Gates of Thread and Stone

CHAPTER 9

AVAN TOLD ME he had a plan. Seeing as how my own plan involved stealing a Gray I didn’t know how to ride and hoping we could outrun the gargoyles, I was open to it.

We headed for the river and the nearest bridge. When we passed the post marking the path down to the docks, I had to pause to run my fingers along the wood. Reev’s numerous Ks. My Rs. And then the single mark Reev had left yesterday. It had been only a day, but already so much had happened. It felt like ages since I’d last seen my brother. My chest hurt with missing him.

Avan walked ahead, his shoulders relaxed and his stride casual, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. He was so good at pretending to be okay that I often let myself believe it because it was easier.

He was a much better friend to me than I had ever been to him.

I should leave now. Slip away and disappear into the Labyrinth until he gave up. A good friend would have done that.

I didn’t. I didn’t want to do this alone. How could I be so selfish?

Like we promised, Avan and I stopped first at the bank. Once they checked my ID with the registry, I arranged for twelve hundred credits to be transferred to Dusty Jax. I hated losing so much money, but I didn’t regret it. And I didn’t bother removing Avan’s access to my funds.

We headed to Avan’s shop next. He said he had something that would get us across the Outlands.

Light from the shop cast dim blocks on the sidewalk and outlined the pole of a broken lamppost. I headed for the front door, but Avan’s hand on my arm stopped me.

“This way,” he said, and we cut around the shop through the alley.

A shed was nestled in the back beside the trash bins. Avan undid the padlock and pulled open the door. The rusted hinges screeched so loudly that I expected Avan’s dad to come rushing out the back door in search of burglars.

He didn’t, of course. He was probably passed out and wouldn’t wake even if a herd of Grays ripped through the shop.

Avan lit a lantern sitting on a crate against the wall. The light shone across a cramped space filled with barrels, boxes, and a cart connected to a Gray. The creature had been crafted in the form of a horse, the same shape as most of the North District’s Grays. The glow from the lantern caught the curves of its body, burnishing the drab metal.

“I didn’t know you had a Gray,” I said. I’d never been this close to a resting one before. There were plenty of North District Grays, but no one would risk leaving theirs out in the open when it wasn’t in use.

Avan’s lay on the dusty floor, its legs curled beneath, looking unnervingly like it was sleeping.

Avan reached behind the Gray and unlatched the cart. “I bought this to deliver packages,” he said. “It needed a lot of work, so I got it cheap. I don’t use it much, but it’s nice to have when I do need it.”

He pushed the Gray onto its side before opening a panel in its chest. A red energy stone about the size of my fist was fitted into a metal bed. I didn’t know much about how the Grays worked, only that no smithy could make the creature run without the magic of an energy stone.

“Won’t your dad need this?”

“I’m the one who takes and fills orders. Dad won’t even notice it’s missing.” Avan poked the stone, which flickered red briefly, highlighting the bridge of his nose and the curve of his lips. “This isn’t going to last if we’re going to the Void.”

According to the map, the Outlands stretched a solid five hundred miles east to the forest. Depending on how fast the Gray was, it could take us a full day or longer to reach the Void.

“Is this going to outrun the gargoyles?” Considering our school texts claimed the gargoyles had either eaten the rest of the native wildlife or driven them into hiding in the forest, speed was a pressing concern.

“Won’t matter if it doesn’t even make it halfway across the Outlands.”

“We should take the energy stone from the Raging Bull,” I said. “I’m sure Joss could afford another one with the credits he got selling Reev.” I wanted to do a lot worse than steal his energy stone, but those dark, violent urges scared me. And they would disappoint Reev.

“Would you really do that?” Avan asked without looking up. Shadows carved deep lines into his face where the light from the lantern didn’t reach.

“No,” I admitted. “There are a lot of workers in the building. Joss would make all of them pay for it.”

Avan shut the panel. “Come on.”

He dropped his bag into a compartment behind the saddle and pushed the controls along the Gray’s neck. I flinched when the creature rose to its feet. Sheets of overlapping metal made up its body, and despite the rust and scratches, they rippled smoothly in eerie mimicry of muscles shifting under skin.

