlier on about the Tenth and your search to find his mother,” Madame Clara says. “You think she was staying at a place called the Moon Star?”

“Yes. Have you heard of it?” I say.

“No, I’m sorry, my dear,” Madame Clara replies. “There are hundreds of taverns in the city.”

“Their names tend to describe some distinctive feature of the building, though,” Giselle chimes in. “For instance, the Scarlet Sun has a bright red sun painted on its door; the Witch’s Hat has a roof in the shape of a pointy hat, that sort of thing.”

“Wouldn’t it be more convenient just to put a sign outside the building?” I say.

Madame Clara laughs. “Part of the joy is working out the name of the place. You get one chance to guess the name. If you’re right, the barmaid gives you a free shot of spiced Shine.”

“Isn’t the tavern’s name written on their tariff boards, though?” Elijah asks.

“Yes, but most merchants are either illiterate or too dimwitted by the pretty barmaids to notice it,” Giselle says.

“The locals must get a lot of free drinks,” Elijah murmurs.

Giselle laughs. “We do. But in return, we bring merchants into the taverns and keep them entertained, so they stay and buy loads of drinks. They nearly always end up having to rent out one of the tavern’s rooms to sleep it off. So everybody wins.”

Elijah catches my eye and frowns. This is really going to slow down our progress.

I sigh, pushing my plate aside. “I’m going to look for the Moon Star.”

“Should we get Ash?” Elijah says.

“I’d rather he didn’t come,” I say.

Elijah doesn’t push it as we put on our hooded robes and head out into the city.

28.

NATALIE

THE SUN HAS STARTED to set over the Mirror City, making the solar panels on all the rooftops shine with amber light. Everything about the city is warm and inviting, with laughter and music spilling out of the taverns, and children rushing through the streets, jovially chasing each other. It’s so at odds with my mood. I keep replaying the image of Nick getting blown up in my mind, and my stomach knots.

“Are you okay?” Elijah asks me as we turn down Saffron Street.

“No,” I admit.

“Giselle’s a nice girl, isn’t she?” Elijah says, clearly wanting to divert my mind from thoughts of Nick and the others.

“Not really,” I say.

Elijah grins at me. “Jealous?”

“No!” I say, then look down. “Maybe. I don’t like how she looks at Ash.”

“Yeah, well, get used to it, pretty girl,” he says. “He’s famous now.”

A couple of merchants sing loudly as they pass us, their faces red from a mixture of sunburn and drinking too much spiced Shine. I tug my hood lower around my face.

“So what’s going on with you lovebirds?” Elijah asks as we wander down the street. “Things seemed tense earlier.”

“It’s nothing,” I say, then add in a rush, “We were kissing, and he wanted to take things further, and I couldn’t because I’m sick, so now he’s upset.” I blush. It’s really embarrassing talking to Elijah about my sex life, or lack thereof.

“Oh,” he says. “Maybe it’s time to tell him you’re—”

“Don’t even say it, Elijah,” I say.

“Natalie . . .”

“In the past year, I’ve lost everyone I love,” I say. “I’m not ready to lose Ash yet.”

“You’re being selfish,” he says. “And you’re hurting Ash by not telling him.”

“I know,” I whisper. “But I can’t let him go, not yet. I’m not strong enough.”

“Well, if you’re going to continue with this charade, then at least stop sending him mixed signals,” Elijah replies. “It’s cruel to lead him on if you plan to leave him.”

I chew on my nail, saying nothing. He’s right, though. It’s unfair to give Ash hope when there is none.

Elijah nods toward a nearby tavern with a green door made out of tree branches.

“Should we go in?” he says.

“We might as well start somewhere,” I say.

He holds the door open for me as we go inside.

The tavern is crammed with merchants from all walks of life—some wear fine silk shirts, pocket watches and elaborate tailcoats, others are dressed in tattered rags, their gnarled hands cupped around glasses of spiced Shine. But everyone is chatting and mingling happily, like there are no differences between them. People barely notice us as we walk up to the bar, keeping an eye out for the tariff board, but even so, we keep our hoods low and heads bowed.

