Page 25 of The Verdant Cage
I take a sip. It’s so sweet my teeth hurt.
“You’ll want to know what we’re doing here,” she continues. “I’ll keep it simple.” She seems to be avoiding looking at Albert or Marie. “Jarek asked something from me that I was not willing to give. For my children’s safety, we were gone by morning.”
I set down my tea, hard. “So you went into hiding? Instead of pleading your case before the Record Keeper, you made us think you self-Harvested and left your community in mourning?” Even if I could understand committing a crime as severe as abandoning my duty, I can’t fathom the effort of faking a Harvest and then making a home in the caves.
Unless she was running from something more dangerous than I can imagine.
“David wouldn’t have listened to me,” she says.
“He has to!” It’s true. It’s written into our charter. The Record Keeper House must keep track of our laws and adjust them when fairness demands.
Reatha’s eyes glisten. “Does he? If Jarek convinces him otherwise? If Jarek convinces thewhole villagethat we’re guilty of some crime and ought to be sent up the Wall?”
I swallow. She knows about Jonas. Well, that confirms it. Albert came to spy on my wedding ceremony, probably sneaking into town to catch a glimpse of his beloved Marina. He knew the streets would be empty, after all. I felt bad for the kid even before his accident, always trailing Marina, doing her dirty work in exchange for bread crumbs of affection. Whereas I tried to avoid her completely, he sought her approval like roots wanted rain.
Rather than answer Reatha’s question, I ask one of my own. “So you know my brother was Harvested two days ago. You also know my mother was murdered?” I try to look at all three of them at once. “And Peter Martinez was killed just yesterday?” My voice cracks on the last word, and I realize I’m stretched thin from the violence.
Reatha drops into the nearest chair. “Albie told me of your brother and mother. I’m so, so very sorry, Rose. I didn’t know about Peter.”
She’s either an excellent dissembler or telling the truth. Marie, too. She appears ready to weep at the news. Albert, however, only goes to the sink to wash his hands. I cannot see his face, nor do I know how to interpret his behavior.
I rub my arms, trying to return to my body. The cave is surprisingly clean and cozy, the faint sulfuric smell of cold rock the only indication we’re surrounded by limestone.
“This place has been here forever,” Reatha says, watching me. She’s still ashen as she spreads her arms to indicate the space. The Chemist House symbol is visible on the inside of her left wrist: a perfect circle with another half circle on its top and a cross on its bottom. “A group of us have been outfitting it for years. We used to meet up here.”
“Who?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. They’re gone, and Albie, Marie, and I live here now.”
My head’s spinning with everything I’ve learned. I focus on the practical. “How’d you get everybody to believe you went Beyond?”
Albert turns off the faucet. The cave even has running water. Is it also the result of his tinkering? “It wasn’t hard,” he says. “Most folks can’t imagine willingly abandoning Noah’s Valley. All we had to do was leave a note and the tablet—which Marie managed to borrow from right beneath David Seingalt’s nose—in front of the basket and disappear.”
The reason the Record Keeper is no longer allowed to store the tablet.
Marie smiles proudly from her seat on the couch, revealing two perfect dimples. “I’m little, and I’m quick,” she says. “Means I’m a good sneaker.”
I try to smile back, but the world feels shaky.
“Please,” Reatha pleads. “You must keep our secret. You must not tell anyone that we’re alive inside the Wall.”
That’s an easy one. Who do I have left to tell? Even if I did trust Misia, Jarek, or the rest of the Council, I wouldn’t turn on the Chemists, not unless I was sure they’d done harm. I won’t sacrifice them to the same system that Harvested Jonas.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” I say. I think of the materials needed to modify Albert’s chair, all their books, the loaf of bread under glass on the table. “Who else knows you’re here?”
A clomping outside the dwelling draws our attention, the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps across stone.
“You’re about to find out,” Albert says, his smile sly.
He propels his chair forward, exiting the living space before Reatha can stop him. I find myself following. I don’t know who’s waiting for me on the other side of the doorway, but whoever it is, I’d prefer not to be trapped inside a stone prison as I face them. I’m positive, at least, that they’ll be better than the forest monsters I’ve imagined.
When I reach the outer cave, I realize how very wrong I am.
18
Gryphon stands in the cave’s mouth, a deer carcass slung over his shoulder, his strong arms holding it in place. He scowls when he spots me. Eero is positioned behind him, along with Oscar of the Tailor House, Meryl of the Entertainer House, and Salvatora of the Cobblers. The first three appear slightly ashamed, as though they’ve been caught with their hands in the honey jar.
Salvatora, however, is staring knives at me.
