Blind the Eyes

Chapter 3: Freedom

Chapter 3: FreedomI MOVE OUT of the doorway.

“Finally,” Cadence says. Then, as I take another step: “Uh, Cole? This way. Cole!”

She’s annoyed. It makes sense. It’s repulsive, the way those workers are all in each other’s space. And that strange man, he’s practically malformed: shoulders thrown back, his smooth, angled jawline visible where his mask has shifted to one side. I can even make out the corner of his mouth, upturned. He’s smiling?

I feel sick. Or something.

He gestures and the others melt away, apparently taking their cue to leave. He moves closer. Somehow the loose folds of the same shapeless uniform we all wear seem to accentuate his form instead of obscuring it.

“It’s been ages, flame.” His voice is warm, liquid in a way that tugs my shoulders up around my ears and makes my teeth squeak.

Why does he act like he knows me? Whatever this is, it’s very, very wrong. I need to get out of here.

I don’t move.

“You don’t remember, do you? It’s okay, just come with me.” He moves closer. “You’re in danger here.”

What comes out of my mouth bears only a passing resemblance to language. I try again. “Wh—who are you?”

He laughs. “Ravel. I’m the one you’ve been waiting for.”

His hand on my arm. A shock like static electricity prickling across my scalp. A memory: the dead man’s face, blue-grey pallor over a bony jaw. That night on Floor 6.

I jerk away. The back of my head thunks against the wall.

“Easy—you need to trust me. I’m here to help you.” He slips an arm behind my back and sweeps me toward a door across from the elevator. I’ve never noticed it before. Never had a reason to.

“I don’t like this,” Cadence says. “Cole? Do something.”

“I’m here to rescue you,” Ravel says over her protest. “I know what you want, flame. I know what you need. You don’t have to be alone anymore. You don’t have to hide among these drones. I can give you back your life.”

He sounds so confident. But he’s wrong. I don’t want anything. The Mara took that part of me. The trouble is, they also took the part that knew how to talk back.

He leans in. The warmth of his breath on my ear makes it hard to focus.

“You’re out here on an assignment, right? That was me. I set it up to help you escape. You can’t trust Refuge. They’re lying to you, lying to everyone. They can’t protect you like I can. They just want to use you. You don’t remember—you don’t know how much they’ve taken from you already. Come with me. It’ll hurt less if you come now. I don’t want to see you suffer.”

Beyond the door, a stairwell stretches away into the shadows. I turn to look full into his face—far, far too close now. He smiles, all shining eyes and even, too-white teeth.

“Who are you?”

He sighs, and the pressure at my back lessens. “It would be better if you’d just trust me. This is all for you, after all.” His teasing tone reminds me a little of Cadence’s now. “Haven’t you ever dreamed of escaping this place?”

I suck in a breath and twist to look up and down the hallway. How dare he make such accusations?

“Hey.” He catches my chin. His gloves are missing. The warmth of his hand scorches right through my mask. His voice drops, his gaze dazzling in its intensity. “You can trust me. You’re meant for more than this. Didn’t you ever wonder why you were spared?”

I forget how to breathe.

“Cole, move,” Cadence says. “This guy’s crazy. Let’s get out of here.”

Where does she want to go again? What . . . what was I doing? I can’t think. I need him to stop talking so I can think, but he just keeps going.

“I made a place to help people like you, flame, a place where you can be what you were always meant to be.” He brushes his thumb against my cheek, rumpling my mask. “There’s another world at the end of these steps. Freedom has everything you could ever want and more. You just have to reach out and take it.”

The concern in his expression seems to hook inside me and yank. I’m on fire. Of course, if it’ll make him happy. Of course. Whatever it was that he wanted. Whatever he said—

Wait, what did he just say?

“People like me.” I lean away. People like you. Other people. Probationary workers? Failures?

“But you’re special.” He hurries on. “You always have been. You’re meant for more, so much more than this. Don’t you feel it? Haven’t you always known you were different?”

Different .

“This is wrong.” It’s not a complaint, nor a challenge. It’s not even a choice. Just a statement of fact. I take another step back.

I’m nobody special. I’m not tempted by his words—just confused. He sounded so authoritative; I almost obeyed out of habit. But the Mara took the part of me that could be tempted. This has to be a lie, some kind of trick or scheme.

Finally, I get a proper glance at the ID printed on his uniform: 00-Ravel-. There’s no division code, no sequence number. He’s fake, just playing a part. It’s all part of my probationary trial. Obedience in the face of temptation. And what could be more tempting than someone like him telling me I’m meant for something more than this?

It’s so obvious, now I’ve caught my breath and can think again. It’s a final call to dream instead of obey. I need to submit to the Mara.

“You shouldn’t be here.” My voice comes out cold and even. I’m pleased with how steady it sounds. “You’re in violation of regulation.”

Dark brows knit together over those molten eyes; so expressive, so pleading. It’s wrong to notice; I know it is. I need to end this, now.

“I call upon the Mara to eat my dreams.”

“Don’t you want to be with me? Why don’t you tell me what you want?” He leans in, whispers, “Tell me your secret desires. I’ll give it all to you.”

Images flicker through my mind in shades of blue and grey as I go cold, colder than their stiff skin. No. The Mara ate my dreams. They took all that away. But if they hadn’t . . . What would he say if I told him just what I used to fantasize about? If he knew just how different—how ‘special’—I used to be? I shake my head.

“I call upon the Mara to eat my dreams.” The tingling starts to recede. The memories fade.

“What’s wrong? Please—”

“It’s a trick,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. “I won’t fail. I call upon the Mara to eat my dreams.”

For an instant after the final repetition, his face goes blank in a way that clears my head instead of fogging it. But then he relaxes again into an expression of warm invitation. The light returns to his eyes. I’m left off balance, not sure of just what I saw.

“Cole, I’ll take care of you. I’ll make it all right. Look, just follow me down to Freedom. Just down to the end of these steps, to the life you were meant to live. You know you want this. You won’t regret it, I promise. Trust me.”

“I won’t fail,” I say, louder. He looks confused. “I know my duty. I won’t be tricked. I will pass probation. You tell Kistrfyv that.”

I take another step back and feel behind me for the elevator call button. I flatten myself against the cold steel.

“You only hurt yourself by denying me,” Ravel says, one hand outstretched in invitation. “You’ll come to me in the end.”

There’s a whoosh to my right. A door swings open. A worker emerges, head modestly bowed.

“You’ll come to me.”

It’s a breath on the air, followed by a click. When I look back, the stairwell door is closed and Ravel is gone.