The Girl Who Dared to Think by Bella Forrest (best novels of all time TXT) 📗

course it was impossible. The very air felt like it was slowly dehydrating my lungs, to the point that I was wheezing more than breathing.

Pushing the bag in front of me, I wriggled forward, eager to be out of the tight space and away from the heat. I heard Grey struggling along behind me, but focused on moving forward—because if I got stuck, he got stuck. And this wasn’t a place for getting stuck.

Suddenly Roark’s hand appeared in my face, and I grabbed it, shoving the bag forward a few more feet and then crawling through. I gasped when I hit the catwalk and it swayed violently. I’d stepped out of an oven and into a raging storm, it seemed, as water and mist tore around us. I could hear the churning of tens of thousands of gallons of water drowning out everything else, and a thick, dense mist seemed to cling to everything.

“Where are we?” I shouted at Roark as I clung to the railing.

“Outside!” he shouted back, and my eyes widened. I looked around, and realized he was right—we were outside. More precisely, we were underneath Greenery 1, which hung some fifty feet off the ground, jutting out of the side of the Tower like a massive wing over the river. The churning sound I heard was from the vortex of waters below as they crashed into the hydro-turbines. The hundreds of thousands of gallons churning beneath us kicked up a thick haze of white mist that was making it difficult to see anything. I watched as Tian stepped delicately around me and began moving across the catwalk into the dense mist, turning long enough to beckon to me before disappearing in it. I looked around—the catwalk we had emerged from was flush with the side of the Tower, so the only way was forward.

I went back to help Grey out of the hole, and then shouldered my bag. It was time to see what “Sanctum” had in store for us.

Tian led us across a network of catwalks that seemed to intersect and disappear in the mist formed by the massive hydro-turbines. The catwalks were slick, but our Tower-issued boots helped us maintain steady footing as we followed her slim figure.

I looked around as we walked—I had seen the underside of a lot of greeneries before, but not this one; Knights couldn’t use their lashes in this humid environment. I guessed that was why the catwalks had been built here, so that maintenance could still be performed. It was hard to make much out in the mist, but I could see the shadows of structures through it—whether they were catwalks or pieces of equipment, I didn’t know.

We walked for twenty minutes, according to my indicator, before Tian began to dance forward. I followed her through a particularly hazy patch, then nearly brained myself on a massive iron door that had just appeared suddenly out of the mist.

Tian beamed up at me and then rapped on the door—three times, then twice, then three times again—and waited.

I heard something clank, and the door opened a crack, revealing a tall, statuesque woman with vibrant green eyes and jet-black hair gathered in a tight ponytail on top of her head. Her face was an imperious mask that to me read, Yes, you should be intimidated, because I will rip your throat out.

In an instant a knife was in her hand and she was on her guard, resting a shoulder against the inner wall and keeping the doorway blocked. “Tian,” she said, her voice husky. “What have you done?”

“Doxy! I found the pill-maker,” Tian chirped excitedly, clapping her hands and indicating Roark with unsubtle jerks of her head. “And he has friends!”

The woman regarded us, taking us in one by one, her eyes hard and flat. I sensed the distrust in her, and couldn’t blame her. I was feeling just as distrustful at the moment. Our eyes met and grappled, and I saw hers flick down and take in my uniform, seeming to see it for what it was.

Her eyes narrowed to twin green slits. “You brought a Knight?” she hissed, one strong hand reaching out and grabbing Tian by the wrist to haul her back inside. Tian’s eyes widened in surprise, and she caught herself on the door, resisting Doxy’s pull.

“She’s not like them. Like us!” she insisted, her jerking motions against her assailant’s more muscular arm feeble and weak.

“She’s standing right here,” I said, not wanting this to go on. “And I really don’t like how you’re handling Tian right now. I don’t care if you’ve known her longer than me.”

She dropped Tian’s arm as if it had bitten her and looked at me, her face quizzical and cautious. “You care about what happens to her?” she asked.

“Of course she does, Maddox,” Tian said, massaging the flesh of her arm where the woman—Maddox, whose nickname was apparently Doxy—had grabbed her. “She’s a good Knight. Like in the stories Cali tells us.”

Maddox pursed her lips. Then she looked at Roark. “You really the guy?”

“In the flesh—and in great need of your hospitality.”

Her eyes flicked back to Grey and myself. “And the Hand and Shield?”

“Strays that I just can’t bear to part with,” Roark said dryly, and I looked over to see Grey rolling his eyes theatrically.

Maddox watched for another moment, and then stepped to one side, pulling the door back. “In. Now.”

I was the last one to enter, allowing the others to go first while I glanced around us, taking one final look at the misty underbelly of the Tower. Zoe was still up in the Tower. Still angry and bitter, a four on her wrist. I hadn’t forgotten, so I just prayed that whatever was in store here wouldn’t take too long, and that they would let me get to my friend.

I stepped inside and helped Maddox close the door behind us. She slid some bars into place on the door by twisting the strange handle.

The first thing I noticed when