Page 5 of The Verdant Cage
But instead of parting to reveal a collapsed villager, the crowd has drawn back from my brother, who stands alone, fifty yards away. My joy at locating him immediately morphs to horror as I spot the medical utility blade in his hands, his head swiveling in alarm.
Then my spine locks.
At his feet, sprawled upon the ground, lies our mother.
In an ever-widening pool of blood.
2
I drop the roses, their claret color mirroring the pool growing beneath my mother. I can’t think, can barely breathe, but my body knows what to do. I leap forward, already deciding which supplies I’ll call for—suturing, certainly, and antiseptic, and will there be time for a painkiller?—when a grip clamps down on my arm. I’m startled to see Tomris of the Guardian House holding me, her face implacable.
“Let me go! I’m an Apothecary,” I yell. If this weren’t an emergency, I wouldn’t dare direct a Guardian, but there’s no time for hesitation. I twist, trying to pull free, but it’s no use. Tomris is a solid wall of muscle.
My gaze lurches back to Jonas. The bloodless silver blade trembles in his grip. Hand-forged, three-and-a-half inches long, the knife is one of our basic first aid supplies. He must have pulled it out to defend Mom. It falls from his hand as he drops to his knees to examine her for the source of bleeding—it’s what I would do—but two Guardians yank him to his feet before he can touch her.
“Let him treat her!” I cry. I can’t look away from the horror unfolding in front of me. Mom’s chest, every part of her, is still. What was the last thing I said to her this morning? Something short-tempered, I’m sure, something about how I didn’t mind that she wouldn’t be walking with me to my wedding. I moan.
Augustus of the Plumber House stands just behind her body, his expression stark and unreadable. I thought he and Mom were friendly. Why isn’t he doing anything? Why isn’t anyone rushing to help?
I plead with Tomris again. “Let me go!”
There’s an angry noise several feet to my left. I turn to see Gryphon, brow furrowed, also in the grip of fellow Guardians. He looks like he was trying to reach Jonas and my mother, but his comrades held him back.
“Quiet!”
The booming voice silences us all. Jarek Tzu, Gryphon’s father and head of the Council, pushes through the crowd toward my mother. On him, Gryphon’s strong nose appears beaklike, his night-colored eyes too deep-set. Still, Jarek has an undeniably commanding presence. Like a hawk among songbirds. Surely, he’ll wake us all up from this nightmare. He’s the face of the system, after all.
Jarek kneels when he reaches my mother, careful to avoid the blood, and places surprisingly gentle fingers against the side of her throat. He appears stricken as he stands, the three lines tattooed below his left eye stark against his sudden paleness. “She’s gone.”
My legs give out and I drop to the ground, the movement catching Tomris by surprise. Her hands loosen. I take advantage of that to scramble forward, reaching my mother’s side before anyone can stop me.
It’s true. Her pulse is still.
“No, no, no,” I whisper, tasting ash. This can’t be real. Her beautiful blue eyes stare half-open, the warmth already leaving them. Her chest is bloody, the darkest concentration in three distinct spots forming a rough triangle, exactly as if she’d been stabbed.But Jonas’s knife was clean. I saw it.I drag my gaze to my brother, held fast by two Guardians.
His eyes are saucers. His mouth opens and closes.
“Jonas,” I demand. “What happened?”
“Jonas Allgood has done something unspeakable!” Jarek roars, cutting off Jonas’s answer. Then he turns to the crowd, his voice slicing clean through their wildfire exclamations. “He has committed murder!”
The word hits like a physical blow.Murder. I know it only from history class, a reference to a horrible act from the Before Times. There is no murder in the Valley.
“No!” I yell as Tomris and another Guardian begin dragging me away. “Jonas would never hurt our mother! He was trying to help her!” But the villagers are already buzzing, whispers echoing like a dark wind through the red-clad crowd.
“Jonas’s knife!” I scream. “It was clean! He must have been trying to protect her.”
A number of my fellow villagers glance toward the blade, which is now swimming in a pool of blood. Was I the only one who noticed the pristine metal before it dropped?
Jonas’s face is a mask of anguish. “Rose, I didn’t mean—”
“Stop your manipulation!” Jarek commands, cutting him off again. “The entire village just witnessed you standing over your thrice-stabbed mother, holding a knife. What can this be but murder? A most unnatural act, worthy of a most unprecedented consequence.”
Eyes flit to Eden’s Gate, the basket resting against it like a threat. The word “Harvest” slithers through the crowd, soft and low, passed from tongue to tongue. First as a question, then growing in conviction.But that can’t be.The Harvest isn’t a punishment. It’s our greatest honor. I feel sick all over again. Jarek cocks his head as if to listen to the people, his expression lurching from grief to fury until he, too, looks at the basket leaning against Eden’s Gate, his jaw muscle tightening.
Cold fear licks my spine.They wouldn’t.By the Wall…what is happening?
Jarek taps his chin, a terrible mimicry of thoughtfulness as he addresses the crowd. “You think that to safeguard the whole, Jonas should act as this month’s early Harvest?” His voice carries to the farthest corners of the square. “That could be a reasonable suggestion.” He considers some more. “More than reasonable, in fact. An honor a killer hardly deserves.”
