Chapter 6 of The Other Breed: A City Crawling Up from an Abyss

Most of the soldiers now occupy a space directly underneath the hall. Though Ibei leads us past it and down the stairs, I can’t help but notice that the room has a cafeteria and a target practice area, along with a few other doors which indicate that the space is at least as wide as the vast hall above us. The guards sit at tables, mill around, set themselves to tasks, chat like normal people. I can’t shake the feeling that it’s all too familiar. Especially considering that everyone seems to speak English. They have different accents, and I hear the occasional new word, but why do they know it at all? I’m not sure what I expected, but somehow I was anticipating something stranger.

Beth looks back at Alyssa and whispers, “Have you figured out something to explain this yet?”

Alyssa rolls her eyes, “Yeah, I’m the one to ask.”

We all glance back at Hombre, who’s trying to peek under the hood of the guard walking next to him. From the way Darien seems to be avoiding our eyes, I’m assuming he’s trying to encourage us not to ask questions. Before Beth tries, I tell her, “Don’t bother. He’s not going to answer.”

Beth looks at him for a moment and then sighs, knowing I’m right. As she and Alyssa turn back around, Hombre looks at me and gives me a small nod of approval. A tiny groan of frustration escapes my lips before I turn away. I’m sure he’s got a reason for being so silent and cautious, but it’s not really fun when it means we’re left hanging.

Beth has on a dreamy smile as she says, “Maybe Ki will visit us later and I can try to find a way to get answers out of him.”

“Don’t be vapid,” Alyssa chastises. She slows slightly, crossing her arms as the stairwell starts to shrink and the lights become more of a chartreuse than a white. She frowns for a moment, looking around and then turns to gaze at the hall as the last glimpse of it disappears. She adds, “Men don’t like girls who are vapid.”

Beth scoffs, turning to look at her for a moment before the guard next to her tugs at her arm to keep her walking. She continues forward as she says, “Have you been around men, Alyssa?”

Alyssa huffs, blushing a bit, “I’ve had boyfriends! And dates! I’ve just been . . . busy recently, okay?” She wraps her arms tighter around herself, then realizes she may have over-reacted as Beth gives her a look. She clears her throat, “It doesn’t matter. Fine, some guys like vapid. But a lot of them don’t. You don’t have to act like an idiot to get a boyfriend.”

Beth shakes her head, “Boyfriend? I don’t want a boyfriend.” She catches the silent, doubtful look I give her and says, “What, Carmen? Don’t you get in on this, too.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” I say, holding up my hands.

Alyssa’s already pressing her point, “Sometimes you say you do, Beth. That’s what you tell us when you’re drunk and lonely.”

Beth mutters, “Sometimes I want a girlfriend, too. Or a dog. Or to ace a test. Or a million other things.” She’s now crossing her arms, as well, and her eyes dart up to Darien, well aware that he’s pretending not to be interested for an entirely different reason, now. She looks self-conscious as she snaps, “Why are we talking about this? This is a dumb conversation.”

Neither Alyssa nor I provide an answer, though Alyssa looks a bit irritated at Beth’s tone. Beth sighs and rolls her eyes. Since only two of us can walk side-by-side in the stairwell now, Beth uses that as an excuse to step in front of me and lead the way. The guards seem keen on walking to our left and forcing us into a single-file line, anyways.

I look back at Alyssa, who snaps, “What?”

“Nothing,” I say, with a sigh, trying to ignore how much I feel like the mother of two bickering preteens. I see Ibei glance back at us and I can’t help but wonder what she and the guards must think. Considering that Alyssa and Beth both call themselves friends, you’d think that they could be nicer to each other. Then again, this past semester Alyssa’s been nothing but stressed and sleep-deprived, which hasn’t exactly made her cheery and fun. Even though we all room together, Beth and I have barely seen or talked to her. She probably only went with us this weekend because we got the tickets so long ago. I sigh, fondly remembering the Alyssa of last year, who would spend time with us every night and sometimes even skip a class.

As we continue to descend a trio of tall, brawny men notices us and immediately retreats down the stairs. I only have a few steps to wonder where they’ve gone when we pass a door, to the left. The men stand in the doorway and give an odd, two-fingered salute to Ibei while a number of other soldiers move and stack boxes in the room behind them. Ibei’s slight nod only barely acknowledges them, but, as another group of ascending soldiers also scurries back at the sight of us, it seems pretty clear that Ibei has some obvious authority here.

