Ashes of Twilight (15 page)

I certainly hope so.

11

We are never without
an escape route. Every tunnel and every cavern has two ways in and two ways out so that you are never trapped. I use the one for the village, located behind the turning wheel, and hope and pray that I have not been missed. There isn’t any way I can get to our home without someone seeing me, but the village is strangely deserted. No wives at their chores, no toddlers playing, no one gossiping. It’s just eerily quiet. Even the birds, which sit on the lines and swoop down for crumbs, are all at rest. I feel as if I’m being watched as I quickly run up the steps that lead to my home. Cats arch their backs and hiss at my haste before slinking into hiding places, except for one that follows me in.

I eat with some guilt. I know Pace is hungry but at the moment there’s nothing I can do about it. I quickly shed my clothes and scrub them clean with the water in the pail before hanging them to dry. Then I tumble into my bed, exhaustion finally catching up with me. The cat, sated on my crumbs, jumps onto the bed and curls up against me.

I don’t know how long I sleep before my grandfather shakes me awake. He throws my clothes on the bed as I scrub wearily at my eyes. The cat yawns widely and meows in protest. I rub between its ears as I fight off the remnant of a dream that held me in its grip.

“Council wants to meet with you.”

Pace? Was he discovered? Did he tell them I brought him into the tunnels? Did he even have to?
Don’t panic …
I take a deep breath.

“Why?”

My grandfather sits down in the one chair we own. His goggles hang around his neck precariously. The strap is broken on one side and needs mending again, something else I’ve neglected lately. He always makes sure that I have what I need, even down to a better pair of goggles, yet his needs are greater as he actually digs for the coal.

He takes off his hat and runs his hand through his hair. My grandfather has beautiful hair, long, wavy, and thick. I remember when I was little it was a rich brown color, a lot like my own. Now it is streaked with silver and the lines on his face are deeply etched and stained with black.

I finish dressing and he nods me over to sit on the edge of his own neatly made bed. He takes my hands between his and I see the coal rimmed around his nails, deep in his cuticles, never gone no matter how much he scrubs at them. Will my hands look the same someday? Worn and wrinkled with twisted fingers that are forever blackened by the coal the royals demand?

“Filchers came below today, Wren.” He squeezes my fingers and I feel his terror. Because of me. For me. “They were looking for you and that boy.”

I can’t speak. I’m shocked beyond words. Never have filchers dared to come below. I can only stare into my grandfather’s eyes, the same color as my own, as he continues.

“They were killed and dropped into the pit.”

More death. Because of what I saw. Because of what they think I may know. Is it worth it? Isn’t Alex’s death enough? What are they so afraid of?

But more important, who is the one afraid of us?

My grandfather waits patiently while I absorb the things he’s told me. “Who killed them?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, if it was because of me, then yes.”

“It was Jasper’s crew that found them. They won’t say who done the killing. I sent Adam and James down to work with them today.”

“Was anyone hurt?” I ask, holding my breath.

“None of ours,” he says, and I let out a sigh of relief. “No one’s saying who done it. They say they all done it together to protect you from them above.”

They killed for me. And now they want to talk to me. Grandfather hasn’t mentioned Pace. Maybe they don’t know he is below.

“You need to tell me the all of it, Wren. I don’t want no surprises in there.”

I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell him about Pace. I knew my grandfather. He’d trade Pace for my safety without blinking an eye. I couldn’t let that happen. Pace was the only one who knew what happened to Alex. Pace was the only one who knew Alex made it outside. He might even know where and how.

“There’s been talk that you’ve been seeing that boy from above. That he’s why you’re always sneaking off.”

James spreading lies …
“I wasn’t.” I pull my hands free and twist them in my lap. “That’s not where I go.”

“Where did you go then? Every morning since you were big enough to go out on your own?”

“To the rooftops.” I know he won’t like it. That he’ll think it’s nothing more than flights of fancy. That it won’t put food on the table or give me a better life. He won’t understand that I can’t help it. That I need to see the light the same way I need to breathe. “To watch the light come into the dome.”

“Every morning?”

