I walked up and down the rows, pretending to examine an article or so every now and then. When I approached, the textile workers eagerly held up their pieces for my inspection, practically glowing with pride at the finer work they were doing. I just smiled and nodded before moving along. I kept my steps slow, my expression placid, like a supervisor just going about her rounds for the day. But I allowed my eyes to dart around when no one was looking, searching for a certain shade of blue. I found it soon enough, piled upon a stash of items already in a massive cloth-lined cart, ready for delivery topside.Perfect.
I approached the cart, looking as disinterested as I could, nodding at the textile worker who was finishing up cataloging the items to be delivered. He gave me a lopsided grin and a half salute before striding away to the next cart on his list. I waited until his back was turned before reaching into my pocket and extricating the note. I glanced down at the words upon it one final time before slipping it into the pocket of the royal blue double-breasted velvet coat. Then I dropped my hand back to my side and turned to leave before anyone noticed.
“It isn’t going to work,” a hushed feminine voice warned.
I whirled to find a young woman standing in the corner behind me. She pushed off of the wall she'd been leaning against, unfolding her arms and stepping into the low light. Her skin was a dark ebony, like the color of chocolate, and her brown eyes were bright despite how narrowed they were in my direction.She cocked her head to the side and her various dark braids slid over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry?” I asked, doing my best to keep a calm, cool affectation as I spoke. Whatever she'd seen, perhaps there was a chance I could convince her it wasn’t what she thought it was.
But my denial caused her to frown, both corners of her lips pulling downward in an expression that seemed suddenly familiar to me. I blinked.
“Do I know you?” I asked.
“Maybe,” she answered with a shrug, stepping forward. “But I doubt it. We didn’t exactly run in the same circles in Sanctuary. I’mZya. I was a Second Ringer. I got Culled over a year ago.”
Zya.The name was familiar and, a moment later, I remembered why. She was the one those snooty elite had been talking about at the House ofValinparty the week after Darius was culled. She was the one who hadn’t said a word to the gods or otherwise before walking straight into the void before my best friend. I stared at her face, knowing it was one I would never forget.
“The note you slipped into that coat,” she said then, nodding in the direction of the cart beside me and redirecting my attention to the reason she'd begun talking to me in the first place. “Whatever it is, whoever it’s meant for, it won’t get to them. It won’t work.”
I frowned, brow furrowing.
“How do you know?” I asked, giving up all pretense of pretending I hadn’t done exactly what she was accusing me of.
“You think you’re the first person to try getting a message back to Sanctuary? You think you’re the first of us that’s had a difficult time adjusting, leaving our families, our friends, behind? Forever?” she raised a brow and my cheeks burned.
“No but—”
“It isn’t just against the rules. It’s impossible.”
I crossed my arms and glared at her, but she held her ground. For the first time since I'd arrived in the Underground, I’d come across someone who hadn’t shrunk away from my uniform or the brands on my arms.Someone who talked about Sanctuary the way they were supposed to. Someone whomissedwhat they'd left behind, who maybe hadn't given up on finding it again.
“Don’t believe me?” she asked, quirking a brow. “Try it. See what happens. But don’t say I didn’t warn you, Viper.”
Then she breezed away, heading back into the fray of the busy textile level. I whipped my head to the side, letting my gaze follow her as she slipped into the crowd.Viper. She'd called me Viper. I clenched my fists at my sides and resisted the urge to punch something as hard as I could. I wasnota Viper. I never had been and I never would be. Dante had made sure of that.
With a growl of frustration, I stormed away from the delivery carts and made my way back through the tunnel to the elevator at the end of it. I was done with textiles for the day, Tiberius and his orders be damned.
***
The next morning I woke to find a familiar scrap of paper sitting on my kitchen counter right on top of the little beige envelope from the day before. When I leaned closer and recognized my own handwriting, the hastily scrawled name in the top corner,Milo,I began to shake. Feeling suddenly ill, I ran to the bathroom, desperate to put space between myself and whatever horrible magic had touched that letter since I’d stuffed it into an ornate blue coat the day before.
Zya’swords came back to me all at once, the meaning frighteningly clear.
It isn’t just against the rules. It’s impossible.
I locked myself in the bathroom and slumped to the tile. Head bowed forward, I tucked my knees against my chest and sobbed.Reaching Sanctuary wasn’t going to be as simple as I thought. Reaching Sanctuary might actually be impossible.
I remained on the bathroom floor for what felt like hours, crying until my eyes were red and raw and my chest was a gaping void of feeling. My hope waned before it returned. I drifted alone in my misery, jumping from hopelessness to determination and back again. When the day’s summons came, I ignored it. I left that beige envelope on the floor in front of my door, unopened, and dressed slowly before making my way down to the first level outside.
I hadn’t made the conscious decision to return to that place. My feet just simply seemed to carry me there of their own accord and, before I knew it, I was in that strange temple. It was more of a shrine to gods and heroes than anything else but it could have been a temple just as well. I wouldn’t know what one looked like.
I stood under the gaping hole in the ceiling and stared up into the darkness. The candles below had been rearranged, righted andrelitafter I'd fallen on top of them. I stepped between them, careful not to let my baggy jumpsuit catch on any of the flames, before stopping in the middle. I clenched my fists as I stared up into the abyss and allowed myself to think of him again for the first time.
Was he still up there? Had the fate he'd won by sacrificing me been worth it? Did he return to Sanctuary, the first to ever return from the tenth Trial? Or had he been taken somewhere else as well? Did he know I was alive? Did he care?
I closed my eyes and took a breath, my fists clenching with the fury building within me.
“Pardon me, Chosen,” someone spoke suddenly in the silence.