As we pass the next group, also saluting in a doorway to our left, I think I can see, now, why our guards insisted on walking on that side. We must be tracing the perimeter of the tower, which seems to mean that there won’t be any doors to our right. This conclusion is only enforced by that wall’s intricate, ancient-looking murals. I say ancient because, though the paint’s been touched up in areas, the majority is chipped, fading, or cracked.

From the recurring actions and the small snippets of quotes placed alongside them, I figure that the mural must be telling some kind of story. Some of the more prominent characters have been carved so that they stand out as disease, famine, revolution, and a multitude of other events play out in the flat space behind them. The embossed characters almost always change from panel to panel, and what role they play is only obvious after reading the quotes – something I can only do occasionally at this speed.

Beth looks back at me and notices that I’m staring at the wall as I try to make sense of a vast panoply of war and death, bodies locking in conflict and departing in agony.

“You’ve always seemed to have a thing for art,” she says. I blink and look down at her, but her eyes have turned back to the wall as she muses, “I wonder why they all look kinda like cats . . .”

I blink again, “Cats?”

She frowns, looking back up at me, “Yeah, cats. We’ve been looking at the same thing, right? I mean, obviously faces aren’t the artist’s strong-suit, but . . .”

I squint at the faces. She’s right, they do look a bit like cats now that it’s been pointed out to me. They’re still very human, but the structure of their face hints at feline features, especially with the way their mouth dips up in the middle. Their long widows peaks’ also stand out, though their prominence seems to change with the people’s fashions.

“Some of them have Third Eyes.” Alyssa says, gesturing at the tiny eyes on some of the foreheads, near the base of their widow’s peaks.

“Third Eyes?” Hombre asks, frowning, “Those are Soul Locks.”

“Soul Locks?” Alyssa asks, giving him a look full of scorn. She seems happy to be able to deride him, “I mean, I don’t know what your parents taught you, but – ”

Hombre glares at her, and says, mechanically, “Nevermind. I was wrong. You’re right.” From the way he looks at the guard next to him, it seems like he’s not just trying to avoid an argument. I suspect he’s worried about keeping our story straight, though I have no idea what that story is besides us being travelers looking for refuge.

Alyssa doesn’t seem content that he’s just given up, but Ibei says, abruptly, “Do not dally, we must continue to keep our pace.” I see her standing a bit further ahead of us, hands on her hips. From the way the guards stiffen, somehow I don’t think she’s used to being held up – or likes it.

We increase our pace. After a period of silence, Beth says, over her shoulder, “Do you see that tower, Carmen? It keeps showing up.”

There’s only one tower that she could be referencing. It’s gigantic and glows with a golden light, stretching high over the surrounding city. Its bottom is large, but it all quickly winnows out into a spire, only widening again slightly at its top. The strangest thing about the tower, though, are the rings that surround it. There are five, each interrupted by a small ball and none with any real indication of how they’re attached to the main building.

“They’re building some kind of creature in front of it,” Alyssa adds.

I have to drop my gaze to see what she means. Underneath the tower is a carved progression of images that chronicle the development of a large, spiky creature as it goes from nothing to a skeleton to a form which has flesh and moves. The cat-people are clustered around it, constructing it, their only obvious tool a paintbrush which flourishes around each new iteration of the creature.

I hear Beth ask, “Ibei? What are these murals?”

She glances back and I almost think we’ve offended her because of the pause before she finally says, “We theorize that it depicts the world which is connected to ours. No one except the priests knows for certain, however.”

I hear Hombre let out a breath, quickly cutting in, “There’s a world connected to this one? What do you mean by that?”

She glances back at us, her stern face pulled into a suspicious glare, “The reason we protect these towers is because of their connection to the other worlds. Even if you’ve been living at the bottom of a pit in Domath you should’ve at least heard rumors. Why would you be here without even knowing that?”

Hombre starts, “I meant – ”

She looks at him, her eyes shrewd as she says, sharply, “Considering how cautious you seem to be in regards to your answers, perhaps it would be best to avoid giving us more information to ponder. At least in this space.”

Hombre clamps his mouth shut, scratching the back of his head in frustration so that his tawny hair now sticks up oddly. Beth, Alyssa and I exchange hesitant glances before we fall silent. I try to avoid looking at the murals and instead focus on the stairs.

