The Chosen One's Mom

Chapter 7

VIVIENNE - PRESENT

"I do not know how much you remember of life in the Milieu." Lucienne stepped out of the chute first.

Below, it had been one tree among thousands, large and grandmotherly. Here, it was a column, one in an army positioned in rows ahead and to either side. Signs filled with glowing fog littered the close ceiling, touting services, sales, and opportunities. Herds of people rushed in all directions, glittering as their metal accessories caught splotches of light.

Blinking, Viv followed, soft moccasins thudding over bronze tiles. "We were on the run for two years before Leandro came along, and even then we took a while to settle."

Lucienne chuckled. "'Came along.' Sounds like the boy waddled up and decided to join your family."

"I wouldn't describe it as waddling as much as trampling my insides." Viv tried on a smile, but it rocked and tilted, in desperate need of something solid upon which to attach.

Lucienne was her friend—claimed to still be her friend even after twelve years of living a lie of omission. Questions marched through Viv's head, but none volunteered to be the first off her tongue. Regardless of Lucienne's secrets, Viv needed her help. As a denizen of the Above, Lucienne was better equipped to provide that help than an eager-to-learn Surfacer would have been.

Deciding to be grateful for that, Viv shook her head, blew out a breath through stiff lips, and stuck closer to Lucienne's heels.

Residents of the Middle flaunted their wealth in jewelry, yet Viv's jangle came from her weapons. Granted, their jewelry often doubled as weapon, but to the one getting stabbed there wasn't much difference between an engraved blade and one she had pulled from her kitchen block. She couldn't afford the luxury of pride.

Viv's curiosity was still a snake, though, writhing through her core and pushing questions into the shallows of her mind. She snatched the most practical of these. "Luce, do you know where to find Il Cacciatore?"

Lucienne glanced back with a long blink, for her the equivalent of a head shake. "I know how to find someone who can find someone who does. Unfortunately, it has been a long time since I have been to the Milieu."

She paused, and Viv didn't think her own expression had changed, but Lucienne's patient nod said it had.

"Yes, longer than since you were here. Much longer. Back before the hackberry tree was planted, I suspect, but sometimes my older memories lose their order."

"The Hackberry Village hackberry tree?" Viv's shout drew looks from those around them. Many were goggled, several magnified into a fish's caricature. "But that's—"

Lucienne stemmed the exclamation with a finger against Viv's lips, then finished it herself in a warm murmur. "Hundreds of years old. I know. I was there."

Viv swallowed. She wanted to pass her friend so if her thoughts showed on her face, Lucienne would have less chance of seeing them, but Viv didn't know where they headed, and her guide had stopped walking.

"Where are we going?"

Lucienne withdrew her hand. "Here."

Viv soundlessly echoed the word. There wasn't anything special about this spot, though it did feel marginally more open. The ceiling had given way to balconies stacked at least forty stories high. A maze of narrow platforms zigzagged across the square space above, suspended by or from propellors. Steam of every hue clawed at crevices like sticky fingers. Far above it all, the skylight showcased clouds set ablaze in pale orange with the slant of evening light.