Fear Me Not (The EVE Chronicles) (17 page)

This is their world, too.

After Owakess is over, people filter back to their dorms. The December air is crisp, and bites at exposed hands and faces. Raine stops to talk to Yulan, and waves me off, saying she’ll see me back at the dorm. Dakota skips ahead of me, Ulsi calling after her to slow down. Taj took off right after dance was over. Only Shadus walks with us. Me. He hangs back, behind Ulsi and Dakota, and keeps pace with me. I shiver a little, and before I can stop him he sheds the red silk robe and offers it to me.

“You’re cold. Use this.”  

“I’m fine, Creeps.”

“Is it customary for humans to call their friends by very inaccurate nicknames?”

“Inaccurate?” I sputter.

“If you call me Creeps, perhaps I should call you Homely?”

I glare. “That means ugly.”

“Exactly. It’s very inaccurate.”

Suddenly the night air doesn’t feel so cold. My face gives off waves of heat around my scarf.

“L-Lots of people would disagree with you on that one,” I stutter like Dakota. Shadus quirks a brow.

“Then those people would be wrong. Or blind. I’d forgive them for their transgressions if they were blind.”

I let out a half-frustrated, half-overwhelmedly embarrassed breath. “I don’t understand! You and Taj and Raine all seem to think…I’m somehow prettier than I really am. No one’s ever called me pretty in my life. It’s like you’re trying to butter me up!”

“You mistake me. I’m not trying to flatter you. I’m stating the truth.”

 “Riiiight.”

“Many of the Gutters agree as well,” He presses. “You have a face that pleases us.”

“Why? Because it looks like a snake-lizard-thing’s?” I scoff.

“Because it is strong. You have strong, clear, noble features. We admire strength.” He reaches over and puts the red robe around my shoulders. It smells like him, faintly. 

“So I look strong, like a big burly wrestler?”

His face crinkles as he chuckles. “No. You are far too delicate and slender to be a wrestler.”

I hate and love being called delicate all at once – the effect spreading like a sweet, cold fire in my chest.

“I’m sorry. I’ll cease,” Shadus says. “This is obviously making you uncomfortable.”

“It’s just…weird. This is the first time anyone’s complimented me like this.”

“Then we’ll have to make sure it won’t be the last.”

We pause on the steps of the girl’s dorm. I give him back the robe, and the tension in the air suddenly thickens unbearably. The night’s so cold I can feel the faint heat his body gives off even from here. He shuffles, a gesture that’s almost nervous and definitely wasn’t in his broody alien prince repertoire at the beginning of the year. In the dim light shining from the girl’s dorm, his face cast in half-shadow, I realize just how handsome he is.

And then somehow, I’m leaning in. Suddenly I’m so much closer than I was to him, my body moving without my direction. Our shoulders touch, my chest glancing his. My EVE organ feels weightless, light and bouncy beneath my ribs. Shadus’ eyes widen as my face nears, and then, just when I think he’s going to back off or call me a disgusting human, he reaches his hand up to barely graze my cheek.

And it is the end of me.

The explosion sounds like thunder, slicing between us and the serene winter night. Gravel goes flying, metal parts whizzing past us. Something hot slices against my knee and I collapse, Shadus collapsing with me and covering me with his arms. It’s over in a second, a cloud of smoke engulfing us as we look up at the burnt shell of the parked car that was there moments ago. It’s blackened, hollowed out with only the seats and steering wheel remaining. Molten metal and bits of dashboard fall to the ground like heavy rain. Girls on the dorm steps scream, faculty and security and police and CIA all come running, but Shadus and I are locked with our gazes on each others’.

“It was you, Victoria,” Shadus says solemnly. Panic rises in my throat like bile.

“What?”

Ruby eyes burn into mine.

“I smelled it, much more clearly this time. Without a doubt, the
zol
came from you.”

