Page 26

VALE

It goes on for days. My father breathing down my neck for more information about Amity. Her friend Zeph bugging me, worried sick. I can’t convince her to do more than shop together at the market.

She’s naturally slippery, not what I would expect from someone raised in the PS. She wears something different every day, but blends in with the people around her. A slim gray hoodie. A canvas coat. On a warmer day a tank top carelessly hugs her body.

She’s stronger than I thought, her muscles wiry.

I try not to stare. My first impression of her in the courthouse, scanning her wrist, I remember reaching down, but she’s pretty tall.

And she can look commanding when she sets her shoulders, pulls her face into that PS mask, and sets off through the market.

Ami’s careless about her safety, making small talk with men I avoid, stopping to chat with teenagers lounging around the entrance. When we talk, she asks about her friend.

“Is Zeph okay, can I see him?”

“He’s fine, and no. It’s not going to change,” I say curtly the third time she asks on a cloudy, humid day.

The world is tinged gray and Ami’s wearing a fraying leather jacket today over a black T-shirt. Her brown wavy hair is pulled back tight into a ponytail.

“Can you…” The usual frustration crosses her face. “Vale, please just tell me what to do. I need a chance to speak with him. Can I at least get his phone number?” she pleads.

I don’t like saying no to her, despite the amount of practice I have by now. She keeps demanding I take her to the Forge in the same careless way she chats up the weapons dealer, who she should definitely be avoiding.

She’s got an air of innocence, or she’s pulling the wool over my eyes.

Innocence can resemble fearlessness, and that’s how she comes off, teetering on the line in between.

I see the looks of respect she gets in the market now.

She shows up each day, talks to everyone, drinks her coffee, and picks up the food she takes back to wherever she’s staying.

Sometimes I find her by the farm stands, picking through buckets of asparagus and strawberries. Other times she’s by the woman selling shoes or in line for coffee. I stay with her until she slips away, still refusing to let me go with her.

I could follow her, of course. I should follow her with all the pressure on me to find out more about Amity Bloome, but for some reason I want her to trust me .

“Haven’t your…roommates,” I stumble over the words, “told you about the Forge?”

Ami gives that shrug, the one that could be careless or thoughtless or just a willingness to put herself in danger. Zeph says it’s because she doesn’t know any better and I worry that he’s right.

“Vale.” She leans lightly against me as we wait in the crowded line for coffee and I immediately relax. Is she doing this to me intentionally? “It’s not just Zeph. If I’m going to live up here I need to learn to defend myself.”

“Your roommates aren’t helping with that?”

She huffs. “They would, but they’re painting and writing all the time.”

“You certainly act like you can defend yourself,” I lean down to say in her ear. A shiver goes through her but she doesn’t put another inch between us.

“Just a front,” she whispers back, looking up at me through half-closed eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re falling for it too, Your Majesty .”

I cringe. “Don’t call me that,” I snap. Sometimes men call my father King, but I hate that.

“I see the way they treat you,” she says slyly, turning the conversation away from herself. “I see how they stare at you. You’re practically a prince around here.”

I turn away from her, in time to see several people quickly point their eyes to the ground. Okay, yeah.

“It’s not me,” I murmur back. “It’s my father.” Taking a chance, I tell her, “He wants to meet you…again.”

She swallows, and this time she looks worried. Good. Fear of my father is a healthy reaction.

“Why?” she asks .

We get to the front of the line. I buy us coffees and don’t miss the pleasure flickering across her face as she draws a deep breath of the steam coming off it, cuddling the cup to her chest.

“There’s nothing in it for you, I assure you,” I answer. “He probably wants to use you for the Forge.” I’m not sure why I’m telling her this. “Thinks he can get to the PS through you.”

“Maybe he can,” she says and keeps her gaze steady. We’ve slipped down into the alley, away from the crowd. When she says stuff like this I don’t know what to think. Is she really a deportee? Does she want to help the Forge or hurt it? She’s playing a dangerous game.

