I think of Dyl.
I think of Ana.
I cannot fail.
I FINALLY FINISH THE LAST CLASP, but no one knows this. They think I’m still in the infancy of progress toward a whole set. I pretend I need a break from work and help Cy make a batch of bio-accelerant based on his own DNA.
“You know, you should consider trying changing your neural elixir,” I say, staring at the data. “Maybe it’ll work better without the bio-accelerant component. Brain tissue hardly grows in an adult. Our skin turns over a million times faster, in comparison. Could your elixir have been too fast for a mature brain?”
“Huh.” Cy squints at the data, but he’s thinking of my idea. “Huh.” He starts poring through the muscle-regeneration data he’d done months ago, comparing the samples with the skin and hair serums.
I smile at his enthusiasm, but I’m despondent inside. I wish I could stay by his side to figure it out with him.
THAT NIGHT, I OFFER THE IDEA OF a group dinner to everyone, and it’s welcomed happily. Ever since the post-Argent breakfast, family meals have been more acceptable. For a change, we eat al fresco on the agriplane. I guess Marka doesn’t mind me being up there when I’m surrounded by all my housemates. To my disappointment, none of the restrictions on my access have eased up since we talked.
Five hours until my deadline. The urgency bites deeply into my thoughts as each minute passes. I sit on my corner of blanket, dodging Cy’s surreptitious glances from across the meal. White bats constantly swoop in to nab the flies hovering above our food. They look like spidery webs of tissue fluttering by.
“Are these ever going to go away?” I say, swatting at the bats.
“They’re engineered to eat pests during the daylight,” Wilbert informs me.
“He means no,” Vera says, munching on a forkful of salad. “So like I was saying, no one in Neia is going to vote for a governor with those ideals. If people want the women spewing out babies at the speed of light and covered from head to toe, they can move to Inky.”
Over the din of the ensuing discussion, Hex bumps me with his elbow, which hurts way more than he intended. “Where are you disappearing off to?” he whispers out of the side of his mouth.
The tiny morsel of micro-veggie salad gets caught in my throat. I chase it down with some water, but Hex’s eyes don’t waver after my coughing fit.
“Disappearing?” I say, between hacks.
He waves his fork at me. “You’re so pale. You getting enough sleep?”
You have no idea, I think. I’d just spent the last hour with Cy, trying to ignore a dream of Vera eating her way through a huge rack of Kansas City barbecue ribs. Totally disturbing. I shrug at Hex and try to look enthusiastic. “I guess I love lab work. It’s distracting.”
“You are a strange, strange girl.” Hex shakes his head and stuffs half a baked potato into his mouth. Throughout dinner, he doesn’t say anything else about it. But I catch him looking at me funny, especially when I get distracted by another dream where Cy is kissing me and we are once again interrupted by Dyl.
After dinner is cleared away, I give Hex a pat on the back.
“I’m okay, you know.”
“You’re sure?” He stares down at me critically. Standing next to all those arms, I’m still sometimes at a loss for words seeing his trait.
“Yeah.” I turn to head back to the lab, but Hex swings an arm at me and catches me in a full-on, four-armed hug. I stay stiff for a few moments, but soon relax. He really is a world class, gold medal hugger. Two tears squeeze out of my eyes and blot onto his shirt. Good. I don’t want him to see them on my eyelashes.
“Thank, Hex. See ya.”
He points at me with two sets of hands. “Catch ya later.”
I force a hearty laugh as I walk away.
“Wait, wait. Time for dessert!” Marka announces. She and Cy break up their discussion hastily, as if triggered by my retreat to the tower. She picks up a round chocolate babka on an orange porcelain platter and a knife. The babka immediately has everyone’s attention. All the inhabitants of Carus have a wicked sweet tooth.
In a second, I see salvation in swirls of flaky, sweet chocolate bread and the shining blade. It’s my ticket out of here. There’s no other way.
“I’ll cut it!” I say, a little overenthusiastically, and rush forward.
“It’s no prob— Watch it!” Marka yells.
I drag my foot heavily on the edge of the picnic blanket and pitch forward toward Marka’s outstretched offering. I splay my fingers to catch my fall, a net of two hands filtering everything before me, the babka and air and the knife, all at the same time. Bingo. With a slapping sound, my palms smack the platter and the knife. The babka flies in the air, and in seconds the agriplane solidly finds my face and chest. It is hard and unsympathetic, even to my cause.
“Oh, ffrrr.” It’s all I can say for a second. The pain shoots through my left palm, and a warm stickiness trickles down my wrist. Excellent.
“I guess she really wanted that babka,” Hex says, leaning over to pluck me off the ground. Cy’s feet come into view as he takes over Hex’s position. His hands go to my shoulders, lifting me.
“What was that about?” Cy says, immediately examining my hand. “You’re bleeding.”
“On my babka!” Wilbert blurts.
“It wasn’t yours,” Vera snaps. “Well, it’s nobody’s now. Blood and babka don’t go together.” She sniffs. “Anyway, it wasn’t vegan.”
“I’m sorry. I owe you guys a dessert.” I wince at the pain, wiping my other cake-crusted hand on my shirt. The smushed babka on the ground is smeared with blood, and the chocolate and rusty smell combine to form a scent only a chocoholic vampire would love. I release my hand from Cy’s, studying the jagged gash encrusted with sugar crystals and dirt. I don’t know if it was the knife or the broken platter that did the deed. I’m just glad something split me open.
Marka pats me on the back. “Cy, will you take her to the infirmary?” I watch her watch me, her nose smelling who knows what—deceit drenched in blood and chocolate bread. She’s calm, as usual, but for the first time I recognize the tired fear, relentless as the tides. I’m still watching her when Cy tugs on my arm.
“C’mon.”
Right. Time to get out of here. I want to celebrate my success, but for now I’ll hide it in a face distraught about my injured hand.
The same hand that just bought me a ticket to freedom.
“THINGS WERE A LOT DIFFERENT THE LAST time we were in this room together.”
“Don’t remind me.” Cy leans into me, pushing my head out of the way with his cheek so he can see my wound better. It doesn’t take long to clean out the debris from my hand. Over my shoulder, I see the drawers filled with medicines. All the locks went from flashing red to green as soon as Cy opened the door. The infirmary door was the only one that didn’t automatically open when I first arrived at Carus.
“Aren’t you going to use your brew on me?”
“It’s just a small cut.”
“I wasn’t really watching last time. I’d love to see it in action.”
He stands up straight to blow his hair out of his face. “I need it for emergencies. There’s only two vials left, after the one I used on Callie.”
“Just a tiny bit. I promise I won’t attack any more desserts this week.”
Cy hesitates, wondering if my little cut is worth weeks of work. Wondering if I’m worth it. Inside, I’m burning to tell him the truth.