Unfortunately, the threat of being eaten by saurs hadn’t quite been enough to prevent two idiot enforcers from wandering onto the grasslands with those new energy weapons that everyone was calling streakers. They must’ve been crazy to take such a risk. But they’d gotten away with it, and Jaz was going to pay for their actions. Because he’d been the one who’d found the rabbit they killed, and he’d eaten it. How could he have been so stupid? Only I knew it wasn’t stupidity. It was sheer thoughtlessness, and a reckless disregard for consequences was so much a part of Jaz’s nature that it was hard to be mad at him for it. Anyway, I didn’t have time to be angry. There was no time left for anything anymore. Except for this journey that ended in death.
Jaz’s cheerful voice interrupted my grim thoughts. “Ash, how about here?” He’d stopped a few paces in front of me and was pointing to a small patch of ground that ran beside a stream. “I think this is an excellent place for me to practice. There’s water and everything!”
I considered it. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around, and we were near the fringes of the Firstwood, too, which was good. I could do what had to be done here and then go to the grasslands, where the saurs would be waiting.
“Okay, Jaz, let’s practice,” I said in a bright tone that I hoped didn’t sound too fake. “Remember the rules, though. You need to sit down and focus.”
He dropped to the ground next to the stream, and I sat opposite him. After a moment, a tiny flame flickered into being between us. Then another, and another. I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t lose control as he had so often before. Let him have a good day. Please, let him have a good day.
And he did. The flames continued to appear until they’d built themselves into a small fire that burned steady and perfect.
“Jaz!” I exclaimed. “You did it.”
He grinned in delight. “I didn’t set your boots on fire or anything!”
“Great job, Jaz.” I reached around the fire to ruffle his spiky hair. “Tell you what: let’s have a toast to celebrate.”
He watched me as I pulled out my water bottle, his small face uncharacteristically serious. For an anxious second, I thought he’d realized what I was doing. Until he said, “Ash? I want you to know I’m sorry. About the rabbit, I mean.”
I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I just thought, someone should eat it since it was already dead. Those stupid enforcers didn’t even want it. They were only seeing how far their streakers would shoot.”
“I know, Jaz. Like I said, it’s okay.” I held up my flask, watching as he pulled out his. “A toast, yes? To the fire!”
“The fire!”
We clinked our bottles together and drank. I made sure I took a long, deep draft to encourage him to do the same. Although he probably wouldn’t need to drink much. The herb that Ember had mixed into his water was strong. I used it myself when I wanted a proper heavy slumber without dreams or Sleepwalking. It should make Jaz sleep for hours, certainly long enough for me to carry out my plan.
The two of us sat in silence for a while, sipping our water and watching the fire die. I noticed that he didn’t seem very tired. Maybe I should have used more of the herb. I went to lift my flask to propose yet another toast, but found my arm strangely heavy. I stared down at it, puzzled. Why couldn’t I move?
“That herb is pretty powerful stuff,” Jaz said.
My heart froze in my chest. “Jaz, what have you done?”
“Switched the flasks. Also put in more herb, since you’re bigger than me.” He sighed. “How stupid do you think I am, Ash?”
I tried to reach out to him but found my limbs sluggish, unwilling to obey me. “You don’t understand, Jaz.”
“Yes, I do.” His gaze, when it met mine, was steady. Determined. Completely unlike Jaz. “I understand that the reason we can live in the Firstwood without the saurs chasing us out or gobbling us up is because you made a pact with them. None of us is supposed to eat the flesh of animals. I thought it’d be okay, since I didn’t kill that rabbit myself, but it’s not. Now you have to give me to the saurs. That’s the way it is.”
The herb was working fast. I could no longer support myself, and I began to topple to one side. Jaz jumped up, put his small hands on my shoulders, and lowered me to the ground. “You know,” he said, “I never did have much of a home before. Almost didn’t here, either. Remember how everyone wanted to throw me out for stealing when I first got here? That was before you made me promise not to do it anymore. Even so, every time something went missing after that, everybody blamed me. Until you went around and found their things and said they’d misplaced them. And everyone was very sorry that they’d been mean to me.” He gave me a sidelong glance. “Except you and I both know that I did take their stuff, even though I’d promised not to. I’ve never been able to figure out how you found my stash.”
“Jashhh . . .” It was getting harder to form words. “Run. You have to runnnn. . . .”
He shook his head. “If I run, they’ll take you. But that was what you wanted all along, wasn’t it?” I blinked in surprise, and he laughed. “See? I do understand. You were going to wait until I was asleep, then give yourself to the saurs instead of me. Only you didn’t tell the others that, because you’re the leader of the Tribe, and they wouldn’t let you do it. Well, guess what? I won’t let you, either.” He rested his hand on mine and squeezed it. “You’re more of a mom to me than my own mom ever was, Ash.”
