Page 49 of The Verdant Cage
“Salvatora,” Meryl says. Her voice is firm. “That’s not Rose’s fault and you know it.”
“But it’s people like her who make it possible!” Sal yells. She pitches her voice into a singsong and swivels her head mockingly, uttering the morning pledge that every student says at the start of the school day, but that I always said the loudest. “Protect the system and it shields us all, follow the rules so we never fall.” She spits onto the ground. “Meanwhile, I no longer have a gran, I’m stuck with a fiancé I’ll never love and required to do a job I hate, all because we’re trapped in rotten Noah’s Valley.”
Trapped? There might be danger in here, but there’s far worse out there. We’d be dead without the Wall! What I wouldn’t give to have Jonas safely back inside with the rest of us. I open my mouth to argue, but before I can say a word, Sal’s on me. She swings the bo staff for my shins and gets a good thwack in. I jump back, biting my tongue to keep from crying out. I find my stance quickly, but not in time to block her shoulder strike.
I look to Gryphon for help.
He’s holding the others back. He means for Sal and me to fight this out.
Some teacher. I duck and pivot just in time to dodge her swing for my head. She’s coming for blood. I shove my staff between her ankles and pull to the left, forcing her legs to fight each other for balance. She drops to the ground.
I turn, offering her a hand. “I’m sorry.”
I’m surprised to feel wetness on my face. Am I crying? Her strikes left an awful, stinging ache, but it’s more than that. Sal’s hurting in a way that can’t be healed, and she believes I’ve helped cause it.
Rather than accept my hand, she leaps to her feet and shoves the butt of her staff into my stomach. I grunt and double over.
“Sorry?” she says. “The laws you uphold make my life meaningless, and you’resorry?”
She swings again. My staff flies up to block it. The crack of wood meeting wood echoes through the trees. My arms vibrate with the force.
“Yes,” I say. We’re both panting from the fight. “I had no idea.”
I try to sweep her legs out from under her, but she jumps, imitating a game we used to play as children. Her feet come down at the same time as her weapon, narrowly missing my ear.
“Those of you who aren’t waking up are keeping the rest of us in the dark,” Sal spits. “The old rules don’t work anymore, and maybe they never did, but because of ignorant kiss-asses like you, we’re going to live and die in here like trapped sheep.”
Suddenly, my anger scorches to life, the heat of it like pleasure and pain dancing through my veins. It messes with my eyes, turning everything overbright. I’m coming at her, swinging my staff. “Yeah, I followed the rules. What else was I supposed to do? I’m just one person.” Sal falls backward, and I leap on top of her, my weapon poised. “I didn’t know there was anything elsetodo.I didn’t know.”
Her staff swings around, hurtling toward my throat with startling speed. I lift my own to block it in a move I know could break her wrist, but it’s that or feel my trachea crushed.
Iron hands stop our weapons just before they connect.
It’s Gryphon. I gawk at him, my breath heaving.
Oscar, Meryl, Eero, and Marie are staring at us, slack jawed.
“Enough,” he says.
I hate the pity in his expression. Pity for the both of us, it appears.
“You should’ve paid attention,” Sal mutters. She still sounds angry, but also a little scared.
I stare around the circle at the faces of people my age who for weeks if not months have been jeopardizing their safety to train here. It feels unfair, but I know Sal’s right. I should have paid attention much, much earlier than I did.
“I’m sorry,” I say, meeting each of their gazes in turn, just like I did when I vowed to keep their secret safe. “I’ve been a coward.” I won’t explain why I behaved as I did. There was a point when the Harvests started ramping up where I should have spoken out, but instead I kept my mouth shut and followed the herd. “Sal’s right. I’ve kept my head in the sand.”
“Aw, Rose, you’re not gonna tell her?” Eero asks.
We all turn to look at him. He’s wincing, like it pains him to speak.
“Tell her what?” I ask.
He glances quickly at Sal, then back at the ground. “Jonas made me swear not to share, but you’re being so stubborn right now.”
I want to shake him. “Share what?” I ask.
He points at Sal. “Share that you’ve been treating people like her gran. That you’re willing to risk being whipped to care for our elderly, even though it’s illegal.” He drops his hand. “Jonas and I saw you sneaking into the back door of the Forester cottage to treat Matthias’s infected wound when his family had already been told to prepare for his funeral. Jonas said you were doing the same for all the elderly and made me promise never to spill, but you should at least tell Sal, so sheknows you didn’t just let her gran die.”