I look my grandfather in the eyes. “Every morning.”

“What about the boy?”

“He was there when they killed Alex.”

“What do you mean ‘when they killed Alex’?”

“He made it outside and they killed him for it.”

My grandfather grabs my arms and jerks me to my feet. He shakes me, violently, until I’m afraid my head will pop off my neck from the force. His face is inches from mine and his anger so tangible that I shrink back from it.

“That’s nonsense, Wren. Nonsense that will get you killed.” I expected him to scream and shout, but instead he speaks quietly, which is more frightening than his shouting. His tone scares me more than his anger. “You will speak no more of this.”

“But it’s true.” I can’t keep the fear from my voice or the tears from my eyes.

He pushes me away so suddenly that I fall back onto his bed. “You’re just like your mother. Never content. Always looking for something that isn’t there. And look where that got her.”

What it got her was me. And I’m the reason she died, during childbirth. Does my grandfather hate me for it? Is he ashamed because his granddaughter is a bastard with a father who could be anyone?

I wipe my eyes, not sure if the tears are from fear or anger. How can I know if I’m like my mother if I never knew her? All I have are his comparisons and they are always condemning. I know he doesn’t believe me. He won’t even listen. And if he won’t listen, then surely no one else will.

“You will never speak of it. Not in there, nor to anyone, do you hear me?”

I could have died today. Been thrown in the fires and burned to a crisp before he’d even hear about it. I’m alive now because I fought to stay alive. How can he dismiss me so easily when I’ve had to fight for my life because of what I know? I stand and face him. I’ve never really noticed how short he is, just a few inches taller than me. Maybe it’s because Pace seems so tall, or maybe it’s just that all the men in my world are shorter than those above. Whatever the reason, I feel something different inside me, an inner strength that somehow subdues the doubt I felt before. I’ve never talked back to my grandfather before. But I’ve also never been wanted for questioning, or ran for my very life from people who wanted to kill me without a second thought.

“Shouldn’t they know what they killed for?” My voice sounds strangely calm, as if it belongs to someone else. “Shouldn’t they know what they are fighting for?”

“What good will it do them? What good will it do any of us to know there’s an outside? We can’t go there. No one can. Don’t you see, Wren, you’re wasting your life and throwing away your chances on things that can never be.”

“Chances for what? Service to the royals for me and my children until the coal finally runs out and there’s nothing left to power the fans? And then what? Sit here until we all suffocate? There’s got to be something more. If there’s not, then why bother?”

“It’s not like that. Not at all.” My grandfather turns and walks away. He stops at the washstand and leans on it with his arms braced against it as if he needs it to hold him up. He stares into the piece of mirror and I cannot help but wonder what he sees. Does he see himself as he was long ago? A young man full of hope and dreams for a better future? Or does he see what I suddenly realize? An old man, beaten down by life and so terribly afraid. When did he cease to be my hero and become everything that I didn’t even know I was fighting against until now?

He looks at me through the mirror. “I was happy. Your gran and I were. All we needed were each other and this place … It was enough.”

“Not for me…” I shake my head. “I want more. I want a better life. I want hope.”

His shoulders sag and he sighs. There’s water in the bowl, but not much since I’d washed my clothes. There is, however, enough for him to splash on his face, and he does so, taking his time to pat it dry before he turns to me. “James will still have you. He told me so today.”

I shake my head. “James betrayed me to the others. I can’t trust him.”

“It can come if you give it time.”

“No. Never.” I look at my grandfather. On this one thing I will not change. I’d rather spend the rest of my life alone.

“You’ll change your mind eventually.”

It’s as if I’ve never said a word.

“They’re waiting on us.”

“What should I do?” I may not agree with him, but he’s still my grandfather. What I do affects him also. I don’t want to hurt him any more than he’s been. First my mother disappointed him, then me. It’s a horrible legacy. One I never realized until now.

“Don’t tell them about Alex getting out. It will start a war that we can’t win.”

My heart swells in my chest. “You believe me?”

“I believe that you believe it.”

