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  Omar tapped “voice” again, and when he said, “Ready,” it came out amplified and deep. His heart was racing, but it was pure adrenaline. When Renzor and Otley saw this broadcast, they would be furious.

  “Okay, Owl,” Zane said. “You’re live in three, two, one.” He pointed at Omar and nodded.

  Omar took a deep breath and read from the wall screen. “This is not an error. The Messenger Owl has truth to deliver to the people of the Safe Lands. Truth brings freedom. Listen well. Liberations are not filmed live. They are prerecorded and edited so you hear only what the Guild wants you to hear. This ColorCast is a tool for the Safe Lands Guild to tell lies. The Owl speaks the truth. There are not nine lives, but one. Make yours count.”

  “Done.” Zane jumped up, fists raised in the air. “That was perfect!”

  Omar relaxed and pulled off his mask, unable to stop smiling. The Owl was real now — to the people of the Safe Lands, at least. A real vigilante. A messenger of truth.

  “We’ll do that every day at different times so they won’t know when to expect it,” Zane said. “Messenger Owl. Stimming brilliant.”

  Omar felt free and worthy, like he was making a contribution for the first time in his life, like he mattered. Only one thing nagged him. “If this mysterious messenger person has been sending notes to people beside me, the enforcers might go after him, thinking he’s the Owl.”

  “Then we’d better find out who he is and warn him,” Zane said. “Rewl’s in charge of sending Bender’s messages. He’s probably already looking into this mysterious messenger’s business.”

  “But we’re not telling Rewl about the Owl.”

  “No way. Rewl and Bender can’t know. I can’t trust them anymore.”

  “Agreed.” Omar still wasn’t sure what to say about Levi if he ran into Rewl or Bender. He was supposed to say that Levi made other arrangements, but that just seemed like fighting words. At least now Omar had his own way of fighting. He could do so much as the Owl that Omar Strong could never do. “That was fun — the broadcast. But is it enough?”

  “It’s a good start. People are going to see it on their Wyndos and wonder what just happened. Plus you’re going to do a graffiti patrol each day to keep the marks fresh, and one sighting, right?”

  Zane wanted Omar to be seen in person somewhere every day. “I’m doing Midlands West today,” Omar said.

  “Good. But it will get old fast. Safe Landers are all about the next big thing. We have to keep this, you know, new and different. So let’s talk about where we’re taking this thing. Creating doubt and unrest in the people is great, but I know what it’s like to live here. People might doubt the Guild, but besides the rebel groups, no one does anything about it. The Owl speaks to everyone, and that will unify doubts. But we need to build on it each week. Toward something huge.”

  “An assassination? Renzor or Otley?” Omar would love to see either go down.

  “That would certainly get people’s attention,” Zane said. “You going to do it? Because as much as I hate them both, I could never go out and kill someone — unless they were shooting at me first. I’m just being honest here.”

  Omar wanted to say that he could, but it would be a lie. His one act of aggression against Levi still haunted him. And Levi hadn’t bothered to have anyone fix his nose, so his face constantly reminded Omar of how he’d betrayed everyone.

  “Lonn was always saying the rebels need to unite,” Zane said. “He used to say the different groups were like flocks of birds. We were all pecking, but if we pecked at the same time, we might actually make a difference.”

  Made sense. “That kind of talk is great for rallying people, but someone needs to be in charge for that to work, and Bender can’t be the guy in charge.” Even if Bender believed that as enforcer general he could do some good, Otley would betray him. Bender was a fool to think he could trust that animal. “We need to use our heads. We need a lynchpin.”

  “What’s that?” Zane asked.

  “It’s a fastener that keeps a wheel from falling off the axle — on a vehicle. The point is, a lynchpin is tiny compared to a vehicle. But without it, the vehicle is useless. We need to find something small that, when taken out, the lack of it will cause the Safe Lands to fall.”

  “Like taking a can from the bottom of a stack of cans?”

  “Exactly.” The mere idea of finding the right thing thrilled Omar. “So what can’t people live without?”

  “Same as everywhere. Water. Food.”

  “And where does all that come from?”

  “Water from the dam. Food … from the Lowlands, I guess.”

