Ashes of Twilight (23 page)

He sputters. “What?”

“I said no of course.”

Pace shakes his head in disbelief. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t love him,” I say simply. I get the feeling he wants to say more but he doesn’t. Instead he takes the lamp and pail I brought from home and places them with the others.

“I should change out of this dress,” I say.

Pace picks up the pail and lamp. “I’ll go get some water.”

I start to call after him, start to tell him to stay inside, where it is safe, to not take the risk but I don’t. I don’t think anyone will be roaming around tonight, except for the guards stationed at the cross tunnels close to the hatches. Later, when people get tired of the strike, they will wander, but for now I think we are safe.

I turn on the other lamp before I take off the lovely blue dress and put my work clothes back on. I don’t know what to do with the dress, I don’t want to mess it up but there’s no place to hang it. Finally I fold it as neatly as I can and place it on top of the pile of clothes and set them against the wall. I set all the toiletries on the rock and lean the mirror against the wall behind it. Then I spread the two quilts out. Cat protests again at this interruption and waits until I have things arranged how I want before lying back down, right in the middle of them.

Pace is sitting on the ledge with his back against one side of the cave wall and his feet propped on the other. I crouch down next to him, inside the cave, and look out into the darkness. The lamp is as low as it will go and still put out a bit of light. It gives me some reassurance to know that he’s using his head.

“Ever since I found that board I’ve been thinking about the river,” he says. “Is there anything else lying out there, that came from someplace else? Where does the river start? Where does it end? Where does it go?”

“Does it go outside?” I finish for him.

He puts his arm around me and I lean into him. “Or does it fall deeper into the earth?” His questions echo my own. “I’m glad you didn’t get married, Wren. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have.”

“I couldn’t.”

He puts his chin on top of my head. Being here with him feels so right, so natural, like breathing and walking and talking. “They will find me eventually,” he says.

“Which is why we have to find the way out first.”

I feel his heavy sigh on my cheek. “Do you really think it’s worth the risk?”

I sit up so I can look at him. “Don’t you?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt. I’d rather think about you living and having children, and growing old, and,” he smiles, “thinking about me occasionally.”

“It’s too late for that now. Too much has changed. I’ve changed. I could never be content living down here, knowing there is an entire world out there.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“Don’t you?” I turn so I am facing him. “I feel it here.” I touch my heart. “I just know it’s out there. A big blue sky and trees and real grass and an ocean that goes on forever.”

“I believe it is there too, it’s just that I’m not sure if it is worth your life to prove it.”

“If not this then what? What could be more important than this? There’s got to be something more to this life than what’s been decreed to us for the past two hundred years. If not, then why bother?”

“Wren, you’re not listening to me…”

I start to protest but he stops me by taking my wrists into his hands. Funny how I don’t mind when he touches me in such a possessive way, but let James try it and I cringe. I look into his beautiful blue eyes.

“I agree with what you’re saying, Wren. My point is I don’t want you to die because of it. I know my life is a given, that as soon as they find me I’m dead. I can only hope and pray that it’s fast and not like what they did to Alex or Tom. And it will all be worth it, if I know that you’re safe. I’ll go upside right now and tell everyone that there is a way out and we’re all being held prisoner, as long as I know that you’ll be all right.”

“Pace…” My heart swells at his words, the sweetest words I’ve ever heard, yet also so tragic and without hope.

He pulls me to him and kisses me, hungrily, possessively, as if he is going to die in the next minute and I’m the only thing that can save him. The kisses we shared before were good, but this kiss, this desperation, is overwhelming. My insides catch fire and I cling to him, once more not able to get close enough to satisfy the burning that courses through my veins.

More … I want more …
Pace pulls me into his lap without stopping the kiss. I love the way he holds me, the way he moves me, tenderly and gently, but without effort, as if I’m a bird in the palm of his hand that he wants to keep safe, yet he doesn’t want to hurt if it decides to fly free.

