Page 166 of Stormbreaker

I scan our surroundings, searching for a clue.

A hand lands on my shoulder, and I jump, only to find Trinity smiling at me. Her red hair is pulled back into a high knot, and her gray eyes are searching.

“Well done,” she says. “And congratulations.”

“Thanks,” I say. “How have you been?”

“Good.” She pauses before she draws me into a long hug. “I’m proud of you.”

Then she pulls back, studies my face with a tight smile, turns around, and walks away.

60

Later that night, Rook and I sit by the fire in our room, trying to make sense of everything that happened.

“Why didn’t their device work on us?” I ask. “Was it defective, or was it just us?”

“I don’t think it was defective,” Rook answers, reading something on his phone. We’ve tossed some pillows on the floor, and he’s leaning against one with his arm tucked under his head. The orange light reflects off his nose and cheeks, highlighting the crown of his dark hair. “This says they’ve already caught numerous people by using them. I think they work.”

I huff out a breath, tucking my knees up under me. “Unless they’re lying,” I say. “Trying to make it look like they’re doing something.”

“That’s possible,” he says. “But something tells me they aren’t.”

“We’re different,” I say. “I’m sure of it. Something about us is different. Right?”

He glances at me and then looks away, staring at the fire.

“What?” I ask. “There’s something you haven’t been saying.”

Rook sighs and sits up, pulling a knee toward his chest.

“I wasn’t entirely truthful with you when I said I’d never met another Keeper,” he starts. “They’re pretty common in the Wastes.”

I’m not all that surprised to hear this. “Why did you lie about it?”

He shakes his head. “Because I wasn’t sure that I could trust you yet. But I don’t think I’m the same as the other Keepers. I thought I was the only one, but then I met you.” I study him, waiting for him to continue. “Part of the reason I came to New Manhattan was to find out why I’m different. I don’t think I am a Keeper, at least not in the way it’s always been defined. And I don’t think you are, either. The truth is, I told you I’d never touched another Keeper during a storm, but I have. It had no effect. What happened with us—that was new.”

“So, what are we?” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “I’m not sure.”

“Why do you want to know? Other than the obvious?”

He rubs his jaw. “I’ve always wondered if I might be protected from the madness.”

I stare at him, weighing the implications of that. “And you think The Shield knows what you are? That you exist?”

“Possibly.”

“If they knew, wouldn’t they tell us?” I ask.

He shrugs. “They might have something to gain from our ignorance.”

“Like what?”

Again, he shakes his head. “I’m not sure.”

“But you have a hunch.”