 ***

The second explosion ruins what high spirits Owakess managed to cultivate. The protestors are practically rabid now, the media won’t stop talking about terrorists supposedly bombing us, and security has tripled. The CIA forces double, men and women in dark jumpsuits and jackets patrolling the halls and pulling faculty aside for extensive discussions, even in the middle of class. The police start parking their cars on the lawn, pushing their way into bathrooms, and bossing the hell out of anyone who looks at them funny. Bomb dogs are brought in by the dozens. Parents – both Gutter and human – pull their kids out of Green Hills left and right. Classes empty out to half their full capacity. Even the lunch ladies resign, and are quickly replaced. Principal Freeson answers calls and fields questions from police, CIA, and teachers so often he doesn’t even have time to leave his office or go home during the night – working full and multiple days in a row. 

It’s very carefully held-together chaos, but it’s still pretty much chaos.

People start whispering the school will close, and in a lot of ways, it definitely feels like it will. It feels like the brittle threads holding the chaos together will shatter at the slightest touch, and we’re all standing on needles, waiting for that touch.

The security ushered Shadus and I away to separate rooms for questioning after the explosion, and after we were checked for wounds. I don’t know what Shadus told them, but I told them the truth – that a car had exploded nearby. No, I didn’t see anyone or anything suspicious. They didn’t even ask me about
zol
, which I was grateful for. They’re humans. Of course they wouldn’t ask me about it.

Just the word makes my stomach dance.
Zol
. Shadus said he smelled it coming from me. But that would mean I blew up the car. And I blew up the oven in the cafeteria.

But that’s utter bullshit. There’s no way in hell I did that. I can’t. I’m not a Gutter. And I’m sure as hell not Umala or Asara. It had to be another Gutter somewhere nearby.

Raine has been mysteriously absent from the dorm room. I caught her one night, smuggling her toothbrush and a pillow out. Taj says he’s seen her going in and out of Yulan’s office, so she’s probably sleeping there. I don’t know what she’s up to, but it’s bizarre she hasn’t approached me yet.

Taj, on the other hand, sticks to me like a fly on a carcass. It makes lunches with Ulsi and Dakota a little awkward. But I don’t have the heart to turn him away – he’s got dark circles under his eyes, and he always starts nodding off during breaks, catching a few moments of sleep wherever he can. Like any student, he isn’t allowed after curfew, but I’m a hundred percent positive he’s sneaking out and patrolling in his own way.

I poke at his arm during breakfast. He sleepily lifts his head from the table, curly hair mussed and gold eyes hooded.

“What?”

“It’s against the rules,” I whisper. “To be out after curfew.”

His eyes darken. “I’m not out after curfew.”

I give him the ‘let’s-not-kid-ourselves-here’ look. He sighs.

“It’s against the rules, but the greater justice demands I participate. I went to the CIA and police heads and asked to join the night patrols, but they refused me! They said I wasn’t capable of it.”

“So you’re going to drive yourself into an early grave to prove them wrong?”

‘To help,” He murmurs, eyes drooping. “To help keep justice. That is…that is…” He yawns hugely and his head falls back on his arms. “…the Adjudicator duty.”

I feel a smile tug at my lips. With all the added security, it must be five times as hard to sneak out and back in now, even for a Gutter. But he does it anyway. I don’t know if his dedication is insane, genetic, or admirable. Probably a little bit of all of that.

Taj’s presence helps keep away the memory of that night – Shadus’ silky fingertips glancing over my jaw, down to my neck. I’d been paralyzed by that touch in the strangest way; my every nerve on fire and frozen all at once. But I wasn’t scared. I’d been…
excited
.

I flush and shake Taj awake. He follows me as I drop my oatmeal bowl off and start towards class. Being excited about a guy is nonsense. Being excited about an alien is anathema to everything Mom believed in.

I can’t betray her memory any more than I already have, because her memory is all I have left.

Shadus and I have avoided each other since that night. Or, I’m avoiding him. I can’t meet his gaze. Even sitting across from him in the library generates a static buzz of anxiety and guilt in my head that makes it impossible to talk to him. What would I say, anyway? ‘I’m sorry I tried to kiss you’? Was kissing even what I was going for? I had no idea. Maybe a ‘sorry you think I can use
zol
’ would do. Or maybe not. I’m so unsure of so much. He’s been wary of me, reluctant to breach the silence with a bridge of words first. Sometimes in his bloodstone eyes I catch a flicker of fear, but he always looks away too fast for me to confirm it. Why would Executioner
sotho
be afraid of me? His reflexes are better than mine; he’s stronger than me, and taller. It’s not me he’s afraid of. It’s the
zol
. The
zol
I can’t actually have.