His touch shows he wants me, but it doesn’t trap me; it gives me the freedom to make the choice. And I choose him. I chose him the second I held out my hand to him when he asked me to help. And live or die, he will always be my choice.

Please, God, let it be live.

He is stronger than me, much stronger because he stops the kissing and leans his forehead against mine in a position that has suddenly become so dear to me. “I’m not like the ones you left behind,” he says after a moment.

“What do you mean?”

“They put conditions on you. You could stay if you married someone. I won’t do that. I won’t make you think you have to do something you’re not ready to do because you’re here with me.”

I start to protest, to say I am ready, but deep down I know I’m not. There are too many uncertainties, too many things that have happened in too short of a time. I slide off his lap and once more sit by his side with my head on his shoulder and his arm around me.

“I wonder where it goes,” Pace says after a long moment.

Another question without an answer. For the moment, I am content with not knowing.

20

I
learn more
about the history of the world from Pace. He has this amazing way of telling it, as if it’s a story, which keeps me captivated for hours. He tells me of a kingdom long ago called Camelot. He tells me that we live on an island called Great Britain in a part of it called Wales. He tells me of an exciting country across the sea called America. He tells me about different countries that speak different languages and about people who have skin a different color from ours. He tells me about exotic animals that I’ve only seen pictures of. Elephants and giraffes and bears and cats that are larger than any man. He uses the slate to draw pictures of castles and great sailing ships and the animals. His pictures amaze me even though they are the barest of sketches. I wonder what he could do with paint and a canvas. I have heard that the royals own wonderful paintings with bright colors that depict people and scenes from the world that was. Once more I am stunned by how unfair it is that they have everything and we are nothing more than servants to their way of life.

I cannot help but wonder if any of these people or places or animals that Pace speaks of and draws survived the comet. I dream that night of castles and large animals being consumed by flames as I watch from a glass cage that hangs above the fire, much as Pip’s cage hangs from a hook. In my dream I beat against the glass and scream because I’m roasting inside, but no one hears me. They are all too busy trying to run from the flames. I wake with a start.

I lay next to Pace on our makeshift bed. I’m against the cave wall, and he is on the outside, something he insisted on, to protect me, in case someone discovers us. Cat lays half on, half off my legs and Pip, who also entertained me with his new tricks, is in his cage. The lamp is turned down low and casts a soft glow across our little nest.

Pace lies on his side, facing me. His hand is tangled in my hair and his mouth partially open as he breathes softly. A slight stubble darkens his cheek but it is still supple beneath my hand as I stroke his cheek. He doesn’t move, just sighs, and a quick smile dances across his lips.

He asked if I would take him back to the glow fish, for a bath, and to learn how to swim. I am torn because I know the people of the village will get restless the longer the strike lasts. But I also want to make him happy and there is little enough down here for him to do.

My body clock insists that I should be up now and working. My grandfather’s watch confirms it. It is almost midnight and I would normally be halfway through my shift and eating my lunch. I’ve caught up on my sleep and need to move and do something. I pull my hair as carefully as possible from Pace’s hand and creep from the bed. Cat, disturbed by my movement, mews sleepily and curls up against Pace’s bent knees.

We will eventually need food. I need to make an appearance, to remind everyone that I am still alive and make a contribution by work in order to eat. I decide to go to the stables to check on the ponies.

The tunnels are so quiet. Even though I am not on the usual path, there is usually the knowledge that people are about, doing their jobs, traveling back and forth from whatever tunnel is being mined to the village and onward to the lifts, whatever their work entails. Tonight the stillness is ominous, as if even the mine is waiting for something to happen. The noise of a pebble skipping ahead of my boots is enough to make me jump, and it seems as if the support joists creak with the strain of the weight they bear as I pass through them.

The ponies are happy to see me. They whicker as soon as they catch my scent and put their heads out of their stalls in anticipation of my arrival. I touch their heads as I walk through, greeting each one in turn. The chickens stare at me sleepily with their beady eyes and ruffle their feathers before settling back into their sleep.

