Page 28

Story: The Art of Exile

27

Michael seems distant during Foundations. Or not distant , per se, just… normal. Like a teacher.

I hate it.

But there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask him, and I can’t sulk forever. I catch up with him as he’s leaving class.

“Hi.” He smiles politely at me. I have to take two steps for every one of his to keep up with his long stride.

“I heard a beautiful song last week,” I say. No need to mention with whom. “I was told the composer is… Yosef HaLevi?”

Michael lights up at the name, and he slows his pace just a little. “One of the greatest composers of our time.”

“Of our time? So he’s still alive?”

“No one knows. He hasn’t been heard from in many years, and it’s unknown whether he was in Naiot during the Fall.”

“So Yosef also had the Sight?” I ask as I follow Michael into the cafeteria.

“No. He was a Levite—a musician who played to help the prophets achieve a peaceful mind to receive their visions. And since he’s a Nazir, he also amplified their Sight.”

My head is spinning. “A Nazir?”

“It’s a rare genetic ability—even rarer than Sires. When a Nazir makes a vow to adhere to a strict code, they can amplify the strength of those around them.”

“What kind of code?”

“They vow to abstain from drinking alcohol, cutting their hair, or being in the presence of dead bodies.”

Michael fills his tray from the buffet, but I’m too distracted to get any lunch. I strain to remember the Sunday morning Hebrew school lessons my father insisted I attend. “Like Samson? And then Delilah cut his hair and he lost his power?”

“Yes. Samson is one of the most famous Nazirs given that his story is recorded in the Bible.”

“And you’re saying Nazirs give up these things for, like, ever?”

“If they choose to take the vow. But it’s a difficult commitment, and many Nazirs never do. I believe they still have some natural amplification abilities if they don’t break any of the criterion for a cycle of forty days. But if you’re so curious about Nazirs, you should ask Journey Vanguard. He was raised alongside the most famous Nazir in recent generations.” The precise angle of Michael’s brows when he says this makes it clear that he has a lot of questions about my association with said journey.

“Do you want to sit?” Michael gestures to the seat across from him, and I take it.

“You’re saying Prince Alexander is a Nazir?” I ask. I take a crunch-bomb from Michael’s plate, which he has graciously pushed in my direction. It’s a ball of brittle pastry and nuts drizzled in honey that crunches satisfyingly between my teeth, the honey making my bites sticky and slow.

“He is.”

“Is he also a Sire?”

“No. To be both is extremely rare. But Sire genetics are strong in the Vanguard family, which is consistent with the theory that Chorus—Prince Alexander’s partner—will be the mother of the Child of Three, the prophesied one who will be a Nazir, a Sire, and have the Sight.”

“Do you believe that prophecy? That their kid will end the exile?”

He takes a few moments to think before he answers. “I’ve always been taught that the recorded prophecies are meant to be a guide. So I believe there is a message in the prophecy, instructions—even if we don’t yet understand what they are. But I don’t think it’s any kind of promised future that is fated to happen.”

Interesting. “Has there ever been someone else with all three abilities?”

“There are conflicting accounts, but possibly Jesus.”

“Ohhh. Yeah, I’m definitely gonna have to ask Rafe more about this.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them.

Michael scowls. “I don’t understand what you’re doing with him.”

I swallow a sigh. “You two aren’t so different, you know.”

He looks up sharply. “I’m nothing like him.”

“You’re both highly principled—though your principles might be different—and you’re both fiercely loyal to your friends and family. You’re both passionate about music and politics, and—”

He cuts me off. “Oh please, I’m not purposely prejudiced and proud of it, and I don’t lead people on just to get them into bed.”

I steal another crunch-bomb and laugh.

“Why are you laughing at me?”

“Michael, you are completely emotionally promiscuous.” Georgie had used that term, and it has stuck with me ever since.

“What is that supposed to mean?” The vein in his temple throbs.

“Oh, come on. You might not be jumping in and out of beds, but you, like, merge hearts with people and then keep them dangling on a string as you move on and do the same thing to someone new.” I’ve had years of experience with Korach Chevalier to prepare me for Michael Loew.