I stepped back as it trotted out of the shed and came to a stop in front of me. I glanced at Avan uncertainly.

After locking the shed, he gripped the saddle and pulled himself onto the Gray. He held out his hand to me.

“I’ve never ridden one before,” I said. Reev didn’t think they were safe. Before my job with the DMC, he never let me go too far from the Labyrinth on my own.

“You don’t have to do anything except hold on,” Avan said.

This didn’t reassure me in the least. With a deep breath, I put my bag alongside his and took his hand. My other hand grabbed the saddle as he pulled me up, and I swung my leg over the creature. The angle of the seat forced me flush against Avan. My pulse fluttered wildly beneath my skin. Good thing the darkness hid my blushing. Avan leaned over to position my feet on notches built into the Gray’s flanks. I could feel the strength in his fingers even through my flimsy boots.

Stop it. Telling my body to shut up worked until Avan reached back to snag my hands and wrap them around his waist. He was so warm, his stomach firm against my palms. I tried to remember to breathe.

He flicked something else along the creature’s head, and the energy stone lit up. The Gray’s chest glowed red, the light escaping through the vents to illuminate the ground in front of us. I clutched Avan as he gripped the handles on either side of the Gray’s neck and leaned forward.

Every muscle in my body clenched tight as the Gray took off. Avan laughed. We were so close that I could feel the vibrations in his chest.

We weren’t going very fast, really. A slow gallop at most. Scouts—military Grays reserved only for sentinels—were the fastest because they were built specifically to outrun a gargoyle. I wished we could steal one of those, but scouts were stored in the White Court.

Traffic was light in the North District because Grays were expensive to maintain. The few blacksmiths in the Alley with the expertise to repair them had fallen under city control and charged more than the average person could afford. As far as I knew, most of the riders went the illegal route and bought services from the street smithies.

On the Gray, it took us less than five minutes to reach Avan’s place. He cut the power, and the energy stone went dark. The sky was almost pitch-black without the city’s lampposts.

“Stay here,” he said, hopping off the saddle. “I’ll be right back.”

I shivered in the cool night. Without Avan in front of me, I felt unsteady. I leaned forward, resting my hands on the seat. It was warm. I drew away, flustered.

Sometimes, with the shop counter between us, it was easy to look at Avan and admire him from the safe standpoint of a friend, to see him as just a boy from the Alley.

And sometimes, like now, with his body heat still clinging to the front of my shirt, the sight of his silhouette through the mottled windows left me unbalanced, and I didn’t know if reaching out would steady me or knock me off my feet. And because it was Avan, I wasn’t sure I would mind either way.

Beyond the freight containers, I could make out the lumpy mounds of the junkyard. My school friends and I used to explore its precarious hills on quiet mornings after Reev went to work. It was always exciting when we found pieces of things that hinted at the city’s past.

The city’s original name—illegible in the maps from the records hall—had been discarded and forgotten, but some of the city’s history and traditions remained archived. This had once been a bustling fishing town filled with seafaring people. They had worshiped mahjo who could manipulate wind and water. The cliffs hadn’t existed before Rebirth, and the sea had risen right up to what was now the White Court.

You wouldn’t think it, seeing the city as it was now, but we’d found evidence of its past there in the junkyard: the skeletal remnants of boats, rotted masts, stray anchors, and rusty hooks. After one girl got a hook caught in her palm, we had to stop exploring the yard because Reev found out from her parents. His disappointment had always been so much worse than any punishment.

I looked away from the shapes in the distance and scooted up on the saddle to examine the gears along the Gray’s neck. I should’ve watched more closely when he turned it on. I reached for a switch just as the light from Avan’s house went dark. A moment later, I saw a tall shape moving through the night.

He carried a metal box in one hand and a sputtering lantern in the other. I slid off the saddle to give him room.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Replacing the energy stone.” He opened the creature’s chest again, tools in hand, and began unscrewing things.

I sat in front of his door, folding my hands on top of my knees. “Looks complicated.”

“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.