Page 110 of Storm Caller

“It’ll be fine,” he promises, but I’m not so sure about that.

“Poet!” Domino exclaims when my friends appear. She hugs me, followed by Journey, and then Ada sets up some chairs and asks them to sit. Rook remains standing, his hand clasped around mine.

“What’s going on?” Journey asks when no one speaks at first.

Ada glances at Henry sleeping in the corner and then breathes out a sigh. “Let’s start at the beginning.” She pulls up another chair, settles into it, and looks each of us in the eye. “About twenty years ago, my partner was taken by the Extinguishers. She was a Keeper who’d been living in hiding for years. She hadn’t even confided the truth to me, but one day they arrived and took her away while she was screaming and apologizing for lying. Obviously, I forgave her. I understood why she’d kept it from me.”

“What happened to her?” Rook asks.

“I never saw her again,” Ada says with a shake of her head. “But it was shortly after that I realized my true purpose in life. She needed help, not condemnation. I understand that it’s simply easier for The Shield to dispose of Keepers, but I couldn’t abide the lack of humanity in this so-called solution.

“I refused to let my partner’s death be in vain, so I started this movement known as the Fog. The intention was to learn more about Keepers without The Shield’s involvement, but more importantly, to protect them. My people have spent years trying to identify Keepers before the Extinguishers could find them and either get them safely out of the city or do our best to conceal them if they choose to remain in New Manhattan.”

She stops and gives us a moment to allow those words to sink in. I’m too stunned to speak. I suspected some of this. I knew she saw something in the lab that day when she was testing my resistance.

“What do you mean, get them out of the city?” Rook asks. “Where do they go?”

“We run a network of safe houses. Eventually, most make their way to one of the Neo-Cities where they can start new lives.”

The look on Rook’s face suggests he knew nothing about this. I can tell he wants to ask more but is wary of revealing too much about where he comes from.

“I thought the Extinguishers sent them out of the city,” I ask. “Sometimes?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Ada says, her dark brows drawing together.

“The woman I rescued the day of my initiation test,” I say. “They said they’d get her out . . .”

My words trail off. I wondered if they were lying to me that night, but I . . . How could I have believed them?

“I’m sorry,” Ada says.

“Skies,” I whisper, pressing a hand to my chest.

Ada swallows thickly before she continues. “Like many in this city, we don’t agree with the methods used to deal with Keepers. It hasn’t been easy, but we’ve tried to find ways to protect as many as we can.” She presses her hands to her knees, her gaze shifting between Rook and me. “There are more in hiding than you realize, and if you’re okay with it, I’d like to introduce you to a few of them, along with some other members of the Fog.”

I open my mouth and then close it, exchanging a glance with Rook. He nods and squeezes my fingers.

“Yes,” I say. “Of course we want to meet them.”

Ada’s answering smile crinkles the corners of her eyes. “Perfect.”

Then she’s on her feet, calling for someone beyond the door. A moment later, several more people enter the room, including our trainers Brooklyn and Chandler, along with Danica and several other Storm Breakers. They form a loose circle around the edge of the small room, almost like they’re stone pillars protecting a field of wildflowers.

“Wait,” Journey says. “These people are all . . . Keepers?”

Her eyes widen, and she reaches for Domino, clearly prepared to bolt.

“Not everyone, but I assure you that you’re perfectly safe,” Ada says. “And your reaction right now is rooted in propaganda spread by The Shield to ensure you’re all willing to turn in anyone you might suspect. We’ve lost count of the number of people who’ve been wrongly accused, but questions are rarely asked before people are taken.”

“Poet . . .” Domino says softly. “You were hit by Spark, and you’re . . .”

“I’m fine,” I say, gripping the blanket.

“That means your trial was wrong?”

“No,” I answer. “Not technically. I’m not a Keeper. I’m . . . a Storm Caller.”

A ripple circles through the room, and it’s obvious these words mean something to everyone here.