  The Lowlands. Omar had never been there. “Sounds like we’ve got some investigating to do. If we can figure out how to stop the water or the food, people will get desperate — the government included.”

  “It’s worth a try,” Zane said, spinning on his chair to face his GlassTop. “I’ll ask around.”

  That night Omar went out and painted more graffiti. When he returned to the nest, Zane was limping from green screen to GlassTop.

  “We’ve got a problem,” Zane said. “I tapped Rewl and asked about this mystery messenger. It’s Shaylinn.”

  Hearing her name made Omar tremble. “That’s mad. How can it be Shaylinn?”

  “She delivered about twenty messages this week. Started at the Larkspur and worked her way across downtown. Spends a lot of time at Kendall Collin’s apartment. Rewl said he picked her up a few days ago and tried to scare her into stopping, but she’s still at it.”

  “He ‘picked her up’?” What did that mean? “How did he scare her?”

  “Didn’t say. But he did say she makes her deliveries at night.”

  Omar couldn’t believe it. Shay wandering the Safe Lands in the middle of the night? How could Jordan not know? “I shouldn’t have used her name. ‘Messenger,’ I mean. I put her in danger.” Rewl must think that Shay was the Owl.

  “Nah. She did that to herself before you came along. Why don’t you drop by the Belleview tomorrow night? Rewl said she gets there about one a.m., though he can’t figure out where she’s coming from. Wants to know where Levi’s got everybody stashed. Rewl says she goes into theater nine when she’s done, so she must be coming into the city through the storm drains. You should warn her that Rewl is trying to track her. I’d hate for her to run into him underground.”

  “If she didn’t listen to Rewl, why would she listen to me?”

  “You’re the guy from home. The daddy of her babies. And, if she still won’t listen, you could always tell Jordan.”

  “Yeah, she’d love that,” Omar said. “But you’re right. That would end it.”

  The next night, Omar waited in an alley across the street from the Belleview. Sure enough, at 1:06 a.m. Shay came walking down the street. Alone. She’d changed so much since they’d come here. She was no longer the chubby shadow of his cousin Penelope. She might only be fourteen, but she didn’t look it. That hair alone would turn any man’s head. And if she were out walking alone every night, any creep could grab her. Rewl already had.

  He didn’t like the idea of Rewl watching her, much less “picking her up” and trying to scare her. She should at least put her hair up under a hat or something.

  He still couldn’t believe he was going to be a father. What was he going to say to her about that? Did he have to say anything? Couldn’t he wait until the kids got here?

  Why was he such a coward?

  The moment she entered the building, Omar crossed the street. Apartments in the Midlands weren’t like those in the Highlands. No doormen. Some had SimLocks on the entry door, but most were broken and never got repaired. He shuddered to think what things might be like in the Lowlands.

  Omar slipped inside the Belleview in time to see Shay’s boots turn on the landing halfway up the first flight of stairs. He crept behind her, not eager to see Kendall again after what Red had told her at the train station. Every time he turned around he seemed to face a new humil
iation.

  This too shall pass.

  He smiled at the words from Shay’s note. Her words had done him good, yet here he came to put an end to her good deeds. It didn’t seem right.

  He peeked around the landing and saw Shay standing outside Kendall’s door. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to do something good in this place. In fact, he admired her for trying.

  When the door swung open, Omar ran for it, not bothering to be quiet. Halfway through the doorway, Shay turned, eyes wide. Kendall stood behind her, staring at him too.

  “Omar?” Shay’s eyebrows sank low over her eyes. They were sculpted now where they used to be thick.

  “Let’s get inside, shall we?” He put his hand on her waist and walked into Kendall’s apartment, pulling Shay along. She felt odd in his arms. Thicker where Red had been all bones. Healthy. Nice.

  “What are you doing here?” Shay asked, looking from him to Kendall and back. “Do you come here a lot?”

  Oh. She thought something was going on between him and Kendall. Maybe that was good. Then if something did happen …

  Curse his foul mind. Why couldn’t he stay focused? He was here to help Shay, not himself.

