She'd been dreading this conversation.
Era’s feet dragged as she approached the structure she, her father, and Mason had all designed together, her walking stick poking holes in the barely trodden snow. The mound of scrap had a ramshackle, unplanned appearance for those who didn't know better. But from this distance, it was obvious. The library was almost perfectly domed, with an efficient little chimney puffing away through the oculus.
She discovered Mason behind that cheerfully burning fireplace, his feet propped on a plastic crate with a shopping bag mat over it and a homespun shawl draped over his shoulders.
She ducked her head as she approached, trying to catch the title of the book he read.
“Don't think I've heard of that one.”
Mason yelped at the sound of her voice, losing the shawl off one shoulder and nearly dropping the book. A half-smile broke through Era's grim mood. Mason was the only person she knew who could literally shut out all the problems of the world by reading. He'd barely notice if the library was on fire.
Trying to recover his dignity, Mason sat up straighter in his chair, removing his feet from the footrest as he ran a nervous palm over his wide braids. “I told you to stop doing that.”
“Couldn't help myself.” Era sat on the cushioned plastic crate, her walking stick resting between her knees and Mason's shins. There was a thoughtless intimacy to the act, and no wonder. He was practically her stepfather. That didn't change—not even for a moment—after her father died.
“Always with the mischief,” Mason huffed, shaking his head. “One day, you're going to bite off more than you can chew with these pranks of yours.”
“About that,” she began, her mouth widening into a nervous grin.
Every muscle in Mason's face tightened. “What did you do?”
She brushed a few stray hairs back from her face, only for them to cling to her wool-mix gloves. The moment she freed them, they landed back in her face.
“Era,” Mason warned.
“Remember the business about the dragon on the ridge? The one the supply team swore they saw?”
Mason's eyes narrowed.
“Well, it was a lantern, and I put it there. One of the team members knows it was me. Also Chef Beatriz, but only because he told her.”
Mason drew back with a hiss. At last, he set down his book.
In that moment, Era knew she was in for it.
“You can't keep violating rules like this, Era! Where are you going to go if the leadership kicks you out before winter's end? Where are we going to go?”
She muttered, “It's not like this is the only settlement left in Cleveland.”
“Because all the others will be thrilled to share their dwindling supplies with more folks. You know everything is calculated down to the mouthful this time of year.”
“Aw, come on, Mason!” Era nudged his boot with her own. “You're just spinning out now.”
“I'm trying to look out for you.” Kneading his forehead with his fingertips, Mason leaned forward over his knees, careful of the worn book in his lap. “Who was it, anyway? Maybe we can convince them not to say anything.”
She winced. “Devlin Song.”
“Devlin? Who the—the new guy? The one with the scary-looking dad?”
“Yup. The one who always looks like everything's a disappointment. That Devlin.”
He groaned, “Oh, Era.”
“Don't 'oh, Era' me! He's not going to talk. I mean, more than he already has.” She hesitated. “At least, I don't think he will.”
Rather than reassure him, her words only served to make Mason more suspicious. “What makes you so sure?”
“I took him down to storage to help me sort scrap.” She scratched at her still-thawing nose. “He doesn't have permission to leave the safe zone outside of supply runs. If I get in trouble for going out of bounds during restricted hours, so will he. He won't tell.”
“He's new, Era. They'll just warn him to take it more seriously. They've already warned you several times.”
Era snorted. “They haven't caught me that much. The leadership here isn't that sharp.”
“You're hopeless, you know that?”
Mason sat back. She patted his hand affectionately.
“So what's the book?”
His worried expression softened a touch as he answered, “Romeo and Juliet. It came in the supply run. Can you believe it? Another Shakespeare play still kicking around this sorry old world, and not in terrible shape, either. Have you heard of this one?”
She shook her head.
“That just worries me more.” Mason lifted the book from his lap, turning as if he would see something new in its faded cover, creased so many times it was like a roadmap of all the people who had read it. “I'll talk to Chef. And maybe to this Devlin kid.”
“Thanks, Mason, you're the best.” Era jumped to her feet so quickly, she was instantly dizzy. But that didn't stop her. She held onto her walking stick a little tighter and strode from the library before Mason could change his mind.