Guardians

by Susan Kim

  Esther took the girl’s other hand, which felt hot and papery in her own. With Joseph and his cat carrier bringing up the rear, they began the arduous journey up the stone steps, which soon gave way to wooden planks.

  Their footing was unstable and the steps were punishingly high. Many were warped or cracked and the ancient nails that held them in place squeaked and groaned. As the sun beat down on them, Esther and the others clung to the bent and rusted banister for support. At times, the stairs gave way altogether and they were forced to pull themselves over the dusty incline hand over hand.

  Yet with each painful step, the smoke grew closer.

  Esther kept her eyes on the ground beneath her and focused on moving her feet; it was the only way she could bear to continue. Behind her, she could hear Joseph toiling upward, matching her step for step. With her left hand, she still kept tight hold of Ava. By now, Esther was practically dragging the younger girl upward. Finally, Pilot scrambled ahead. When Esther raised her eyes, she saw he stood at the top, gazing down at them, impatient. He even wagged his tail.

  With that, Esther pulled herself onto the final step. Ava dropped forward upon the ground as Joseph, still gripping the cat carrier, joined her.

  Esther saw that they were now high above the city of Mundreel, which spread out behind them. They stood before the wide expanse of what had once been a public park. Brown and straggly growth filled a haphazard field that faced a dense forest.

  To her disappointment, Esther saw that although they were closer, the smoke was still farther away, rising from above the treetops. She estimated they had at least another half mile to go.

  Behind her, Joseph had struggled to get the younger girl back to her feet. By now, Ava was barely conscious. Esther bent over and took her on her back, hoisting her leg with one hand while gripping her opposite shoulder with the other. When she straightened, she felt as if she were carrying hundreds of pounds, even though Ava was not much more than half her weight.

  The heat of the sun and the effort of carrying Ava made it seem as if the child was burning up; within seconds, Esther’s back grew even slicker with perspiration. Yet she continued across the park grounds and into the deep woods that surrounded them, the dog by her side and Joseph trailing behind. As she picked her way through the tangled undergrowth, she managed to keep an eye on the ephemeral gray trail in the sky.

  At last, she saw where it was emanating from.

  Deeper in the woods, the remains of a fire smoldered in the center of a wide stone terrace, set in the side of the mountain. Behind it loomed a large building, ornate yet in bad repair.

  Esther turned to Joseph and gestured for him to be quiet. Without making a sound, she then slipped Ava from her shoulders and onto the mossy ground. She clicked her tongue softly; Pilot’s ears perked up at the familiar command. Then, moving with great care, she and the dog made their way closer.

  Peering through the dense foliage, Esther saw no one at first. Then a figure stepped out from around the building, dragging a tree limb.

  It was Skar.

  Even as the variant girl looked up, Esther had burst from her hiding place and was racing toward her. Pilot exploded in joyous barking as he ran with Esther. She flew to her oldest friend and leaped into her arms.

  They stayed like that for what seemed minutes, and although Skar rarely cried, her face was soon wet with tears, both hers and Esther’s. Finally, she was able to pull back and look into the other girl’s eyes.

  “It is good to see you,” the variant said, with her typical understatement. Esther smiled.

  “You, too,” she said.

  “We did not know what had happened after that night. After Gideon and his boys arrived.”

  Esther shook her head. “Eli saved me. He’s in charge of sentencing, and he . . . I have him to thank.”

  Skar was letting Pilot sniff her hand; now the dog even deigned to allow her to stroke him, lowering his massive head. “But that was weeks ago. Where have you been since then?”

  For a moment, Esther thought of the crack of Jud’s belt, the backbreaking labor in the new tower, the brutal attack by Gideon’s guards. She could not bear to recount any of it, at least not yet. She shook her head. Skar nodded with understanding; then she placed a soft palm on Esther’s wounded jaw.

  “It’s all right,” Esther said. “It’ll heal.” She took Skar’s hand away and squeezed it. “But tell me about you and the others. Did everyone get out? Are you all well?”