I tried to grab hold of him to keep him with me, but my stupid body wouldn’t respond. He bent to press a kiss on my cheek. “Don’t feel too bad, Ash. Maybe the saurs won’t eat me. I’m too little to be much of a meal, and too tough to be tasty. Besides, they might be won over by my endearing personality.” He gave me a classic Jaz grin, brimming with reckless mischief. Then he bounded away, leaving me to watch helplessly as his small feet disappeared into the forest. I tried to crawl after him. But the herb took me, plunging me into a sleep from which I couldn’t wake and in which I couldn’t Walk. I could say nothing, do nothing. Save no one . . .
I woke hours later and found the air cold and the sky growing dark. “Jaz!” I yelled. “Jaz!” He didn’t answer, and I staggered in the direction he’d gone, following the marks of his footprints to the edge of the Firstwood. When I reached the grasslands, I found his water bottle sitting upright, as though he’d left it there for me. No, not his water flask. He’d switched them. This flask was mine.
I fell to my knees beside it, my chest so tight that I had to gasp for air. Scanning the earth around me, I read the grim story told by the tracks in the soil. The passage of the saurs was marked by flattened grass, and I could picture how the big lizards must have looked as they came pounding across the grasslands, their dark, scaled bodies so much larger than Jaz’s tiny frame. And Jaz — my brave, stupid Jaz — had come out of the forest to meet them.
I checked for signs of a Firestarter death inferno, flames or scorched earth or smoke, but there was nothing. The saurs understood what Jaz was, and they wouldn’t have risked damaging their hunting grounds by killing him where the grass would burn. They’ll have taken him to water, and then . . .
Gruesome pictures filled my mind, and I couldn’t make them go away. I should have known what he was planning. Somehow, someway, I should have known. I’d lost another Firestarter. And it was all my fault.
I pressed my face into the ground that Jaz had walked and wept useless tears into the small imprints of his footsteps.
The memory stopped, freezing on that moment of wrenching grief.
Everything dissolved into nothingness, before it re-formed around me in a new shape. I was back in the tree, holding tight to the trunk of the tuart and looking out to where the distant dog-beast was squatting on his haunches. The monster stared at me across the long stretch of earth between us, his red gaze seeming oddly sympathetic. Throwing back his head, he howled, a deep, mournful cry that echoed across the grasslands and shook the trees of the Firstwood.<
br />
Yes, I thought. That’s how I feel.
The world of the machine started to fade, but the hound’s howl stayed with me. It was still lingering in my ears when I found myself back in the white room, my body soaked with sweat and my face wet with tears. I closed my eyes, unable to process another image, another emotion, another thought. My mind curled in on itself, hunching into a tight ball, and I felt myself slipping gratefully into unconsciousness.
The last thing I was aware of before darkness claimed me was an angel, come to lift me into his arms and carry me out of the lions’ den.
I woke in an unfamiliar room. Blinking groggily, I tried to work out where I was. White ceiling above me. Uncomfortable mattress beneath me. Small barred window in the wall in front of me. Some kind of cell?
I sat up and instantly regretted it when my head seemed to explode into a million pieces. Guess it’s no surprise that I have a headache. Groaning, I collapsed back onto the bed and closed my eyes against the bright glow of the morning sunlight. I could feel the smooth coldness of rhondarite against my neck, so at some point Connor must have put the collar back on me. He’d probably replaced it pretty quickly when I’d passed out — either Grey’s stay-awake drug had worn off or my desire for unconsciousness had been stronger than whatever was in the vial. I tried to remember how I’d gotten here and realized that Connor must have carried me. Wonderful. As if I hadn’t been humiliated enough.
I reviewed the rest of yesterday’s events, trying to work out exactly what information I’d revealed. Jaz. They knew he’d been one of us. Since he was gone, though, that didn’t really matter. No one could hurt him anymore. And I’d told them about the pact. But Ember had thought that it was possible that the rabbit killing had been an attempt to mess with the pact, which meant news of our agreement with the lizards had already leaked. It wasn’t the kind of thing anyone would have made a special effort to keep secret, because we hadn’t believed it could be used to hurt us, and it shouldn’t have. Contrary to what the government had assumed, the presence of a few dead animals wouldn’t have been enough to make the lizards think we’d betrayed them. If only Jaz hadn’t eaten the rabbit!
I tried sitting up again, more slowly this time. I still didn’t want to move, but my bladder was insisting I did, so I staggered across the room to use the toilet on the far wall. I was washing my hands in the basin beside it when there was a high-pitched wailing from outside. My pulse quickened in excitement. An alarm?
I pushed down the toilet lid and climbed on top so I could reach the window. I couldn’t see much — a patch of ground, the smooth composite walls of surrounding buildings, and some administrators strolling calmly along. Disappointingly, they didn’t seem concerned about the wailing noise. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t any kind of emergency.
I examined the window more closely, testing the strength of the bars and wishing I could access my ability. I’d have no trouble escaping if I could manage to Sleepwalk. When I Walked, I moved through the world in an unconscious state, seeing everything as part of a super-intense dream. The cell might appear to me as some kind of wily monster, holding me in jaws filled with long teeth like the bars on the window. All I’d have to do was smash those teeth in my dream and my fist would shatter the bars, setting me free. But I had no chance of Sleepwalking with rhondarite around my neck.
