NINE

Bright blood had seeped through Diamond’s trousers, but now the blood darkened and seeped back into his skin, leaving the fabric clean but slightly damp. Seldom’s knee and the back of one hand were badly scraped. He wiped the hand against the leg of his school uniform, studying the resulting stain.

Both boys stood, and Diamond gave the bicycle’s front wheel a hard spin, watching the wooden spokes blurring.

Then Seldom threw the stiff leg over the seat, remembering to say, “We have to hurry.”

Diamond walked beside his friend, astonished to see him stand on the pedals, maintaining his fragile balance.

“Master Nissim’s waiting,” Seldom said.

Diamond started to jog. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Stay up.”

The boy considered. “I don’t know. I learned how, and I do it.”

Hanner was straight ahead. The largest, most cherished tree in the District, its oldest surviving limb was beneath the broad golden walkway. Wooden buildings and long platforms were clustered along the way—a confusing mishmash of homes and businesses and gardens grown for food and for color. Epiphytes dangled from special pots, and the air was perfumed, and people were walking everywhere, and some of them were talking, one man shaking his hand at empty air, telling nothing, “I’m sorry I brought you.”

Seldom pedaled and then coasted. When they were past the shouting man, he rolled his eyes, saying, “That one’s crazy.”

“What does that mean?”

“He can’t trust his own thoughts.”

Diamond looked back at the shouter. “What about those other men?” he asked.

“From the blimp?”

He nodded.

“I don’t know where they are,” the boy said, pedaling again.

Every nearby face was new to Diamond.

“When they realized you were gone, two of them left the ship,” Seldom said. “The other man, the scariest one . . . he walked down the gangway behind us. That wasn’t long ago. Master Nissim told us to run ahead and hunt for you. He’s going to find us later.”

“Where’s Elata?”

“Up ahead.” Squeezing a clamp, Seldom made the back wheel squeak and slow down. “She doesn’t know how to ride a two-wheeler. That’s why I’m the one who borrowed it.”

Diamond didn’t react.

“I borrowed this machine,” he repeated. “I don’t steal.”

“What does ‘steal’ mean?”

“Taking what isn’t yours,” Seldom said. “It’s always wrong, unless of course you don’t have any choice.”

Twin white pillars stood on flanking sides of the walkway. They were still in the distance, tall and narrow objects curling toward each other up high and ending in points. Grand red flags were stuck on top, flapping in unison as breezes blew.

“Diamond,” said Seldom, his voice quiet and nervous. Glancing at the boy trotting beside him, he asked, “What else can you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Besides healing fast . . . what other magic do you know . . . ?”

“What’s magic?”

Seldom was breathing quickly, deeply. “Master Nissim says you have powers. Rare powers, and it’s not just that you heal when you get hurt. There’s going to be other things you can do. You’re special, he told us.”

“No,” Diamond said.

Seldom didn’t hear him, or he didn’t listen. “That’s why those men want you. The Master doesn’t know how they know, but they learned about you and they’re desperate to catch you. You’re that important.”

Diamond glanced over his shoulder again.

“What other enchantments can you do?”

“None.”

“You run fast,” Seldom pointed out. “I’ve never seen any kid run this fast or for as long.”

“I can’t climb,” Diamond pointed out. “Not ropes and barely ladders.”

“I guess not. But you’re stronger than you look.”

“Adults are stronger than me.”

The boy thought for a moment. “Maybe today. But what happens when you grow up? You’ll do all sorts of magic, maybe.”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe you’ll be a giant,” Seldom suggested. “Powerful and bulletproof, and everybody will be afraid of you.”

“I hope not.”

“Or.” Seldom hesitated, and then a brilliant smile filled his face. “Maybe you’ll grow wings.”

Diamond said nothing.

“Your parents must be remarkable people,” Seldom said. “If they have a son like you, I mean.”

“They are remarkable.”

“I want to meet them,” Seldom said.

Diamond smiled. “I see Elata.”

“You do? Where?”

“She’s on the right tower, watching for us.”

Seldom didn’t see her immediately. “You’ve got good eyes too.”

“But I won’t be a giant.” The words were important. He slowed to a trot, and with a louder voice said, “And I won’t grow wings either.”

“Are you sure?” his friend called back to him.

“Yes.”

“Too bad,” Seldom said. “Wings would be a lot of fun.”

Elata jumped down from the pillar and ran to meet them. She was thrilled to see both boys, but Diamond got the hug.

“Where’s the Master?” Seldom asked.

“He’s trying to lose that man.” She said the words and then thought that was a funny way to talk, as if the dangerous fellow was a possession to be put into a box and forgotten. Hugging herself, she watched the people streaming past. People were watching them, watching Diamond. Keeping her voice low, she told Seldom, “We’ll look for him now. Leave the bicycle here.”

“We should take it back where we found it,” he said.

He was such a nervous boy, nothing at all like his brother. “The owner finds it or doesn’t,” she insisted. “Either way, we’d waste time, and Master Nissim would have to wait for us.”

Seldom left the machine propped against the railing. “It looks lonely,” he said.

“I guess it does,” she said.

They trotted ahead. Past the pillars, the walkway spread out into an enormous open plaza, silvery-white and famous across the world. Half a thousand citizens were moving in every possible direction, all of them busy. The tree trunk was covered with government buildings, elaborate wooden constructions soaring up and up, windows and staircases and ladders beyond number, every office marked by a banner hanging in the noisy air. The biggest banner was the highest, and it read, “Archon.”

Diamond paused beside one white pillar, his hand playing across its surface.

“Come on,” Elata said.

But he was fascinated, focused. The pillar was built from hundreds of teeth, each tooth long and slightly curved, each set snug against its neighbors. The razor edges were buried inside. Gaps in the mortar and a few stolen teeth afforded handholds for a determined girl, and that’s how she had managed to climb to the top. Slick and very cold, the teeth felt as if they were alive. That’s what she thought whenever she touched one. And nothing else in the world was as purely, perfectly white as what was slipping beneath her friend’s quick little fingers.

“Where do these come from?” Diamond asked.

“The corona,” she said.

He looked at her, touching his mouth, his teeth.

“I don’t know who put them together,” she said. “But these markers are older than any tree, and they always stand guard in front of the Corona District’s headquarters.”

Diamond stepped back and looked up, mouthing the letters on the flapping flag.

“The District of Corona Welcomes All,” she read aloud.

Again, Diamond looked at her.

“The district is named for the animals,” Elata told him.

“Why?”

“Because there’s no better hunting in the world than here,” she said.

She could have predicted it. “Why?” he asked again.

“I don’t know why,” she said. Then a nice thought jumped into her head, and she said it. “Ask your father when we find him.”

Seldom was listening. He had his own big smile, and he said, “Look where I’m standing. These came off the coronas too.”

Diamond stepped out on the plaza and knelt down, hands pressed against silvery-white surface. Thousands of scales covered the thick planks of wood. Each one was as big as a man’s shirt, and they overlapped like they would have in life, fixed in place with special glues and pins.