I let the ponies out. I lead Ghost, confident that the rest will follow, down into the mine to give them exercise. It is their current route so they won’t be hesitant, even without the familiarity of their harnesses. I find Hans at the current dig site. He is the night-shift supervisor, so it makes sense that he would be as restless as me.

“Where have you settled, Wren?” he asks. He stands in the middle of the dig site with a chunk of coal and tosses it back and forth between his hands.

“A cave,” I say simply. I am not about to offer details in case someone decides to come looking for me.

Hans grins. “You are as cryptic as your grandfather. Everything with him was on a need-to-know basis. I reckon you don’t think I need to know.”

I can’t help but smile. “Nope,” I say. “You don’t.” I’m pleased at the comparison. I’d never realized it before, but he is right. I tend to keep my thoughts to myself. Except with Pace …

“You take all the time you need, gel. When you’re ready to come back, we’ll find a place for you.”

“Thank you,” I say, genuinely grateful for the offer even though I know that it will never come to fruition. My gratitude is also tinged in guilt as I am certain he wouldn’t be so kind if he knew I had Pace below. I turn the ponies to make the return trip to the stables.

Would he feel the same as my grandfather? Could I go before council and tell them everything, including the fact that I have Pace hidden? Their reaction from my first time tells me no. The questions I asked when they interrogated me about Alex’s death went unanswered.

Maybe it’s because they
are
council. They have the difficult job of making the choices that are best for the whole, not just one or two. What I consider to be best for Pace and me would not benefit the village, it would only harm it.

This is something I have to do on my own.

Once we are back at the stables, I feed and water the ponies, clean out their stalls, and leave them with a reassuring pat that I will be back tomorrow and take the circuitous route back to Pace. Now would be a good time to take him to the glow fish to learn how to swim. Hans was the only person I saw while I was out. Everyone else is enjoying the luxury of a night without work and spending the time with their families and staying close to home. And looking forward to the wedding of Peggy and Adam. This day will be filled with preparations for both their families. I am torn about going to the ceremony. On the one hand, I don’t want to be anywhere near James, but on the other, Peggy is my friend.

I have plenty of time to decide.

I return to find Pace still asleep. He lies flat on his back with his arms thrown over his head and with Cat curled up on his chest. I can’t help but laugh at the sight of him, which rouses him from his sleep.

“Where did you go?” he asks as he stretches, which sends Cat looking for another pillow.

“I took care of my ponies,” I said.

“Ponies?”

“My job is to carry the coal in the pony carts from down in the mine to the lift. The ponies still need to be fed and watered even though we’re on strike. So I took care of them. No one is about, so if you want to learn to swim, now would be a good time.”

His grin is all the answer I need. I grab some soap and towels and we take off for the cave with the glow fish.

Pace is much more patient this trip through the tunnels. We have to go up and then back down and I wouldn’t let him take the lamp, just in case we came across someone. He holds on to my hand and follows my lead until we crawl through the low tunnel that leads up to the cave.

As soon as we get inside and see the light from the glow fish he grins broadly. Pace picks me up and swings me around and laughs. He amazes me with his capacity to find joy in the direst of circumstances. He carries me to the water and pretends like he’s going to drop me in, which makes me laugh, and I bury my face in his shoulder to quiet it.

If only we had met under different circumstances. If only we had a lifetime to get to know each other, instead of these few stolen moments. I could waste the precious time we have agonizing over what will more than likely happen, or I can embrace the here and the now.

Pace puts me down and goes about the business of shucking out of his clothes, down to his undershorts, much like he did the first time we came here. He takes the soap and wades out into the water. I take my time as I strip down to my underclothes. I sit on a rock and tie up my hair as he lathers with the soap and then lowers himself to rinse it off with the glow fish darting around the angles and planes of his hard body.