His eyes look betrayed. “Being able to be open emotionally with my friends doesn’t make me… promiscuous.”

“I’m not saying you’re purposefully being an ass. I’m just pointing out that you’re not so innocent in the way you manipulate people.”

“Ada, that’s really harsh,” he says. And I know he’s right. I know I’m being a little cruel and that what I’m saying is only partially true. But there’s something inside me that wants to hurt him. That wants him to see that he hurts me every day.

“Sorry, I’m just calling it like I see it. Look at what you do to Kaylie.”

Michael sighs in exasperation. “My relationship with Kaylie isn’t like that.”

I scoff. “You totally use her as a stand-in for a girlfriend, even though she’s clearly hoping for more.”

“That’s not true!” There are twin spots of red on his cheeks. He takes a deep breath, and his throat bobs. He slumps back in his chair and lets out a breath. “Is that really what you think of me?”

“I…” I look away, guilt taking over. I shouldn’t be taking out my frustration on Michael just because I wish things were different. I try again. “I think you’re a great guy. I just don’t think you realize how your actions might sometimes be perceived.”

“And you think I’m hurting Kaylie?” he asks.

“Um… I mean, you don’t see her dating anyone else.” Grey has been positively mooning over her since the Simon-in-the-tree incident, but she hasn’t seemed to have noticed.

He piles his dishes on to his tray. “So, what?” He meets my eyes, almost accusingly. “You think I should date her?”

The crunch-bombs turn to lead in my stomach. But I remember his look when he dismissed me the other day. I know that my wishes are nothing more than wishful, so I say, “I think it’s not a bad idea.”

I lean back in my chair, the fight drained out of me. “And if it’s not what you want, then you should make that clear to her.” And to me.

He nods, then tenses as he looks over my shoulder.

I turn and see Rafe stalking over to our table. “There you are.” His voice is a low growl, his eyes as cool as sea glass. “Let’s go,” he says, and grips my wrist, tugging me up from my chair.

“Don’t order her around,” Michael says, reaching for my other hand.

“It’s okay,” I say to Michael. But he ignores me and stares at Rafe, seething. Rafe reaches over, and without breaking eye contact with Michael, he pries Michael’s fingers off my hand, puts his arm around my waist possessively, and herds me toward the door.

When we’re out of the room, I shake his arm off. “What was that about?”

“You asked me to be mindful of your reputation, and yet you have no problem having a—whatever that was, a lover’s quarrel?—with another person so publicly.”

“It’s not like that. He doesn’t see me that way.”

“And how do you see him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t insult me.”

“Don’t be so controlling.”

“I’m not trying to control you. It was you who said you wanted to pretend fidelity for the sake of your reputation, and yet you don’t seem to be considering mine.”

I sigh. “I’m sorry. Okay? There is nothing going on between Master Loew and me, but I will be more thoughtful about how things could be perceived going forward.”

“Much obliged.”

“Anyway, I think I’ve identified where Hypatia is being kept,” I say.

“What?” He stops in his tracks. “That’s amazing!” He grabs me by the shoulders as if to hug me. I’m surprised by the action, and from the look on his face, I think he is too. He clears his throat and says, “Let’s go to Sire lab early. I have something to show you.”

I haven’t had a proper lunch, but I did just eat all of Michael’s crunch-bombs. “Sure, let’s do it.”

We pass Georgie in the Equinox, and I watch her face fall as her gaze tracks us. She and I normally eat lunch together, but I’m clearly headed in the wrong direction with one of her least favorite people. Right after she’s gone out of her way to help me, no less. She waves stiffly, then hurries off. She has every right to be upset at me. I need to find some time for us to talk. I’ll make sure to catch her later tonight, when I can explain everything properly.

“What did you want to show me?” I ask Rafe when we arrive at the Sire lab. No one else is here yet.

“My plan for getting us off the island.” He pulls out a bundle from under our desk.

“That’s the plan?”

