The Fifth City Read Online Free Page A

but it was at home.  He slid into the room and saw Gero with a dark-haired girl whose back was to him.
    She turned at the sound of his entrance and the eyes that met his were Sylvia’s.  They held that same determined look, mixed with sadness.
    “Nice hair,” he said, trying to grin, but it felt like a grimace.
    She laughed a little nervously and he saw her cheeks flush pink.  A full pack hung from her shoulders, and behind her, a stairwell descended into darkness that he could only assume led out of the city.
    There had always been rumors that there were ancient tunnels leading out of the city; but it had always seemed a joke—a myth.  He briefly wondered who had found it, or if Gero had known all along—something that was passed down to each Governor by their predecessor.
    He had asked her to wait, telling her that he needed to give her something for her journey.  He practically ran back to his villa, not remembering his feet pounding down the paths, only his heart pounding in his throat.  It beat out a rhythm he couldn’t seem to get rid of: she’s leaving, she’s leaving, she’s leaving.
    He darted inside his villa and his mother yelped at the sound of the front door banging open.  After a quick apology to his mother, he sought the box in his room that held Sylvia’s gift.  He opened it just to be sure it was perfect.
    The blade was short, yet wickedly sharp.  A wolf’s head topped the pommel, with tufts of fur fading into a leaf pattern that ran down the fair-colored wood.  He set it back in the box, and it struck him even harder that Sylvia was truly leaving.  He headed back to the Hall, a little less energy in his step now.
    He had tried to volunteer to go with her weeks ago, after he had gotten over the initial shock of the announcement, but Gero wouldn’t let him.  The Governor had been firm: Ven was needed in the city to help train the Defenders.  Everyone had their part to play.
     
    *   *   *
     
    The hoot of an owl snapped Ven out of his reverie, and he scanned the surrounding forest.  Still dark, still empty.  He continued on down the parapet, dutifully watching for danger.
    He had given Sylvia the dagger before saying goodbye, hoping it would help protect her wherever her journey took her.  Intense regret flashed through him again at the memory of their goodbye.
    He should have kissed her.  It had been the perfect moment, and he should have kissed her .  He cursed under his breath as he replayed the scene in his head.  The images continued to surface no matter how hard he tried to forget.
    What if she had been expecting him to kiss her?  Or even worse, what if something happened to her in Lightcity?  Had he lost his best and last opportunity to show her how much she meant to him?
    Since she had announced her journey, Sylvia had grown distant.  The time they used to spend together had dwindled down to nothing.  She was caught up in planning meetings with Gero and the council—pouring over maps of Lightcity and Arcera, picking apart Greyling’s motives and actions, and trying to find the key to ending this war.
    He didn’t fault her for it.  He knew he shouldn’t.
    A sudden breeze filtered through the bare branches of the treewall as he passed the treegate.  The two ancient trees towered over him, their trunks disappearing into the black night sky far above.
    He hated himself for wanting Sylvia to stay.  How could he be so selfish, wanting her here instead of out there, risking her life to keep Meadowcity safe?
    But that was what he liked about her—the burning ember of determination that glinted in her eyes, the fierce love she held for her family, for Meadowcity.  He simply couldn’t compete.
    The rest of his night was quiet, with only a brief encounter with another guard up on the parapet.  They exchanged a few words and walked on through the night.
    Ven wondered if Sylvia had yet breached the walls of Lightcity, and what it would take for her to return to