LITMIR.BIZ

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think you’re being funny, but you’re not. This isn’t some sideshow to entertain you. This is my life. Benjy has been there for me in a way no one else ever has. He’s my family, and you don’t just push family aside for some itch you want to scratch. That’s not how real love works. Real love is support, even when you’re fighting. Real love is honesty, even when the truth hurts like hell. Real love is being there through every miserable minute and every infinite moment. Real love is—it’s sitting in that cage together with a gun pointed at your head, knowing all you have to do to save your life is kill him, and instead you hold each other because living without him isn’t living at all.” I sucked in a deep breath and blinked hard, an unnamed part of me twisting sharply. “Knox would have killed me if it meant winning the war. I’m nothing more than a pawn to him. But Benjy would have died for me.”

      Rivers was quiet for several seconds, until at last he slipped an arm around my shoulders. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe the things I see when you aren’t looking are just my imagination. But for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a pawn to him. You’re even more than the most important piece on the board. To Knox, there is no game without you.”

      “Then he’s going to be bitterly disappointed when it ends.” Pain radiated down my side, and I winced. “I’m with Benjy. I love Benjy. Nothing will ever change that.”

      “I don’t doubt it,” said Rivers, and at least he had the decency to sound slightly abashed. “Just—don’t forget that there’s more than one kind of love.”

      I scowled, shrugging out of his embrace despite the ache it caused. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

      “Whatever you need it to,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Come on—this fork will take us as close to Mercer Manor as we’re going to get.”

      I took a deep breath, willing the snarling, angry monster in the pit of my stomach to retreat. Rivers wasn’t in charge of my life. Just because he had an opinion didn’t give him any power over me. Who I chose to love was entirely up to me, and I’d made my decision long ago.

      As we wound through the tunnel, I tried to map it in my head. It wasn’t unlike the way I’d memorized the sewer tunnels back in the Heights, where I’d grown up, and if I was right, the tunnel would let out in—

      “Clothing storage,” said Rivers as he pushed open a piece of the wall. It, too, swung on hinges, but unlike the entrance we’d used, this closet was filled with racks and racks of boots. Most were worn and falling to pieces, and even those in the best condition were too far gone for anyone still in society to wear. Even IIs.

      It was yet another reminder that despite being liberated by the Blackcoats, the prisoners were still exactly where they’d been before. But now we may have found a way to fix it.

      “I want to map the entire tunnel system,” I blurted. “And I want you to help me.”

      “I’d be happy to,” said Rivers grandly, as if he’d expected this all along. But unlike when Knox blatantly used me to further his own goals, I didn’t really mind. At least Rivers had had the forethought to let me think it was my idea.

      We stepped out into a dingy hallway inside what must have been the garments building, where the clothing for the prisoners was made and stored. It was one of the nicer buildings in Section X, no doubt thanks to its proximity to Mercer Manor. To my surprise, we passed a few former prisoners still working, and in the distance, I heard the faint whirring of sewing machines.

      “Don’t they know they don’t have to do this anymore?” I said as we reached the exit.

      “We can’t all sit around and think all day. This needs to be a functioning community,” said Rivers. “Don’t worry—they’re here because they want to be, not because anyone is pointing a gun at their heads.”

      “They’re here to avoid having someone point a gun at their heads,” I pointed out. “There’s no safe place for them outside Elsewhere.”

      “That’ll change,” said Rivers with such offhanded assuredness that, had he been able to bottle it, I would have given anything I owned for just a taste. “We’ll start mapping out the tunnels tomorrow, once you’ve had a chance to rest.”

      “We’ll start on it after dinner,” I corrected. “Once I’ve had time to take some painkillers.”

      We argued all the way back to Mercer Manor, where Rivers reluctantly agreed to meet me that evening—but only to draw a guide to the tunnels he was already familiar with. It wasn’t the exploration I’d had in mind, but at least we were doing something.

      I refused to let the doctor examine me, instead choosing to lie down upstairs in the bedroom Benjy and I now shared. We’d spent three days trapped together in that room while the Battle of Elsewhere raged outside, but I didn’t see it as a prison. Not anymore. Instead, it was a refuge from whatever storm Knox and the Blackcoats were brewing downstairs, the one place I could be me without having to worry about being silenced or ignored. Or mistaken for someone I wasn’t—though now that the entire country knew who I was, with any luck, those instances would become few and far between.

      I turned on the radio and listened to the soft music, trying to lose myself in it and forget the rest of the world for a little while. But as soon as I closed my eyes, someone knocked softly on the door.

      “This better be good,” I called, turning my face from the pillow enough to watch the door. Benjy slipped inside and offered me a smile.

      “Heard what happened,” he said. “Rivers said you wouldn’t see a doctor.”

      “I’m fine,” I muttered. “Breathing hurts, that’s all.”

      “Oh, that’s all?” He rubbed his hands together, warming them up. “If you won’t let them take a look at you, then at least let me check to see if anything’s broken. You could puncture a lung and die, and then where would we be?”

      “You’d be fine,” I said. “Knox would be adrift. He just wouldn’t realize it for a while.”

      He smiled, but it resembled a grimace far too closely for it to be genuine. “I’m sure Knox will be pleased to know you’re so concerned about him, but I wouldn’t be fine without you, either. Let me take a look.”

      I immediately regretted bringing Knox up at all, but there was nothing I could do about it now. Reluctantly I tugged up my shirt and let him take a look at the angry purple bruise already forming on my side. Benjy gently began to examine my ribs.

      “You shouldn’t go down there alone anymore,” he said. I frowned.

      “Why are we doing any of this if we’re too scared to talk to them? They have a point, you know. We’re up here, getting the best food and the best medical care—”

      “We eat the same things they eat,” he said. “And they have constant access to doctors and nurses.”

      “We still live in this house while they live in bunks,” I said. “That kind of difference might not seem like much, but to them, we might as well be poking them in the eye with our superiority.”

      “We need space to meet and plan.”

      “We could use the dining hall for space,” I countered. “This manor is where the Mercers lived for years. Staying here, while nothing’s changed for the rest of them—it isn’t doing us any good.”

      “What would you prefer we do? Let everyone crowd in here?” said Benjy. His fingers pressed against a particularly tender spot, and I hissed. “No matter what kind of equality we want, there will always be leaders, and those leaders will always have some kind of marginal privilege.”

      “Then what’s the difference between us and the Harts?” I said. “What makes us any better?”

      “We won’t abuse our privileges. We won’t take and take and take and give nothing in return.” He pulled my shirt back down and

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