Page 6 of The Verdant Cage
Every cell in my body is screaming. I stare around in wild hope. These people know and love Jonas. He’s one of the town clowns, a boy of good cheer, and he’s an Apothecary. Of course he’d run to help an injured person. But to my horror, instead of speaking up, Valley citizens begin to turn their backs. One by one, they face away and kneel, every villager but those of the Priest House. They alone remain standing, eyes pinned on Jarek.
My bones turn to water. When everyone else is looking away—even Aunt Florence and Uncle Richard have their backs to us, their necks white with shock—Jarek nods curtly. “The village has spoken.” He turns to my brother. “Your people have chosen to favor you despite your actions.” He flicks his hand at his son. “Man the Harvest basket.”
Whatever fight momentarily animated Gryphon has vanished. He moves woodenly, turning toward the Wall like a puppet on strings. Jarek strides to the stage, the place I was supposed to be exchanging vows with Gryphon at this very moment. He climbs onto it. Once he towers over us all, he signals a Guardian to lead Jonas to the basket and another to haul me before him.
My sweet brother stumbles toward his fate with his shoulders squared and chin lifted, a lamb dressed as a lion. Something is building in my throat, clawing to escape. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.
“May the Wall protect us,” Jarek declares, beaming down at me. There’s something predatory in his eyes. “You look so much like your mother, you know,” he says, as if he and I are alone rather than standing in front of the entire village, my mom freshly murdered, my brother about to ascend to the Heavens. “I’m so grateful you were selected for my House.”
My twin. My sibling. He of the crooked smile and duck-fuzz hair, so friendly that he was elected May Day prince every school year from kindergarten on, and not a single boy could find it in himself to be jealous. My best friend—my only friend, really—and the kindest human I know.
He’s about to be Harvested.
The worrying, the rule-following. It wasn’t enough.
“No!” I croak. The awfulness of it scrapes my veins, turning everything orange and raw. “Jonas is my brother,” I say to Jarek upon the stage. My voice cracks, but it carries. “We’re Apothecaries.”
Jarek knows this, of course he knows this, but I can’t stop speaking even though my brain is slippery with terror. “We cannot be chosen for Harvest. My—” I start to say “my mother” and choke it down. “I’m sorry, but all Apothecaries are exempt. As much of an honor as it is, the needs of treating another potential outbreak require our exclusion. You can find a different way to punish Jonas, can’t you?” I know my twin didn’t kill our mother, but I’ll say anything to keep his feet on the ground, even if that means invoking the very whipping posts I was recently keen to save him from. Once everyone’s calmed down, we’ll figure out what really happened.
Jarek tips his head and beaks out his lips, the picture of sympathy. “You should be grateful your community has shown Jonas such compassion. Murder surely overrides your House’s Harvest exemption,” he says. “And in any case, the Council has recently updated that directive. Our food shortage demands it.”
An icy wave of powerlessness threatens to drown me.But those were the rules. They can’t be changed at the drop of a hat.
Then something unexpected happens.
I feel a snap inside, and a burst of hot rage blooms in my chest.
I want to hurt Jarek. Obedient, quiet Rose wants to rip out his throat.
No. That’s not me. With the exception of smuggling medicine to the elderly, I always do what I’m told.I try to push down the fury, but it won’t budge.
Jarek continues unaware. “Gryphon, guide Jonas to his ultimate sacrifice, won’t you?”
Gryphon’s exquisite face is a tight mask. His arms flex, and I have the wild hope that he’ll refuse, that he’ll reveal this as a cruel prank, a leftover from our childhood days, back when he and I used to be inseparable. But instead, he glides forward with the grace of a mountain lion. He takes Jonas from his handlers and begins to guide him toward the Wall.
They’ve almost reached the basket when Jonas breaks free of Gryphon’s grasp. Jarek cries out in rage as my brother races toward me, slipping between the other Guardians.
“Rose,” he whispers when he reaches my side. The whites of his eyes are visible all around his pupils. He smells of iron and fear as he embraces me, speaking close to my ear. “I didn’t kill her. You’ll find the truth in the Record Keeper cottage. Go to the vault. But protect yourself, Rose. Let no one see you there.”
I sob and cling to him. Protect myself? All I’ve ever wanted was to keep him safe. Too soon, Gryphon wrenches him from me, and the hatred I had for Jarek finds a new home. I will never forgive Gryphon for leading my brother to his death.
“Remember, we’re not what we seem!” Jonas cries.
The air feels liquid, everything around me moving too quickly and too slowly all at once. I rush forward, but strong arms circle my waist. If only I’d been better. More obedient. If I’d never snuck medication to the aged—
I look to the villagers for help. “This is not the law!” I yell.
Simon, who Jonas said allowed him into the vault this morning, is as white as whey. He melts into the crowd. His father, David, stares toward the cast on his newly broken foot, a tear trickling down his cheek.
Not one person will meet my eyes.
Desperate, I launch myself toward Eden’s Gate, but new hands have latched onto me. They belong to Leonidas Khan, a Guardian and Gryphon’s closest friend. I could sooner break free from the grave. Still, I twist and snarl, biting at his hands.
They don’t loosen.
“Jackrabbit!” I wail.Please, if there’s any prayer left to say—
Gryphon and Jonas reach the Harvest basket. For the first time in my memory, Guardians stand on either side of the welded metal cage with their swords at the ready.
