She waited for her Smartscreen to appear, her muscles rigid with anticipation. She tried her pass codes. She tried to reset the system, the same thing she’d done in Ag 6. Nothing appeared. No “Songbird” file. No icons. She was simply looking through the clear patch, seeing the bleak earth fading into darkness and the sky moving with Aether.
The Outsider loomed over her. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing,” she said as a raw ache built in her throat. “It’s not responding. I thought . . . I thought they might have linked it back up, but I don’t see anything. Maybe it shorted out in the storm. I don’t know. ”
He muttered something, shoving a hand into his hair. Desperately Aria ran through more commands as the Outsider paced. Every failed attempt brought her closer to crying. The Outsider stopped, turning toward her. What now? Was he going to leave her there? Or worse?
“I need that back, Mole. ”
“I told you it doesn’t work!”
“I’m going to get it fixed. ”
Aria couldn’t hold back a sputter of laughter. “You know how to fix this?”
His glare was scathing. “I know someone who can. ”
She still couldn’t believe it. “You know a person—an Outsider—who can fix this?”
“Do you have to hear everything twice, Dweller? I’ll be back in less than two weeks. There’s enough food and water in there to last you. Just stay put. No one comes out this way. Not this time of year. Have that thing off by the time I’m done packing. ” He strode back into the cave.
Aria rushed after him, staying close enough to follow the pale streaks of his hair through the gloom. The fire had dwindled to embers. He tossed a piece of wood onto them, sending a scatter of cinders upward.
“I’m not staying here alone for a week. Or two weeks, or whatever. ”
He moved to one of the cases and began stuffing things into a leather bag. “You’ll be safer here. ”
“No. I’m not staying! I may not live—” Her voice broke. “I may not have that long. My immune system isn’t made for out here. Two weeks might be too late. If you want my help, I need to come. ”
He considered this awhile. He set his bag on the ground. “I won’t slow down for you. That means walking days on those. ” He nodded at her feet.
“You won’t have to slow down,” she said, relieved. At least she wouldn’t be left alone or separated from her Smarteye.
He sent her a skeptical look and then opened another case. The fire was burning again, illuminating the rough walls of the cave. As he turned away, she noticed he had a patch of blue bruising beneath one arm that spread across his ribs. Aria watched the way the tattoo on his back moved as he moved. She was a falcon too. Her voice had a broad range, but in opera she was categorized as a falcon soprano. That’s where Lumina got her nickname. Aria shuddered at the coincidence.
“Does that have some sort of meaning?” she asked.
He took garments from the crate and shook them out. They were army fatigues from the time of the Unity. Camouflaged cargo pants and button-down shirt. He tossed them to her. “Clothes. ”
She dodged aside and then peered at the coarse mounds of material. “Can we boil them first?”
No answer again. She slipped into the shadows and pulled them on, moving as fast as she could. They were huge on her, but warmer and easier to move in. She rolled and tied them at her wrists and ankles and used the gauze as a belt again.
She stepped back toward the firelight. The Outsider was sitting where he’d been before. He had on a dark leather vest, similar to the kind boys wore in Gladiator Realms. Another navy blanket like hers was rolled up at his side.
He took quick stock of the adjustments she’d made to the clothes. “There’s food in those,” he said, nodding to a row of jars he’d set by the fire. “One’s filled with water. ”
“Aren’t we leaving?”
“I’ve seen the way you move through the dark. We’ll sleep now and travel by day. ”
He lay down and closed his eyes as if that were that.
She drank some water but couldn’t manage more than a few pieces of the dried fruit. The figs were too grainy, sticking to her throat, and the constant swirl of anxiety in her stomach didn’t allow room for hunger. Aria leaned back against the cold granite. The soles of her feet throbbed. She was sure she’d never be able to sleep.
The Outsider didn’t seem to have any trouble with it. She could look at him more closely now that he was asleep. He was covered with imperfections. A faded blue bruise spread over one cheek, matching the one she’d seen on his ribs. Pale scars hashed small lines through the scruff on his jaw. His nose was on the long side and had a bend toward the top, where it had probably been broken more than once. It was a nose fit for a gladiator.
The Outsider peered at her. Aria froze as their eyes locked. He was human. She knew that. But there was something soulless about his bright stare. Without a word, he turned so he faced away from her.