Birthmarked (38 page)

“We can t,” she said. “It’s a dead end. A death trap.”

“We have no other choice. We have to hide somewhere while we come up with a plan.”

He shoved the gate opened, and she flew in behind him. The wet gate closed with a click, and she looked fearfully toward the house. Gray, blank windows merged with the rain-soaked stucco, and she looked to Leon, surprised. “They’re gone?”

“They must be at my sister’s birthday party,” he said. He started toward the terrace, but Gaia shrank back.

“No, Leon. We can’t go in there.”

“We need shelter, Gaia. We have to figure something out.”

She backed away, shaking her head. “Let’s hide out here, in the garden, just until we can figure out a way to get out of the wall.” She sniffed as a big drop of rain fell against her lashes, and then she wiped it away.

“If you insist,” he said. “At least it should be dryer under the tree. Come on.”

She barely recognized the garden as he led her toward the back, toward the big pine tree. Light from a streetlamp flooded over the wall in one place, illuminating the wild cascades of rain, and the pummeling effect of the rain on the bushes and flowers, but otherwise the garden was a maze of drenched shadows. A gust of wind blasted into her face, stealing her breath, and she leaned into it.

“Here!” he said, and she squinted into the gloom. They had reached the giant pine and the deep, dry shadow beneath. She had to hunch to move beneath the lowest, sloping branches.

Maya let out a cry, and with her open mouth, the infant rubbed her cheek against her towel, rooting instinctively for food. Gaia wiped her finger on the wet fabric of her cloak and put her littlest finger upside down in the baby’s mouth. It was a trick shed learned from her mother, but it was still startling how hard the baby could suck.

“She needs a bottle,” Gaia said.

“We don’t have time.”

“I can’t exactly take a crying baby down the street.”

He frowned toward little Maya and the finger Gaia had in her mouth. “What do I do?”

Gaia told him to dig out one of the bottles of water and explained about adding the powdered formula and shaking the bottle to mix it.

To her left, a sheet of gray rain marked the edge of the cliff, and she could just make out the blurred buildings below. With Maya in her arms, she huddled to the ground. A few streams of rainwater ran through the dead, fragrant pine needles. When Leon handed her the bottle, she nudged it into Maya’s lips, and the baby latched on vigorously.

“Hungry little monster,” Gaia said softly. She licked the rainwater from her lips.

He was sitting on his haunches beside her. “Did you notice the guards didn’t take any shots at us back there?” he asked. “We were in range. I wonder if they have orders to capture us, not kill us. The Protectorat was willing to have us executed when he could do it quietly, but he might not want us gunned down in public.”

She glanced up from the baby to find Leon’s face near enough for her to see the individual drops along his cheek’ bones. “That’s good then, isn’t it?”

He squinted at her, nodding. “Yes. But they’ll have guards combing every corner of the Enclave and all around the wall, too.”

She thought this over and shivered.

He moved nearer and put an arm around her shoulders. “Gold?”

“Not so bad.”

He gave her shoulder a squeeze and then pulled her a bit nearer so that she could feel the warmth of his torso along her arm through the wet cloak.

“I think we might have a better chance if we split up,” he said.

“What?”

“They’re looking for the two of us together. If you just go yourself, right up to the south gate, like you have business outside the wall, you might be able to get close enough and then run.”

She blinked over at him. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“What do you think we should do, then?”

Gaia didn’t know. She wished there was a crowd. If they could get lost in a crowd, they might stand a chance. Maya was almost done with her bottle, and her eyes were closed as if she would slip right into sleep. “I don’t know,” Gaia said. “Isn’t there any other way out of the wall?” She remembered the way she’d come in originally, and the guard tower just above it. That would be no good. “Didn’t you say you got in by the solar grid plant?”

“That’s clear on the other side of the Enclave. We’d never get that far.”

“So there’s no way out.”

“Aside from blasting open our own hole, no.”

“How about where the wall meets the cliff? Could we go down the cliff?”

“Not unless you have a-- I don’t believe this. Where’s your rope?”

She let out a laugh. “I left it in the Bastion. With my mother.”

