Page 247 of Interion

Zion shifted to get a better look at me, his arm wrapping around my waist. The smile was gone, his posture turning protective and unyielding. It was the first time in years I'd talked about my life as a slave and what I'd gone through in the forest.

“If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay, my sunshine.” He caressed my cheek with his thumb. “We can wait until you feel more comfortable.”

I sighed. This man looking at me with such tenderness was my partner. I could open up to him without fear of being judged or misunderstood.

“What I mean is that making plans wasn't something I could afford when staying alive was already a miracle. I could do something wrong and end up dying at a soldier's hands. My lungs could stop working during the night, or the men could see me as a woman and do to me what they did to the pretty slaves.” Zion took a deep breath, trying to control the shadows that stirred furiously. “Every dawn was a battle won, and the one certainty of my days was that I'd die soon, so my only plan was to survive as long as possible. Despite everything, I had hope that someone would come to rescue me; it was foolish faith, but I believed in it.” I paused, trying to free myself from the weight of those memories. “As you can see, they were small goals, you know? Short-term plans. But this? You gave me time, Zion. Enough time to start planning.”

He still looked ready to get up, put on his battle gear, and hunt down the ghosts of whoever had done that to me. Silently, I was grateful they were all dead. Knowing Zion as I did, I knew he'd lose every ounce of his sanity hunting them down. The shadows gathered at the headboard, anxious and turbulent, so I continued:

“When I saw you in that basement, I felt like I knew you. I knew you were the one I'd been waiting for, and I would have died happy just to see your eyes once. I felt less foolish for having waited and believed, because you had come.” My voice caught, tears welling up in my eyes. “You had come for me.”

Zion wiped the tears from my cheeks and caressed my arm.

“I'm sorry I found you almost too late.”

Fragments of memories flooded my mind—images of Zion apologizing over my cadaverous body in the hospital bed. I pushed them away. I didn't want to relive those memories.

“You found me, and that's all that matters.” I took a deep breath, blinking back the tears. “Then you brought me here, and I was too broken to want to plan my future. I let Ambrose plan everything for me, and he gave me reasons to live. I followed his scripts without hesitation, but they weren't mine; I followed them because it was a path, and any path was better than staying in the same place.”

“And do you like the path you took?”

“I do. I like being a doctor, and I'm proud to be graduating.” I smiled despite my swollen eyes. “Then you came back. And in those first few days, I wanted to rub your face in the cobblestones of our street.”

“I had a reason,” he argued, returning somewhat to normal.

“You did,” I agreed, running my fingers through his hair. “But I confess you were a pain, Zion Voluz.” He smiled in agreement. “So now we're here, and this is the first time I'm planning a future: watching the sunset holding hands, having breakfast at a café every Sunday morning, visiting the five monuments of each nation, getting a tacky matching tattoo. Anyway...”

“Couple things,” he finished, and I echoed him in sync, wrapping up:

“Couple things.”

He studied me without showing any emotion.

“Do you still want all those things you mentioned? Because if you do, I’ve already got a brilliant idea for a butt tattoo. What do you think?”

I knew he was just trying to make me laugh, which worked perfectly.

“I think that’s a terrible idea,” I replied, stroking his hair. “What I mean is, the difference between living and surviving is this: being able to look forward to things and plan for the future. I like this new feeling.”

Zion hugged me so tight I nearly ended up on top of him.

“We’ll figure it out after the test. As long as we’re together, it doesn’t matter where. My home is you.”

His words, though meant for me, also felt like a warning to any fate or obstacle lurking ahead.

Δ

At 5 a.m., we stood in front of the enormous black gate leading out of the city. Most of the students were already there, standing in two lines, and the academy director stood tall on a platform lit by improvised archemic globes—it was still dark out. I headed over, stepping on the red, fertile earth of the outer wall, then stopped beside Breno and greeted him quietly so I wouldn’t draw too much attention.

“I’ll find you,” he whispered back, his eyes shining with anticipation.

Like me, he had several runes visible above his jacket collar, but the mark on his face was simple: two blue lines on the left side that started at his forehead, crossed over his eyes, and ended at his cheek. He wore dark blue clothing very similar to mine, but his boots were military-style and his knives sat in a holster strapped around his right thigh.

“I promise I’ll try to find you too,” I murmured back. “And be careful.”

“I will. I saw your message—thanks for the warning.”

Breno smiled at me, the kind of smile that could light up an entire city. I smiled back, warmed by the light he radiated.