they’ve ever saved, and it’s hard for them to save climbers in general, it’s better for Claysoot to stay put until Frank solves things.”
“Or until he gets his hands on Harvey.”
“Exactly.”
I smile and Blaine smiles, too, but for some reason it doesn’t feel right. If we are not encircled by a Wall and standing on clay streets, are we the same brothers? The thought is exhausting.
“I’m really tired,” I say. “I think I need to sleep.”
“Sure. I’ll find you later. We can catch up.” As I walk away, he adds, “I’m sorry, Gray. About the twin thing. Really.”
I could accept it. But I don’t. “I know,” I say, and then I keep walking.
As I wind back through the dining hall, I am engulfed by a wave of doubt. The likelihood of Frank solving things or capturing Harvey seems so remote, so improbable. I want to go home. I never thought I’d say that, but I just want to go back to Claysoot, where everything was simple. Where things with Blaine were uncomplicated, where I had a future with Emma. Not knowing made everything easier.
I leave the way I came in, brushing through a group of people entering for breakfast. I keep my head down, buried in my thoughts, but someone grabs my arm.
“Gray?”
Emma is standing before me, her hair brushed out so thoroughly it is pin straight. It makes her look oddly formal. I am overcome by every emotion I have ever felt for her. Love, joy, pain, want, all mingled with relief.
“I missed you,” she says. She’s wearing all white: a pair of pants that look uncomfortably tight and a top that flutters when she moves, almost as fluidly as water. Something is different about her. Her eyebrows have suddenly become too thin, and her skin too shiny. There’s something odd about her face, too, as though all of her features have been exaggerated with a fine-tipped quill.
“What did they do to you?” I ask. Her lips are dark, painted with a color too even and bold. Even her eyes, which I thought I could never forget, seem to be surrounded by dark shadows.
She groans. “I don’t even know. I feel like I have three layers of grime on my face, while every other inch of my body feels like it’s missing three layers of skin. At least they didn’t make me wear the heels. I kept falling in them anyway.” She points to a pair of flat, white shoes on her feet and then steps into my arms.
“We have to get out of here, Gray,” she whispers into my ear. “This place isn’t right. They’re keeping something from us. I don’t trust them.” Her hair smells burned beneath my chin.
“They didn’t tell you about Harvey?” She pulls her head from my shoulder and frowns. I guess that’s a no. “I met with Frank. He had some answers.” My stomach growls audibly and I realize I haven’t eaten in hours. Sleep can wait. “I’ll fill you in over breakfast.”
“Hey, Romeo!” Marco comes strolling up the hallway and Emma and I break apart. “I need to borrow you.” I notice for the first time how truly ridiculous his massive beard looks in comparison to his shaved head. His eyes fall on Emma.
“Well hello, girly. Don’t you clean up nicely.” I watch his eyes linger on the low neckline of Emma’s top and have to stifle a strong desire to punch him in the face. Marco grabs me by the upper arm, carting me down the hall before Emma and I can say good-bye.
“Where are we going?” I ask as he takes a turn and guides me down a flight of stairs.
“The infirmary. You need to be Cleansed. Standard procedure for all Order members.”
“Cleansed?”
“Shots and pills and medicine. And we’ve got to shave that head of yours. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how we all sport the same clean look? We just want you to be part of the family.” He smiles at me viciously.
My free hand instinctively feels for the wild strands against my neck. It’s only hair, nothing really, but I want to keep it. I want to look different from the Order, from Marco. I want to keep Claysoot with me.
“No thanks,” I say. “I’m fine as is.”
Marco slaps the back of my head. “Did I say you had a choice? This is not negotiable.” I rub my head, startled. “Hair is cut short to prevent lice. Pills and shots are given to ward off illness. It’s