“And if they don’t reach an agreement?” I say.

“We have to trust that Ben…that your dad, and Tristan, can convince the moon dwellers to join us.”

Tristan.Dad. Elsey. My desire to see them again springs up so quickly it takes my breath away. I swallow it back down. “Okay, I’ll do it,” I say. “But I won’t fight the moon dwellers.”

“I know. If it comes to that, we’ll figure something out together.”

The tension leaves my body and I manage a crooked smile. “Sounds good. Is there any way we can contact Dad now? He doesn’t even know that I’ve found you.”

My mom’s expression turns grim. “I’ve been thinking about that too. I can’t come up with anything. All the comms from this place are being monitored by the star dweller army. The generals get reports on any suspicious contact with the other realms. Everyone’s worried about spies. We’ll just have to wait for Ben to get in touch with us.”

“I can wait a little longer,” I say.

Mom’s head jerks up suddenly, as if she’s just remembered something, or had an idea. “If you’re going to join the rebels, you’ll need this,” she says, reaching behind her and pulling out something L-shaped and black.

My mom gives me a gun. I stare at it like I don’t know what it is. I ready myself, knowing I am about to wake up from a dream. Soon I’ll wake up in my cell back in the Pen. No, farther back than that. At home, with my mom cooking stew, my father cleaning the dirt off his hands and face from another hard day in the mines. A time and place when my father taught me to fight just for fun and my mom didn’t have a gun.

Chapter Ten

Tristan

We’re all back in our little room. Roc and Elsey and me. Resting and recovering. Both from subchapter 26 and from Ram’s less-than-warm welcome.

Ben loaned me Anna’s diary and I’m flipping through it randomly, feeling the emotions of Year Zero through her. It was a hard time for everyone, but especially for the kids who were adopted by the survivors. Her new family didn’t care about her the way her biological family had. She was a chore, a responsibility, someone they had to feed and clothe. That’s all.

There was chaos that first year. Everyone was reliant on the government to provide their meals, their housing, their clothing. People worked hard, but they were only allowed to do the things that the government told them they could do. Maybe that level of structure was necessary back then, but things haven’t changed that much. Things need to change and if I can help people to realize that, then who am I to fight it?

“Oh my word, Roc! Is that Tawni?” Elsey exclaims, pulling my concentration away from the diary.

Roc’s blushing, his brown skin darkening under Elsey’s scrutiny. “What? Uh, no. It’s just a drawing.”

“What kind of drawing?” I say, leaning at the edge of my bed, craning my neck to see what they’re looking at. Roc tilts the paper away from me, so all I can see are his hands against the white back of the page.

“It’s nothing.” The way he says it, I know it’s not nothing.

“It’s beautiful, Roc,” Elsey disagrees, nodding encouragingly. Huh? Roc drew something beautiful. I’ve never seen him draw anything at all. I’ve got to see this.

Hopping off my bed, I grab for the drawing, but Roc pulls away, bumping Elsey, who’s sitting next to him on his bed. “Go, Elsey, go!” he says, handing off the paper to her like a baton, urging her forward.

She leaps from the bed. Traitor. I charge after her, corner her on the other side of her own bed. I fake like I’m going to go around one side and she squeals, moving to the other side. I go the other way and she spins and heads back the way she came. By the time I reach the other side, she’s moved to where I was originally and is giggling uncontrollably.

I grin at her. “Okay, okay, let’s make a deal,” I say.

“No deals!” Roc cries from the bed, where he’s watching from his hands and knees.

“No deals!” Elsey echoes. Roc’s got her wrapped around his little finger. I never knew he was so good with kids. Then again, I never knew he could draw either. Although until I get my hands on that drawing I won’t be able to confirm his drawing ability.

I leap across the bed.

As I soar through the air I see El’s eyes widen—she’s frozen, too surprised to run. I grab her around the waist with one arm and lift her in the air, using the other arm to tickle her. Her laugh is melodious and carefree and beautiful. As I planned, the tickling not only makes her laugh, but forces her hands open as she clutches her stomach, where I’m tickling her. The drawing flutters to the floor and I plop her onto the bed and grab it. “Aha!” I cry, making her laugh even more. “Teaches you to join his side,” I say.

Roc’s leaning back on his bed, his expression unreadable. It’s almost like he wants me to see his drawing, but is embarrassed about it at the same time. Using the palm of my hand, I smooth the paper, which has become marginally wrinkled, curling up around the edges. When I look at it, my eyes widen like sauce plates, and I glance at Roc, who scrunches up his nose slightly.

It’s the face of an angel, sketched with charcoal. Long, white hair. Full, pretty lips and a small graceful chin line. High cheekbones. She’s smiling the most natural smile, like it comes easily to her. The drawing is magnificent, an artist’s painting, not just a quick sketch by an amateur. The likeness is so well done that I can tell without a doubt that it’s Tawni.

The only strange thing: the face has no eyes. Not holes or dots or ovals or anything. Her eyebrows are there, thin and white, but it’s just blank paper beneath them.

I look at Roc, then back at the drawing, then to Roc once more. “You drew this?” I say, already knowing the answer to my question.

Roc nods lightly, his lips curling up at one end. “I’ve always liked drawing,” he says, by way of explanation.

“You never told me.”

“You never asked.”

“It’s magnificent,” I say, using the same word I thought in my head when I first saw it.

“Thanks…” Roc says slowly, as if waiting for the but.

“But…” I say, pausing.

Roc laughs. “Here it comes.”

“But it’s Tawni…and she has no eyes.”

Roc just shrugs. Seems I’m going to have to push a bit more if I want to get anything out of him.

“Why’d you draw Tawni?”

The blush is back, so I don’t need him to actually answer me.

“You’ve got a crush on her?” I say, my eyes lighting up.

“No—nothing like that!” Roc protests. “I just thought she’d make a good subject.”

“Yeah, right.” Payback time. Ever since I opened up to Roc about my desire to get to know Adele, he’s given me a hard time about how I have a crush on her. My turn. “What’s next, a drawing with you and her holding hands, sitting on the edge of a cave, making out?”

“Roc and Tawni, in the cave next to meee! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Elsey sings helpfully, cracking me up and making Roc tuck his head into his hands.

“I knew I shouldn’t have drawn her,” Roc mumbles. “I’ll never live it down.”

“No, no, it’s cool, Roc. Really cool, actually. Both that you are an amazing artist, and that you have a thing for Tawni.” I say it earnestly, because I really mean it. I certainly enjoy giving him a hard time occasionally, but more than anything I want him to find happiness in our unhappy world. “Question, though: Why doesn’t she have any eyes?”

“Because she doesn’t see me,” Roc says evenly.

Right away I feel bad that I made fun of him. Darn him for doing that. The beauty of his sketch prevents me from even enjoying the satisfaction of paying him back for all his jokes.

“I’ll bet she noticed you,” Elsey says. “It was just a hard time for everyone.”