Folding the Sky

-46-

The trains were down, and all the roads out of Sinje ended in a narrow lane of orange dust at the city's border. If Vernon was leaving, there was only one route he could take.

Zuri crouched with the others on the riverbank, hidden in the shadows of the main bridge. The wind was in her hair, a fine, cool spray of freshwater misting across her face. The five of them watched the ships as they rolled in, glistening black monoliths against a gray and droll sky, as if the atmosphere, too, was bracing itself for what was soon to come.

It was just what she'd been afraid of. Zuri said what they all were thinking: "They're all identical. There's no way to tell what ship he's on."

"Chances are he would be in one of the back three," said Kalindi. "Common formation places the lower ranking soldiers there. Where there's less officials there's less security, theoretically, so he could get in without a problem."

"Helpful," said Aldric, his face tense, "but if we don't know which then we still have to check them all."

Jem groaned. "Please don't say what I think you're about to say. No one. No one say it."

Chike sighed, hooking a finger through his belt loop. "I think we have to split up."

Jem slapped a hand to her face. "Famous last words."

"He's right, Jem," Zuri said, glancing at her. "Unless your ability's working well enough now to give us a better clue, splitting up gives us the highest chance at success."

Jem started to speak, but stopped, a pensive frown slowly seeping into her face. Kalindi reached for her, resting a hand on her shoulder, and only then did she sigh and speak again. "I don't like this," she murmured, pulling at a loose thread in her eyepatch, "but I guess we don't have a choice, do we?"

Zuri rose from her crouch, the hem of her dress brushing the ground—far too long for what she was about to do. Alas, she hadn't planned for the day to go like this. None of them had.

She bent slightly, catching a handful of her skirts in her fist and pulling them free. The others watched in awed silence as the torn yellow fabric floated down towards the sod.

"I'll go alone," said Zuri.

The words seemed to electrify Aldric somehow; in only moments he was that much more awake. "Zuri," he gasped. "What the hell are you talking about? You can't—"

"I can," she said, stopping Aldric in his tracks. "I appreciate the concern, Aldric, but I can look after myself. Besides, I know how you are. You'll do better if you don't have to worry about protecting me."

Aldric sputtered, but said nothing.

Chike was shaking his head. "I don't know, Zuri."

"It's simple," she said, though that wasn't precisely true. A lot of it wasn't logic at all, but a gut feeling: a need to prove to herself that she could, to prove to herself that she didn't have to blindly march along with the Queen's plans. "Now that Sorin's run off, there's an uneven number of us. One of us is going to end up alone anyway."

"Yeah, but your ability—"

"Will serve me just fine," Zuri interrupted. "I can use it to see if any of the soldiers have seen Vernon on the ship. If he's not there, fine. If he is..."

She paused. It wouldn't be easy; she knew that. But for the sake of millions of lives, for the sake of everyone who'd died in Mulaim thanks to the Queen's meddling, she had to. She had to, didn't she?

"If he is there," Zuri said, "then I'll take care of him."

Aldric stared at her with an expression she couldn't decipher, probably because it was a mix of so many at once. He was enamored, proud, terrified—like he were looking at a beautiful storm, and not a person.