“Then why do you tape your rings?” I asked, confused.
“Idon’t.” Crow raised his silver ring and I realized that, indeed, it wasn’t taped. I’d been too distracted earlier by the color of it to register the fact. “Hayden and his friends do ‘cause it makes them feel better.” He smirked.
“Don’t see any harm in being overly cautious,” Hayden muttered.
We stepped into Crow’s kitchen, a circular space crowded with computer gear and a battered table at its heart. He slid the tech aside and started portioning out wedges of some kind of savory pie from the oven, working quickly and wordlessly.
Robert started picking at his ring’s tape. “So can I take this off? It’s annoying.”
Crow gave a lazy wave. “Up to you. I’m not your handler.”
I kept mine on for now, although it seemed there was probably no point to it. Crow’s opinion ought to trump Hayden’s in this case.
The older man set out plates and glasses, pushing food toward us. “Honestly,” he said, “they’re probably more interested in keeping people busy and tracked at checkpoints than monitoring where everyone goes at night. This place isn’t big enough for anyone to hide long.”
Jessie hovered near the doorway, her voice still tight with nerves. “So there’s really no way they’ll know it was us?”
Crow gave her a brief, oddly gentle smile. “If I thought otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.”
I watched him for a moment, still trying to understand his angle. Crow had a silver ring, a warm kitchen, a life Fairwell had deemed valuable. He didn’t need to risk any of this for us. What drove someone like him to take this kind of risk—for strangers, for trouble that wasn’t his?
“Why are you helping us?” I finally asked, dragging a chair out so it scraped against the floor. The question hung in the warm kitchen, heavier than I intended.
Crow was already one mouthful into his pie, but he paused, fork still in hand. His brown eyes seemed to darken as they rested on me.
“I was one of the engineers working behind the scenes on the training Hayden and the others attended,” he said slowly. “And I… didn’t like what I saw. I’m a settler here too, so it matters to me how other settlers are treated. It worries me, even.”
He didn’t seem interested in saying more. The conversation stuttered; everyone stared at their plates, the only sound the quiet clink of forks. I wondered what else he’d seen. Did Crow think that, if this was how Fairwell was willing to treat some settlers, they might consider extending similar treatment to others in the future? I wasn’t sure why he’d think his position could be affected, given his valued skill, but maybe he knew something we didn’t. The clear distinction between settlers and natives wasn’t exactly comforting. Fairlanders like Anna gave a spiel about wanting to create equality between the two groups, but the scale was heavily tipped against us.
Still, I wouldn’t question his motives. Selfish or not, we needed every piece of help we could get. “Thank you,” I said, meaning it. I caught Hayden’s eye as I spoke. “I… I don’t know how to repay you.”
Crow waved it off with a mouthful of pie. “Don’t get sentimental. None of us are saints. None of us can call this place home, either—not really.”
There was a bitterness in his words I couldn’t ignore. The line between Fairwell’s originals and the rest of us had always been there, but now it felt like something you could trip over. If Crow was uneasy, it wasn’t something to take lightly.
Nico spoke up, voice uncertain. “Have you ever thought of leaving? Trying to get out for good?” I could see his unborn child in his eyes.
Crow snorted. “I’ve thought about it plenty. Who hasn’t? But how? There’s nowhere to go—not safely. Maybe Hayden could get a boat if the system let him, but…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Even then, it’s not exactly safe once you make it past the border. Out there, you’re prey.”
A silence settled over us, prickly and raw. For a moment, the hope that had flickered with Crow’s help felt impossibly small.
Rosalie’s voice broke it, small and tired. She sat with one arm looped through Robert’s. “Then… maybe we have to try to make something work here. If leaving isn’t an option.”
Crow eyed her, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Well, that’s an interesting concept,” he said thoughtfully. He took a gulp of water. “It’s one I’ve been thinking about. I think for anyone who’s financially desperate, believing you could have a comfortable life here would be foolish, at least how things currently stand. But… I have some ideas.”
He pulled a battered monitor across the table, flicking it on with a practiced thumb. The blue light washed across his face, sharpening the lines of fatigue.
“And I think our discussion starts here,” he said.
He turned the screen around so we all could see it. I found myself staring at some sort of highly complex… map?
Crow explained. “A complete plan of Founders’ Fortress. Or as complete as is available.”
FORTY-THREE
“Where did you get this?”Robert asked, leaning in, suspicion and awe in his voice.
“Work perks,” Crow replied. “My department’s supposed to monitor the network for glitches and bottlenecks. Nobody asks too many questions if I poke around.”