“It will have to do. I had a better plan, but the one Ha’i stone on this island has apparently gone missing.”

“What’s a Ha’i stone?” I ask. And who could be stealing things? I’m the most likely culprit, and I certainly haven’t taken any stones.

“The Blood Science guild’s high material. A Ha’i stone channels very concentrated amounts of Ha’i and can be wielded by anyone, even those without Sire abilities. They are extremely rare and difficult to make.”

“Ah,” I manage to say, but my brain has frozen.

Even those without Sire abilities can wield it to channel concentrated amounts of Ha’i. The Blood Science high material, which explains why no one at Genesis has info about it. This is it . What I was supposed to find for the Families. But someone else found it first.

The question is, who ?

Someone else must be up to something on this island besides me. I didn’t steal this Ha’i stone, and while I’m devastated to know that the Families have had a part in any of the abductions, they’re not the ones who took me. Twice.

I file away the information about the existence of the Ha’i stone for later. It’s not one of my current priorities anymore. Getting off this island to find out what’s going on with the Families, rescuing Hypatia, and bringing Rafe to help Grandfather are all that matter to me right now.

“This is the backup plan.” Rafe begins to unfurl his bundle. It takes me a moment to refocus and realize what it is.

“Is that Simon’s fold-up boat from his gallerie?” I ask, my adrenaline still humming.

“It is. Good lad, that one,” Rafe says with surprising affection.

“It didn’t work very well, as far as I recall.”

“True. But we’re going to fix it. We need a boat to reach the mainland.”

“Well, what do you need me to do, Your Highness?”

“Don’t call me that,” he says.

“But I’m here and ready to be bossed around, and you do so love telling me what to do.”

He rolls his eyes and puts me to work using spidersilk to fix the aspects of the boat prone to leaking. He does some intricate surgery on the motor. Work that clearly requires very steady hands as well as concentration. Or at least I gather as much from the way Rafe scowls at me whenever I move or breathe a little too forcefully for his liking.

“Must you do everything as inelegantly as an apprentice-made golem?” he demands in frustration.

“Sorry. I’ll try to be quieter,” I say, concentrating on a silent exhalation.

“I hate when you do that.”

“What? Apologize?”

“Act civilly toward me when I’m mean to you.”

“Of course I’m going to be civil with my lab partner and fake lover .”

“You cannot make me like you through sheer politeness.”

“Frankly, I don’t care if you like me,” I say.

“Frankly, I don’t believe that, considering you look at me in a way that suggests you care very much what I think.”

He’s teasing me. Rafe Vanguard is teasing me, and I don’t know how to handle it.

“Just because I find you aesthetically pleasing does not mean I care what you think,” I respond.

“You think I’m handsome?”

“Fishing for compliments is really not necessary when I’m clearly bestowing them freely. And you know what you look like.”

“Yes, it’s true. I’m much better looking than you.”

I don’t manage to hold back my wince, and I know he sees it because, just for a moment, he looks as if he might regret his words, but when I plaster a smile on my face, his own expression shifts into frustration.

“Why are you smiling when I’ve said something rude?” he asks, exasperated.

“It was rude but also true. And I—how can I make this clearer to you—Do. Not. Care. What. You. Think. So you can call me ugly all you want, and it doesn’t particularly bother me.” I’m proud of how confident my voice sounds.

“I didn’t say you were ugly.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not the one fishing for compliments. No need to retract your sentiment.”

He throws his hands up. “You are frightfully irritating.”

“Keep the insults coming, Your Highness.”

He shakes his head ruefully. “If it pleases you, m’lady.”

Other journeys have been meandering into the lab, their heads turning our way, clearly noticing that the bubble of frigid silence that generally surrounds our table has thawed. My neck warms at the attention.

Rafe discreetly tucks the boat away, and he spends the rest of the lab assisting Mbali in her attempt to make fingernails secrete viper venom. I test how different levels of Ha’i affect the thickness versus the length of a vine grown from a seed without sun or water. I keep my head down, ignoring the fact that everyone keeps looking between Rafe and me and whispering.

Nothing to see here.