“The shacks?”
“It’s where urchins like him live,” Yassen said, and he saw the boy stiffen. “Don’t worry. We have orphans in Ravence too.”
“Let’s get moving then,” Elena said, and she prodded Cian forward. “You go first.”
Cian glared at them but went to the ladder. He jumped, catching the rung, and pulled himself up. He climbed like a spider, and Yassen thought of how poor boys like him—boys who relied on their wits and their cunning to survive—were easy fodder for the Arohassin.
Yassen followed Cian, with Elena close behind. Slowly, painfully, he hauled himself up the rungs.
“When we get up there, you have to be quiet, all right?” Cian said, pausing near the top to glance down at them. “Everyone will still be asleep.”
“You have our word,” Elena said.
Yassen only nodded as Cian slid back the grate and scrambled out. A patch of orange, muted sky stared down at them. Cian helped Yassen up, and then they pulled Elena through. The urchin locked the latch back into place and motioned for them to follow.
The shacks were small, lopsided, made of scrap metal, tin, and anything else a scavenger could find. While Ravence’s slums were low, brick structures, Jantari slums were built in stacks, with metal fire escapes snaking down the sides. Every window was barred, and a metal sign of the winged ox hung before every door.
Cian was right; everyone was asleep, and the streets were empty. But the shantytown looked outlandish in the reddish haze. It was too quiet, as if the strange sky had descended, wrapped around the homes, and trapped all sounds within. Everywhere Yassen turned, that same orange silence greeted him. Without thinking, he reached for his pistol, but Elena’s hand grazed his back. He turned to her and saw the unspoken question in her eyes.
What do we do with the boy?
He glanced at the urchin and then back at her, closing and opening his fist.
Wait.
They followed Cian through narrow alleyways. Lights encased in metal cubes illuminated their path. Everywhere, Yassen spotted the infamous Jantari steel, but it did not gleam. The orange sky blocked the sun, giving their eyes reprieve.
Finally, after they rounded a corner and followed a sloping side street to an intersection, Cian stopped.
“The main road is just off to the right,” he said. “Follow it, and you’ll find a hovertrain platform. Take it.”
“Why are you helping us?” Elena asked, and the urchin smiled wryly.
“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
“The desert is a fickle place, and it’s changing. Be careful,” she said.
“Once we expand our cities, there won’t be a desert,” he said. “This slum will be a part of the metal. We can finally become city folk and conquer the sand.”
Yassen saw a muscle work in Elena’s jaw as she reached for Cian and squeezed his hand.
“Just be careful,” she said again.
He scowled and yanked his hand away, disappearing back the way they came.
Elena watched him go, and then she turned to Yassen. When she saw the look in his eyes, she frowned.
“Yassen,” she began.
“Just stay out of sight,” he said. “I’ll find you.”
“But—”
“Think for a moment, Elena,” he said. “He’s probably going to sell us out to the nearest officer, maybe even collect a reward. We can’t let him just walk away.”
She chewed her lip, eyes darting between him and the direction in which Cian had disappeared.
“I don’t know…”
