by Bobby Adair
Franklin looked at her. “Outside, you said you had another plan. Were you just trying to lure me back here?”
“At the time,” Fitz said with a sigh, looking out the window. “But while we were talking, I had an idea. I thought of another way we can get to The People.”
“Something we haven’t thought of before?” Franklin’s expression showed his disbelief.
Fitz took a moment to formulate her thoughts. “What did Tenbrook’s soldiers tell The People before the sermon?”
“They should tend to their work instead of going to the Sanctuary.”
“They’re discouraged from going to mass,” Fitz repeated.
“Yes. Exactly.”
“What if we were to hold mass somewhere other than the Sanctuary?” Fitz smiled, the idea becoming clearer as she spoke. “Why not deliver the message to them in the fields, instead of the Sanctuary? That way they’ll be able to do their work, but they’ll be able to listen.”
Franklin opened his mouth, as if he might find fault with the suggestion. He couldn’t. After a moment, he said, “You know what, Fitz? That might work. That won’t break Tenbrook’s guideline. At least, not technically,” Franklin said, his hope rising.
“Winthrop would hate that idea.” Fitz smiled at the irony.
Franklin sprang for his notes. “We’ll start with one of the smaller farms near the Sanctuary. We can test it there.”
“Great idea.”
“If we hurry, we might be able to round up a few clergymen while we have daylight. I don’t want to waste any more time. Come on, Fitz.”
Chapter 28: Ella
Ella walked behind William into one of the smaller rooms. It looked like he was trying to get ahead of her, though she couldn’t tell for sure. Through cracks in various walls, she saw Bray, Melora, and Ivory exploring a different room. They were chatting in low tones as they pointed at the ceiling.
“William, wait up!” Ella hissed.
The floor was uneven with lumps of dirt, as though animals had called it their home at one time. Thankfully, she didn’t see anything now. Ella stepped around the mounds, afraid that she might twist an ankle as she kept close to William. William stopped and examined a hole in the center of a mound of dirt.
“Be careful,” she warned. “You never know what type of animal might spring out of there.”
William stepped back, shooting her a glance she couldn’t interpret. “Whatever it is, we’re bigger than it,” he said, patting his sword. “I can take care of it.”
“I’m sure you can,” Ella said, not wanting to argue.
“I can take care of a lot of things.” William looked back down at the hole.
“What’s wrong, William?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said quietly.
“Are you still upset about what you saw between me and Bray?” Ella said, taking a guess.
William heaved a loud sigh. “He’d better not try it again. If he does, I’ll take care of him, too.”
“William,” Ella said, reaching for his arm. “I should’ve talked to you earlier. I apologize for not doing that.”
William went silent. He stared at the hole in the dirt.
“I already talked to Melora,” Ella said, “I know you told her. She was concerned. I told her that she doesn’t have to worry. I don’t want you to worry, either, William.”
“I’m not worried. I’m just watching him. That’s all.”
William stood rigidly, his hands at his sides. Ella chewed her lip as she tried to think of another approach. She let the silence hang before continuing. “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day, about you taking care of yourself.”
William’s eyes wandered upward as he prepared an argument.
She disarmed him with a smile. “I think you’re right. I think you’re growing up. You’re turning into a young man, just like you said.”
“You really think so?” William asked in surprise.
“Yes, I do. Ever since we left Brighton, you’ve grown up so much. The way you helped us track and find Melora was unbelievable. You’re getting so smart. And you’ve never complained, even though things are a lot harder here than in Brighton.” William’s body seemed to relax, and she saw a puff of pride in his small shoulders. “I think you’re old enough that you can understand what you saw. That’s why I want you to believe me that Bray wasn’t bothering me.”
“But I saw what he did to you.”
“I didn’t mind,” Ella assured him. “I need you to believe that.”
“You didn’t mind?” William’s face turned confused. “But you whispered for him to leave you alone.”
“I didn’t say that,” Ella said, shaking her head. “Maybe you misheard me. I told him we’d talk later. What I really should’ve done is gone inside and talked to you instead.”
William went quiet again, torn between several emotions.
“I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you about it earlier, William,” Ella said. “That was my fault.”
William stood quietly, and she tried to gauge whether her words were getting through to him.
“Will you forgive me?” she asked.
William shrugged noncommittally. The crunch of a footstep distracted them. Ivory was walking over to the room’s entrance, the bow in his hand.
“Do you want to try it now?” Ivory called through the mostly broken doorway.
“Yes!” William said, distracted. Before Ella could stop William, he ran ahead of her again.
**
“I was thinking we can shoot at one of the walls,” Ivory said, pointing to a distant room in the ancient marketplace that seemed intact.
“The walls will muffle the echo,” Bray agreed.
“I’ll keep watch on the door. You go first, William,” Ella said.
