“I think we both know it’s not the first time.” I hold my eyes to his without blinking, feeling bold.
He leans back in acceptance. “Where would you like to go?”
“You told me you would take me somewhere we could see the stars,” I say quietly, as if people are listening.
He looks down, thinks for a moment, trying not to smile. “And you’re only wanting to leave with me to postpone going home to Aurick.” A switch of moods comes over him.
I let my eyes drop. “I wanted to spend time with you, Dessin.” I’m curious to see how he reacts to what Ruth has taught me about flirtation. I have the urge to do it, but I’m nervous. Nervous he will reject me or call me out. I’m not even sure if Ruth would be deemed an expert on the matter. “I want to spend time with you—alone.” There it is. It crept its way in, despite my concern.
His eyes widen slightly, and his full lips part. He doesn’t say anything. But he stares at me, seemingly at a loss for words. Two long seconds pass, and he nods once.
“It’s 7:01 p.m. They’ve already locked up and forgot to check on you because I’m not even on your schedule at this time. The last to leave are Judas and Martin, but it is Martin’s wife’s birthday, and Judas is deaf in one ear, so even if he is here, he won’t notice us leaving.”
I keep the fact that Judas gave me this idea to myself.
“Let’s see it, mister magician.” A rush of adrenaline spikes through my veins as I realize I’m about to see how he does it, how he escapes the impossible. I know he sees the glint in my eye to learn.
He reaches under his bed, and pulls up a floor panel, swipes an item, and approaches the door. It’s a key. Identical to mine. Hemadehis own.
The ticking and clanking of cogs break the silence, and the door cracks open, releasing a short spurt of air to decompress.
He pulls the door open the rest of the way. “After you.” I tighten my hand around the sides of my dress. Suddenly, the thought of us getting caught niggles at the back of my mind. I’ll be terminated and given federal punishment. Dessin will be publicly executed. What if his death is inevitable? What if I can’t save him?
Dessin flashes his eyes up at me darkly and squints. “If I don’t intend on getting caught, then I won’t,” he says as a matter of fact. “It’s not a hopeful thought. It’s a fact.”
The truth to his words is reassuring. However, his confidence when he speaks is a different level of reassurance. He makes me believe that he can never fail.
When we arrive at the ladder to climb down into the basement, he goes first. Just like last time. I climb down after him. But this time, when I glance down and over my shoulder, I notice him looking away and to his left as he probably has a perfect view up my dress. I get to the third to last step, and he grips my waist hesitantly. I look down at him and smile, nodding my head. He lifts me and sets me down.
“Follow me,” he says, low and rugged.
He lights the lanterns, and we walk down the hall of tunnels for a few yards before we reach a dead end. Another ladder. Another door with a latch. He maneuvers a dagger in the lock, wiggling it around. I place my hand over his forearm. “Will this work?” I hold my hand out with the key resting on my palm.
Genuine, satisfying, unmistakableshock. “Where did you get that?”
I drop it in his hand. “I’mnotgoing to tell you.”
His eyebrows rise.
“Annoying, isn’t it?” I mock.
“I could have broken out without it. But it does make this easier, so I’ll let it pass.” We climb out into a wooded area. The sun has gone down, yet the air is still warm.
He walks over to a thick evergreen tree. Underneath its wilting cover, he pulls out a motorcycle. I’ve seen one once when I was a little girl. But they don’t fit into our society. Only small black buggies with loud engines and bumpy rides.
I stop abruptly, holding a prickly pine tree branch away from my face.
“I’m wearing a dress.”
He chuckles. “You’re not wondering where this bike came from or even about riding one for the first time, but about how your dress might fly up while you’re on it.” He smiles up at me, eyes capturing the deep orange and blue from the sunset like a painting reflecting in the gaze of its artist.
“I mean, it’s fine if you’re okay with a lot of men seeing what’s under this dress.” I smirk, swaying my dress lightly in the breeze.
He looks down at it then back up to meet my eyes. His smile falls. “I’m not.”
Thank you, Ruth. Maybe you are an expert at flirting.
I walk over to the bike and hold my dress down while I throw a leg over. “I’m resourceful.” I tuck the dress across the seat so that he can sit on it.
