Enclave (Razorland 1)

Long after he pulled away, the phantom heat lingered and haunted my sleep.

Sunshine

When I awoke, I first thought the room was on fire. I scrambled off the sofa and started to bolt when my senses caught up to my instinctive fear. No smoke meant no fire; it was a simple relationship.

So why was the room so bright?

I crept to the window and gazed out, eyes slitted in pain. Everything glowed. If anyone had tried to explain this to me, I wouldn’t have believed it. The light hurt.

Fade came up behind me. He wore something that wrapped around his eyes, and he offered the other to me. I slid it onto my face.

“Sunglasses. There were a few left on the floor downstairs.” He smiled. “Good thing. I’m not used to the sun anymore either.”

So the light had a name. I still wasn’t sure I liked it, but with my eyes covered, I could bear it. “Will it hurt us?”

“It might. Remember how long it’s been since I was here.”

Through the smoky filter, I gazed out over the city for the first time. I had seen pictures before, of course, old and faded. The elders had told us they reflected a lost world, now poisoned beyond hope. There was nothing Topside except terror and death. Like most of their stories, they contained a grain of truth buried beneath the lies.

Tall shapes filled my view; some had collapsed and lay in ruins. Shorter buildings squatted at the base, holding their shapes better. They were built of old stone—some natural, others looked as if man’s hands had shaped them. The colors had faded beneath the burning sun, much like the artifacts we’d found down below. Built side to side, not much space existed between them, and occasionally, time had pushed one to the side, so it leaned tiredly against its neighbors.

One building rose above the others, its sharp tower gleaming green. It was a different from the buildings that surrounded it, more beautiful and with rounded points atop the windows. Most of them hung in jagged shards, and it had been marked with white painted that identified it as claimed territory. For no reason I could name, the damage saddened me. Resolute, I turned.

“What’s our plan?” I portioned out what was left of our enclave provisions. In my opinion, the first priority should be finding food and water.

“My dad used to talk about getting out of the city.” Fade gestured. “That’s what he called this place. He told stories about where it was green and clean, where you could plant food and watch it grow, where there were plenty of animals for hunting, and you could drink the water without getting sick.”

That sounded unlikely, but … “Did he tell you where that was?”

“North. That was all he ever said.”

“Then let’s go.”

I hoped he had some sense of direction. I wasn’t altogether sure I could find my way around the corner Topside.

“We should wait until nightfall. We’re more likely to run into the gangs during the day, and I suspect we might get burned out there.”

“Burned?” I had visions of being roasted on a spit.

“By the sun.” Fade smiled slightly. “The gangs won’t cook and eat us.”

“Then what can we do for water? We may be able to find food along the way, but—”

“I’ve been thinking about that. There’s water downstairs. If we can figure out some way to boil it, maybe it would be all right.”

“We could build a fire out back.” There was plenty of stuff to burn.

I got up and rummaged through the cabinets. I turned up a pot, but we needed some way to suspend it over the flames. We occupied the day building a contraption out of scrap junk.

“Will this work?”

I shook my head. It took most of the day to put it together, and he stood watch while I started the fire. His vigilance made me nervous even as it reassured me. If there were any gangers around, he’d spot them. The noises were still too strange for me to tell what was threatening—I started at things he said were harmless, like the chittering of small animals and the flutter of wings. And my eyesight wasn’t what it should be. Even with the sunglasses on, I could barely tolerate the sunshine. Though the warmth felt strange and beautiful on my skin, Fade shooed me back indoors.

“Small doses, Deuce. You have to get used to it, or it’s going to sting.”

Right. He’d said the sun could burn me. It certainly looked angry enough, all orange and glowing mad. I peered up at it through the dark filter, through the glass, and wondered how we could’ve lost all memory of something so huge. Down in the enclave, there had been no talk of day or night, no mention of anything but burning air and water that scalded like fire. Somehow we’d mixed everything up. Sorrow rose in me, as I realized the Wordkeeper dedicated his whole life to lies. What a waste.

I sat in the storeroom while Fade handled the actual work, and I kept busy examining the items piled in dusty, papery boxes. I found a metal object that appeared to be nothing much at first glance, but the more I played with it, the more parts I found. I recognized the knife, but not the other tools. Two looked like they might be good for stabbing, but I could only guess at the rest. Since it was light and it folded nicely, I stowed it in my bag.

Through the open door, I watched Fade work. He used the lighter his father had left him to kindle the smaller objects and then the sparks spread. Eventually the fire burned bright and clean, curls of smoke floating off toward the sky. In the enclave, we’d never have allowed it to get so big. Here, it didn’t seem to matter. I had the fleeting thought that someone might see the blaze and come to investigate, but if so, we’d handle them.

He turned and saw me staring. “Find anything good?”

“Maybe.”