There’s fear and suspicion in the air, like insidious, infectious pollen.

And then the mharata arrive. 

Four black SUVs pull up to the gravel roundabout six days after the second explosion. Adult Gutters in sharp black suits get out. Unlike every Gutter I’ve seen, these Gutters have shaved their heads. Even the females. They wear identical thick sunglasses.

“What’s with the Agent Smiths?” I wonder aloud. Dakota, sitting on the bench next to me with a cup of cocoa, tilts her head curiously. Ulsi goes pale, and stiff.

“Ulsi?” Dakota pokes her arm. “What’s w-wrong?”

“Mharata,” She breathes. “The
sotho
have sent the
mharata
here.”

“Shadus said something about them, too,” I lead.

“Who are t-they?” Dakota asks. Ulsi clears her throat, but doesn’t take her eyes off the
mharata
as they pass us, walking up the stairs and into the main hall in perfect formation.

“They are priests of
Ki’eth
. They swear vows of deprivation – they do not mate, and they are above belonging to factions. They have no family, and devote themselves to the scrolls and prophecies. They are a neutral party who only involve themselves if
Ki’eth
is being threatened.”

“Or if someone starts using
zol
,” I murmur. Ulsi nods.

“W-Why do you look so scared of them, Ulsi?” Dakota asks.

Ulsi doesn’t meet our gazes. She looks at the snow-dusted grass instead.

“It’s nothing.”

The
mharata
keep sunglasses on at all times, but I see the sides of their eyes as they pass – irises a translucent pink like albino rats. They stand in the halls, their posture rigid, hands clasped behind their backs, and heads shifting. They must have excellent hearing – when I round corners their gaze is already riveted on me. They don’t speak, not even to other Gutters, and they’re stationed in every hall – even the dorms. The irritability of the explosion aftermath is dampened by the creepy
mharata
. No one wants to start a fight and see what they’re hiding under those emotionless gazes. Whispers fly among the Gutters; is the
zol
user a Gutter teacher? Or a
sotho
, like Taj? The Gutter rumors differ, but they all have one thing in common; they are terrified of the
mharata
. Some Gutters avoid a hall entirely if a
mharata
is in it. Us humans might be slow, but we aren’t stupid – the Gutter’s fear is picked up on, and human students start avoiding the
mharata
too, even if we don’t know why.

Principal Freeson holds an assembly in the auditorium. It looks different now that it isn’t swathed in the colors of Owakess. I’m seven rows back, but I can still see the weariness etched into every line of his face.

“Hello,” he speaks into the mic. “And good morning. I hope you all slept well.”

The chatter in the auditorium dulls, and Freeson tries a wane smile.

“I understand that things are hard for you all. And they are only getting harder. I apologize. You’re growing up. This is the most difficult time of your life, and due to our negligence it’s been made even more difficult for you. And for that, I’m truly sorry.”

The auditorium is dead silent, now, even the troublemakers falling quiet at his heartfelt apology. Freeson looks like he’s about to break down, but he clears his throat and looks up, eyes strong.

“We promised your parents we’d keep you safe. Gutter, or human, we resolved to never let anything harm you while you were here at Green Hills. But as you know, things have been happening that are less than safe for all involved. This is why you see so much new security, and this is why I must now introduce our friends, the
mharata
.”

He sweeps his arms to the side, and several
mharata
filter out of stage right. They stand, hands behind their backs, posture perfect, all of them in a straight line. Freeson looks back to us.

“In order to catch the offender who has breached our protection, the Gutters have loaned us some of their best officers.”

“Officers? Why are they calling them that?” I whisper to Taj.

“They would never tell human students about
zol
,” Taj says. “Or the paparazzi. Or the humans, period. Perhaps Freeson himself doesn’t even know. So the
mharata
are posing as advanced security officers.”

“And in reality?”

“In reality, they’re here to locate the
zol
user, and take them back to the reservation for,
Asara
, I don’t know. Study? Seclusion? Worship? Training?” He shudders. “I don’t envy whoever it is. The factions will tear themselves apart trying to use their power. But the
mharata
will protect the
zol
at all costs.”