Chapter 13.

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"... I know you said that we'd leave right away but we just escaped a giant fire, and I got a good knock on the head. Can't we rest?" I heard Oliver complain.

    "And that knock on the head gave you all the rest you'll need," I answered sharply. I wasn't exactly trying to be harsh on him. It was simply coming out of me in that fashion, as hard as I tried not. Honestly, I needed to rest too, but I was too wary to. After all, I thought I had enough to worry about, what with traveling the country alone, having to kill and steal to survive, as well as avoiding the Mits, and finding everything I needed all before my birthday- but now assassins? I was lucky if I ever slept peacefully with that knowledge again, and yet, the cool night air blew soft on my cheek, a whispered lullaby in an otherwise still night.

     "Hey, Eva?" I heard Oliver ask softly.

     I sighed. "Yes? What do you need?"

     "Oh, I suppose I don't really need anything. I guess I just wanted to say thank you... and sorry."

      "For what?" I inquired, turning my head to give him eye contact, while still keeping my pace consistent.

     "Back there, at The Rusty Spigot, you saved our lives. I know I already called you a genius, but really, we should be dead right now. While I panicked, you immediately assessed the situation and came up with a solution. Even if it did include crushing the bracelet." I could barely hear the last part, with his voice dropping to a whisper.

      Oh right. I did destroy his things, without even giving them a second thought. "I'm sorry for having to crush the shells. I'm assuming it was important to you?"

      "You could say that," he responded mysteriously, looking up into the sky. I could see his pale face in the full moon's light, nervous green eyes reflecting sullenly under all that thick hair. It was a strangely beautiful sight, like something an artisan would paint a portrait of to capture forever.

     He responded a moment later though. "It was from my sister. She made it for me when she was very young. We had gone to a beach in Liverpool, and she made it out of whatever she could find, right then and there."

     "Liverpool?" I interrupted. "I've never heard of a place with that name. Is it by the California Sector?" It would make sense. They were notorious for their beaches.

     He shook his head. "No, not at all. It's much farther than that. In England, where I'm from."

     "Oh, another country. No wonder you sound strange sometimes." I laughed before I could stop myself. But instead of seeming angry, he just laughed too.

      "I guess I probably do, even if it was a long time ago."

      "So, why did you leave?" I asked. Moving to another country was strange, especially for someone as young as him.

     "Oh, well..." He suddenly became very quiet. "I had to, after..."

     I shouldn't have tried to pry, but I was so curious, and he seemed to be ready to open up any second. "After what? Did something happen?"

    "Well, it's going to sound so ironic after tonight but... my sister, my family... They all died, in a fire."

      His normally smooth voice was riddled with shudders and stops. I stopped walking altogether, and by the time he reached me, it was impossible to miss the two streams of tears leaking from both eyes.

      Though I had been against it before, I reached an arm out to pull him close, as he had done to me before. As he rested his chin lightly on my shoulder, I could hear him whisper lightly, "You know, she reminds me so much of her. Sophie. That's why I need to get those heart pieces. I can't lose her too."

      "You won't. I swear on it. We'll get both of our pieces, no matter what I have to do for it. I'll save us, both of us."

      "Thank you. That means a lot to me." I could hear the small, pained smile in his tone. "You know you can let go of your hold on me now, right?"

     "Oh right! Sorry!" I immediately backed up, taking my hands off him, and turning back to walking. We were almost out of the Automaton District now, the high walls and toppling house of pieces together metal slabs slowly dying down and making way for open fields of vegetation.

      "You don't have to apologise for that, Evan," Oliver enunciated, and I could see that he was back to his joking self. "Now can we please rest? My legs ache, and I think we've had enough action for one night."

        "All right," I agreed. "I think we're far enough away to not be caught. If I'm right, this should be the eleventh district."

        "For not ever having left home, you sure know your geography," Oliver pointed out, throwing himself on the plush grass on the ground.

      In a moment I was on the ground beside him, staring up into the endless black sky. "I studied a lot growing up. Maps, engineering, sewing, heart smithing... Anything I could get my hands on really, whether Father approved of it or not." I slightly chuckled to myself, reminded of my many mechanical projects he had huffed over in my younger years. "It was all I was ever really allowed to do."

      "Well, at least that'll come in handy for us," he pointed out, reaching his arms behind his head for support on the uneven ground.

      I hummed dully in agreement. "Especially the heartsmithing." I felt the stolen piece in my pocket now, still coated in blood, as I had had no time to clean it up properly yet. "I am not looking forward to that tomorrow."

      "Tomorrow? You're going to put that... that thing in your chest, all on your own tomorrow?" Oliver cried out in surprise, breaking the quiet night. "Shouldn't you wait until we have every piece, and just do the surgery all at once?"

      I sighed. "I wish it were that simple Oliver. I really do. But I already don't have much time left. Father always said that if I can't get every piece by my twenty-first birthday, that that will be the end of me. Any compatible piece I find should be attached as soon as possible, if only to extend my life a bit further. And who knows. Perhaps if I do collect all the pieces, I'll be able to love. Be able to feel Love."

       "I've never heard of a condition like that. You really can't feel Love?" Oliver asked, although it seemed more like a challenge.

     "That's what Father said."

     "Yes, but haven't you ever been-"

     "My Father was a Heartsmith, Oliver. The very best. He would know my condition better than anyone." I cut him off. Really, him talking as if he knew me and my body, better than a professional.

     "All right then. I'm sorry I asked." And with that, he was on his side, facing away from me. It hurt slightly as I realized this was the second time I had done this tonight, and I wished he would turn back around, but not so much so that I was willing to apologise. Instead, I turned away myself, and tried to let myself rest.

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