The Sky is Everywhere

Chapter Two

Years ago, I saw a fox inside the grounds, and I've never forgotten the way the lithe, sleek shape streaked across the grass, the sunlight catching on that glorious red pelt, or the way it paused briefly and looked at me, one paw raised, dark eyes gleaming, tail a proud brush. We had regarded each other for a moment, and then the spell broke and the fox went on its way. I never saw it again.

The boy on the other side of the fence reminds me of that fox.

Maybe a year or two older than me, his hair is reddish, but darker and richer than Sonny's, and his eyes are blue, and he holds himself with a watchful wariness, like a wild animal emerging from the woods for the first time.

For a moment I can't move, convinced that if I do, he will disappear like that fox. But he doesn't.

My heart flutters madly in my chest, and I'm hyperaware of the warmth of his fingers on mine.

Then his eyes move over my face, lingering on my scars, and I pull away. My skin feels hot and tight, my pulse is thrumming.

"What are you doing here?" I say.

He glances to the left, where the CC is, but no one can see us here, and then he looks back at my face.

At my scars.

Anger is a small sun burning in my chest, as I remember Taffy's words from this morning.

"You've come to stare at the freaks, right? At the unwanted Seconds?" I spit, glaring at him.

It's happened before. Kids come from London, traipsing through the thick surrounding woodland, to peer through the fence at us, but it's usually further up the grounds, closer to the CC itself. Better chance of spotting the Seconds that way.

We are freaks to them. They don't see us as people, just things to point and laugh at through the fence. The Handlers usually get rid of them quickly enough, but by then the damage is done.

Taffy and Priya told me that on the outside there are things called zoos, places where people gather to look at animals in cages, and that's all we are – attractions. Things to stare at.

They always seem to think they're going to see something really abnormal, because of course Seconds aren't kids like them, and then they spot me or Taffy, see our scars, and seem to decide they were right in thinking that.

When I think of how Taffy struggles with her injuries, so much worse than my own, I clench my fists.

"Well?" I snap. "Did you get a good look?"

The boy looks taken aback. "That's not why I'm here."

I don't believe him.

His hands are still curled in the fence, and it makes me uncomfortable somehow. I've hated this fence for years, but at the same time it is a clear barrier between me and things I don't understand. Holding the fence like that, this boy seems like he's straddling the boundary between our two worlds.

"Uh, can we start again?" he says. "I'm Roan Mason."

"Do I look like I care? What are you doing here?"

He glances in the direction of the CC again. "Are they treating you okay?" he asks.

It's the last thing I expect him to say, and I'm momentarily thrown, my words tangling in my throat.

"W-what?" I say at last.

"Are they treating you okay?" he says again. He looks me up and down, his gaze coming back to rest on my face. But he doesn't recoil or laugh, like I expect him to.

"Why . . . why would you ask me that? I'm a Second."

His eyebrows lift slightly. "Okay. And?"

"And no one on the outside cares about Seconds."

He moves closer to the fence, and I want to fall back a step, but my feet are rooted to the ground.

"That's not true," he says, and his words open up something in my heart.

All my life I've been told I'm worthless, that the world outside hates me and everyone like me, but . . . is there even a chance that Roan is telling the truth? I don't want to believe it, but the fluttering feeling in my heart is starting to feel like a spark of hope.

"I'm part of a group of human rights activists called Beyond, and we've been campaigning for years to draw attention to the issue of Seconds," Roan says. "I'm guessing you've noticed that, in the last few years, the Control Centre has been subject to random inspections, to make sure that the kids in their care are being treated properly."

I nod.

"That was down to my group."

When he's talking, his eyes light up with passion, and I'm suddenly very aware that he's the most beautiful boy I've ever seen.

My pulse flutters like a bird.

"So why are you here?" I look beyond him, to the swathe of countryside that separates us from London, expecting to see the rest of his group there, but there's no one. Only him.

He pauses, perhaps weighing what to tell me.

"What do you know about the Trials?" he says at last.

Once again, I'm caught off-guard, my brain fumbling to keep up.

"Why do you ask?" I say.

"Because we're very suspicious of them," he bluntly tells me.

I have no idea what to think about that. My brain is a tangled mess, and I'm confused and suspicious and Roan is still looking at me in a way that makes me feel too aware of everything.

"I have to go," I mumble.

This is all too strange, and I just can't process it.

"Wait," he says, and he's right up against the fence now, closer than I've ever seen any person from the outside. "At least tell me your name?"

I shouldn't, I know that, but it's in my mouth before I can think better of it, balancing on the tip of my tongue, before spreading wings and flying free.

"I'm Caia," I say.

He smiles, and it's made of sunshine, so bright and beautiful I almost can't look at it.

"Caia," he repeats. "I hope I get to see you again."

I haven't answered his questions, and I still don't know why he's here, but he smiles again and it's a piece of light in my normally grey world. I can't think of a single other thing to say, so I turn, slip my shoes back on, surreptitiously grab a mouse from the trap, wrap it in leaves and stuff it in my pocket for Boots, and then I hurry from my private little spot and back up the grounds to the CC.

I don't look back at Roan, but I'm sure I can feel the bright weight of his eyes on my back the whole way.