21. Rebels With a Cause (Vaye)¶
Frost crunched under Vaye’s boots as she hurried across the melodramatically-named Courtyard of Desire. It was colder than usual, although Thelenza’s weather barely changed with the seasons. It was always cold in the mornings and evenings and always bright and vaguely drizzly throughout the day, the thin spiral of clouds merely thinner on sunnier days.
Gadarien turned around as he heard her approach, a crooked grin tilting his lips. “Late for class?”
She huffed out a laugh, her breath making a tiny cloud. “You’re out here, too, aren’t you?”
He looked around conspiratorially. “Actually, I’m skipping today. I needed to get outside and enjoy this fine weather.”
“It’s like this literally every day.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, well, theosophy lectures are boring. I’m breaking out. Want to come?”
Her stomach fluttered. She didn’t know what it was about him that made her feel like an infatuated adolescent. Maybe something about his voice, which slid over her like the silk they sold in the Cantereian Market. In any case, he was right. Vargashic Theosophy was guaranteed to be dull, and Preceptor Ypanti was notoriously soft-headed and wouldn’t notice their absence. “I could be convinced. But how do we get past the guards? We’re not supposed to leave except on dozenday break.”
“You have much to learn, young novitiate,” he said solemnly. “I will show you the way.”
She laughed. “Okay, Preceptor.”
Gadarien led her down the same flight of stairs she took to get to the Hall of Vapors, but turned left down a short side passage that terminated in a rusty door. Gesturing for her to keep watch, he crouched down by the lock and jiggled the handle, humming quietly until something clicked and the door swung open.
The tunnel beyond was cramped, musty, and entirely unlit. “What’s down there?” Vaye said. The confined space made her anxious, but the idea of being alone in the dark with Gadarien made her anxious in an entirely different way.
He glanced back, one eyebrow cocked. “Nothing to be afraid of. There aren’t any Cantereian bandits this close to the School. Except me, of course.” The Preceptors had warned the novitiates to avoid the sobração, painting it as a lawless underground teeming with thieves, kidnappers, and terrorists. According to Yobaza, a pair of novitiates had disappeared into the tunnels two years prior. Their bloody uniforms had been found days later, containing only their severed hands and feet. When Vaye had asked Gadarien about it, he had joked that the noodle broth in the sobração was the best in the city. “If they make you into soup, I promise not to eat any,” Gadarien said.
“No, just enjoy me,” Vaye replied. “I wouldn’t want to go to waste.”
Gadarien laughed and held out his hand. She took it, her pulse quickening. His palm was cool and dry, his fingers pleasantly rough as they wrapped around hers. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Cantereians can see in the dark.”
“I trust you, liar,” Vaye said.
Grinning, he closed the door and led her into the darkness. He strolled around the bends at a confident pace, humming a tune that seemed oddly familiar. She clung to his hand, trailing her other fingers along the rough contours of the wall. Either he really could see in the dark or he had the route memorized. “Wow, you really know your way around down here,” she commented. Her voice sounded strange and close as it bounced off the walls.
Gadarien slowed, pausing his humming. “I’ve only been in Thelenza for a year, but my people have lived down here a long time. We built these tunnels.”
“I’ve spent a fair bit of time in the sobração myself,” Vaye said. “But I’d love to see your favorite spots.”
“I’ll show you sometime.” He resumed humming, picking up the pace once more.
She closed her eyes, since she couldn’t see anything anyway. Vaye didn’t remember the last time she’d let herself be led around like this, probably not since her mother had died. She was hard-pressed to explain it, but Gadarien exuded a sense of welcome, a feeling of warmth she couldn’t resist, or didn’t want to.
They reached the end of the tunnel and Gadarien released her hand with a quick squeeze. He fiddled with the door, popping it open with a grunt, and Vaye squinted at the blast of daylight and cold air. They emerged onto a small balcony surrounded by a chest-high stone wall, overlooking a glorious view of the city. Stairs were carved into the steep hillside, leading to a narrow alley below. Beyond the old wall of the Velhade, a wispy spiral of mist floated above the rooftops, its whiteness turned to dark gray where the Eyewall cast its shadow across the southern half.
Gadarien sat on a low bench, stretching in the sun like a cat. Vaye chuckled and sat beside him, drawing one leg beneath herself. “Nice secret spot you’ve got here,” she said.
He shrugged, reaching into his pack. “Not so secret. All the Preceptors know about it. They used to come out here when they were novitiates, either to sneak down to the city or to do this.” He produced a wooden nownow pipe with a wink, then raised an eyebrow at Vaye’s wide-eyed expression. “You disapprove?”
