Roth, Veronica - Carve the Mark 02 - The Fates Divide by Veronica Roth

Author:Veronica Roth [Roth, Veronica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2018-02-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 32: CYRA

TEKA AND I RETURNED to the small apartment to which Aza had assigned us. It was a single room, with a stove half as wide as the one I had used on the sojourn ship—I thought of its permanent splatters with a sharp pang that made me hesitate with my jacket buttons—and a bathroom we couldn’t both stand in at the same time. Still, there was a little desk where I read late at night, when Teka turned away from the light. She kept tools and wires and computer parts in a box in the corner, and built little things in her spare time, little remote control vehicles with wheels, or a hanging ornament that sparked when the wind blew.

She stripped off her jacket as soon as we were through the door, and tossed it on the bed, its sleeves inside out. I was more careful with mine, undoing each metal button with both hands. The luminous thread was stitched around each buttonhole, keeping it from tearing—a finely made thing, it was, and one I hoped I would get to keep.

Teka was over at my desk, touching her fingers to the page I had left open with a notebook beside it.

“‘The family Kereseth is one of the oldest of the fated families—arguably the first, though they have never expressed much interest in debating that point. Their fates rarely, if ever, guide them toward leadership positions, but rather to sacrifice or, more mysterious still, seemingly unremarkable destinies.’” Teka frowned. “Are you translating this from Ogran yourself?”

I shrugged. “I like languages.”

“Do you speak Ogran?”

“I’m trying to learn it,” I said. “Some scholars say it’s more poetic than most languages—has more rhyming or near-rhyming sounds. I prefer Shotet for poetry, personally, because I don’t enjoy rhymes, but . . .”

She was staring at me.

“. . . I do enjoy the challenge of it. What?”

“You’re odd,” she said.

“You just built a little machine that makes chirping sounds,” I said. “And when I asked you what it was for, you said ‘chirping sounds.’ And I’m the one who’s odd?”

Teka smiled a little. “Fair.”

Her gaze returned to the book. I knew she was about to ask me why I was translating the section about the Kereseth family, and maybe she knew that I knew, too, because she never actually asked the question.

“It’s not what you think. I’m not looking into them because of him,” I said. “It’s . . .”

I hadn’t told anyone what Vara said to me. My Kereseth blood seemed like a secret that ought to be kept. After all, it was the Noavek name that made me useful to the exiles now. Without it, they might dispose of me.

But I had committed worse crimes in front of Teka than having the wrong name, and she was still here. In the past, the idea of trusting another person would have terrified me. But I didn’t feel that fear now.

“The oracle told me something,” I said.

And I told Teka the story.

“Okay, so you’re

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