William, Melora, Bray, and Ivory went to the room. Ella hung at the building’s front entrance, splitting her attention between the massive room and Bray and her children huddled around Ivory. Ivory unslung his bag and placed it on the ground. He pulled out an arrow.
Ella was still uncertain about Ivory. It was strange, the way he knew so much about the Ancient City. And was it too convenient, the way he’d met Melora? What if he’d been following them?
She still wasn’t positive what his motivations were. One of these mornings, she wouldn’t be surprised to wake up and find him gone. I’ll keep an eye on him, she thought. I won’t make the same mistake I made with Bray in the beginning.
When she looked back at Ivory, she noticed that he had dropped an arrow. He reached down to scoop it up.
William crouched down to retrieve it. “I’ve got it!”
Ella was so caught up in her thoughts that she almost didn’t notice William’s shirt sagging, revealing the hard knot on his neck. Ivory’s eyes flicked to William’s lump. His face changed. Ella opened her mouth, as if she might shout a warning, even though she was too late.
Ivory had discovered William’s secret.
Chapter 29: Oliver
Oliver wasn’t sure that hiking up the beach was the best idea, but he’d rationalized it anyway, and Beck did little to dissuade him. On the beach, they were able to walk on flat ground without the risk of all the hazards that seemed to be in the ruins nearby, making the ground sometimes too rough to safely cross.
What’s more, they were able to see far up and down the beach, so there was no risk they’d stumble on demons without seeing them first. There might be some in the dunes, but they hadn’t seen one, nor had they seen any since coming down to the water. Beck speculated that perhaps demons stayed away from the ocean for some reason.
“I meant to ask you,” said Oliver, “when we were talking about the round earth, you said the Academy has an archive. You said you had countless items in yo
ur archive. What sorts of things do you have?”
“Plastic, mostly,” said Beck. “Do you know what plastic is?”
“I used to have a piece before my parents were burned,” said Oliver. “Lots of kids do.”
“Most of our pieces were given to us by children who found them or who had received them as gifts. When children get older and realize the plastic is worthless, they often donate the pieces to the Academy.”
“They’re worthless?” Oliver asked.
“Collectors don’t want them,” said Beck. “Kids collect them because they’re unusual, but there’s too many of them around. Farmers find pieces in the field all the time. Hunters come across pieces in the forest sometimes. Even smugglers bring in pieces after they’ve pried the bits of metal out.”
“The metal?”
“They find inexplicable things made of a combination of different kinds of plastics and different kinds of metals.”
“I didn’t know that,” said Oliver.
“Most people don’t.”
After walking for a while longer, Oliver asked, “What is plastic? Where does it come from?”
“The Ancients, of course.”
“I know that,” said Oliver. “But what’s it made from? Is it from a kind of plant that doesn’t grow anymore?”
“That’s a mystery,” said Beck. “Nobody knows.”
“Why do you archive them?” asked Oliver.
“The words,” said Beck. “Many pieces have words on them, sometimes in a different color than the plastic, sometimes scratched in. It’s not uncommon. You’ve probably seen bits yourself that have words.”
Oliver nodded. “I never thought of it as important.”
“I don’t know if it is,” said Beck. “But it’s unusual, you have to admit that, right?”
“Sure,” said Oliver, though he wasn’t sure if he agreed.
“I think it has to be one of two things,” said Beck. “Either the words on the plastic are important, although no one at the Academy has any clue why, or the writing is of no importance whatsoever. In the absence of context, the words make no sense. In truth, the context would probably make no sense, either. Or, the Ancients wrote trivial things because it was easy for them to do so, and perhaps everybody could read.”
Oliver laughed. “Everybody could read? I only know a handful of people who can.”
“As I said, both possibilities seem unlikely.”
Chapter 30: Franklin
“All true things come from the gods. The Word is true. We hold The Word close, in hopes that our hard hearts accept the things we must suffer,” Franklin called, throwing his voice over the wind and into the field. “We toil hard for our families, just as we work hard for Brighton and for each other. That is the true purpose of The Word: to be a community. To help one another.”
A group of women, old men, and children grunted as they salvaged the last of their crops in the field. Franklin balanced on the bumpy, frost-burnt soil as he read through his notes. The farmers collected fruits and vegetables, cocking their heads every so often to listen. Franklin watched them as they tucked the produce into their baskets.
At first, the farmers were confused, even a little nervous at having an Elder among them. But after he’d started speaking, they’d fallen into their normal routines, glancing at him less and repeating their catechisms. The children were the first to lose their fear. In between helping their family, they gazed at the clergymen, hope flickering in their eyes.
It was Franklin’s intention to capture that hope.
If things went well, he’d move to the next farm. Then the next.
Franklin would reach The People, one frigid field at a time.
He changed his notes from one hand to the other, trying to warm up his fingers. He was cold, but the fact that he’d skirted Tenbrook’s law filled him with warmth he hadn’t felt since before the burnings.