In front of us the stairwell opens up into a lobby just as large and magnificent as the one above. There’s no giant statue, but a number of pillars stretch to the roof, dragons and women twisting through them. The ceiling and walls are covered with the continuations of the murals. Though the lobby above had been just as populated as this one, at least initially, this one’s fullness is much more obvious, as the people walk easily here instead of hiding. Most of the people are soldiers, who mill around in relaxed groups or march on patrol, but a number of people without uniforms sit on benches or stand in lines in front of windows full of tellers. Some of the people are engaged in loud conversations and others are reading books or tablets or stacks of paper. On an upper level there are a number of offices, with a few storefronts interspersed between them. Though people meander on the balconies and browse the stores, the center of activity is clearly below them.

“Whoever these people are, they dress nicely,” Beth remarks to me as we make our way down the stairs, gazing at one of the lines of people. She pauses a moment before she adds, “Well, most of them.”

I look around, frowning, “This place looks like a bunch of fashion models escaped from the runway. Not one of those normal fashion shows, though, more like one of those crazy ones you’re so into.” One of the women wears a feathery, poofy dress that I’m almost certain I saw in a video Beth had me watch last month.

Beth rolls her eyes, “Stop pretending you don’t like seeing them. For the last time, it’s called haute couture.” She considers a stately man, whose bunched-up coat is swirled with the colors of the sunset, and the desperate-looking woman next to him, whose clothes have been patched so many times that it’s impossible to tell which parts of them are from the original cloth. Beth shakes her head, “It doesn’t look like everybody’s got the money to dress nicely.”

She’s right. Many of these people wear elaborate costumes but some aren’t in much more than rags. It doesn’t seem to be a fashion statement, either. Those in less extravagant clothes have tried to find ways to make their outfits look more presentable, gazing at their neighbors with a combination of envy and awe. One woman’s woven what must be a whole flower bush into her hair and the seams of her heavily starched and patched clothes, and a group of men has dyed their tattered clothing so that they all stick out with their bright, ugly colors.

Beth stops momentarily, staring, and I have to gently push her forward so that she keeps walking through the lobby.

“Carmen, we might be in trouble,” she whispers.

I follow the direction of her gaze to see the furs and strangely textured skin that denoted Iifa’s warriors. I’m not sure how I hadn’t noticed these people earlier, but now I realize that they’re all over the place. For a moment I panic, but none of them seem hostile. In fact, from the wary glances they shoot at both us and those around them, they seem nervous, protective, almost scared. None of them are alone, and their wide stances and crossed-arms belie their smiles and polite tones as they talk to those around them.

“I think we’re alright,” I tell Beth. “They don’t look like they want to cause problems. Though, they don’t look comfortable, either, I guess.”

She nods, slowly, a frown crossing her face as we pass a man with the same skin but no furs. He seems much more comfortable than the others, laughing animatedly with a small, round woman next to him. “This is weird,” Beth mutters. “Why are some of them acting different?”

“What, you expect everyone to be the same?”

“It’d make it easier to know who to trust,” she says, glancing back at Hombre.

I follow her gaze. Hombre’s expression is dark as he examines the people around us. His eyes catch on a little boy, dressed in his best rags, and I see Hombre’s eyebrows twist together.

“Do you think we’re supposed to leave that way?” Alyssa asks, right behind us as she gestures at a door across the lobby – the only one I’ve seen thus far that leads outside of the tower.

“Probably,” I respond, my eyes fixing on it. It looks like we’re below that huge glass panel, now. I can see the sheen of it through the top of the opening, past the doors, though I can’t make out anything else from this angle.

Beth shakes her head, “Where do you think we’re going?”

Alyssa answers with a grimace, “No idea, but some of these people look like they’re hoping it’s a torture chamber.”

Beth gives her a horrified look.

“I’d assume they’re freaked out by the unnecessary soldiers,” Hombre remarks loudly from behind us. I see the guards turn their heads toward each other and I’m sure that looks of annoyance are hiding underneath their hoods.

“Maybe you shouldn’t taunt them?” I suggest in a low voice, entirely too aware of how huge they all are. Beth nods in agreement.

Hombre shrugs, seemingly unintimidated, “Well, seven soldiers for four people seems a bit excessive.”

“Somehow I don’t think you suggesting that to them makes them convinced that they’re unnecessary,” I respond.

He shrugs, “Worth a shot.” Then he looks at the guard next to him, “Do we look dangerous to you?”

The man doesn’t respond.

Hombre grimaces, “Alright, just do as you’re told, then.”

“Why are you being so antagonistic?” I ask him.

He sighs, shrugs, and falls quiet.