“It wouldn’t work anyway,” he said. “There are guard towers along the cliff, too.”

Gaia lifted her face as the rain lightened even further, and gazed out toward the cliff, to where she would see the unlake if the rain and the darkness didn’t obscure it. Night was falling, and the gleams of streetlamps shone below. “So, we’re stuck,” she said. “Do you still have the ledgers?”

“They’re right here,” he said.

She gazed at the hastily assembled basket of supplies, realizing she might never have the chance to use them all, few as they were. It was almost funny, in a way, to feel so safe for an instant while guards must be closing in on them from every direction. Something slowed down inside her and grew peaceful, as if she’d accepted a great boulder.

“I would have liked to get the list outside,” she said. “To the people in Wharfton. They have a right to know what happened to their babies.”

“Gaia. You sound like you’re giving up.”

It didn’t feel like that to her. It felt like she was facing her future realistically. She just hoped they could be killed quickly and not have to go through a scene in the Square of the Bastion with a formal execution. She wouldn’t like that. “It’s just reality, Leon. There’s no way out. The only one who could get us outside the wall tonight would be the Protectorat himself, or maybe Genevieve. And I don’t think they’d want to leave Evelyn’s birthday to offer us an escort,” she added wryly.

Leon loosened his arm from around her and stood. “Incredible,” he muttered.

“What?”

“We’ve been thinking like fugitives. We need to think like royalty.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Stay here,” he said.

“You’re not leaving me!” she said.

He crouched beside her again and gripped her shoulders. “Listen,” he said. “It’s the night of my sister’s party, right? The wealthiest people from the Enclave are out tonight, heading toward the Bastion. The guards are looking for us in red, desperate and soaked. All we need to do is dress in white, Gaia. We just have to act like we’re part of the guest list. Guards would never stop a couple in white.”

The peaceful boulder began to break up around her heart, letting hope in again, and with it fear.

“But what about the baby? What about my face?”

Leon stood and helped her to her feet. “It will all work out,” he said. “Gome on.”

She gathered her sleeping sister more closely in her arms as he lifted the basket of supplies, and then they were hurrying through the garden toward the house. The rain had lessened to a drizzle, and a roll of thunder was more distant. Even though she knew that the house was lightless and empty, it still frightened her to creep up onto the terrace. With a stone, Leon made a sharp tap against one of the windows of a French door to break the glass. A moment later, he had the door open and they were inside. It was hard to see more than the forms of furniture and the openings of doorways, but Leon seemed to know his way, and she followed him up the stairs to a bed’ room.

“How do you know this place?” she asked.

“One of my friends from school lives here. Tim Quirk. His family is friends with my family. I’ve been here a hundred times, though not lately.” He was closing the curtains, blocking out the last bit of light, and a moment later she heard a click as he pulled a light switch in the closet. Gaia was afraid to touch anything, especially once she saw that everything in the closet was white with only the slightest other pastel shades for accents. There were special shelves for hats, and a dozen compartments just for shoes.

“Here,” Leon said. “Pick something out. I’ll get something from Tim’s room.”

“I don’t have the least idea what to wear,” Gaia said.

He turned to her, frowning, and she could just imagine the picture she made, dripping wet, in the red cape and with a baby rolled in blankets in her arms. Her hair was wet and probably messed, and under a layer of mud, she still wore Jet’s bloodstained trousers and her improvised sheet skirt.

“I wish we had time for showers,” he muttered.

She laughed. “Well, we don’t. Let’s not think that much like royalty.”

Leon turned again to the closet and whipped out a long, slender, creamy sweater with soft, narrow sleeves. Next he pulled out a white dress that would sweep below her knees. “The style’s probably not right for a young girl like you, but it’s all we have. Here’s a cape. I don’t think it’s waterproof, but the rain’s stopping, I think, and it has a good hood. Can you pick out some shoes?”

“How about the boots?” she asked, pointing down at the row of boots, some tall, some ankle-high, all in spotless white.

“Let’s hope they fit,” he said, and pulled out a pair of the low ones. They reminded Gaia of cowboy boots from the Tvaltar, but shorter, dainty.

