Read Wings (A Black City Novel) for Free Online Page A

peeling off its metal bodywork and a rusting chimney that spews clouds of soot into the resin-brown skies. The
Fogger
’s ugly, but we blend in perfectly with all the other boats on the busy waterway. I gaze down at the river, which is a vivid orange color—a by-product of decades of pollution being dumped into the water by the munitions factories.
    The river cuts through the heart of Gallium and is the best way to get around the crowded city. We sail past towering skyscrapers. Their façades are covered in sheets of tarnished metal, creating a patchwork of dirty bronze, verdigris green and gunmetal gray, reminding me of a famous cubist painting that I once saw at Emissary Bradshaw’s home in Centrum. The cool spring air whips through the
Fogger
’s windows, and I hug my jacket closer around myself as I sit down on the long wooden seat.
    Like many people in Gallium, I’m wearing a respirator mask, which covers my nose and mouth, obscuring the lower part of my face. As well as being a handy disguise, it’s also protecting my lungs from the noxious fumes belching out of the munitions factories all around the city. The fumes won’t kill you, but I’d still rather not breathe them in, as the air
stinks.
The mask is rather claustrophobic, though, and I adjust the strap, loosening it a little. In addition to the mask, I’m dressed in black leather slacks, with a tight gray vest and hooded tailcoat, which is hiding the gun holstered around my shoulder. Destiny and Elijah are similarly dressed, although his jacket is longer than ours, to conceal his tail.
    Garrick and Sasha are in the cockpit, steering the vessel. They’re both wearing disguises like ours, even though they’re not in much danger. The Lupines are considered allies of Purian Rose, so they aren’t on his list of Impurities to be sent to the Tenth—a detention camp the size of a small state—unlike the Darklings, Bastets, Dacians or “race traitors” like me; it’s not uncommon to see them walking around the streets. Garrick and Sasha are risking a lot by helping out the Sentry rebels. It’s reassuring to know that not all the Lupines are blindly obedient to Purian Rose; some of them disagree with his One Faith, One Race, One Nation policy and want him out of power. It gives me hope.
    I cross my legs, and something jabs into my thigh. It’s the gardening knife I stole from the UG this morning. I take it out, turning it over in my hands. The whole thing is about five inches long, with a sturdy wooden handle covered in yellow paint. I scratch a word into the paintwork with my thumbnail. When I’m finished, Destiny walks over to me, a little unsteady on her feet as the
Fogger
rocks slightly. She peers down at my handiwork.
    “‘Polly?’” she says, reading the word I’ve scrawled into the handle. “Interesting name. My weapon’s called Mr. Shooty,” she says, patting her holster.
    I chuckle, tucking the blade back into my pocket. I pull out the list of supplies that Dr. Craven asked us to get, since we were heading into the city. My parents were initially against us going to the shop, but I reminded them we’d be in disguise. Besides, I’ve been running a rebellion for the past few months. I can handle a shopping list.
    “Where can we go to get all these supplies?” I ask.
    “Babbage and Son’s in Flux Plaza,” Destiny says. “Scott’s a friend of mine.”
    “I’ll go tell Garrick,” Elijah says.
    I watch him as he strolls over to the cockpit, a crease between his brow, deep in thought. I wonder if he’s thinking about his mom.
    “I hope Garrick’s men find Yolanda and the others,” I say.
    “What good will it do?” Destiny says. “I doubt the Commander will agree to a rescue mission, hon. There’s nothing in it for him.”
    “But they could lead us to the Ora,” I say. “We really ought to be looking for it. We can’t guarantee the Sentry rebels’ weapons will be enough; shouldn’t we have a backup?” The Sentry rebels