As though the claustrophobic, anonymous corridor we’re in didn’t give that away.

“You should smile more,” I whisper back. “Or you’ll lose your reputation.”

“My reputation?”

“As a charmer.”

This does make him smile, and the icy anger in my chest thaws a little at the sight. “I can be anything I want here, Ad. Perhaps I’ll be serious.”

“It doesn’t suit you,” I warn him.

Jost’s arm circles around my shoulder, interrupting Erik’s and my repartee and indicating he’s ready to go.

Or rather, he’s ready to take me away. From Erik.

Erik stiffens a bit, stepping back from me. “Promise me you’ll stay with him.”

“I’ll stay close,” Jost tells Erik. This is the most they’ve communicated since their argument on the day we arrived here.

“We’ll stay close,” I add.

“No, explore.” Erik waves us off. “There’s not much time before curfew.”

“So we shouldn’t get separated,” I say.

“I can find my way back to the hotel if it takes too long. You two have … fun.”

That’s the last thing we’ll be having.

“Do you want to find something to eat?” Jost asks as we circle back in the direction we came from, leaving Erik to his business.

I raise an eyebrow, as though challenging him to make that happen. If he can find a place with food—the kind that might be safe to actually eat—around here, I’ll be impressed.

“Fair enough,” he says.

“Let’s walk,” I offer. “Talk. See what’s around.”

Jost agrees, but the conversation never gets going. Instead he is silent and seems lost in another place and time. He’s been this way since I told him about his daughter, Sebrina. I’d discovered she hadn’t been killed along with the rest of Jost’s family. She is alive, her information, which reveals exactly where she is in Arras, tucked safely in storage at the Western Coventry. Now we have to figure out a way to get to her, but it isn’t possible as long as we’re stuck on Earth.

In a way I understand what he’s going through. My own sister, Amie, is still in Arras, and she is in more danger than ever before. Jost and I both feel the pressing desperation of each moment that has passed since we left our loved ones to the devices of the Guild, especially now that we’ve chosen treason instead of continuing to be complicit in the Guild’s great deception. I couldn’t resign myself to accepting the reality they create on their looms, not when I knew how they misused their power, and not after learning of the existence of Earth. But now that we’re actually on Earth, it’s becoming increasingly obvious that I can’t count on either Jost or Erik to help me figure out what to do next.

I brush back the tangle of dark curls that has fallen over Jost’s cheek, but he doesn’t seem to notice, except to take my hand in his. The movement is automatic, but I hold his hand anyway.

We hang a left, leaving the narrow alley and heading into a row of shops. The street lamps cast shadows against the stone, and I move closer to Jost. Even after a week here, I haven’t gotten used to the perpetual darkness covering the metro. The sun that never rises. The strange twists of light that flicker and spark across the sky—the Interface. I can see it now, lingering overhead. The strands might twist and sparkle, implying movement, but the Interface is always there—a permanent buffer between Earth and Arras. It blocks the sun and separates the worlds. It’s the boundary between the world we’ve left behind and the one we’ve discovered.

Some of the stores in the grey market are boarded up, others crumble toward the sidewalk, but lights burn faintly in a few. I have no interest in going inside any of them. I’m eager to explore the shops in the heart of the Icebox, not these back-alley establishments on the metro’s outskirts. I want to visit the stores with real customers. I want to know more about Earth, but right now we have so little money we stay away. I’m not sure what we’re waiting for though, since we’re not getting any answers in the grey market.

These streets are deserted. A few hulking, old-fashioned motos chug along the streets near the main marketplace, but not here. The pedestrians we spot keep their heads low, ducking into shops and not making eye contact with us when we pass by them. Despite the constant darkness, my body tells me evening is near. Actually the airy rumble of my stomach does. Business transactions begin in huddles on street corners, and more and more customers trickle into the grey market to conduct their affairs after hours despite the curfew imposed throughout the Icebox. They don’t seem concerned about the rumors of snatchers roaming the streets after the lamps go out. In the nicer sections of the Icebox, food stalls are packed up and people rush their children indoors promptly at 7:00. Not here though.

The solar lamps are already growing dim. In less than an hour, they’ll be extinguished completely. On a corner, a young man inspects one of the lamps. His bag lies open, revealing a variety of wrenches and screwdrivers, but his clothing doesn’t suggest he’s a laborer. His pants are well cut, and his long coat is leather, which seems like a luxury given the absence of animals I’ve noted in the Icebox. He’s not a simple worker. He must be a Sunrunner.

“Will Erik be able to find us?” I ask Jost. He drops my hand at the mention of his brother’s name but stays close to me.