“Okay,” she whispered, and let her red cape fall to the floor.

She couldn’t wait to get out of her snug, water-soaked clothes. She set the sleeping baby on top of the bundle. As she reached for the dress, she looked over her shoulder to see if Leon had left yet. He stood by the doorway, his eyes scanning her body with unguarded interest, and she wondered for a moment if he were judging whether the clothes would fit.

“What?” she said.

His gaze flew to hers, and then he turned sharply away.

“I’ll be right back,” he said.

That was … odd,
she thought.
To say the least.
Gaia stripped off her wet clothes and pulled on the dress. There were but’ tons along the back, and her cold fingers trembled as she snagged her hands behind her to reach them. In the dark, with only the light from the closet to guide her, she worked quickly, and then tiptoed in the little boots over to a full-length mirror that gleamed beside the bed. She looked over her shoulder to make sure she’d gotten all the buttons, and was surprised by the graceful way the white material clung to her form. She looked like someone else. Someone privileged. Especially with only the right side of her face to the mirror.

“You’re perfect,” Leon said.

She turned to see him in the doorway and smiled. Aside from his black boots, he was dressed in impeccable white, with a tailored jacket and trousers. He had hitched his blazer open to rest a fist on his hip, and she saw a short dagger that hung in a sheath from his belt: a fitting military accent. He gave his sleeve a twitch. “The coat’s a little short,” he said.

She laughed. “You look incredible. Certainly good enough to fool any guards. Now what about the baby?”

He produced a gilded bag made of paper. “I found this,” he said. “She might fit inside for a present.”

Gaia was doubtful.

“See if you can do something with your hair,” he said. “Like put it up or something? I don’t know. I’ll see what I can do with Maya.”

“Here. Let me do this much.” Maya’s blankets had come loose, and Gaia refolded them securely around her sister so that, from a compact little cocoon, only the baby’s face showed.

“Thanks,” Leon said.

Gaia stepped over to a dresser where she found a brush and a couple of clips. Hastily, she brushed the worst knots from her wet hair and swept the short strands up in back, securing them on top of her head as best she could. It felt strange to leave her face so exposed, but when she pulled on the sweater and then the white cape, she saw it looked passable. Her scar would only be noticeable to someone who looked directly into her hood, to her face.

“We’re good,” Leon said.

He was standing with a gift bag casually tucked in one arm.

“Can she breathe in there?” Gaia asked.

He tilted the bag to show her the baby’s sleeping face was upward, and the ledgers were tucked in with her, too. She looked cozy, warm, and content. Gaia couldn’t believe how tiny she was.

“It’s a little bulky, and there’s no room for formula,” he admitted. “But if she stays asleep and doesn’t move, we’ll be okay.”

We
just have to make, it outside the wall,
she thought. Nothing else mattered.

When he turned out the closet light, she naturally reached for his hand in the darkness. Together they crept back down the staircase and rounded the corner to the front door. Leon unlocked the door, and when he opened it part way, they looked out at a drizzle. A sconce light mounted on one of the entry way pillars lighted the path toward the road.

“It’s almost stopped,” she said.

“We should wait another minute,” he said.

She nodded, postponing the next plunge into risk by standing in the temporary shelter of the quiet, dark home. He released her fingers to reach for a white hat on a peg behind the door, but then he took her hand again and brought her close to his right side, tucking her fingers into his elbow. The baby parcel looked secure in his other arm.

“This is how we 11 walk,” he said.

“So you actually have a plan?”

She glanced up to meet his eyes under the white brim. He was regarding her with his usual concentration, but his mouth curved in the slightest smile.

“I have to say. I’m tempted to take you back to the Bastion and walk right into my sisters party. You belong there.”

She let out a laugh. “Now I know you’ve lost your mind.”

He tilted his face slightly. “I should have met you long ago.”

“Outside the wall?”

“There shouldn’t even be a wall in the first place,” he said.

“But there is,” she said, looking back out to the drizzle in the lamplight.

“Listen,” he said. “If something goes wrong, if we get separated, I want you to go ahead with your plan to go into the wasteland. Head north.”