Page 81 of The Verdant Cage
“We discovered these cans on a patrol of the interior perimeter, this and more, many of them empty because the traitor has been eating them. We’re keeping the contraband locked away for everyone’s safety. However,” he says, pausing for effect, “the Council has agreed to offer these two tins as a reward to whoever turns in the traitor.”
A surge presses those nearest the stage into the wood, squeezing the breath from them as the crowd clambers forward for a closer look.
“Stand back!” I yell. “You’re hurting those up front!”
But the villagers don’t still until Jarek tucks the food back inside his cloak. “Our discovery of a traitor—along with another wild animal attack just today that cost us two Guardian lives—comes with a necessary rule change.”
The crowd collectively gasps at this terrible pronouncement.Two Guardians dead.
“Between increased attacks and a traitor among us, the curfew will be pushed up for obvious reasons,” Jarek continues. “After tonight’s feast, no one is allowed outside of their home after the sun is set, except to attend duties approved by the Guardians. The sooner the traitor is rooted out, the sooner we can begin to return to our normal lives.” He gives the side of his cloak holding the tins a shake. Those of us nearby can hear them clink together.
We’re weak if we’re divided. Jarek knows this. He’s created hunger and inequality, and now he’s playing on them to turn us against each other rather than question him. I glance in desperation at my friends. They’re clinging tight to one another, Oscar on one end and Sal on the other, Eero and Meryl in the middle. Sal holds out her hand for me. I hurry over to grip it, feeling a surge of warmth as she squeezes me back.
“Why are we up here?” I whisper.
She shakes her head. “They dragged us from our homes.”
I’m surprised to feel Salvatora shaking, but then I look down and realize it’s Eero, on her other side, who’s trembling, his shudders so strong that they’re being passed down the line.
“But we have more than one problem in our midst,” Jarek calls, directing the crowd’s attention to the five of us at last. “Feast your eyes upon these criminals.”
I hear a shout of anger from the crowd. Jarek’s use of the slur has pierced at least one villager’s stupor. We don’t have “criminals” in Noah’s Valley. We havepeople, even when they’ve done something wrong.
Jarek shakes his head and makes a mollifying gesture. “Now, now, I know it’s a harsh term, but these five have been stealing time from the Valley, as well as thieving knowledge from a House not their own!”
The crowd shifts. I scan them, looking for friendly eyes. I mostly spy an unsettling hunger. I’ve been eating my fill at the Tzu cottage; these people clearly have not.
“You’ve heard correctly!” Jarek declares. “They’ve been learning to fight!”
“No!” someone yells from the back of the mob, for that’s what he’s turning them into, their fear and anxiety finding a focal point in us. They’re hungry from a diet of porridge, anxious from the uncertainty of rolling Harvests, and scared because he’s telling them wild animals are picking us off.
Oscar grimaces, and I can tell he and I have come to the same conclusion: Jarek is giving the village a common enemy. Us.
“Yes,” Jarek says, dropping his voice like he can hardly bear to utter the travesty. “Fighting. You’ll want to ask yourself what they intended to do with their new skill. Nothing honest, I can promise you that.”
“Beat them!” someone yells.
Eero’s legs buckle, but Meryl props him up on one side and Sal the other. He’s nearly a full head shorter than the girls, still waiting on his teenage growth spurt.
Jarek shakes his head, as if the five of us breaking the law pains him so deeply that he’s only able to speak at great personal expense. “That may be the answer, but I cannot make a decision without consulting the Record Keeper and my Council. We are a people of rules, remember. A fair people. They will be kept in the chapel undercroft until we decide on a fitting punishment. Guardians, take them away.”
Eero makes a squeaking noise before diving off the stage. Seeking the comfort of his family? I often forget his age on account of his friendship with my brother, but at just fourteen, Eero’s little more than a boy. Jarek rolls his eyes at the fruitless escape attempt and flicks his wrist at Leonidas, indicating he should retrieve him. The crowd’s roar is reaching a crescendo. I can’t tell if they’re calling for our blood or arguing with Jarek. Possibly both.
He doesn’t seem concerned, his smile placid.
Where’s Gryphon? Shouldn’t he be on stage with us? Does he care so little for me that he stayed behind with Marina?That weed-hearted sneak.
“Silence!” Jarek calls, but the villagers aren’t listening. They’re talking excitedly among themselves, crowding the stage, making it shift and creak. Jarek’s face finally tightens.
I scan the mob, searching for Eero. He’ll be trampled in this madness. I spot him as he darts behind the stage, running toward Eden’s Gate. He’s easy to pick out, skirting the edge of the square in a desperate bid for escape. Leonidas trails him, going too near the Wall if his anxious glances at it are any indication.
Holy Sun and Soil,I realize.Keeping twenty feet from the Wall was never about deference, was it?Thatnorm exists so none of us trigger the beast.
That means the herbicide wasn’t hypothetical, either. Whoever gave us our religion knew about the threat. It must be what sent our Founders into the Valley to begin with: a beast the likes of which our stories do not tell.Oh, Jonas.I picture him up there, surrounded by hungry green vines.
I shove the distraction into my ever-growing cabinet of betrayals, forcing my attention back to the present, waiting for Leonidas to bring Eero back. He’s gaining on him, though Eero must not notice because his pace never changes. I spot the other Carpenters on the opposite side of the stage. How difficult it will be for them to witness their son punished. But we must take our beating. There’s no escaping it.
Leo has nearly caught up now. Rather than grab Eero, though, Leonidas raises his weapon, a bo staff just like the one we’ve been training with.Oh no!He means to strike the boy down. I step toward the edge of the stage, a cry on my lips.
