I followed her gaze toward the door, where I saw rows of barricades ready to be shoved against it. Though the window shutters were closed, I could see glimpses of light through the cracks. Not nighttime yet, but close.
“Don’t worry,” said Trina. I knew she was trying to be comforting, and maybe that confidence was enough to fool her children, but I could hear her fear behind her firm voice. “We’re safe in here. Brandon’s the best woodsmith in the city—nothing’s getting through that door.”
“Tell us about yourselves,” said Brandon, changing the subject.
Tansy answered first, and I settled back against one of the screens, my feet stretched out toward the fire, content to let her tell our story. I slipped one hand inside my pack and felt the cool metal of Nix’s body bump up against my fingers. Sill there, still hiding.
I knew I’d never get used to the way Tansy talked about me, like I was some sort of hero or saint. I never heard her sound anything less than sincere, but I couldn’t understand her faith in me. Maybe to her, and her people, I was some kind of hero. I’d stopped the army of machines from my city from overrunning the Iron Wood and enslaving the Renewables hiding there.
But my city also never would have known where the Iron Wood was if it weren’t for me. And Tansy didn’t know about the child I killed. Didn’t know how all I wanted to do was find my brother and a place to be safe. That when I saw shadows, I didn’t fight—I ran away.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice Molly creeping closer to me until a pair of small, warm hands reached for my arm to move it aside. I shifted without thinking, and the little girl crawled into my lap. I froze, glancing up at her parents. Brandon was intent on Tansy’s story, but Trina was watching me and Molly with a smile. I could tell by her faint surprise that this was unusual behavior for her daughter, but that she was happy to see her overcoming her shyness. There probably wasn’t much opportunity in a life as brutal and ruled by fear as this one.
I was the youngest of my family and never had any little kids around to take care of. Molly was small enough that I had no idea what I was supposed to do with her. Uncomfortable, I shifted my weight, half-hoping the girl would go away if I did. But no. All she did was turn enough so she could crane her head around and look up at me.
“Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered as Tansy continued chattering on. She wrapped her hands around locks of my brown hair, giving a firm tug.
I nodded and let her pull me down so she could whisper in my ear.
“I like your friend.”
Of course. Tansy was the social one, after all. The one with the good stories and the rich voice. I smiled at Molly. “Why don’t you go sit in her lap?”
The girl shook her head, impatient, and tugged at my hair for me to lean down again. “No, your secret friend.”
I looked down and saw that Nix had half-crawled onto my hand, its jeweled eyes visible on this side of the pack only. It gave a tiny, startled buzz and dropped back into darkness.
Molly laughed and leaned back against me.
What a bizarre child. Way too observant for someone her age. But then, I’d always been quiet, too. Unusual, out of place. Bemused, I put my arms around her.
The atmosphere inside was so congenial and warm that I began to grow drowsy, and I forgot it was only afternoon, not night. But eventually Brandon stood, setting aside his carving and stretching.
“Time for lock-up,” he announced. When I looked, I saw that the light coming through the cracks was almost invisible now, no brighter than the firelight inside.
Tansy and I helped move all the barricades into place, taking over from Trina, who usually helped her husband secure the building. The huge wooden structures were far too heavy for one person—I was surprised they were even able to do it normally with just two.
Brandon checked and double-checked all the shutters and then sent the children off to bed. I expected Trina to go tuck them in, but it was Brandon’s voice I heard murmuring to the children from the room on the other side of the screen from the fire. The warmest room, no doubt.
Trina smiled at us as she finished wiping the bowls and mugs clean. “I’m afraid we don’t have beds for you girls, but it sounds like you’re used to sleeping on the ground.”
I found myself smiling back. “A dry, clean floor next to a real fire is far more than we were expecting,” I promised. “But it’s only just dusk now, isn’t it?”
Trina nodded, her smile fading a little. “We usually try to sleep after lock-up. It’s just easier that way, rather than lying awake in the dark, listening for every sound. The truth is that if they come for us, we’ll hear it. Nothing can get through that barrier without making a racket. It’s easier for the children, too. No child should have to grow up knowing that the monsters they dream of in the night are real.”
My heart constricted. Suddenly the Institute’s methods didn’t seem quite so monstrous. After all, what would I give to feel safe again every day, to know nothing could get me, that my family could sleep safely? How much would I sacrifice?
My own safety? My life?
My freedom?
CHAPTER 4
After Trina and Brandon had gone to bed, I stayed awake, pacing. As the fire died down the air had grown cooler, but I could still feel sweat pooling in the small of my back.
I’d been given the opportunity to provide my own people with that kind of safety, and I’d run away. Of course, I wasn’t a real Renewable—but at the time, the Institute had fooled me into thinking I was. I believed I had that choice, and I chose to abandon my people. Did it matter that the Institute had planned all along for me to run, so they could follow me? I still made a decision.
I wished I knew what had prompted Basil to abandon his task. All I knew was that Basil had volunteered to try to find the Iron Wood, and that at some point in his journey, he’d destroyed his pixie and vanished. Had he made the same choice I did?
I didn’t know whether that made me feel better or worse. A glint at one of the shutters caught my eye, and I backtracked a pace, putting my eye to the crack. I could just see the Star, dim enough now that I could make out its shape. It truly was like a star, or a snowflake—jagged and uneven crystal spires radiating out from its glowing heart. Though the street outside lay in shadow, the Star was high enough up that it was still catching the last remnants of the sunlight.
The buildings in this city were so destroyed that it was hard to believe only time had worn them down. Some distance down the street, one of the structures was so reduced to rubble that I couldn’t even tell what it had once been. With a jolt, I realized that this city must have been attacked during the wars. That some power-hungry Renewable had targeted it for unknown reasons.
I wondered if that Renewable had created the Star, fading in the dying light. As I watched, the light dimmed, like magic in a dying machine’s crystal heart. Then it winked out, leaving the city in darkness.“Can’t sleep?” It was barely more than a whisper.
I turned. Tansy was sitting by the fire, arms curled around her knees. Nix was nearby, on the other side of the fireplace, wings half-extended as if soaking up the warmth.
I wondered how long they’d been watching me pace. I moved away from the window and joined them, sitting in the empty space between them.
“Just thinking,” I whispered back, conscious of the fact that only wooden screens separated the bedrooms from the kitchen where we were.
“I wish we could do something for them,” Tansy said with a sigh.
I found my gaze going to the shutters again. “Why do you suppose the shadow people only come at
