Steel Lily ARC Read Free

and still wearing a look like there was a pile of dung under her nose. I sighed, and in that instant decided Histories of America was not on my to-do list today.
    The tide of people pushed against my back, surging toward their destinations without pause. I pressed myself against the cold concrete wall and went against the traffic until I reached the stairwell.
    Ten flights of stairs stood between extreme stupidity and me.
    The Polatzi swarmed down on the main roads, like hawks circling weaker prey. They rarely bothered Elites, but Traditionals were fair game. I dug in my satchel for the crocheted beanie Alice made me a couple weeks prior. It would be perfect to hide my flaming red hair — a dead giveaway for me, since I hadn’t met anyone with a head of locks like mine.
    Well, except for my mom.
    And she was gone.
    Each step I took reverberated off the steel steps, no matter how lightly I treaded. I waited for someone to ask me where I was going, why I was using the stairway when airbuses ran around the clock, but no one stopped me. I took it as an indication that fate was on my side for this little endeavor.
    With my mask back in place, I put my beanie on and hoped there weren’t any Polatzi close to recognize me. If I could get into a crowd, I could disappear into the masses.
    Probably.
    Hopefully.
    The seal on the door hissed when I pushed against it, and then the harsh light bombarded me.
    Rebellion. Sweet, adrenaline-inducing rebellion.
    Freedom surged through me as I stepped outside. The pathway out of Wutherford Tower and into the Traditional area of the Dome was worn to mud from the humidity and sweat of everyday life. It was real. It was gritty.
    It was life for everyone but a select few.
    Twenty minutes later I passed under the Welcome to Detroit, the Motor City sign. It creaked as it swayed back and forth, barely hanging onto the thick wire holding it aloft. I scanned the surging crowd for the sweeping capes of the Polatzi, who would be more than happy to cart me back to “approved” grounds, but saw none.
    I was safe…
    For now.
    I pulled my beanie a bit further down and kept my head down. It wouldn’t take the Polatzi long to figure out it was me if they saw a stray lock, or saw my Elite mask.
    To the right of the market was government housing. Wooden boards covered broken windows and hid the inhabitants from the outside world. Candlelight flickered through the boards of one house, as the family turned in for the evening. Even the bravest souls made sure to be off the streets when darkness fell.
    There was little mercy for those out past curfew.
    I’d take the risk today.
    With one last glance around, I headed into the crowded marketplace building and stuffed my mask back in my bag. One less identifying trait to worry about.
    People milled about, murmuring, their faces tinged with resolve. There was no joy in this place. Only a dogged determination to survive.
    Most of the lights overhead were broken and hung by their thin wiring. A few flickered as they clung to life, casting everything in a sickly yellow glow. Steam hung in the air like a corporeal being and made me feel like the market wouldn’t be out of place in the underworld.
    I gazed around the hazy market as people brushed past me, not bothering to apologize or excuse themselves. Signs for booths and “Today Only!” sales bombarded me from either side. The constant stream of people made it almost impossible to see down the long row of wooden ramshackled booths.
    “Hey, shorty,” called the familiar, slow drawl of a southern woman who used to know me all too well.
    The wooden cart to my left was laden with overripe fruit. The woman behind the table leaned toward me, her ample bosom spilling out of her ragged dress. She placed a hand on her chest and smiled broadly. “My lands, if it ain’t baby girl comin’ down from her throne! I haven’t seen you since your mamma and daddy got snatched. Now look at you, all grown up.”
    Heat rushed to