I made my way back to the narrow bed, where I rested my pounding head in my hands and tried to regain some strength. I’d been sitting there for what seemed like ages — and not feeling any better, either — when the cell door swung open and a familiar voice said, “You’re awake.”
Connor stood in front of me, carrying a flask in one hand and a small rectangular package in the other. He scanned my face, and something jagged and wild flashed across his eyes, like lightning in a clear sky. Anger? But I could see no reason for him to be mad.
He held out the silver flask. “Drink this.”
“What is it?”
“Medicine from Dr. Wentworth.”
To keep me strong enough to continue the interrogation. I took the flask wearily and edged back on the bed so I could lean against the wall. A spark of rage flared up inside me, as if I’d been infected by Connor’s bad mood. I didn’t have the energy to be truly angry, but it was enough to inspire me with a certain obstinate defiance. Moving with deliberate slowness, I drank some of the medicine, then counted to thirty before I took another swallow. Then sixty before drinking again. Then ninety. I’d gotten all the way up to one hundred and fifty seconds between sips when Connor finally spoke. “You have to drink all of it, Ashala.”
“Make me.”
He looked exasperated. “You don’t want me to do that.”
That was true enough. The petty satisfaction I was getting out of annoying him wasn’t worth having the medicine forced down my throat. Besides, even the small amount I’d had was doing wonders for the ache in my head. I took a few decent swigs. “So what’s bothering you this morning?” I asked. “Don’t tell me you didn’t get that big promotion after all!”
“There is nothing bothering me.”
Is, too. I studied him intently as I continued to drink, noticing he seemed tired. “Having trouble sleeping? You should see Wentworth about that. Although I doubt she’s got anything for a guilty conscience.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “My conscience is clear.”
“Oh, yeah? I guess you must be proud of everything you’ve done, then. I mean, being the one to capture me would have been enough for most enforcers. But,” I added with savage sarcasm, “it takes a special guy to tie me up and watch my mind get pulled to pieces.”
Something fierce leaped to life in his face, and was gone again just as fast. When he spoke, he sounded coldly resolute. “I told you before. I will do whatever I must.”
“I know.” I held his gaze. “Only that doesn’t mean you like all the things you’ve had to do.”
His expression was unreadable. The fact that he didn’t reply, though, was enough to tell me that I was right. I think I won that round. Not that I expected him to have a sudden change of heart — he was too deeply committed to his beliefs for that — but the knowledge that he was suffering even a tiny bit over this was enough to cheer me up.
Basking in my victory, I took another swig of Wentworth’s syrupy concoction. The soothing sensation of the medicine was spreading throughout my system, and I felt light, almost giddy. I guzzled the rest of it, making sure to get every last drop. Connor waited until I’d let the empty flask fall to the bed, then handed me the rectangular package. “Eat. This is breakfast.”
His voice had returned to something approaching his usual smooth tone, except it was a bit ragged around the edges, instilling me with a desire to provoke him further. I ripped off the wrapping, found a cream-colored block inside, and made a show of examining it from every angle before shaking my head. “Oh, dear. I’m afraid you’ve gone and mixed up the food supplies with the building supplies.”
“It’s a protein bar, and it’s perfectly edible.”
“How do you know? Bet this wasn’t what you had for breakfast.”
“It was, actually.”
“Really? Were you being punished for something?”
“I realize it might not seem very appetizing, but it contains all the nutrients you require.”
I started to toss the bar from hand to hand. “What if I don’t want it? It’s going to be much harder to get me to eat this than it was to make me take the medicine.” I threw it back and forth one last time, then waved it at him threateningly. “Plus I’m armed now. This thing’s so hard that if I hit you with it, I could probably kill you.”
Connor didn’t respond.
“What, no smile?” I asked flippantly. “Not even to acknowledge my plucky resilience, my gutsy defiance in the face of overwhelming odds?”
He retained his statue-like composure for a second longer. Then his lips twitched, and he did smile, a sudden flash of brilliance that sparkled across h
is eyes like light over water. “Ashala, please eat the protein bar.”
With effort, I tore my gaze away from his face. Breathe, Ash. Just breathe. It wasn’t fair that a being of such imperfection could look so perfect. Why couldn’t I see the flaws in his character running through his features, like hairline cracks through marble? Feeling awkward in a space that seemed too small for the both of us, I searched around for something to say. “Um . . . what’s that noise outside?” Even as I spoke, I realized that the wailing had stopped some time ago. But Connor understood what I meant.
“It was a test.”
“A test of what?”
He glanced at the bar. I sighed and took a bite. It was completely tasteless, but food was energy, even when it came in unappealing block form.
“Wait, let me guess. It was the oh-no-the-detainees-are-escaping alarm? Or the better-run-because-Miriam-Grey-needs-a-new-test-subject alarm? Or,” I added witheringly, “is it the alarm that goes off if a government employee ever has an independent thought?”
“It’s the fire alarm.”
There was a disarming hint of laughter in his voice, and it was making me uncomfortable. I wanted him to be angry or annoyed, to create some kind of distance between us. “What, doesn’t it work properly? I bet the Inspectorate will have something to say about that on their big visit on Friday!”
The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf (The Tribe) Page 4
