Page 48 of Cage of Starlight
The asshole general who runs this place sings in the shower. Once, Tory catches Menden reciting a love poem to Jeffra from outside the door of the infirmary.
It should have occurred to him to wonder why the building is circular, but he stumbles on the answer by accident. After weeks of gray halls, the unnatural glow from the dead stellite lighting, and the nose-burning scent of cleaning solution in the hallways, he doesn’t know what to do when he inhales and tastes earth.
The scent leads him to a closed door.
He tries his tab on the off chance the area is public access and jolts back when the door unlocks. He opens it to a wide-open, circular garden, like the building itself is a wall made to trap it inside. At night, the garden is alive with insect songs, and above it all is thesky, deep blue and cloudless, strewn with stars. It’s been too long since he’s seen them. He knows none of their names, but the round gravel of a cobblestone path massages his feet through his slippers, the grass on either side of it thick and soft.
Woody vines climb the walls that hem the garden in, throwing off serrated, heart-shaped leaves and a profusion of flowers in shades of indigo and violet. Aside from the colors, they’re just like the onesthat crowd over the walls near the mine in Hulven. The bell-shaped blossoms perfume the air, honey-sweet.
It smells like home, as much as any place can.
A massive tree rises from the center, leaves misted with droplets from the rain that blew through after dinner. It’s a beast of a tree, its trunk ash-brown and gnarled. The vines live here, too, twining around the branches and dropping willowy strings of blooms between the leaves.
That night, Tory falls asleep against the tree and misses the bell for breakfast, waking with just enough time to run to training. Vantaras is less than pleased, but Tory doesn’t care.
Even the mutters ofHey, Special Diet!don’t ruin his evening, because out there in the dark there’s a canopy of stars and that old tree with its blanket of moss and grass, where he can be alone. He eats quickly and disappears, his knowledge of the halls working in his favor when the distinct, staccato ticks of Vantaras’ shoes echo against the floor. He ducks into a dim and dusty storage room until the footsteps pass, then continues on his way.
He gets out to the garden before the sun sets. It’s narrower in daylight—more prison, less paradise. Fine netting on the skeletal dome overhead shields the space from open sky.
Sunset golds settle nicely on the tree, though.
Perhaps the gardens were cultivated at some point, but the place has reclaimed a sort of fenced-in wilderness. Tory inhales the evening damp and treasures how night leeches warmth from the ground as the insects start with their scratchy songs.
Some nights, he doesn’t go back to his room at all.
*
Other nights, he doesn’t even make it to dinner.
Vantaras corners him outside the mess hall, breathless and distracted. “Dr. Helner sent me to find you.”
Right. Their bartering the other day with Tory as the item of interest.
Randall waves from a table in the corner, grin half-eating his freckled face and finger pointing aggressively at whatever’s in his bowl. He mouths something Tory doesn’t catch and waves for Tory to join him. Then he points to a ragged strip of paper dangling from his pocket and waggles his eyebrows. He’s been gambling again. Tory takes a step toward him without thinking, but Vantaras’ extended arm stops him.
“I need you to come with me.”
“And I need you to leave me alone. I’m hungry.”
“Eat later.”
Tory rounds on Vantaras. “Why should I listen to you? Whatever Helner has on you, it’s got nothing to do with me. Why should I care if you keep your end of the bargain?”
“Because if she tells the generals what she alluded to, I won’t be the only one on the chopping block. They’ll look closely at you, too, and as I said before, you don’t want that.”
Tory paces as close to Vantaras as he dares, balled fist aching at his side. “I want to punch you in your smug mouth.”
“You’re welcome to try as soon as we’re finished.”
“What is it she wants to do, anyway?”
Vantaras’ lips thin as he leads Tory down the hall. “One of her experiments, I presume.”
“That’s it?” Tory scrambles to keep up. “Hey! You’ve got to give me more than that.”
“Ask her when you see her. The doctor loves to talk.”
“Tell me,Sena, what is it she has on you?”