  Skar smiled. “We are. But—”

  Then she smiled. Ava and Joseph had emerged, timidly, from the underbrush. Skar had already run forward and was embracing the older boy, who kept his arms rigidly at his sides. Still, he beamed the whole time.

  After a quick introduction, Skar took Ava herself, lifting her onto her strong back.

  “Follow me,” she said.

  Skar led them down streets, cutting past backyards and through sections of forest until they finally emerged onto a sidewalk. Esther saw they were in a business district of brick buildings, two and three stories high. They stopped in front of one and Skar nodded.

  Inside, the smell of roast meat hung heavy in the air. A small group was seated on the floor, finishing their midday meal: Michal, Silas, Uri.

  And Kai.

  “Mama!”

  With a look of amazement, the little boy stood up, food still pasted around his mouth. Then he ran to her. Forgetting her exhaustion, Esther bent low and scooped the delighted child into her arms, pressing kiss after kiss upon his soft and sticky face. She could not squeeze him tightly enough. He too clung to her, giggling and squealing with joy at the feel of her mouth on his neck.

  The others surrounded her as well, laughing and exclaiming as they hugged her. Esther tried to greet them all in turn but the whole time, her eyes kept roaming through the empty storefront. At last, they landed on Skar.

  “Where’s Sarah?”

  The chatter died down as one by one, her friends averted their eyes. Finally, Skar spoke.

  “They have her.” Her expression was grave. “Saith and Gideon.”

  Esther felt the floor shift beneath her. “But . . . but you said—”

  “I did not mean to lie to you. But it was important to get you to safety first.” Skar sighed. “I am sorry, Esther.”

  In an instant, all the strength that Esther’s friends had given her seemed to vanish; her knees buckled and she sank to the floor, still holding Kai. Numb, she sat like that for what felt like hours. She listened to Skar describe the onslaught, their escape, and how they came to their new refuge.

  “Then I must go,” Esther said. She struggled to rise, but Skar put a hand on her arm, restraining her.

  “You are much too weak.”

  “I don’t care. I have to find her. I—”

  “We will find out where she is soon enough. I have sent someone to the District.”

  Esther glanced up sharply. Her eyes flickered to Silas, who looked as surprised by the news as the others.

  “Who?”

  “The boy with the white hair. Trey.”

  Esther drew a deep breath; at first, she thought she had misheard. “Trey? When did he . . .”

  “He left only yesterday. But if anyone can find out what is going on inside the District, it is he.”

  After a pause, Esther nodded. Although the odds seemed grim, she knew that her friend was right: Trey was more than capable. Knowing that he was at that moment searching for news of her child, Esther was comforted . . . so much so that for the first time in what seemed like weeks, she allowed herself to feel a sudden and fierce stab of hunger.

  “Please,” she said, “if there’s anything left . . . we’re starving.”

  Michal began serving what remained of their meal, and Uri fetched clean water from a bucket in the corner. Joseph accepted his portion and fed Stumpy a chunk of it, having freed her from the carrier. Then he began eating ravenously, cramming roast rabbit into his mouth. Esther waited to take her own until
Ava was served. Then she made certain to feed Pilot before starting to eat as well.

  “Here,” Michal said, as she bent over the smaller girl, holding out a haunch of meat.

  Then she stopped. With a cry, she jerked back so fast she dropped the food on the floor.

  On the underside of Ava’s outstretched arm was a round purple mark, small yet unmistakable: a lesion. That explained the heat, Esther realized with a pang as she remembered the thin body pressed against her back. The girl was burning up with fever.

  “You can serve her,” she said to Michal, with more force than she had intended. “It’s all right.”

  But she could see stubborn dismay on Michal’s face. Silas, too, had begun to back away, pressing his arm against his mouth and nose; even Skar appeared uneasy. Esther retrieved the food from the ground and, brushing it off, handed it to Ava. The girl whispered her thanks. Then she lowered her eyes and began to eat.

