Silver Shadows
Page 51
“Don’t you feel ashamed?” she prodded. “Don’t you feel dirty and used up? Even if you graduate from here, do you think any of your own kind would ever want to touch you after letting yourself be used like that?”
That took me aback for a moment because it echoed so closely the fears Carly had once had when justifying why she couldn’t tell anyone about what Keith had done to her. I should’ve given some contrite response, but instead I answered Sheridan with a variation of what I’d told Carly. “I’d hope that whomever I’m with next will see me and value me for the person I am inside. None of the rest will matter.”
Sheridan’s expression turned to one of pity. “I don’t think you’ll ever find anyone like that.”
I already have, I thought. And he’s coming to get me out of here and away from you.
Aloud, I said simply, “I don’t know, ma’am.” Admitting your own ignorance was always a safe bet around here.
“Well,” she said, “let’s hope you’re less delusional about vampires than you are about how you’ve sullied yourself. How do you feel about him now?”
I knew better than to even breathe the truth on that. “He betrayed me,” I said simply. “He was supposed to meet me the night I was brought here, and he never showed. I was deceived.”
It was a lie none of them could disprove. In fact, no Alchemist really knew entirely what I’d been doing the night I was taken. Let them think they’d thwarted some reunion with Adrian and me, thus helping turn me against him.
“That’s what they do, Sydney,” Sheridan said, looking very pleased. “They deceive.”
When we disbanded, I noticed a few of my fellow detainees—some of whom I thought I’d made strides with—physically avoiding me as they had in the early days. “What’s that about?” I muttered to Emma, who was walking near me.
“Sheridan helped remind them of how tainted you are,” she explained.
My heart sank a little as I gazed after them. “Do they really believe that? I thought some of them . . .”
I couldn’t finish, but Emma knew my thoughts. “Were just playing along to survive here? Some are, but even if they haven’t been reprogrammed, they’ve learned enough to survive here. And part of survival is steering clear from people who’ll get you in trouble. You crossed a line—no, you trampled it, and even if they think what you did is okay, they know they can’t let Sheridan and the others think so.”
“What do you think?” I asked.
She gave me a tight smile. “I think you and your ink are a good precaution in case they ever try to mess with my mind. But I’m also going to keep my distance. See you later.”
She hurried off, and I spent the rest of the day formulating my plan, wishing it was more solid than it was. When I was in the bathroom that evening, I popped one of Addison’s gum sticks into my mouth, chewing until I hoped I’d mustered up a sticky enough result. I kept it in my hand as I left and then brushed my hand against the door as I entered my room, right over the place the bolt entered. I hoped the system was as touchy as Duncan had claimed and that the one piece had been enough. I’d nearly used both but thought a second might be useful in the future. I slipped it into my sock.
Later, when the lights went out, I heard a click at the door but didn’t know if it had been successful. I crept out of bed and tentatively approached the slit of light, waiting and listening to make sure no one was outside. They weren’t. Gingerly, I tried to slide the door open a crack . . . and succeeded. The bolt hadn’t worked! I exhaled a deep breath and braced myself for the next part of the task: getting out unseen.
I’d used invisibility spells in the past, once even to break into an Alchemist facility, which seemed ironic in my current situation. They weren’t easy, otherwise—as Ms. Terwilliger had noted—everyone would use them. The best coverage required a lot of spell components and ideally an amulet. Even then, the spell would often be unraveled if someone knew to look for you. I had nothing to aid me here, only the knowledge of a small spell and my own power to pull it off. It would last thirty minutes at most and be susceptible to anyone searching for me or who looked me directly in the eye. It would protect me from cameras, however, and my big gamble was that the halls would be deserted this time of night, when our masters thought we were all locked in and drugged.
I didn’t know what kind of shifts the Alchemists pulled, but I had to assume personnel would thin out later. So I sat back on my bed for a half hour, hoping by then that everyone would have settled down for a quiet night. Before returning to the door, I stuffed my pillow under the covers. Between that and the near darkness, I hoped it wouldn’t be obvious that the bed was empty to anyone glancing at the surveillance screens. At the door, I murmured the incantation as quietly as I could, not wanting to tip Emma off to my true nature. Meaning and focus were more important than volume, and I felt another exhilarating surge of power course through me as I finished speaking. The spell, such as it was, had worked, and now the clock was ticking. After again making sure no one was in the hall, I slowly slid the door open, just enough to slip through, and then closed it again. That was one of the other difficult parts of invisibility spells: just because you were invisible, it didn’t mean your actions were. Someone seeing a door open by itself would give me away just as much as bumping into a person, so I had to make sure all my movements were small and cautious, attracting as little attention as possible.
The dorm hall was empty, with only the cameras keeping sentry, and I hurried toward the nexus where other corridors intersected. There, I found my first Alchemist on guard duty, a hard-faced man I’d never seen before who was texting on his phone as he stood stationed in a spot that let him supervise all the halls. He never looked up as I moved quietly and slowly past him, turning down the hall that led to the elevators. It was still amazing to me that the only exit off the floor didn’t even lead outside in an emergency, but I supposed the Alchemists felt it was better to risk our lives than give us more escape points.
When I reached the elevators, I realized they’d taken precautions there too—precautions that I’d completely let slip my mind. You couldn’t even push the button for the elevator without first scanning your ID card. I’d seen our Alchemist jailers do it many times, but I’d left it out of my plan. The elevator was inaccessible to me, as was the similarly access-controlled stairwell next to it. Otherwise, we detainees would’ve constantly been trying to use them. As I stood staring, trying to find a work-around, a ding indicated the elevator’s arrival and that the doors were about to open. I hastily stepped to the side and out of direct sight. A moment later, the elevator opened and Sheridan came out.
