Page 109 of Stormbreaker

As the ferry putters down the main canal, the streets empty. Lights flicker across the buildings, some of them going dark.

The boat docks at the last stop, and Rook and I hop off before turning to walk the rest of the way. Once we enter the ruins on the city’s edge, I ask, “Have you been out here before?”

“Not here,” he says. “I didn’t know of this exit until I followed you that day.”

“Why did you follow me?”

He pauses up ahead and looks back. “No reason.” Then he turns and continues down a narrow alley.

“Wow, great answer.” Apparently, my sarcasm doesn’t warrant a response.

We keep walking, and he stops to wait for me as I climb over a fallen beam.

“But you’ve been going somewhere else?” I ask.

“I have a few different spots,” he answers. “I know the outskirts well.”

Right, of course he does.

“How far away is your . . . home?” I ask, not sure why I choke on the final word. I’m intensely curious about his life.

“You don’t have to say it like that,” he replies dryly. “I do have a home. It’s probably not that different from yours. Four walls and windows and everything. Kind of. Probably not as fancy, I suppose.”

Skies, why am I constantly sticking my foot in my mouth?

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t . . . I feel so . . . Never mind what I said. You should assume all kinds of bad things about me. I only know what we’ve been told, but I can already see—”

I cut myself off. I was about to say something I shouldn’t. Something I’m not supposed to say.

“See what?” he asks, clearly goading me further.

“That maybe not everything I’ve been told is . . . totally accurate.”

He cocks his head.

“Well, some of it is,” he says as we keep walking side by side. “We do eat our babies when there isn’t enough food. It’s a shame because they don’t provide much meat, but it’s tender and juicy at least. Goes nicely with the blood of virgins. The cafeteria has been a real change of pace. And before Amery, I hadn’t had a proper bath in years. Also, that thing you hear about us sacrificing the hearts of our elders to some gods in the sky is true. It’s much messier than you think, but it is effective.”

He reaches the end of his monologue, and that’s definitely the most I’ve ever heard him speak without taking a breath. I don’t even care if he’s mocking me; it’s just nice to hear him talk.

“Okay, point taken,” I answer. “I’m a complete and utter fool and an unbearable snob for believing any of that.”

He smirks as we reach the end of the wreckage, checking to see if the coast is clear. The clouds tumble overhead, and I realize I’ve been so absorbed in talking to Rook that I barely noticed the itching under my skin.

“What’s it like for you?” I ask. “When the storms come?”

He peers up at the clouds and then at the Storm Towers looming in the distance.

“It feels like I’m coming out of my skin,” he answers. “Like I want to peel it off and offer up my insides to the sky.”

His words tear a jagged hole in the fabric of my reality because I understand exactly what he means. For the first time in my life, there’s someone else I can share this with.

He takes a few steps closer to the edge of a hollowed-out building and then glances back. “Ready?”

I nod, and we head for the high rock wall and the tunnel cut through it. I’m looking back and don’t realize he’s stopped.

I stumble as I crash into him. He steadies me with a firm hand, his fingers wrapping around my waist. His touch burns through my coat, and a short exhale blasts past my lips.

We both go still.