Page 96 of Storm Caller

“Oh,” I say. “It’s not a big deal. I promise. I’m not one of those birthday people.”

He shakes his head. “Absolutely not. You deserve to be celebrated, Poet Graves. Let’s go.”

32

Rook leads me down the walkway bordering the canal as we pass through several groups of people heading home for the evening.

“Where are we going?” I ask as he turns around and jogs a few steps backward.

He stops and pulls me against him, drawing me into an embrace while the flow of bodies moves around us. He presses a hand to my lower back and the other against my cheek. “I want to wish you a proper happy birthday. Will you let me?”

He’s so earnest that I have no choice but to agree. “That sounds nice.”

“Good,” he says with a grin before we’re on the move again. We turn down a few streets and end up in a plaza with a fountain gurgling in the center.

“Sit here,” he says, directing me to the edge. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“It’s a surprise,” he says, then backs away, tipping his head to confirm I’ll stay put before he turns and disappears through the crowd. I lose him in the crush and resign myself to waiting. A gentle spray of water from the fountain mists my cheeks as I look up at the sky, which is churning with clouds.

I notice a man and a woman, both wearing Extinguisher red, standing at the end of the plaza. They’re studying the crowd, obviously on the lookout, and I turn away before they notice me.

It’s been about a week since I’ve touched Spark, but the prospect of heading to the outskirts grows more dangerous by the day. The alternative is to wait for Sol to take us out of the city again, but it didn’t sound like we’d hear from her soon. I wish I had access to a truck like hers so Rook and I could find somewhere safer to hide.

I lean forward, planting my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hand as I wait, thinking about the conversation with my father, more puzzled than ever. He wanted me to keep quiet about what I saw in the Tiera Frais, even within the walls of his home, but I can’t decide if it’s to protect himself or me. I wonder if I really will hear from him so we can talk. A part of me is sure he’s planning to avoid me.

What is my father hiding, and what is he afraid of?

Rook emerges from the crowd, now carrying a pink box tied with a string.

“What’s this?” I ask as he holds out his hand and draws me up.

“Not yet,” he says with a wink and a soft kiss.

We wind through the streets until we reach a quiet canal where a gondola drifts lazily past. Streetlights illuminate the water, reflecting off the surface like rivers of rippling starlight. When the city is like this, quiet and peaceful, it’s easier to forget the darkness that simmers beneath the surface.

“Almost there,” Rook says, gesturing me toward a ladder leading up. “After you.”

I arch a brow, but he’s having none of my reluctance.

“Let’s go,” he says. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Fine,” I say, stepping up onto the ladder and looking back at him again. He taps my butt.

“C’mon, Graves.”

I relent and climb up the ladder that leads toward a stone balcony a few stories up.

“Here,” Rook declares. I jump off the ladder and then stand at the railing, realizing I can see the main canal winding through the city and the buzzing canopy of the Central Park Tree Farm lit up in purple. Amery stands in the distance, lit like a towering beacon, illuminating the sky.

“Wow,” I say, taking in the view. “How did you find this?”

Rook moves beside me, laying a hand on the railing. “I spent a lot of time exploring the city during my first few months here.”

“Were you supposed to be asleep in bed?” I ask with a coy look.

He smirks. “No one seemed to mind when I left.”