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Onyx was waiting for him when he came through the back door. Her arms were crossed and the exasperated look on her face suggested that Gavin was not, in fact, going to get the opportunity to close his eyes and rest for a bit as he’d hoped. He’d been running off of pure adrenaline for so long that he could scarcely remember what it felt like to sleep. He was in no mood to do battle.
“Don’t you dare leave this house alone again. You have to take me with you.” Her voice was a harsh, pleading whisper.
Gavin sighed, pulling off his cloak and tossing it deftly at one of the many hooks lining the wall. So far during Ollie’s brief stay, the sweet but simple young man had managed to drive Onyx quite close to the edge of madness. About as likely to get along as a hawk and a mouse, they both viewed Gavin as a neutral third party.
It was a tiring position to be forced into.
After accepting that Imradia was all but impenetrable, Gavin had spent the last several days excavating the entrance to the sewers that Tapestry had used in the past. When the city guard had discovered it during their retrieval of the Culeian Ambassador it had been sealed off, which made Gavin feel hopeful that the exits inside the city would not be guarded. With any luck, they’d collapsed the entrance and moved on to other things. Ollie had said that some of the tunnels were left as traps, so it stood to reason that those they had closed would be safe.
It was slow, back-breaking work. Alone in the dark, Gavin had almost managed to pierce through to the other side of the debris, one shovelful at a time. He had no way of knowing if it was a feasible way in, but at this point it was the only hope they had. He was tired, and sore, and not disposed to entertain Onyx’s incessant need to complain about Ollie. “We can’t do this again, Onyx. They’re keeping tabs on the village. What if they do a patrol and find us both missing? You need to stay here and let me search. You’ll have to cover for me if they show up while I’m gone, I can’t trust Ollie with that job.”
“Then take him with you!” She jabbed a finger toward the front garden.
“I can’t ,” Gavin reminded her, his patience wearing thinner by the second. “He just escaped from Imradia. Sneaking around is hard enough without an untrained, and recognizable, tag-along. I’m sorry, Onyx, but we’ve been over this. He needs to stay here, where you can keep him hidden. He shouldn’t even be out in the garden alone. He wouldn’t even notice a patrol coming until they were hauling him away.”
She was tapping her foot now in an irritated manner, her hands clenched against her mouth as she bit her knuckle, perhaps in an effort to stop herself from speaking.
It didn’t work.
“There’s got to be somewhere else we can take him,” she whispered at last, desperation evident in her words. “Anywhere in the village is fine with me. He’ll be close by if we need information, but he won’t be...here.”
She glanced back over her shoulder with fearful eyes, as if expecting that Ollie might appear behind her at any moment.
Gavin had been in and out of Solara as often as he dared. He knew that Nero’s spies could be in the village, but he was willing to take the risk that they weren’t. The people of Solara had all suffered at the hands of the Elder Council. Most of them, Gavin would trust implicitly. But he did not want to put the burden of keeping Ollie hidden on any of them. Harboring an Imradian fugitive was a dangerous proposition, especially now.
Onyx’s initial sympathy towards Ollie’s weakened state had soured as the young man recovered from his ordeal. Onyx’s private nature clashed with Ollie’s inquisitive one. He was young, an idealist, and constantly attempting to be helpful. Gavin didn’t mind him, but he did mind being stuck in the middle. If the two of them did not work out their issues soon, Gavin would have to seriously consider sleeping in the dirty entrance of the tunnel. At least he could have some peace that way.
“Yesterday he was picking my tomatoes.” Onyx was still railing in her angry whisper-yell. She moved to the table, slamming down a cup of tea, presumably for him, so hard that the liquid sloshed over the sides. “Just ripping them off the vine, cheerful as you please!”
Gavin needed to quell the growing storm before things could get out too out of hand. “I’m sure he’s just trying to help.”
“He was pulling them off the vines, Gavin!” she said, mimicking Ollie’s lack of tomato picking skills with exaggerated gestures in case Gavin had misunderstood the severity of the issue. “Everyone knows you twist a tomato off the vine. Or cut it. You don’t just yank like some, some...savage!”
Gavin couldn’t help it. He chuckled. This might have earned him a stern talking to, if not for the sudden sound of the front door opening behind them.
“He’s coming!” Onyx yelped fearfully, disappearing into the kitchen in a blur.
Gavin let out a sigh, and Ollie appeared beside him a moment later. “Oh, Gavin! I didn’t hear you come in!” The young man walked over to the table and plopped down a large basket of produce. “I was just helping out in the garden. There’s something so relaxing about it, you know? I mean, the world is in chaos and we’re heading for war, but the vegetables, they don’t care about any of that, do they? They still need watering, and weeding, and picking!”
“I’m sure Onyx appreciates the effort,” Gavin said loudly, “But you know, she is rather particular about her garden. Perhaps it would be best if you check in with her first before you—”
“Oh, right, that reminds me!” Ollie interjected, his eyes wide. “There were these weird caterpillars, huge. They have this crazy horn and they’re green and fat, do you know the ones? Anyway, I brushed up against one, and it gave me such a start I trampled a couple of the pretty flowers.” His cheeks flushed as he spoke, and he looked abashed.