I’m getting through to them. This is working.
He looked over at Fitz, who was standing next to him. Novice Joseph and several other clergymen were at her side, heads bowed. They shuffled nervously from one foot to the other, not yet used to the cold or the idea of preaching outside the Sanctuary.
This was new for all of them.
“Our toil is what brings us together,” Franklin continued. “We should not only share the triumphs, but the difficult times, as well. We work together so that we might rejoice together.”
“So sayeth The Word,” one of the women said over the wind.
The farmers seemed to work harder as they listened to Franklin’s words. He felt a swell of pride. If Winthrop had been here, he would’ve scoffed at standing next to the pig chasers and dirt scratchers. But standing in the field, Franklin felt a sense of unity with these women, old men, and children that he hadn’t found in the Sanctuary. Maybe I’m not so different from the people in Brighton, after all. He continued his sermon as the sun sank lower in the sky. When it was dark enough that he could barely read, he concluded with a passage from his reference books.
“And Lady looked over the laborers and the children, who were tired after a long day of harvesting, and said, ‘One day you will look on your children, and your children’s children, and you will realize the miracle of what we’ve built. The soil will grow richer with each year of crops. The sustenance we reap today will feed all of us for years to come. We will rejoice in what we have built: a town made of a piece of each of us. A town called Brighton.” Satisfied, Franklin lowered his notes and finished his sermon. He watched as a few of the people broke from their work.
“Can we approach, Father?” asked a heavyset woman, with tanned skin and a red face.
“Yes, please do,” Franklin said.
“We appreciate you coming out here, Father Franklin,” said the woman. “We were disappointed that we couldn’t attend the sermon earlier. But the soldiers…” the woman waved her hands and her voice trailed off.
“I understand.”
An old man with white hair sidled up next to her. “It was nice to have some faith to do our work with,” he added, with a smile that seemed genuine.
Franklin smiled back and waved at the children, who were skipping away over the field, rounding up baskets and tools, waiting for their relatives. Several other farmers—probably aunts, cousins, and grandparents—were herding them back to the house.
The heavyset woman gestured to another field next door. “Tomorrow you can speak to Henrietta and her clan, if you want. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it, just as we have.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Franklin said. “May The Word be with you.”
“And with you, Father.”
The woman and the old man bade him farewell as Franklin started back up the road with Fitz, Joseph, and his clergymen in tow. Looking over at his companions, he saw a purpose in their stride that he’d never seen in the halls of the Sanctuary.
Chapter 31: Ella
Ella clung to William as they headed back to the ancient building where they were staying. She watched Ivory, but he didn’t give any clue that anything was wrong.
Maybe he didn’t see it, Ella told herself.
But she knew that wasn’t true.
Try as she might, she couldn’t convince herself that Ivory hadn’t uncovered William’s secret. Ivory smiled and chatted with Bray and Melora, as if he hadn’t seen anything alarming. He wasn’t acting any differently. But why would he?
Why would he do anything that gave him away?
She recalled the moment his expression had changed. That was the moment she’d seen her son dying under someone’s fearful blade or bow.
She knew William was sick. She knew what the spores would lead to. But that decision was hers to make.
Not Ivory’s. Not Brighton’s.
Hers.<
br />
What if Ivory pieced together the reasons they had fled? What if he told the soldiers where they were? Anything was possible. She’d seen the fear that lived in Brighton, and Ivory was part of that fear.
“Mom, are you listening?” William asked, looking up at her. “I’m telling you about the bow.”
“I am. I saw how good you did!” she said, afraid he might hear the crack in her voice.
Swallowing her panic, she kept William close, as if Ivory might turn and attack him in the middle of the street. She knew they shouldn’t have been so quick to accept Ivory.
She should have trusted her intuition.
She needed to talk to Bray. She needed to figure out what to do. Whether it meant running, talking, or something else, she’d make whatever decision was needed to protect her family.
Chapter 32: Ivory
Ivory kept his discovery quiet as he walked back to the ancient museum with Melora, Bray, William, and Ella. He didn’t want to alarm them. He’d seen the hard, calcified knot on the back of William’s neck.
He didn’t care.
He’d seen enough knots on Jingo to know what one looked like, and they didn’t always lead to violence. At least, not right away. From what Jingo had told him, the spore took effect at different rates in different people. Ivory suspected it might take a while for the boy to fully turn. The boy seemed strange, sure, but then a lot of people did. It was hard to tell how much of that was related to the spore.
The family had obviously been through a lot. That was bound to have an effect on him.
That simple discovery explained a lot. Ivory recalled the cautious looks Ella had given him and Melora’s strange worry when she talked about her family. Any mother would be cautious when meeting a stranger in the wild, and so would a sister with a secret to hide.
