Page 66 of Guiding Desire
“Once you’re healed, which the Op-AI estimates to take the week. The Ferrean group will head out with you, then eventually split up.”
The thought of going on a mission outside the wall should have made Orrey worry more than it did. He couldn’t get over the idea of people living where danger lurked at every turn, the very concept boggling the mind.
Col placed his palm on the scanner, and it gave a satisfied beep before a soft click let the door fall open a crack.
“This is the Wandering Garden,” Col said, pulling the door open all the way. Light followed, not the blinding kind, but thinned-out light filtered through foliage.
Orrey stepped out through the door after Col and followed suit when he opened his parasol. It shut out the green growth all around them, but even so, it was still impressive. The tunnel had spit them out in the center of a stone gazebo with thick hedges around it and five paths leading away from it in a starburst pattern, all seemingly taking them deeper into the hedges.
“What is this place? It’s not agriculture.”
Col chuckled. “Nope. Well, very fertile ground all over this place, but not the way you’re thinking. It’s a maze. There are some berries growing in hidden spots, and there are lots of those. Students sneak off in here to, erm, practice their channeling. Which is to say, to make out. Around the time you turn sixteen, when everyone’s had a chance to learn about how to ask consent from your Conduit, it’s encouraged.”
“That’s when everyone in my cohort started experimenting as well. We didn’t have a hedge maze to do it in.”
Col chuckled. “Frankly? Any bed in student housing is better than the ground or stone benches, but that’s just me. Berry hunting in the Wandering Garden enjoys lasting popularity. I bet you we’ll hear at least three groups before we get out.”
“Do you know the way?”
“Hmm, yes. Mostly yes.”
Col headed for the second path from their right with determined steps. The growth that intruded from all sides made everything claustrophobic, more so than Orrey had ever experienced in any of the smaller public parks. He closed his parasol, wanting at least the open sky above.
“First the tunnel, and now this place. Maybe Senlas had a point about not coming here today,” Orrey mumbled.
Col looked back at him, his smile like weak coffee. “You are taking all this better than I expected.”
“I’m pumped full of three different kinds of medications.”
“That makes my sense of timing only more perfect, then. On the positive, there’s probably nothing at the cookout that’s going to shock you after this,” Col said, then slowed, putting a finger to his lips.
Orrey didn’t have to listen hard to hear the heavy breathing of pleasure, at least one woman on the other side of the hedge, and a male voice, the words so low he couldn’t make them out through the density of the leaves.
They walked past that through the winding maze, which had few hard corners, frustrating, because it added to Orrey’s general sense of feeling lost. At one point, they came to a wider area, a little bower with a fountain in the center and blooming flowers forming a canopy above. Three older students sat on a bench opposite the fountain, kissing and touching. One looked up when he saw Orrey and Col.
“This spot’s taken,” he said.
“Our apologies,” Col said, took Orrey by the arm, and hurried through to the other end of the bower where the hedge welcomed them again.
“We would set up dates at love hotels,” Orrey said.
“I actually think that’s a lot easier, but then you didn’t go to school with Guardians who liked to boast about how well they know the Wandering Gardens and asking you whether you’d like them to show you around.”
“No, just people who could handle a straightforward reservation.”
Col chuckled. “Now I can tell you’re on medication. Being a bit more direct suits you. Try it again when you’re sober too.”
Orrey frowned, then wiped his forehead. It was hot out, and he was getting a little sweaty, which made his healing skin itchy. He opened the parasol again. “I don’t mean to be rude. I apologize.”
Col tilted his own parasol back until it rattled Orrey’s. “Follow my words. Be more rude. I meant it literally, not as a criticism.”
Ahead, the path curved once more, but this time, Orrey heard voices on the other side that weren’t a prelude or interlude to lovemaking, but a cacophony like you’d expect from a party.
“Are we almost there?” he asked.
“Almost. And a good thing too. I haven’t had a chance to eat anything since you made breakfast for us.”
After a few more turns, Orrey could finally see the exit, the path widening and ending in a flowery arch. He sped up until he and Col were shoulder to shoulder, as much as their parasols allowed.
