Page 80 of The Verdant Cage
I turn down a lane, and there he is, as if my thoughts have led me to him. My heart soars. Gryphon stands in front of the Record Keeper cottage, his back to me, his hands pressed against the wall like he’s holding it up. I realize that despite my best efforts, I’m falling for those hands. Imagining them threaded through my hair, pulling me close. I shake my head.Stop it, Rose. There isn’t time for that now. The world’s on fire, and anyhow, you’re leaving Noah’s Valley soon.
“Gryphon?”
He steps away from the wall and turns, revealing…Marina Seingalt.
She opens her eyes slowly, her expression blissful. When she spots me, a devilish grin curls her mouth. “Guess we got you twice.”
It’s the betrothal ceremony day all over again.
He begged me to kiss him, you know, Marina had said. It explains why she was so desperate to know how my first night with Gryphon had gone. And Eero’s joke from the other day, too. It had rung true. I stumble backward, choking on humiliation. My heart is scorched. I fall against the Minstrel cottage.
“Rose?” Angus, the Minstrel husband, comes to the doorway. He’s holding a lyre. “Are you all right?”
Gryphon steps toward me, his expression tight—guilt?It better be—but I’m already racing to the village center.
The size of the cooking fire in front of the stage disorients me, as does the crowd gathered around it. I press my hand to the stitches at my side. Why is everyone so early? The people, the sounds, the smoke, all of it makes me lightheaded. That’s why it takes me a moment to notice who is standing on the stage.
Meryl, Sal, Oscar, and Eero.
They look terrified.
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“Make a path so she can get through!” Jarek bellows, striding to the front of the stage and pointing at me across the village square.
People step aside, just as they had for my wedding.
“Rose Allgood,” he croons, “come join your friends.”
I find myself stumbling forward. Agitated whispers slice through me, so by the time I reach the stage, I feel like I’m bleeding from a thousand tiny cuts. What’s happening?
“That’s it,” Jarek says, offering me a hand.
I refuse to touch him. I walk to the stairs, stitches tight at my side. I feel the heat from the fire, the throbbing ache of my wound. The smoking pit had been dug and started long ago enough that the great strips of meat are nearly cooked through, the creature’s skinned flesh—I’m relieved to see it looks like normal venison—brown and crackling. Were they hunting for this meal too close to the Wall when the beast attacked?
I step onto the stage, wondering what Jarek’s endgame could possibly be.
He glares at me for refusing his hand, then turns back to the crowd. He’s cleaned himself up. It’s only because I’m close that I spot the bruises and scrapes from today’s battle. I stare out into the crowd. Most of the villagers’ expressions are expectant. They’re hungry, and they’re being offered an unexpected meal. Like me, they have no idea what Jarek has in store.
“Before we begin the feast, I’m afraid I have some tragic news,” Jarek tells the village, his voice carrying.
A frantic buzz runs through the crowd.
He raises his hands. “We have a traitor among us!”
The buzzing turns to a roar. It takes several moments before Jarek gets the audience back under his control.
“That’s right,” he says. “One or more of your neighbors—or possibly even a member of your own House—has discovered a stash of food inside the Wall, left by our Founders. They’ve been keeping it for themselves while the rest of us go hungry! We don’t know where they found it, but this selfish, unholy behavior undermines our blessed Valley. We need everyone’s help in rooting out the evil in our midst.”
Shock travels like wildfire through the crowd. I cannot believe Jarek’s audacity. He’s trying to pin his crimes on an innocent! But then I recognize the genius of it. The accuser is the last one you suspect of the crime.
“How do you know?” yells a voice from the back. “What proof do you have that someone has food hidden by the Founders?”
A contingent of Guardians immediately shoves their way through the throng to locate the challenger, but Jarek stops them with a wave. “It’s a fair question,” he calls out. He reaches inside his cloak and withdraws two tins, each the size of a deck of cards.
“Behold, smoked fish! A delicacy from the Before Times.”
He holds up the tins. The blood-red and gold of the cans glitters in the firelight. The rare food must look like salvation to our hungry villagers.