Onyx groaned as she burst out of the kitchen, pushing past Gavin and the rather startled looking Ollie. “Not my Foxglove,” she whimpered piteously. “I told you to steer clear of the herbs and flowers, Ollie! How many times did I beg you?”
He stepped aside as she stomped past, slamming the door shut behind her.
“Huh,” Ollie concluded. “You know, she’s scary quiet. It’s almost like she’s hiding sometimes.”
“For a man who worked on the CEDAR project,” Gavin observed, “you aren’t very smart, are you?”
“I’m a biologist, not a botanist.” Ollie gave a defensive shrug, missing the point.
Gavin let out a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a grunt. “I wasn’t talking about the plants,” he clarified. Moving to the window, he could see Onyx in the garden kneeling over a flattened plant and uttering a long string of incoherent curses. “Just...stay out of the garden, okay? For your own safety.”
“All right,” Ollie said, his shoulders hunching as he sat down beside his basket of produce. “But just look at these tomatoes, though!” He held one up, eyes gleaming with pride, and Gavin noted with dismay the long stem that was still attached to the fruit’s crown.
The whole situation seemed surreal. Ollie was the unwitting target of Onyx’s misplaced rage. The Weaver’s capture, Nero’s fleet, CEDAR, the imminent invasion of Earth...she had assumed personal responsibility for everything that was happening. But the only recourse she had was to lash out over tomatoes and hornworms.
“Talk to me, Ollie.”
Gavin sat down opposite the man who was now happily emptying his basket into neat piles on the table. He eyed the teacup. Gavin didn’t like tea, but Onyx never asked. She just handed it to him and he drank it. To him it just tasted like hot water with a faint hint of grass to it. He did like the smell, though. The smell always made him think, maybe the next sip will taste better.
It never did.
Ollie looked up. “About what?”
“What else can you tell me about where they might be holding the Weaver?”
Ollie’s face fell. “I’ve told you everything I know, Gavin. They were keeping us in the CEDAR facilities. I’d assume that he’s there, too, but there’s no way to tell for certain without getting inside. Especially since he’s such a high value target. Nero might be keeping him close. Just in case.”
“So maybe the Council complex, then?” Gavin suggested.
Shrugging, Ollie grimaced. “Maybe. Probably not, though. CEDAR is more secure.”
“If I can just make it into the city,” Gavin said in annoyance, more to himself than to Ollie, “I’m certain I can make it into the facility after that.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Gavin,” Ollie warned. “It’s easier to guard a building than a whole city, after all, and so far they’re managing both pretty well. Plus, you know they’ll have plenty of Envicti surrounding the Weaver. If you could just waltz in and grab him, he wouldn’t have been caught in the first place.”
Gavin knew Ollie was right, but he still didn’t want to believe it.
“What about a timeline on Nero’s fleet?”
Disbelief fell like a shadow over Ollie’s face. “Are you kidding?” he asked. “The only reason I even know about the fleet is because of what the Weaver told me before he was captured. I wasn’t privy to any information about it at all. And everything he told me, I told you. Which wasn’t much, by the way. It doesn’t matter how many times you ask me, Gavin. I can’t give you something I don’t have.”
Each of Gavin’s Imradian contacts had proven similarly unhelpful. It seemed that Nero was doing a fine job keeping a tight lid on his plans...and his prisoners.
Gavin could feel the press of time weighing down on him. The same pervasive thoughts consumed him every waking moment. Find the Weaver. Stop Nero. Find the Weaver. Stop Nero.
If he had the full force of Tapestry behind him, Gavin believed they might have had a fighting chance at putting an end to Nero’s plans, but Tapestry didn’t answer to Gavin. Only the Weaver kept them together. Without their leader, Tapestry would once again falter as it had over a century ago. Especially with so many young recruits filling the holes in the ranks where old members had stepped aside, unwilling to return to a life that promised little more than persecution. Not enough Therans believed that things were so bad. Too many of them would turn a blind eye to the fate of Earth, so long as their own comfortable way of living was protected.
This was the calm before the storm, the time during which Nero was too busy to renew a hunt for the underground rebels. But what would happen when the storm hit? The youth, the dreamers—their zeal would fade, their courage melting under the heat of Nero’s pursuit. The Weaver held the strands together. If Gavin did not find a way to free him, there would be nothing they could do to stop Nero from conquering Earth. And when he was done there, who could say what plans he had in store for Thera?
“Gavin?”
Ollie was looking at him expectantly, and Gavin realized he hadn’t been listening. “Sorry. I’ve got a lot of things on my mind.”
“Oh. Well, I can’t assist any more with your rescue plans, but I am a great listener. Want to just talk about it? Might help you sort some stuff out.” Ollie asked, his face full of such genuine compassion that Gavin’s knee-jerk response almost made him feel bad.
