repairing the White Room. If they have, that’s where he’ll be. We won’t be able to talk our way inside like the night Rueful was taken there.
“Tobin.” Marina taps my elbow. “We have a problem. Look—embers.”
She points to bits of burning grass floating through the air, too light to land before they’re snuffed out.
“Watch fires,” she says, grabbing Rueful’s hand. He draws back.
“They’re using them to fill the gaps where the Arc’s dimmer,” I explain. “That means heavy patrols—two watch the boundary, another two tend the fire. We can’t go that way.”
“Between is not safe,” Rueful says. “Choose a home—yours or ours.”
“We already chose. Follow me.” I head back for the brighter part of the Arc and then tuck myself behind one of the felled trees, where I’ve got a clear view.
“They can’t cross here,” Marina says.
“If security’s pumping this much power into the lamps, then they’re going to have skips.”
“What’s a skip?”
“Watch,” I say, waiting for the signs of an oncoming power cut. An embedded lamp flickers, sputters, then dies, leaving a narrow access point. “The connections are weak. I’ve counted that pattern out for four nights straight. It always cuts a ground light.”
“I guess you really are the guy to call if I want someone skilled at watching lights flick on and off.”
The light hums loudly, fizzling as the current floods through it again, and a column of bright white threads into the rest of the barrier.
“How often does that happen?”
“Every time they push the power. The blackout’s random, but you’ll see the top lamps flicker. The light below them goes dark.”
“Will we have enough time to make it across before the lights come on again?”
“We should,” I say, turning to Rue and Schuyler. “But we still have to watch for patrols.”
To prove the point, Mindy Olivet tromps by with her partner.
They stop near our glitch-point, scanning the area, and I stop breathing. Marina shrinks away from the guards’ shadows, but our stump’s not much cover. The lights have thinned the fog. Mindy will see us for sure.
Rueful grabs Marina, cupping his hand over her mouth.
“What are you— mmph .”
A hand clamps my mouth, too.
“Mmph!” I try to pry Schuyler’s hand off, but it’s stronger than cement.
The haphazard lattice of lines and dots from his hand passes to mine and morphs to mimic the mist, matching my skin to his and burying us both beneath a layer of artificial color. My face tingles with sleeping nerves as those things try to talk to me.
I’m Fading—like one of them .
Get off! Get off me!
I fight his grip, but he won’t let go, and the guards can’t see us.
Calm. No danger. Concealment, he insists.
Mindy hears something, and she shines a light our way, but it’s only the flashlight, not the infrared.
“Nineteen clear,” she says into her radio. “Proceeding to twenty.”
She and her partner move on. My skin reappears as Schuyler collects his nanites and lets me go. I shove him as far as I can.
“ Never do that again. I don’t want those things anywhere near me!”
I’m shaking and can’t stop. The last human he touched was Trey, and now Trey’s eyes are shining. I don’t want eyes like that. I can’t live with people looking at me like they do my dad.
“It’s okay,” Marina says, reaching for my arm, but I jerk away.
I don’t want to be touched by anyone right now, not even her. She had nanites on her, too, and they could still be there, ready to jump.
“They were helping,” she says.
“I don’t want their help.” I gulp air, trying not to hyperventilate. The creeping chill of fading still sticks to me like cold slime. “I don’t want them here. I don’t want anything from them at all.”
Anything else. I already owe Rueful for saving my life.
“Blinking,” Schuyler says, getting our attention.
The lamps are dimming. When they settle, the one in the center
“Tobin.” Marina taps my elbow. “We have a problem. Look—embers.”
She points to bits of burning grass floating through the air, too light to land before they’re snuffed out.
“Watch fires,” she says, grabbing Rueful’s hand. He draws back.
“They’re using them to fill the gaps where the Arc’s dimmer,” I explain. “That means heavy patrols—two watch the boundary, another two tend the fire. We can’t go that way.”
“Between is not safe,” Rueful says. “Choose a home—yours or ours.”
“We already chose. Follow me.” I head back for the brighter part of the Arc and then tuck myself behind one of the felled trees, where I’ve got a clear view.
“They can’t cross here,” Marina says.
“If security’s pumping this much power into the lamps, then they’re going to have skips.”
“What’s a skip?”
“Watch,” I say, waiting for the signs of an oncoming power cut. An embedded lamp flickers, sputters, then dies, leaving a narrow access point. “The connections are weak. I’ve counted that pattern out for four nights straight. It always cuts a ground light.”
“I guess you really are the guy to call if I want someone skilled at watching lights flick on and off.”
The light hums loudly, fizzling as the current floods through it again, and a column of bright white threads into the rest of the barrier.
“How often does that happen?”
“Every time they push the power. The blackout’s random, but you’ll see the top lamps flicker. The light below them goes dark.”
“Will we have enough time to make it across before the lights come on again?”
“We should,” I say, turning to Rue and Schuyler. “But we still have to watch for patrols.”
To prove the point, Mindy Olivet tromps by with her partner.
They stop near our glitch-point, scanning the area, and I stop breathing. Marina shrinks away from the guards’ shadows, but our stump’s not much cover. The lights have thinned the fog. Mindy will see us for sure.
Rueful grabs Marina, cupping his hand over her mouth.
“What are you— mmph .”
A hand clamps my mouth, too.
“Mmph!” I try to pry Schuyler’s hand off, but it’s stronger than cement.
The haphazard lattice of lines and dots from his hand passes to mine and morphs to mimic the mist, matching my skin to his and burying us both beneath a layer of artificial color. My face tingles with sleeping nerves as those things try to talk to me.
I’m Fading—like one of them .
Get off! Get off me!
I fight his grip, but he won’t let go, and the guards can’t see us.
Calm. No danger. Concealment, he insists.
Mindy hears something, and she shines a light our way, but it’s only the flashlight, not the infrared.
“Nineteen clear,” she says into her radio. “Proceeding to twenty.”
She and her partner move on. My skin reappears as Schuyler collects his nanites and lets me go. I shove him as far as I can.
“ Never do that again. I don’t want those things anywhere near me!”
I’m shaking and can’t stop. The last human he touched was Trey, and now Trey’s eyes are shining. I don’t want eyes like that. I can’t live with people looking at me like they do my dad.
“It’s okay,” Marina says, reaching for my arm, but I jerk away.
I don’t want to be touched by anyone right now, not even her. She had nanites on her, too, and they could still be there, ready to jump.
“They were helping,” she says.
“I don’t want their help.” I gulp air, trying not to hyperventilate. The creeping chill of fading still sticks to me like cold slime. “I don’t want them here. I don’t want anything from them at all.”
Anything else. I already owe Rueful for saving my life.
“Blinking,” Schuyler says, getting our attention.
The lamps are dimming. When they settle, the one in the center
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