  Esther was exasperated. She knew that nothing she could say would ever convince her friends that the sick posed no threat, that their fears were unfounded—not even the fact that she herself was still alive.

  Then someone cleared his throat.

  It was Uri. Like Joseph, his mentor and friend, the boy seemed ill at ease speaking to a group. His thin neck was flushed a dark red and he worked his hands, twisting his fingers together.

  “Esther’s right,” he said. “I don’t think you get sick that way.”

  Because Uri was normally so silent, the others paid attention.

  “Some diseases you get from people.” Uri looked as if he were addressing the floor. “We all know about those. The ones where you sneeze or cough . . . if you’re sick like that, you pass it to others. But some illnesses, you don’t. Like a headache. A cut that doesn’t get better.” The others nodded as they digested his words. “That’s because we get sick from all kinds of things. Bad food. Animal bites. Not always people.”

  Now he raised his head so that everyone could hear. “This disease comes from water. That means it’s safe to be around someone who’s sick.” He indicated Ava, who stared at him without comprehension. “In fact, the more time we spend with them, the less likely we’ll get sick. It makes us . . . immune.”

  Finished, Uri glanced away. Joseph was looking at him with an expression of pride on his face.

  Esther thought over Uri’s strange words: the idea that spending time with the dying kept one from getting the disease. Could it be true? She saw the others looking at Ava quizzically, considering his odd ideas.

  After a whispered discussion, Ava was allowed to remain in the store: She was given space in the corner, far from the rest. Within minutes, heedless of the stifling air, the girl was fast asleep. So was Joseph.

  Michal had taken Kai; she, Skar, and the others had slipped away to give the three some much-needed quiet. Esther had curled into a ball on her side, when she felt something bump against her.

  It was Pilot, nosing her cheek. She put her arms around him and burrowed her face into his dusty fur.

  Soon, they, too, were asleep.

  Esther felt someone touch her arm.

  Fear exploding in her chest, she bolted upright, her arms covering her face. It took a moment to realize she was no longer in slave quarters and that Jud wasn’t standing over her, brandishing his belt.

  Kneeling in front of her, gently shaking her awake, was Skar.

  “Sarah is alive,” Skar whispered. She gestured to the door.

  All of the day’s events came rushing back. “Sarah.” Esther’s voice was a croak, and she stumbled to rush outside.

  Lit by the setting sun, Trey was leaning against a rusty and dented car. When he saw Esther in the doorway, his face lit up; for a moment, it seemed that he might rush forward and seize her in an embrace. Then he looked away and cleared his throat as if uncomfortable.

  “Your friend in there said you was still alive,” he remarked in a neutral voice. “Had to see for myself. ’Cause that sure ain’t what they say back at the District.”

  He looked much the way she remembered, with the white strip in his dark hair. He was leaner than before, his face more creased. It was becoming to him, Esther had to admit; she was glad to see him. Yet there were so many emotions to take in now.

  “Sarah,” she said instantly. “She’s still alive? What did you find?”

  “She alive. But ain’t that simple. They holding her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  As Trey talked, Esther crouched down to pat Pilot. The animal had come out to investigate the stranger and although he growled at first, he stayed close to Esther. Occasionally, she scratched his stomach, something he loved. But mostly, she listened.

  After finding a white sheet to cover himself, Trey had found it easy to slip into the District. Inside, things were much worse than they had been when he’d left only weeks before. The worship of Saith had become even more crazed than ever. The pilgrims who arrived every day waited for hours to see her. Praying and bowing, they wound their way around the lobby in a seemingly endless line. Then they were given a sip of colored water that the girl promised would give them eternal life.

  “I tasted some,” remarked Trey. “Waited my turn so I could see what was up. It ain’t proof, but it close. Water with something nasty in it.”

  But that was just the beginning. After listening to her speak and talking to a number of her most devout worshipers, Trey realized that Saith no longer saw herself as just a priestess or seer. She claimed to be transforming into something greater than that . . . something that was no longer human.

  She was becoming God.

  Esther gave Trey a sharp look. “And Sarah?”