“Not at all,” she said, composing herself. The sight of the pipe and the whiff of nownow that accompanied it had taken her by surprise, although she wasn’t sure why. Nownow was a common indulgence all over the empire, balm to the disenfranchised and secret vice of the upper class. But the drug was forbidden at the School, and Vaye hadn’t seen anyone smoke it since she’d enrolled.
“Do you mind?” Gadarien said.
“I just... It’s kind of a religious thing for me,” she said. “Sorry.”
“Oh,” Gadarien said. It was the first time she had seen him truly discomfited. “Sorry, I didn’t know.” He began to put the pipe away.
“It’s okay,” Vaye said, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean—”
“You don’t need to apologize for your culture,” Gadarien said.
Vaye looked away. “Thank you. But seriously, go ahead. I’m not trying to spoil your fun.”
He nodded and took the pipe back out. “I’ll get high respectfully.”
“I can say a prayer over it, if you want,” she said, trying to smooth over the awkwardness.
“Sure!” Gadarien handed her the pipe, seeming relieved that he hadn’t offended her. “Does it make it work better?”
“You tell me.” Vaye closed her eyes and muttered her makeshift blessing, circling her hand over the bowl three times. When she was done, he took the pipe back reverently, as though her prayer had actually done something.
It was odd to watch someone else smoke nownow, to hear the crackle of the burning threads and smell the acrid-sweet smoke without feeling the accompanying rush herself. It felt like an invasion, as though she were watching him have sex. She tried to push that thought out of her mind and failed miserably.
Gadarien opened his eyes, smiling lazily before parting his lips and letting the smoke dribble up into the sky. His pupils were dilated wide, turning his green eyes black. “I think it helped,” he said muzzily.
“What?”
“Your prayer. I feel...” He paused, looking around at the bright afternoon. “High.”
Vaye laughed. “Yeah, that’s kind of how drugs work.”
“No, no, I mean... Uh, I’m not sure. It’s, uh, hard. To talk.”
She waved away his incoherent explanation. “Just enjoy yourself.”
He nodded and closed his eyes. A black bird with splashes of red under its wings fluttered to a stop on the wall, tilting its head and turning a shiny, judgemental eye toward her. Preceptor Ypanti had said that the Ilahin, Divine Guardians of Sarmala, kept watch over their people through the eyes of birds. But Vaye didn’t really care what the Ilahin thought. For her part, Grandmother’s avatars were said to be moths.
“You sure you don’t want any?” Gadarien said, startling both Vaye and the bird, who flew off in a huff. “It’s really good.”
“I’d like to, but...” Vaye looked down, wondering how much to tell him. She knew all too well how dangerous it could be to trust someone with her secrets. “Nownow isn’t just a drug for me. It takes me out of my head and puts me in a totally different place. I wouldn’t want to do that in front of you.”
“Well, I won’t try to talk you into anything you don’t want. But back home, we had a nice way of filtering it, smoothing it out for people who didn’t want something so intense.”
“Really? What kind of filter?”
“Me,” he said. “I breathe it in first, then exhale it into your mouth.”
The cold afternoon suddenly felt unaccountably warm. She knew she should turn him down, that it was foolish to even consider such a thing, but his sleeve was pushed up as he leaned forward, showing the lean muscularity of his mottled forearm, and the sunlight was making his eyes glow like an inviting forest path, and she hadn’t wanted something so badly in a very, very long time.
“Okay,” she said.
“Really? You want to try it?”
Vaye nodded, scooting closer before she could change her mind. She sheltered the pipe as he lit it and breathed in the stream of smoke. He beckoned her closer and placed his mouth on hers as he exhaled. She closed her eyes and felt his hand slide into her hair, laying her fingers on his knee as she breathed him in.
Beneath the smoke was the taste of Gadarien himself, a taste of life and rich earth. He had been right—filtering the smoke this way did make it less intense. Instead of being shot into the dreamworld like an arrow, she was able to cling to reality. But she felt the presence of Grandmother pulling at her, an inexorable second gravity tugging at her mind. Her hold on the moment began to slip and she started to fall, sliding down the steep slope toward the ravine of unconsciousness.
“Hey,” said Gadarien. His voice snapped her back into the present. “Stay with me.” She opened her eyes. He was close enough that she could see his individual eyelashes, the tiny translucent mole beneath his ear, the borders where the different shades of his skin met each other like nations on a map. The nownow eroded all but the solid core of the moment, a stark awareness of herself and Gadarien and nothing else.
She reached up and touched the slick burn scar on his cheek, feeling its contours, then pulled him close and kissed him, letting her tongue explore his. His teeth tugged at her lower lip, and then his hands were on her, and for a little while she forgot about the call she was ignoring.
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