A curvaceous barmaid with wild curls of brown hair walks over to us. Her lips are painted the color of copper, and her luminous hazel eyes are heavily circled with Cinderstone powder. She’s wearing a typical folk dress, like mine, although she fills hers out a lot better than I do—something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Elijah, given the way his eyes keep drifting down.

“What’s my name, merchant?” she says in a thick Thracian accent.

Elijah spots the wooden tariff board by the stairwell. “The Olive Branch,” he says, translating the Thracian name.

The barmaid beams and pours two shots of spiced Shine, then places them in front of us. He picks up the glass of amber liquid. “To Nick and Juno.”

I hesitate, then raise mine. “Nick and Juno.”

We knock back our drinks in one go. I gasp as the choking heat scorches down my throat. The taste is unpleasant, but the effect is immediate. Already I feel more relaxed. It’s nice. It’s been such a horrible couple of days; I want to forget everything for a few hours.

Elijah turns to the barmaid. “Do you know where we can find La Luna Estrella?”

“No, sweetie,” she replies. “But why don’t you stay here and have another drink?”

“Another time.” Elijah winks at her, then takes my hand and leads me out of the tavern.

She swears at us as we leave—this is not how the game is meant to be played.

We head into the next tavern a few doors down. This one’s the Yellow Duck. Another dead end. We hurry to the tavern on the next street, then on to another, and another. We visit over twenty bars in the space of three hours, only allowing ourselves to have a drink at every fifth stop, but even so, I’m feeling a little lightheaded. It’s nice.

I hook my arm through Elijah’s as we wander down the bustling street. No one pays us much attention; Thrace is a city of strangers. I’m surprised there are so many people out after dark, but I guess without any Darklings in the city, there’s no reason for a curfew like we had in Black City.

We enter Thyme Plaza, which is smaller than Spice Square. In the middle of the plaza is an ornate marble fountain, topped with a statue of two lovers entwined in an embrace. A flock of pigeons nest at its base. They scatter into the sky as we pass by.

“Argh! Get them away from me,” Elijah says, swatting at the birds.

I don’t mean to laugh, but I can’t keep the sound from escaping my lips.

“It’s not funny,” he says huffily.

“I’m sorry,” I reply, plucking a gray feather out of his hair. “But honestly, what’s so frightening about a bird? They’re cute.”

“No they’re not! They have these horrible, beady little eyes and disgusting clawed feet.” He shudders, and I burst out into a fit of giggles again. “That does it,” he says, grabbing me.

He tickles me until I can barely breathe.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I gasp.

He grins, releasing me. “There must be something you’re frightened of.”

“Yeah, Wraths,” I say, my voice cracking.

Elijah pulls me toward him, and I lay my head against his broad chest. “I’ll take care of you, Natalie. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he murmurs.

His arms briefly tighten around me, and then he lets me go. I’m surprised at how quickly my heart is beating.

“Let’s check out this tavern,” I say, indicating a building with a blue door.

We go inside. This time the barmaid is a blonde, with pale green eyes. Excitement briefly bubbles up in me, thinking it could be Esme, but then I remember she’s in a wheelchair and would be in her late forties or fifties by now, and this woman is in her thirties. The barmaid walks over to us, and her smile falters. For a second I’m worried she’s recognized us, despite our hooded capes. But then her smile returns.

“What’s my name, merchant?” she asks.

Elijah glances at the tariff board. “The Pink Apple.”

We’re rewarded with two more free shots of spiced Shine.

“We’re looking for a tavern called La Luna Estrella. Have you heard of it?” Elijah asks her.

She shakes her head. Even if she did know the place, I doubt she’d tell us.

“Enjoy your drink,” she says, giving Elijah a flirtatious wink, which he returns. For some idiotic reason, I feel jealous.