That took me aback for a moment because it echoed so closely the fears Carly had once had when justifying why she couldn’t tell anyone about what Keith had done to her. I should’ve given some contrite response, but instead I answered Sheridan with a variation of what I’d told Carly. “I’d hope that whomever I’m with next will see me and value me for the person I am inside. None of the rest will matter.”
Sheridan’s expression turned to one of pity. “I don’t think you’ll ever find anyone like that.”
I already have, I thought. And he’s coming to get me out of here and away from you.
Aloud, I said simply, “I don’t know, ma’am.” Admitting your own ignorance was always a safe bet around here.
“Well,” she said, “let’s hope you’re less delusional about vampires than you are about how you’ve sullied yourself. How do you feel about him now?”
I knew better than to even breathe the truth on that. “He betrayed me,” I said simply. “He was supposed to meet me the night I was brought here, and he never showed. I was deceived.”
It was a lie none of them could disprove. In fact, no Alchemist really knew entirely what I’d been doing the night I was taken. Let them think they’d thwarted some reunion with Adrian and me, thus helping turn me against him.
“That’s what they do, Sydney,” Sheridan said, looking very pleased. “They deceive.”
When we disbanded, I noticed a few of my fellow detainees—some of whom I thought I’d made strides with—physically avoiding me as they had in the early days. “What’s that about?” I muttered to Emma, who was walking near me.
“Sheridan helped remind them of how tainted you are,” she explained.
My heart sank a little as I gazed after them. “Do they really believe that? I thought some of them . . .”
I couldn’t finish, but Emma knew my thoughts. “Were just playing along to survive here? Some are, but even if they haven’t been reprogrammed, they’ve learned enough to survive here. And part of survival is steering clear from people who’ll get you in trouble. You crossed a line—no, you trampled it, and even if they think what you did is okay, they know they can’t let Sheridan and the others think so.”
“What do you think?” I asked.
She gave me a tight smile. “I think you and your ink are a good precaution in case they ever try to mess with my mind. But I’m also going to keep my distance. See you later.”
She hurried off, and I spent the rest of the day formulating my plan, wishing it was more solid than it was. When I was in the bathroom that evening, I popped one of Addison’s gum sticks into my mouth, chewing until I hoped I’d mustered up a sticky enough result. I kept it in my hand as I left and then brushed my hand against the door as I entered my room, right over the place the bolt entered. I hoped the system was as touchy as Duncan had claimed and that the one piece had been enough. I’d nearly used both but thought a second might be useful in the future. I slipped it into my sock.
Later, when the lights went out, I heard a click at the door but didn’t know if it had been successful. I crept out of bed and tentatively approached the slit of light, waiting and listening to make sure no one was outside. They weren’t. Gingerly, I tried to slide the door open a crack . . . and succeeded. The bolt hadn’t worked! I exhaled a deep breath and braced myself for the next part of the task: getting out unseen.
I’d used invisibility spells in the past, once even to break into an Alchemist facility, which seemed ironic in my current situation. They weren’t easy, otherwise—as Ms. Terwilliger had noted—everyone would use them. The best coverage required a lot of spell components and ideally an amulet. Even then, the spell would often be unraveled if someone knew to look for you. I had nothing to aid me here, only the knowledge of a small spell and my own power to pull it off. It would last thirty minutes at most and be susceptible to anyone searching for me or who looked me directly in the eye. It would protect me from cameras, however, and my big gamble was that the halls would be deserted this time of night, when our masters thought we were all locked in and drugged.
I didn’t know what kind of shifts the Alchemists pulled, but I had to assume personnel would thin out later. So I sat back on my bed for a half hour, hoping by then that everyone would have settled down for a quiet night. Before returning to the door, I stuffed my pillow under the covers. Between that and the near darkness, I hoped it wouldn’t be obvious that the bed was empty to anyone glancing at the surveillance screens. At the door, I murmured the incantation as quietly as I could, not wanting to tip Emma off to my true nature. Meaning and focus were more important than volume, and I felt another exhilarating surge of power course through me as I finished speaking. The spell, such as it was, had worked, and now the clock was ticking. After again making sure no one was in the hall, I slowly slid the door open, just enough to slip through, and then closed it again. That was one of the other difficult parts of invisibility spells: just because you were invisible, it didn’t mean your actions were. Someone seeing a door open by itself would give me away just as much as bumping into a person, so I had to make sure all my movements were small and cautious, attracting as little attention as possible.
The dorm hall was empty, with only the cameras keeping sentry, and I hurried toward the nexus where other corridors intersected. There, I found my first Alchemist on guard duty, a hard-faced man I’d never seen before who was texting on his phone as he stood stationed in a spot that let him supervise all the halls. He never looked up as I moved quietly and slowly past him, turning down the hall that led to the elevators. It was still amazing to me that the only exit off the floor didn’t even lead outside in an emergency, but I supposed the Alchemists felt it was better to risk our lives than give us more escape points.
When I reached the elevators, I realized they’d taken precautions there too—precautions that I’d completely let slip my mind. You couldn’t even push the button for the elevator without first scanning your ID card. I’d seen our Alchemist jailers do it many times, but I’d left it out of my plan. The elevator was inaccessible to me, as was the similarly access-controlled stairwell next to it. Otherwise, we detainees would’ve constantly been trying to use them. As I stood staring, trying to find a work-around, a ding indicated the elevator’s arrival and that the doors were about to open. I hastily stepped to the side and out of direct sight. A moment later, the elevator opened and Sheridan came out.