  Grim, the boy shook his head. “I couldn’t get much information, but Saith planning something. I heard everyone say the same thing.” When he finally met Esther’s eyes, his expression was full of anger and contempt. “She aim to do something with your baby. Something bad.”

  Esther said nothing.

  She was swept up with a feeling she had never experienced before. It went beyond rage or hatred or the fierce need to protect. It surpassed even the love she felt for Sarah, Kai, Skar, and her friends.

  In a moment, her world, which had never before been simple or easy, became stunningly clear, and for the first time, Esther saw everything as if it were laid out beneath a brilliant light. On one side was Saith and all that she represented: greed, cruelty, and pride. Saith stood for death, for innocent blood being shed, for lies and madness and grief.

  On the other side was everything else: not just Esther’s family and friends, but everyone who lived. She did not need to know them—their lives, their joys and struggles—to understand their worth. As flawed as people could be, she was fighting for every single one of them.

  Then she felt something. Trey’s hand was intertwined with hers.

  Esther did not remember moving, but a second later she was in his arms. She pressed her face into his shoulder and then his chest. He smelled of fire and smoke and the outside world. Her lips brushed the taut skin of his neck, then pressed upon it. She moved her mouth to his, exploring. His arms went around her and clasped her fast.

  Kissing Trey was an exquisite relief after all that she had endured. For a moment, she yearned for him, was tempted to move even deeper into his embrace, and to hide herself in him. Yet she found herself resisting.

  She and Trey were united in a crusade. There was no time for this now. After their mission had been completed, they might be able to afford the luxury . . . but only then.

  Esther forced herself to pull away. “Let’s go,” she said, and he nodded, with reluctance.

  When they reentered the storefront, Michal had Kai on her lap and was preparing dinner as Uri boiled water in a firebowl. Although Ava was still motionless, Joseph was awake and drinking from a plastic bottle.

  Everyone looked up as one and faced Esther for instructions. It was clear they could not make a move without her.

  Yet Esther knew that sh
e no longer mattered. Even if she died, it would be all right. The cause would outlive her. It was the newest and most exhilarating feeling of all.

  “All right,” she said. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going back.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  WHEN GIDEON RETURNED TO THE DISTRICT AFTER INSPECTING THE NEW building, the setting sun threw brilliant light that cast deep shadows behind him. As he brushed past the guards who opened the lobby doors, he seemed cold and impassive.

  Yet secretly, he was exhilarated.

  The construction had gone exactly as he had planned. Although Joseph’s understanding of building was primitive at best, he had still managed to oversee the completion of a small section of roof. This had been Gideon’s goal from the start: that the workers finish a single piece of the garden as quickly as possible. All that Gideon needed for now was something that could comfortably support a few people.

  One of those people, of course, would be him. The others would be his guards.

  Watching Saith, Gideon was convinced that she had no idea what he was planning. He had gambled on the chance that she would be so distracted by the altar in her honor, she would not notice what was actually taking place on the roof. The crude shrine had served its purpose.

  Gideon would be ready to leave the District that night. Traveling with him would be three of his most trusted aides, who would patrol his new home, work the garden, and see to his needs. As far as Gideon could tell, the time had arrived none too soon.

  His guards, ever watchful, had informed him only days before of something he had long dreaded: The first of Saith’s pilgrims were becoming sick. Giddy with the promise of eternal life, they had ventured back onto the streets of Mundreel to test their new invulnerability by doing stupid things: drinking runoff water, wading in whatever streams they could find. Gideon recalled the brief yet fierce shower earlier that week. He could only imagine how the foolish and hopeful had stayed outside in the deadly downpour merely to flaunt their convictions.

  Apparently, he thought with a grim smile, the disease itself didn’t care about Saith’s promises or her magical blue water; instead, it had made its usual swift and inevitable progression. Now, dozens of her disciples—bewildered, frightened, and clearly dying—were starting to return to the District in greater numbers each day. They were there to demand not just an explanation, but a miracle.