I can’t help but notice, now that Alyssa’s pointed it out, how many people are glaring at us. Hombre’s probably right that it’s just the guards, but it’s not making me feel any better.

I wish, briefly, that Cal were here. I can hear his ridiculous, almost too-loud laughter now, “Why are you freaked out? This is nothing. You’re fine, Carmen.”

Even if things weren’t fine, Cal’s always had a way of making them become that way, at least for me. I remember one time when his drunk friend tried to sneak into my room, how Cal and Miguel caught him and Cal decked him in the eye while screaming insults in both Spanish and English, like he needed to make sure some of them stuck. I never saw that ‘friend’ of his again. I’m sure that guy knew that, if I had, Cal would’ve come after him. To be honest, Cal’s always had a bit of a guardian-angel complex, but since he’s got the body of a thug no one really questions him. He inherited my father’s temper, but whatever self-loathing he’s developed he never turned it outwards.

I find my hand going to my wrist for my bracelet, but it isn’t there. I have a moment of panic before I remember that I hid it in my bra. I sigh. Oh, Cal. What would you say now that your ‘smart’ sister’s gotten herself into all this?

As we leave through the giant doors, the heat assaults us, the tangy smell of hot metal wafting up from the catwalk underneath our feet. I fan myself in annoyance, but the heat quickly becomes the least of my worries. My stomach does a flip as I look down and realize just how far the tower extends below us.

“Oh, God,” I hear Beth mutter, her hand flying to the closest railing. Ibei looks back, her brow furrowed. She seems to not have considered that height would be a difficulty for us.

I can’t see the bottom of the hole we’re suspended above, but it seems that it might go to the very center of the earth. An extensive number of supports and beams connect the tower to the wall, but I can’t help but wonder how solid it all is. The tower seems old, like it’s stood for a long time, and I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.

Ibei keeps walking forward, and Beth and I follow cautiously behind. From Alyssa’s careful steps I can tell she’s a bit freaked out, too. I wonder, vaguely, what Hombre’s expression might be, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the sights that surround us.

We’ve exited near the top, and though the glass is still a few stories higher up, not much interrupts the space above us. The catwalk is empty, but only until it blends into the walkways of a small park, the circular, green area braced on the bottom so that the tower lends it support. Many, many other catwalks connect to the park, crisscrossing the void between the tower and the walls, all of them bustling with life. The catwalks are layered, connecting simply in some areas and in others looking like an artistic sculpture, all of them managing to balance filling the space while allowing for light to filter down.

Alyssa squeaks, “This . . . doesn’t make sense.”

I look back at her to see that she’s stopped. I can see Hombre, still behind us, hesitate. From the look on his face he seems like he wants to say something, but after a moment he decides against it. I narrow my eyes, wondering what it could be, but he avoids my stare and instead looks around, still seeming more curious than surprised. I still don’t know what his reactions mean, but I plan on figuring out soon.

Alyssa’s shaking her head in disbelief, staring at the walls, “Do you see this, Carmen? Beth?”

“Keep walking, Alyssa,” I say as the guard next to her starts to reach for her elbow. Alyssa notices his movement and snatches her arm away, giving him a dirty look before starting to walk again. The guard pauses for a moment, surprised, before striding back into place. Hombre grins as he starts to follow behind Alyssa, his eyes on the guard, who’s steadily ignoring him.

“You see the walls, right Carmen?” Alyssa asks again. “This is like something out of a book. How do you think it all works?”

As we catch up to a very nervous, very pale Beth, I finally tear my eyes away from the drop and look to see what Alyssa’s muttering about. I let out a small gasp.

The walls of the pit are blossoming with buildings, their colors bright and varying, the designs elegant and considered. Not only is each building beautiful on its own, but each also seems to have been built in tandem with the others, in order to highlight their aesthetics. Though the coordination seems to diminish the further down it all goes, up here it’s startlingly beautiful. The buildings catch and reflect the light that shines down from the glass ceiling, dispersing it further into the pit with the help of a few strategically-placed mirrors.

Next to me, Alyssa’s rationalizing, more for herself than anyone else, “I suppose those towers in the middle are one way to get more out of the space.”

She must be referring to the tall pillars which mark a halfway point between the large tower and the walls. Somehow I hadn’t noticed these columns before, but I see now that they’re filled with windows and provide additional anchoring for the maze of walkways.

Alyssa asks, “Does that make sense, Carmen?”

