Her Lips Are Sealed
Titan
Before we reach the end of the alley, Sprout cuts left between two buildings that look like they were factories decades ago. They’ve fallen to ruin now.
He tosses a look over his shoulder to make sure we’re following, then speeds up as he picks his way between fallen bricks, stones, and three-foot-tall weeds. His eyesight is even better than mine, and when he realizes we’ve fallen behind, he slows his pace.
When we leave the shelter between the two old factories, he zigzags between other buildings, always heading northeast until we enter a more residential area. Or should I say it used to be a residential area? Now, it’s fallen into disrepair and seems to house squatters too poor to live in decent conditions.
Sprout looks back at us one more time to ensure we’re still behind him, then scurries between two houses made of tin to arrive at a shack not much bigger than my cell in Katann Hahn’s gladiator barracks.
A pang of guilt slices through me. It’s obvious Sprout’s family can’t afford to feed Blaze and me, nor should they bear the burden of the fury that will rain down on them when it’s discovered they gave us shelter.
“C’mon,” Sprout whispers loudly as he motions us to follow him.
Not wanting to argue with him at his doorway, alerting his neighbors to our presence or the fact that he sympathizes with us, I follow both him and Blaze inside.
It’s pitch black. There were windows facing the front of the house, but no light streams in from the moons. Perhaps they were painted black.
I grab Blaze’s hand, knowing she can’t see.
Sprout stomps on something that sounds like hollow wood. A square in the floor opens to an underground space. Light bleeds up from down below and I can now clearly see the room we’re in. It’s empty except for two couches that look like they’re at least a century old.
“C’mon,” Sprout says as he pulls us down wooden steps into an underground bunker.
I pause for a moment, assessing the situation. There’s no reason to trust this youngling, to follow him into an underground area with only one means of escape.
“It’s safe. My uncle will help you,” Sprout says. His face is so happy, so open. He’s so eager to help, there’s something about the situation that tells me Blaze and I aren’t in danger.
“Whoa,” Blaze whispers.
When we descend, we’re in a large living area filled with couches and tables. There’s a makeshift kitchen along one wall. The adjoining space is filled with wooden tables covered with tech in various stages of disarray. Vid machines, computers, wires, tubes, and a hundred things I can’t identify litter the place.
“Uncle Altair!” Sprout calls after he pulls a rope and the hatch above us closes with a bang.
“What?” Uncle Altair sounds irritated.
He rides into the living room on a motorized moving chair. I wince when I see he has no legs from the knees down. It must be hard to be confined to that chair.
“Look who I brought for dinner!” Sprout announces as he makes an delighted little hop of excitement.
As Altair wheels closer, I observe the similarities between him and his nephew. Clearly the same species, he’s black with blue patterning on his skin. His eyes are all white.
Unlike his nephew, who was open and full of enthusiasm, Altair’s mouth remains in a tight flat line of skepticism.
“Uncle Altair. It’s them! Titan and Slayer!”
“What do you want?” he asks as he reaches into a scabbard welded into the chair’s structure. He pulls out a two-foot-long sword and holds it in front of him. He’s not exactly brandishing it, but he’s certainly not friendly.
I have to admit, it must be odd to see two of the most famous people on the planet barge into your living room. Especially when those people are currently being hunted.
“We’ll just be going. Sprout seemed so excited to meet us. We tried to tell him it wasn’t safe to be anywhere near us,” Blaze babbles as she walks backward up the stairs, her hand clutching the flimsy handrail.
“Why are you here?” Altair asks, his voice soft, suspicious.
“We were invited,” I say levelly, not wanting to get the boy into trouble, but wanting to defuse the situation and get out of here before we’re killed by an innocent civilian instead of our enemies.
He looks from Blaze to me and back again, then appears deep in thought. Finally, his expression softens, and he asks, “Hungry?”