“No.”
Almost.
“Oh,” said Ollie, nodding. He was quiet for a moment before asking, “What else is on your mind?”
Gavin wondered if the boy would follow him if he, too, went out to help Onyx in the garden.
“I know you’ll find a way to get to him,” Ollie said, taking his best shot at comforting Gavin’s unspoken concerns. “Hey! You have contacts in the city, right? Have you tried reaching out to them?”
Gavin gave Ollie a sidelong glance that suggested he did not appreciate being taken for an idiot, but Ollie did not appear skilled at understanding subtle hints. He sat back in his chair looking expectant again, waiting for Gavin’s reaction to such a brilliant suggestion.
Sighing, Gavin nodded. “Yes, Ollie. I’ve already reached out to all of my contacts. Citizens of Imradia are free to come and go, at least for now. Unfortunately, they’re still subjected to searches and identification checkpoints, so none of them can get me inside.”
“And none of them were able to tell you anything more useful than that? No, of course they couldn’t.” Ollie chuckled, as if pleased with his brilliant powers of deduction. “If they’d been helpful, you wouldn’t be back here asking me all the same questions again.”
Gavin’s jaw twitched. He understood now why Onyx had such a hard time getting along with Ollie. All he wanted to do, it seemed, was chat.
“I was thinking about painting the door,” Ollie said, sitting up straighter and grinning. “I wanted to do something nice for Onyx, you know, to thank her for helping me. Her door is in pretty rough shape. I was thinking of painting it. Do you think she’d like the same green, or is there another color she’d like better?”
This elicited a blank stare from Gavin, who could not comprehend what he was hearing. “You were thinking...of painting...” He stood up from the table and looked Ollie in the eye.
“Ollie, do you understand what’s going on right now?”
The young man flashed him a curious look. “You’re trying to find a way to free the Weaver, and I’m hiding here with Onyx in case you need my help.”
Gavin nodded. “And do you understand how dire the situation is?”
At this, Ollie frowned, his eyes dropping to the table. He reached out with one hand to fiddle with the wilting leaf that drooped from the long tomato stem. “Yeah.”
“Then you must realize that I have more important things going on than worrying about something as trivial as the color of a door.” Gavin heard his own voice rising, which surprised him.
“I can tell you’re angry, you know,” Ollie didn’t look up at Gavin as he spoke. “But it’s okay. I know you’re not angry at me. You’re angry at yourself.”
The young man leaned forward, pulling the tomato toward him and holding it with both hands.
“I never knew my father. He was part of the old guard, you know? The original Tapestry I guess you’d call it. He was taken during the last raids. It’s funny, isn’t it? It was almost a century ago that the Elder Council rounded up the members of Tapestry and imprisoned them or sent them away to where they couldn’t cause any more trouble. My father managed to evade them. My family lived in peace for a long time, thinking that the past was behind them. Who could have guessed that they’d come for him fifty years later? I wasn’t even born yet when they dragged him away. I don’t even know where he ended up. I’d like to think it was someplace nice, like Solara.”
Ollie paused, and Gavin wasn’t sure if he expected him to speak. “I’m sorry, Ollie,” he began, but the younger man was not finished.
“You see, Gavin, Tapestry didn’t ever really disappear. It faded, maybe, but it was still there. The Elder Council knew it. That’s why they never gave up hunting for its members. That’s why, fifty years ago, they came for my father. They never stopped fearing the threat to their power. But the thing they didn’t understand is that Tapestry has always been more of an idea than an organization. And an idea can’t be killed. They may have cut down a great tree, but all that does is let the light through for little trees to grow up in its place.”
He looked down at the tomato in his hands, picking it up and turning it over and over between the tips of his fingers, staring at it. “Thera has a long history of pain. Deep wounds that may have healed, but the scars still remain. We all live under the shadow of that history. I know you worry that us young people aren’t willing to do what needs to be done. I’ve heard you talking to Onyx about it. And yes, maybe I’m thinking about painting a door when terrible things are happening in the world.” He sighed. “But the truth is that terrible things are always happening. And that pressure, to always stay ahead of the next threat, that builds up on a person. It’s been building up on you for a lifetime.”
Ollie clenched the tomato between his palms now, cupping his fingers around it. “And if all you have to live for is that pressure—if there are no doors to be painted, no gardens to be weeded, well...that’s not really living, is it? The pressure gets to be too much. And then...” His fists closed around the ripe fruit, and pulp and seeds appeared between the lengths of his fingers as he crushed it before tilting his head up to Gavin with a meaningful look.
“Your own strength can only get you as far as it gets you, you know? There are burdens we pass by, because we can’t carry them alone. But if you share the load with others, far more becomes possible.” Ollie’s voice was quiet. “Don’t be the tomato.”
The two stared at each other. The door creaked as it opened behind them and Onyx came in.
“I don’t think it’s a lost cause, but it’s not pretty—Sweet Evenmire, what on Thera have you done to my tomato?”