I look at her. Her eyes are huge, darting around quickly, and her mouth is slightly open. I ask her, “Are you alright?”

She blinks and looks at me, “What?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I was just trying to figure out how they ventilate this place. I think there might be holes in the glass or something – ”

Beth, in front of me, sucks in a breath and says, “Alyssa, can you please stop talking?” Her hand is gripping the railing tight enough that her knuckles are white.

Alyssa waves her hand, “Oh, calm down, Beth. We’re not going to fall. Nobody else is falling.” She starts to muse again, “There are fields down there. And waterfalls.” She shakes her head, “I was wondering how they would be able to survive if they didn’t get a lot of travelers, but this is its own, confined system. I don’t think they need anyone else.” I look to see her drawing closer to the railing as we walk, clearly excited, though the guard next to her seems a bit wary about the movement. “Carmen, do you see those trains? This is so bizarre.”

Beth makes a gagging noise, “Can you shut up right now, Alyssa? I’m having a crisis.”

“Er, do you need help?” I ask as we near the end of the catwalk and approach the park. Between the two of them I’m not sure who seems more like they’re about to snap.

“No,” Beth says, and I catch her guilty glance at the bruises on my arm.

I sigh as I say, “Alright.” I turn to look back at Hombre again, wondering if anything’s changed, if I can discern some clue about all of this from his expression.

This time, though, he’s expecting my gaze. My heart jumps as he meets my eyes with a half-smile, “What, are you making sure I don’t run away or something?”

I’m sure I’m going to stutter as I mock surprise, “How did you know?”

“Just turn around. I’ll let you know if I decide to bolt.” He looks down, “Though I’d probably need wings or something.” The guard next to him shifts, as if preparing himself for the possibility.

Beth groans, “Shut up, you’re not funny.”

Hombre looks at her, raising his eyebrows, “Okay. Sorry, Beth.”

I roll my eyes and finally grab her hand. She looks at me with surprise and then inhales a sharp, steadying breath. She locks her eyes on Ibei, ahead of us, who walks with enough confidence that I’m sure she can spare some. Maybe Beth’s hoping to catch some from her.

We’re now moving through the park, and I watch as a girl with blonde hair and a patterned dress is pulled into the protective hug of her tall, gangly boyfriend. Great. I’m starting to get annoyed with people treating us like a threat, especially as I’m usually seen as the opposite.

Even though we seem to inspire suspicion, at least the guards help us to get through the crowds populating the catwalks. People scurry out of our way at the sight of them, and the guards seem to expect nothing less. Ibei keeps our pace steady, winding us toward the walls and the large pillars in between.

“This is so strange,” Alyssa says. She pauses a moment and then turns to Hombre, “Don’t you dare mistake my fascination for wanting to stay here forever, alright? I want to go home.”

“You think you’re the only one who misses home?” he asks, wearily. I look back, surprised to hear him talk about something personal, but he’s already turned from us as he contemplates the city-scape, trying to suppress the emotions that ripple across his face and cause dots of colors to dart through his irises.

Alyssa faces back forward and doesn’t say anything. From the way her eyebrows turn up, though, she looks almost guilty. I look at Beth, next to me, but she’s too wrapped up in trying not to panic. Except for Alyssa’s occasional musings we all fall silent, weaving our way through the catwalks and crowds, heading toward the wall. We keep pace with Ibei and the guards until we reach a fairly deserted pathway, which leads directly to one of the pillars.

Beth sees its transparent floor, sucks in a breath, and stops. “Carmen, I can’t do this. I want to go back to the tower. I’ll lie on the floor in that stupid lobby, but I can’t – ”

I look at her, “Are you serious? You’re always the one who smashes bugs in the apartment. Why are you so freaked out?”

She looks at me, her eyes wide and incredulous, “That was a bug. This is me dying. I could die.”

“Beth, you’re brave. Braver than me. You can do this,” I respond. The guards seem impatient, and I can see Ibei starting to slow, turning back to us with a grimace. I don’t know if I like her. Even if Ki was a bit abrupt, at least he seemed to have some diplomacy.

“Beth,” Alyssa tries to sound gentle, “Spiders can kill you, too.”

“You’re not helping, Alyssa,” Beth retorts.

Alyssa keeps talking, anyways, “There are people working on the pathways if you look, so they’re maintained. There’s nothing to worry about. You’re safe. Stop freaking out.”

Hombre adds in, “Alyssa’s right.” She looks at him in surprise as he continues, “You think they’d let so many people walk on paths that weren’t going to hold?”