I prowled some more, frustrated by his refusal to let me help outside. I wondered if I’d always be so useless Topside. On a tall shelf, I found a dusty metal box. I lifted it down and looked for a way to open it. Something important must be inside. An opening looked as though an item would fit, possibly opening it.

Eventually, I located the right object. I slid it in and heard a click. When I lifted the lid, I found the most marvelous thing. A book. Not part of one, not loose pages. A whole book. And it wasn’t flimsy like the ones I’d found down in the tunnel. Still, I was almost afraid to touch it.

The beige front had raised letters and green paint, outlining a fanciful design with a girl in strange clothes, a winged brat, and a bird. With some effort, I read the letters: “The Day Boy and the Night Girl. Fairy tales by George MacDonald.” Though I understood most of the words, others escaped me. Enthralled and breathless, I opened it. The book made a little popping sound, as if nobody had touched it in a long time. That was probably true. Using my finger to mark my place, I put more letters together slowly, and other words leaped out at me. “London: Arthur C. Fifield, 1904. Ed. by Greville MacDonald; printed by S. Clarke, Manchester.”

With great care, I turned the page, and my breath caught. Someone had written in the book. The Wordkeeper would be livid. In faded ink, it read: “with love to Gracie from Mary.” Those were names, I thought, and it implied this book had been a gift. Other hands had touched this, people who lived in the lost world. They’d known dreams like mine, and I’d never know how those stories ended. A marvelous sense of connection thrummed through me.

I forgot my worries. I forgot the danger. Using only my fingertips, I flipped to the next page, lightheaded with wonder.

She was not naturally cruel, but the wolf had made her cruel._]

She was straight and strong, but now and then would fall bent together, shudder, and sit for a moment with her head turned over her shoulder, as if the wolf had got out of her mind onto her back._

“What do you have there?” Fade asked.

I almost hid it from him, and then with a burst of shocking relief, I remembered I didn’t have to. Wordless, I held the book out to him. He looked at it, and his hands were as reverent as mine had been. He read faster than me, and when he finished that first page, his gaze met mine, glazed with awe.

“We’ll take it,” I said. “It doesn’t weigh much.”

He slipped the book into my bag and went back to work. By dark, we had enough clean water to last us a few days. Secretly, I feared leaving this place because I’d gotten used to these two rooms. Inside didn’t scare me. Outside, that enormous, monstrous sky hung over everything, and the size of it made me want to hide.

But there was something different about the dark this time. I took off my glasses and stared up. A curve of silver hung amid the brighter specks; it looked to me like a curved dagger, pretty but deadly, as if it might slice the sky in two.

I didn’t let him see how terrified I was. Instead I geared up as if this were nothing more than a routine patrol. I checked my weapons and our supplies; I shouldered my bag with the resolve of a Huntress. I could handle night.

But you’re not a Huntress. You’re just a girl with six scars.

At least Fade had them too. Maybe I’d been cast out of my tribe, but I wasn’t alone. That made all the difference. If I’d been sent Topside on my own, I’d have already given up. It was simply too different from what I knew. But his calm resolve made me believe we might someday see the green land promised in his father’s stories. If we didn’t, it would be because it didn’t exist, not because we hadn’t tried.

As I stepped outside, a boom sounded, practically shaking the ground itself. I flattened myself against the building. While I cowered, water spilled down, like the pipes in the enclave, but a hundred times more powerful. It soaked me to the bone in no time, and I stood frozen in it, face upturned.

“Don’t worry. It’s rain.” Fade stood close enough for me to feel his heated breath against my ear. A shiver rolled through me, echoed in distant crashes that shook the ground beneath my feet. He lifted his face as well, drinking it in, and I gazed at him through that silver curtain, watching as it glazed his features, all pallor and prettiness. Droplets spiked his lashes, so that I wanted to—

I shouldn’t want that. Rain. Instead I focused on the other part of what I felt.

“It doesn’t burn,” I whispered.

In fact, it felt amazing. I hadn’t bathed recently, and this was the next best thing. I started to smile. I turned slowly, admiring the flashes of light. Rain pounded against the ground until it sounded like a chorus of running feet combined with shushing whispers. I’d never heard anything so lovely. I didn’t even mind we had to walk in it; I only hoped the book was safe and dry. At the first chance, I wanted to read more of it.

“No. They had that wrong too.”

Along with so many things. For the first time, I felt sorry for the people trapped by the enclave rules, who would never break free, who would never see any of this. Who would live and die in the dark.

“I want to go back,” I said. “The elders need to know the truth.”

Fade put his hands on my shoulders. “They won’t listen, Deuce. They’ll kill us on sight. Besides … don’t you think I told them?”

Sickness boiled up inside me. They didn’t share the knowledge with us. Not even a whisper got out, after Fade’s arrival. None of us ever knew where he came from, nothing he’d seen or done. I’d thought his silence meant he didn’t want to talk, but now I realized the truth.