I suddenly realize that for my grandfather and me it goes both ways. He’s as disappointed in me as I am in him. He had expectations for my life, just as I did. Maybe they weren’t so different from each other. Maybe the results were supposed to be the same. Maybe we were both focused on different tunnels to the same destination.

Worst of all, maybe we’re both wrong. And if we are, then what does that leave for us? A war we can’t win? An empty life until my lungs shrivel up and die inside of me?

Lucy asked me to tell Alex’s parents he got out. Would it change anything for them, knowing it? Would it change anything for any of us?

All I have to do is look inside myself for the answer. Yes, it would.

*   *   *

The first person I see when I walk into the council chamber with my grandfather is James. He stands beside Adam, whose seat is on the end of the carved bench as he’s the youngest of the elders. Jasper, who is the head, sits in the middle and Mary sits to his left. The rest take up their positions according to their rank. Hans, Frank, and Rosalyn. My grandfather takes the seat to Jasper’s right, which surprises me as I thought he would not be allowed to participate since I was the one called. Seven elders watch me as I take my place on the seat in the middle of the chamber. James watches me also. Was it just last night that he betrayed me? Was it the night before that when he kissed me?

I feel like a lifetime has passed since both. One has. Alex’s. More than one. The two filchers who were killed. Nearly mine and Pace’s also. Too many lives sacrificed in such a short time. Is it worth it? Only if we’re able to leave the dome. Only if we survive.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Jasper asks.

I look at my grandfather. His expression does not change so I look back to Jasper. “Two filchers came below looking for me and you killed them.”

“Why are they looking for you?”

“They think I know where Alex got out.” That he got out is not in dispute. That he got out into a world that was not on fire is. I can only think of how sad it is that my grandfather thinks that it is better to live your life not knowing there is a world with a blue sky outside the dome.

“Why do they think that?” Jasper continues.

“Because he spoke to me before he died.”

“What did he say?”

They already know this. Why do we have to go through it again? The first time I was called to council I was afraid. Now I find that I’m impatient. Lives are at stake and they’re wasting time. I can’t stop thinking about Pace. Is he safe? Is he where I left him or has he moved in an effort to find food and water? The dream that had me in its grip when my grandfather woke me suddenly comes back to me: Pace falling into the pit as he stumbled about in the tunnels in an attempt to find me.

“The sky is blue.” I look once more to my grandfather. His face is immobile, as if it is carved from stone, but I see his eyes imploring me.

“We’ve already heard this,” Mary says. “Tell us about this boy.” She picks up the paper with our names and waves it before me. “What is your relationship with him?”

I can’t give anything away. Pace is the only one who knows how to get out. As I look at the council, all of their eyes on me, I realize that out is the only recourse I have. Above is certain death for both of us and life below is not a kind alternative for either of us.

“He chased me the day Alex died. He’s a bluecoat.”
Was a bluecoat …

“Lies!” James interjects.

“Silence!” Jasper shouts. “You have no say here.”

“I killed to protect her.” James steps out to the center of the cave. “That gives me a right to speak.”

James killed them.
I would not have thought him capable of it. I didn’t think him capable of the horrible things he said to me either. Isn’t it funny how you think you know someone and then you realize you don’t. Not really.

“I didn’t ask you to.” I jump to my feet and face James. “Or expect you to. I can take care of myself.” His hostility washes over me as if I fell in the stream and I return it, bitterly angry at his betrayal. Yet Grandfather said he asked for me. I don’t understand why when his hatred is so evident.

“Enough!” Jasper holds up his hand. “When one of us is attacked we all are.” He points to me. “Sit.” And James. “Quiet and back to your place or you will be removed.”

I sit, rebelliously. I don’t want to sit. I want to go, but I know Jasper is right. Because of me the filchers came below. Because of me James has blood on his hands. Did he kill to protect me? Or just because the opportunity arose?

“Answer Mary’s question,” Jasper says.

“The first time I saw Pace Bratton was the day Alex died.” I look directly at James as I speak. “I saw him again the next morning when I went above. He followed me. That must be when they saw us together. He tried to talk to me.”