Beth stares at him, nods, and takes a deep breath.

Ibei’s glaring at us, though she doesn’t say anything. I reassure Beth, “I’m here beside you, alright? We’re going to walk together.”

She nods again and I guide her forward. I’ve never known her to be religious, but she starts reciting Hail Marys as if they’re the only thing holding the path together.

If I’m being honest, I have a lump in my throat, too, but I’m more scared of the guards right now. They seem to command respect from the way people avoid them, and when someone commands respect like that you know they’ve done something to earn it. I don’t want to doubt Hombre, but . . . I guess I just have to be watchful.

Beneath us, the drop stretches down into the earth further than I can even see. I feel dizzy, so I turn my chin up and look straight forward, resolving not to think about the drop or how fragile the path may be or how many people on it are too many people on it. Even if the solidity of the clear catwalk below us is questionable, the railing at least looks sturdy, stretching up into a frame so that it’s like we’re in a tunnel. The guards, marching next to me, seem unfazed, so I try to take their cue. After Beth’s fiftieth or so Hail Mary we finally reach the other side, a walkway directly attached to one of the pillars. The pillar only has a story or two above us, though it stretches just as far below as the main tower.

Beth releases a sigh of relief, muttering to me, “I’m not sure this is actually better, but I feel better.”

I give her a reassuring smile as Ibei leads us around the pillar to an opening, all of us close behind her. My eyes still wander, but I’m glad to finally enter a building and get some respite from the dazzling outer world. Inside are some elevators, partitioned separately from a set of heavily guarded doors that lead into what seems to be another military outpost. It’s here that we finally come to a stop, facing the elevators.

Only a few people are waiting here. All of them look weary, as if weighed down, and wear boring, functional attire. Only one of them, a middle-aged woman with a dozen bags on her arms, is wearing elaborate clothes like those I saw before, but she’s so sunken that her polka-dot patterned dress is almost too big for her.

The elevator buzzes and the doors open. None of the other people even make a move to enter, they just watch as we file in, the guards evenly dispersed around us. Ibei presses a number on the display and the doors close in a circular motion, blocking out the hum of the city outside. The elevator descends.

Ibei speaks, finally, “We’re placing you in a room in the ambassadors’ living spaces. I will leave the guards outside your door for now, but should you cause any problems we will station them inside the room. A copy of our laws and other important documents will be left for you. Please take care. Punishments can be severe for violations.”

We’re silent, and she takes this for assent. The elevator opens into another partitioned area, and this time Ibei crosses the space and goes through the glass doors across from us. We follow and enter into a hotel, with balconies and rooms surrounding the main floor. She leads us toward a small waterfall, which is next to a reception area with a counter. A dining room and gardens take up most of this level, but they’re basically empty. Above us the walls are made up almost entirely of milky glass, which conceals the interiors of the rooms from sight while still allowing some light to pass through.

Ibei addresses the balding man at the desk, “Guests of the Highest.”

The man jumps, and then sets his fingers flying across a keyboard. He has a key in no time and hands it to her with a nervous smile, his eyes darting to the guards.

Ibei leads us to another elevator, which we take to the top ring of rooms. When it stops, she steps out, walks a bit, and then stands next to one of the doors. We follow as the soldiers position themselves on either side. As she opens it, she tells us, “Please refresh yourselves. We will bring you food and I will return later to brief you.”

I’m not looking forward to that. I give her a smile, anyways, but she doesn’t return it, instead stepping aside and gesturing for us to enter. Once we’re in the room, she gives us a tight nod, shuts the door, and locks it without bothering to give us a key. I shift, uncomfortable, feeling like a prisoner. For some reason, I swear the taste of ash is in my mouth again, the touch of cobwebs on my skin. I shiver and compose myself, looking around.

It’s more an apartment than a “room.” The walls are made of glass that glows, all of it etched with delicate designs. The living room is huge, with a small kitchen to the side and doors to a porch which wraps around the whole outside of the expanse, providing a view of the city. There’s a pool that stretches from the living room into a greenhouse, small waterfalls dripping down the wall and into it, and three doors are on the far side of the apartment. The furniture is very modern and minimalist, but it looks comfortable enough.

I sink into a couch and Beth and Alyssa join me. Though Beth has a contented smile, Alyssa eyes the place with suspicion. I look over at Hombre.

“So, Hombre . . .” I begin, “What the hell is going on?”

He sighs.