I don’t honestly care that much about my father’s organization. I have to serve him, serve his lieutenants, so I do it well and keep my place in the hierarchy. But frankly it seems just as corrupt as the PS and that corporation that runs Canada.

“Vale.” Ami lifts her head, and her deep blue eyes meet mine.

I like the way she says my name, the A high and wide before she slips into the L.

It’s how my father says it. He grew up in Baltimore too, but I like it better from her.

She takes my hand in hers and my breathing stops.

“The Forge may not be perfect, I’m not saying it is, but you train people to defend themselves, right? ”

I nod. It’s true, that’s a big part of what we do for those soft men we sneak out of the PS, if only so they can join us and fight for the Forge.

“I need that, Vale.”

“It’s not nice there, Ami, it’s not safe for you.” I don’t know if I can keep her safe .

That innocent shrug again. “It’s not safe anywhere, right? I might as well learn something besides paint colors and random words in Dena’ina.”

She waits, patiently, letting her argument sit. Her eyes are a rich blue. I lean down to get a better look at them, only to find my focus straying to her lips, which fall open a fraction.

I want to kiss her. Before I can act on it, I do something else, anything else. I do the thing that might change this dynamic and get me out of the frustrating dance we’re stuck in.

“Fine. Come with me.”

A shadow of something—disappointment maybe—flashes over her face, before she does that thing where she sets her shoulders and lifts her chin.

Her hands fidget slightly now, pulling the zipper on her jacket and tugging on the two full halves of her ponytail, tightening it into place.

I take her hand and bring her with me, out of the alley and up toward the West High School complex.

We walk up Spenard Road, and when we turn onto Hillcrest I stop moving. I take the baseball cap off my head and hand it to her.

“Put this on, pull it down,” I tell her and she nods, her eyes wide. She loops her ponytail through the back of the hat and pulls the rim low over her eyes. She takes a deep breath, a small smirk on her face.

“What?”

“It smells like you,” she says.

“Sorry,” I mutter.

She gives a slight shake of her head. “No, it’s nice. ”

Okay. I scan her up and down one more time before we turn the bend and approach the guard station at the bridge.

“Do you have a weapon on you?” I ask. Ami nods.

“They’ll find it. I can keep it in my backpack—they won’t search me.”

I say it more fiercely than I meant to. Her look is teasing.

She caught that little outburst of overprotection.

She pulls her jacket up, revealing a strip of smooth, tan skin and a sheath hooked onto the waistband.

Ami carefully unhooks the knife and hands it to me, then bends down to pull a switchblade out of her boot.

A chuckle escapes me. “Deadly, aren’t you?”

I tuck the knives into my bag and take a breath.

“I need you to give off your best don’t-mess-with-me vibe, okay? Let me see it.”

She tries to lift her chin and starts to giggle. She manages a straight face for a second before her shoulders shake. I throw up my hands in exasperation.

“That’s not it, Pepper.” There’s something infectious about the sound of her laugh and I’m starting to chuckle, too. Without thinking I pull a tough guy face at her and she doubles over, laughing breathlessly.

“I’m Vale, get out of my way,” she grunts, pulling the corners of her mouth down in a pout.

“I don’t sound like that!” I complain, scandalized.

I pretend to tighten an imaginary ponytail. “I’m Ami, and I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Hey.” She shoves me and dissolves in another fit of giggles.

“Oh my God, Ami, we cannot go into the Forge like this,” I say, wheezing .

“Of course we can,” she gasps. “Hey, all you Forge men,” she growls. “Don’t mess with us.”

I roll my eyes and lean against the light pole, waiting for her to pull herself together.

“Okay, okay.” She straightens her spine.

“Are you ready?” I say, one more chuckle escaping me.

She puts her tough face on. “Of course. Come on, Vale, this is serious.”

“Ami, don’t,” I warn, and I shove the laughter down before it overtakes me. We both shake ourselves out a little.

“Here we go,” I say. “Follow my lead, okay?”

She raises her eyebrows at me. Who knows how this is going to go? Maybe I’ll finally get some answers about what she’s up to.