Page 93 of The Verdant Cage
“Welcome back,” he says loudly. “I missed you.”
The Guardian monitoring the basement stairs has been joined by another. They’re engaged in a heated game of dice, all but ignoring us.
It’s good because I can’t play along, can’t act like we’re two kids in love, can’t pretend that anything isall right or ever will be again. Gryphon dips his chin to the Head Priest, then takes me in his charge, leading us outside.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and concerned.
Our whole world is a lie.
“I’m fine.” It’s all I can manage.
“What did you see in the vault?”
I shake my head once, abruptly. I can’t bring myself to tell him.
Rather than pressure me, he rubs my back in a surprisingly tender move before drawing himself upright. The village is going about its regular business—deliveries being made, people working in their cottages—but it feels like everyone’s spying on us. Narrowed gazes, whispering lips. Gryphon leans close and throws an arm around my waist, careful to keep it just below my stitches. We’ll look affectionate to anyone watching. They won’t know he’s holding me upright.
“I’m bringing you back to our cottage,” he says, pitching his voice low so only I can hear, “but I have to tell you something first. About my father.” Gryphon takes a deep breath before admitting, “Rose, he intends to go beyond the Wall.”
If I look surprised, it’s only because I’m still reeling from what I learned inside the Record Keeper vault. “Oh?”
“I know,” Gryphon soothes. Solemn, misinterpreting. I don’t correct him. “But there’s no need to worry. I know how to stop him without anyone else getting hurt.”
“By destroying the explosives, tablet, and Harvest basket before Jarek can use them?”
He falters mid-stride, mouth dropping open like a pitcher plant. I feel a sudden and unexpected loss, knowing I’ll never view my own carnivorous rootlings the same way again.
“Yeah, Rose.” Gryphon blinks several times. “That’s actually weirdly…”
I glance at my old friend sideways, feeling an unexpected burst of pleasure amidst all the traumas. Gryphon always seems so serious, so carefully in control. I’ve grieved these normal, human moments between us. “Thanks,” I say. “I just came up with it.”
I can practically hear his gears turning. I decide to put the Guardian out of his misery. “I’m pulling your leg,” I admit, touching his arm lightly. “I already knew about your dad. And Oscar and I discussed that plan earlier.”
To my surprise, he starts chuckling, and then so do I. For a precious moment, we’re kids again.
“I missed your laugh, Rosie.”
My mouth snaps closed, my heartbeat hammering. He hasn’t called me by the familiar version of my name since before the betrothal ceremony. I want to keep the connection going between us. I’m not ready to tell him about our ancestors, but I can share this: “I think David Seingalt’s on our side.”
Gryphon’s eyes flash, sharp again. “I don’t trust a man who is more interested in collecting cans of beans than he is in fulfilling duties, but I won’t get in his way if he wants to help.” His jaw tightens. “My father must be stopped. Removing his access to the outside world is the way.”
I feel another surge of tenderness toward Gryphon. He’s in an untenable position. As much as he hates Jarek, he obviously still craves the man’s respect, if not his love. In this way, our parents brand themselves on our skin, for good or ill. We’ve almost reached the Tzu house. “I agree. And we put an end to Harvests.”
A boy from the Beekeeping House watches us from his cottage door. Is he eavesdropping? Looking for someone to turn in so he can claim his two tins of fish?
This is how Jarek continues to poison us.
Gryphon nods. “Agreed. The tablet will be easy enough for us to get to, and without it, the basket is useless. Our focus has to be destroying the explosives in the training barn.”
Something occurs to me. “We need the Record Keeper to testify to the other villagers that therewereweapons in the first place.” I think back to David’s sad face in the basement, his shame at the choices he’s made. I have to believe he’ll do the right thing when given the chance. “But we can’t wait to destroy them. If we’re going to do it, we need to get to them tonight. I—”
My sentence is cut short by Jarek charging out of his house, his face purple with rage. Instantly, Gryphon steps in front of me.
“You KNOW you’re not allowed to guard her!” Jarek grabs his son by the shirt and pins him against the cottage wall, his forearm pressed against Gryphon’s neck. It’s the exact move Gryphon recently taught us all how to escape, yet he doesn’t execute the maneuver that would free him. If Jarek had any trust left in his son, it’s gone, and still, Gryphon will not fight him.
Misia rushes out of the house at the commotion. She appears for a moment like she wants to pull Jarek off her son, but ultimately, she just stands by. Jarek has them both under his thumb, though Misia is no innocent.
“Practicing family togetherness, I see,” I say, channeling Salvatora. “Shall I go inside and make us lunch, or do none of you trust me with a knife?”