  A low squawk made him jump. He’d forgotten that Kendall had a bird. He walked straight for the window where a black, art deco wire cage with a scalloped top sat on a narrow table. The bird was small and bright like the colors of his paints. He had a tantalizing turquoise belly, a custard-cream head, a purple moon beak, and black-and-white-striped wings. “Hello, angel,” Omar said in a soft voice. “Aren’t you beautiful?”

  “He’s a boy,” Kendall said. “His name is Basil.”

  “You’ve never been here before?” Shaylinn asked, her words tinged with hope.

  Omar kept his eyes on the bird. “No.” He wanted to look at her, but he was thankful this fluttery little distraction gave him an excuse to gather his courage first. “He’s a parrot?”

  “A parakeet, actually,” Kendall said. “I was told he was a budgie, but … I don’t really know what that means.”

  “Budgie. Budgie. Basil’s a budgie,” the bird said, his voice soft and raspy.

  A thrill ran through Omar. “He talks!”

  “What time is it? Give me a kiss. Tch tch tch.” The bird’s beak barely moved, but he jerked his head from side to side in quick movements.

  Omar laughed, which only egged Basil on.

  “Budgie. Basil’s a budgie. Give us a kiss. Tch tch tch. Juice off, Lawten. Juice off! You’re a shell! Tch tch tch.”

  That got Omar’s attention. He straightened and focused his wide-eyed surprise on Kendall. “Lawten? As in Task Director General Lawten Renzor?”

  Kendall shrugged like it didn’t matter that the bird had insulted the ruler of the Safe Lands. “He picks up most anything he hears. It doesn’t have to be from me.”

  “Sure.” Omar grinned and tapped the cage with his fingers. The bird’s glassy eyes twitched at the sound. “Where’d you get him?”

  “He was a gift from … um, I mean, the Safe Lands Guild gave him to me to make up for taking Elyot.”

  “Who’s Elyot?” Omar asked.

  Shaylinn stepped beside Omar. “He’s her — ”

  “It’s doesn’t matter,” Kendall said, shooting Shaylinn a look that seemed to say, “Shut up.” Then she turned her bossy expression his way. “What are you doing here, Omar?”

  “Yeah.” Shay crossed her arms and mirrored Kendall’s angst.

  “I need to talk to you about the messages,” he said.

  Shay stared at him as if she might deny knowing what he was talking about. Omar stared back — at burnt umber eyes with specks of cinnamon — and Shay was the first to look away. She sighed and sat down on a kitchen chair. “Rewl talked to you, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah,” Omar lied. “He’s worried about you. And so am I. You’re supposed to stay in the cabin. Enforcers are looking for you.”

  “I look different since Red did my hair. They don’t recognize me.”

  “You don’t look that different.”

  She flinched, as if his comment had been a slap.

  “Budgie. Basil’s a budgie. You’re a shell!”

  “Hey, I’m sorry.” Omar pulled out a chair and sat beside her. Kendall walked around the table, watching them. “I didn’t mean that as an insult. Shay, look at me.”

  She did, but there was fire in her eyes. “I’m going crazy locked up in that cabin, Omar. I want to do something that helps people. My messages — ”

  “Are wonderful,” he said. “I got one.”

  She blinked long and dark lashes, and, when she opened her eyes, she was looking at her lap.

  “Shay, you have to be more careful. Rewl has been following you, trying to figure out where Levi moved everyone. Plus, Rewl … he’s different. I don’t trust him and I think — ”

  “I’ll be more careful. I’ll wear a hood or something.”

  “I’ll help her find a better disguise,” Kendall said.

  Omar wanted to tell Kendall to stay out of this, but before he got his chance, Shay said, “Please don’t tell anyone.”

  Her plea melted him. “I’m just worried about you. I don’t think it’s safe for you to — ”

  “Don’t take this away from me, Omar. I haven’t told anyone about you.”

  Me? He frowned and searched her eyes. “What about me?”

  “The Messenger Owl speaks the truth?” She pursed her lips and cocked one eyebrow.

  Omar’s lips parted in a gaping stare. How did she know? He’d only done one broadcast.

  “You’re the Owl?” Kendall sat down in the chair on Omar’s right. “But you’re so young!”

  “Uh …” Omar ran his hand through his hair. “How did you know, Shay?”

