The woman opens her mouth to speak. She isn’t wearing lipstick, even though she seems like a lipstick kind of girl. “I know this is a frustrating time, but trust me when I say we, all of us, have been in a similar position.” She touches a hand to her hip bone. “You’re angry. You have questions. And right now you’d probably like nothing better than to kill every last one of us.” She sighs. “Trust me, I felt the same way. But, in time, you’ll understand our reasoning for the Brimstone Bleed and all the challenges it entailed. For now all I ask, with complete respect as to what you’ve been through, is that you follow me.”
Cotton gathers Harper into his arms.
“Wait,” I tell him.
He looks at me, and when he does, I understand he’s still with us, still a Contender and nothing more. Cotton has played his part of empathizer well, but I see the rage lying beneath it, hidden from the woman but not from me. He wants to destroy these people every bit as much as I do. So I say, “I’ll help you carry Harper.”
“No, you’re hurt,” he responds. “I’ve got her.”
Olivia glances at me, and when I motion toward the door, she gets to her feet and follows after Cotton. We’ve come this far, why not a bit farther? Once it’s clear Olivia won’t stay behind and that Braun is getting up as well, I allow Guy to lead me into the hallway. The woman turns around.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says to Braun. “I’ll need you to stay in the waiting room. The doctor will be out to check on you in a few minutes.”
“He stays with us,” I snarl.
Her head falls to the side with mock sympathy. “Not anymore. We have a special message for the first five Contenders who finish the race, and unfortunately, he is number six.”
I do a quick count, and when I realize she’s right, I turn to Braun.
“It’s okay,” he says. “It doesn’t matter now.”
I let go of Guy’s hand and throw myself at Braun. “I can’t do this without you,” I whisper in his ear.
He buries his head into my shoulder. “You can do anything without me.”
Braun releases me and walks away.
“Braun,” Olivia says. “Braun!”
He never turns around, and when the door slams behind him, no one speaks another word. Cotton appears almost guilty, holding Harper, and that’s when a new, gut-wrenching thought occurs to me.
I wasn’t first.
My brother won’t receive the Cure.
Guy senses the moment I come to this realization, and he’s there, wrapping his arm around my waist, telling me to keep walking, to stay awake, to stay focused. But my mind threatens to turn off anyway as the woman leads us into a room with five clean cots. As the doctor gives me pain medication and stitches up my wounds. As a new person, one I’ve never met but who seems unnervingly familiar, enters the room and delivers five crisp green envelopes. She stares at the feather in my hair as if it’s the most remarkable thing she’s ever seen.
My rational thought is gone.
Good riddance.
When Guy Chambers crawls into my cot, though, against the nurses’ advisement, I snap to attention. “You’re here,” I say through the drug’s fog.
“Always,” he responds.
And then he does something that brings me back. He opens my palm beneath the white sheet and presses the back of my hand into the mattress. Then he uses his pointer finger to trace letters into my palm, swiping his hand across mine to clear the slate between each word.
Here are the letters he uses:
I (swipe) L-O-V-E (swipe) Y-O-U
My head falls back on the pillow, because, once again, he has saved me. I’ve learned to be strong, but I don’t know where my Pandoras are — the ones I wasn’t forced to kill — and my brother is going to die. With Guy here next to me, I remember myself. I remember why I’m here, and that this isn’t just about me and Cody anymore. It’s about everyone who has ever endured what we have. It’s about retribution for past Contenders and Pandoras, and protection for future ones.
Madox and Monster and Oz dance across my mind — the way I remember them before they were forced to attack — and I know what I will do. I’ll put a smile on my face and pretend I’m buying their crap. Aren’t I a model employee? Haven’t I embraced the Brimstone Bleed with impressive enthusiasm? And in the end, with Guy, Harper, Olivia, and Cotton by my side, I’ll take down this entire establishment. I will never let go of my anger. I will never forget the things they made us do.
I’ll find a way to save Cody yet.
I’ll keep fighting.
Always.
I open Guy’s hand and press it to the mattress. Using my finger, I trace letters upon his palm.
M-E (swipe) T-O-O
Ask any author, and most will tell you that writing a sequel is one of the more challenging books to tackle. But with the following people in my corner, I had nothing but fun while drafting Salt & Stone.
First, a big thank-you to the entire Scholastic team. To my editor, Erin Black, to whom this book is dedicated. To my designer, Nina Goffi, you are wicked talented like whoa. To Rachael Hicks and Esther Lin, who totally caught “swoosh” versus “swish.” I’m not worthy. And to Scholastic Press director, David Levithan, because you take the time to make all your authors feel appreciated.
To Emily Heddleson, who hooks me up with itineraries detailed enough to make an accountant weep with joy, and to Emily Morrow, who has one of the best marketing minds, ever. To my publicist, Emma Brockway, who rocks my books and my world. To everyone who has a hand in sales, thank you, thank you. Last but not least, a huge thanks to the foreign rights team at Scholastic. Did you seriously sell my books to that many countries? Seriously? This is me, bowing down.
A hearty thank-you to Agent Laurie McLean, because without you, there’d be no Tella, Guy, or Madox. And to my assistant, Jessica Baker, for freeing me up so I could, you know, write. Hugs to author friends whose enthusiasm for Fire & Flood kept me motivated while penning the sequel — Heather Anastasiu, Kendare Blake, Kay Honeyman, Jodi Meadows, Page Morgan, and Wendy Higgins.
Thank you to the V Mafia, my loyal street team, and to all readers, bloggers, librarians, and teachers who support my work. What would I do without you? To my family on both sides — especially my mom and sister, who read all my books before they release — you guys rock. And this time, to my niece, Faith, who texted me from her mom’s phone to ask if she could be a beta reader for Salt & Stone.
To my husband, Ryan, thank you is not enough. When I think about everything you’ve done to help turn my writing into a career, I fall even more in love with you. Even now, as I write this, I can’t keep the tears from my eyes. My perfect day will always and forever be one spent with you.
Finally, to the secret I’ve held for months — I adore you already. I may not have always known you’d be a part of my life, but now that you are, I can’t imagine a world without you. I’ve got one hand on my belly as I write these acknowledgments, little girl. Keep on kicking like you mean it.
Victoria Scott is the author of Fire & Flood and the Dante Walker series. She lives in Dallas with her husband and is currently working on her next novel. Victoria adores getting to know her readers. Visit her online at www.VictoriaScottYA.com.
Copyright © 2015 by Victoria Scott
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available
First edition, March 2015
Cover art and design by Nina Goffi created from the following images: Ice: © 2/Studio 504/Corbis Images; Mountains: Christopher Kimmel/Corbis Images
e-ISBN 978-0-545-53749-0
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means
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