Guardians by Susan Kim Page A

to hear?
    â€œI got to know more.” The other boy spoke with muted exasperation. “Anything you know about Aras.”
    Eli felt even more desperate to comply. “Well—I mean—well, he has a dog.”
    â€œI know that,” Gideon said, ice in his voice.
    It was getting worse by the moment. “Then I don’t know what you—”
    â€œHe like girls?”
    â€œOh. Well, yeah. Esther.”
    â€œBesides Esther!”
    â€œNot that I saw.”
    Gideon leaned back. Eli noticed that he was working his right hand into a fist, then relaxing it. The boy stared directly into Eli’s eyes. The flash of gray made Eli dizzy, as if he were falling.
    Eli forced himself to look away.
    He felt torn. It was true that when Aras partnered with Esther, he had hated the blind guide more than he had thought possible. Yet even at his darkest moments, Eli still retained a grudging respect for the boy who had gotten them where they wanted to go, often by risking his own life. Although Gideon now wanted him to reveal something negative about his rival, Eli couldn’t bring himself to lie.
    â€œI’m sorry,” he said at last.
    Gideon stared at him a second more; then, with an abrupt nod, he turned to go.
    Eli followed him out, his heart pounding; never had he felt so helpless and full of regret. And then he remembered something.
    The guide had had an odd habit on the trail to Mundreel. Over the years, Eli had seen other boys do it once or twice, but none as frequently as Aras. Eli sensed that in private, Esther had discouraged the practice; certainly, Aras stopped altogether once the two became close, and that had been months ago.
    Revealing this now to Gideon would be a kind of betrayal . . . wouldn’t it?
    And yet it was true .
    All of a sudden, Eli felt good.
    â€œWait.” Gideon was already halfway down the hall, but at the word, he stopped. “There is something.”
    Gideon turned around. The intensity of his gaze gave Eli a strange feeling of excitement. He, Eli, was the only person in Gideon’s world right now .
    â€œWhat?”
    Eli answered, nearly breathless.
    â€œAras,” he said, “used to smoke something.”
    In the late afternoon, Aras sat alone in the open space of the basement food court. He and his dog had ended up there after yet another endless day spent roaming the halls of the District. Long polished tables and matching stools with swiveling seats were bolted to the tiled floor in orderly rows, providing a momentary oasis of quiet. He heard Pilot snuffle nearby, his chain clanking behind him.
    Ever since Esther told him that she wished to remain in the District for the foreseeable future, Aras had attempted to take refuge in these long walks. There had never been much work for him in the garden, and he couldn’t bear to be still, so he spent his days wandering the ten floors of the immense building, working his way downstairs, then back up again, then back down.
    Even so, he felt as if he was going crazy.
    Aras had never been one to ponder motives or emotional complexities. Even before the attack that had left him blind, he had lived his life based on instinct and action. Yet for thefirst time, he was being asked to deny those very impulses, the wordless, urgent voice inside him that told him again and again that he had to get out.
    He was staying for Esther; he would have done so for no other. But as the days dragged by and she spent longer and longer hours away from him and their children, questions began to nag at him: Why wouldn’t she leave with him? What was taking so long?
    And worst of all: Did her decision to stay have anything to do with Gideon?
    She and the Insurgent now spent long hours alone together, every day. When Aras and Esther had first met Gideon, neither of them liked or trusted him, yet she now spoke of him with admiration, even affection. Aras thought back to his recent visit to Gideon’s room and wondered