  She grinned, and her whole face shone like a ColorCast model. “You love owls. And you got the wetsuit from me, silly. It turned out gorgeous. But how did you change your voice?”

  “And how did you hack the ColorCast like that?” Kendall asked.

  “Budgie. Budgie. Basil’s a budgie,” the bird rasped.

  Omar rubbed the scar on the bridge of his nose. This was terrible! If Shaylinn knew, who else? Kendall now. And Basil the budgie.

  “Hey.” Shay pulled his hand away from his face and continued to hold it. “You always rub your scar when you’re upset. Someday you’ll have to tell me why.”

  Omar pulled his hand from hers. He’d never told anyone what his father had said that day. He certainly wasn’t going to tell a girl.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” Shay said. “I didn’t tell anyone about you being the Owl, and I won’t. I promise. Who would I tell?”

  He looked pointedly at Kendall, who grinned like this was all a big joke, so he looked back to Shay. “Naomi, Jordan, Jemma, Levi. Levi can’t know, Shay. Please.”

  “I think he’d be proud of you,” Shay said. “You’re helping.”

  “Oh, no. You don’t know Levi. He wouldn’t see it that way. He’s pretty straight-lined.”

  Shaylinn’s lips curved into a small smile. “And you’re a curvy line?”

  Yeah, right. “I’m a knot.”

  She giggled, which made everything about her shine. “I like knots.”

  “What time is it? Give me a kiss. Tch tch tch.”

  “Oh, be quiet, you!” Kendall walked to the cage and pulled a blanket over it.

  Shay kept her gaze on Kendall. “I need to write those messages, Omar. It’s important to me. I need something to do.”

  The fabric! This was his fault. “I’m sorry I haven’t brought you your fabric. I got some. I just never brought it to you.”

  The confession brought her focus back to him. “I’d like to have it.”

  He needed to say more. To make everything right, somehow, even though it was impossible. “Look, Shay … I’m sorry. About …” He reached for her, toward her stomach, then pulled his hand back. “What I’m trying to say is … I’ve really messed up my life. An
d everybody else’s. I’ve been thinking that those … kids. They’re probably the only kids I’m ever going to have. So, uh … Please, protect them. Stay in the cabin? I’ll bring you anything you want, I swear.”

  Her brows sank as if she were considering his offer.

  Please say yes, Shay.

  “Will you deliver my messages? As the Owl?”

  “Sure,” he said before thinking it through. What would Zane have to say about that? Likely something about fingerprints. “You’ll have to wear gloves when you write them. There can’t be any fingerprints.”

  “I have been wearing gloves.” She sat up straight and bounced in her chair, proud of herself. “I’m smarter than you think, Omar. But if you’ll bring me fabric and deliver my messages, I’ll stay in the cabin. For you.”

  For him. He sighed and smiled, relieved that he’d convinced her to listen. “Thank you.”

  She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “No, thank you.”

  Emotions raced through him. Not a desire for her body, but something else. Something foreign. He wanted to please her. To impress her. To bring her joy. To make her proud of him. None of it seemed at all likely to happen, but with an icy certainty that surprised him, he knew he would die trying.

  He was going to die anyway. He may as well make the time he had left worthwhile.

  CHAPTER

  14

  As Zane had suggested, Mason text tapped Ciddah on Sunday to thank her for coming with him Friday. Then he waited until Monday to ask her to dinner the following Saturday. She said yes and challenged him to come up with at least four non-argumentative conversation topics.

  So Mason spent the rest of the week brainstorming topics and planning a way to trump last week’s outing. Would she expect something similar? He specified dinner this time, not an entire day of entertainment. Might that disappoint her? And what might it take to get her to open up about her time in the boarding school?

  Mason had settled on ordering a meal to be delivered from Le Nuit, a fancy Highlands restaurant. The chef owed Zane a favor, and for whatever reason, Zane was willing to donate his favor to Mason’s cause. Once the meal was taken care of, Mason went out and rented a fancy black suit. It looked similar to the suits men had worn before the Great Pandemic, except that the jacket only reached his waist and the shirt had a ruffly red fringe than ran down the front. He also bought some ornate dishes, a vase, and a tablecloth so that he could take their meal to the roof for an evening picnic.