by Melanie Tays
“I wonder what they make of it?”
“It probably has them kissing the ground the Council walks on for keeping them safe,” Vander says, with a derisive emphasis when he mentions the phony Council. “That’s really annoying,” he mutters, watching me nervously pace the short distance between two trees.
I’m still rather annoyed with him, myself. But I go ahead and find a place to sit and wait, more for the sake of my injured leg than out of any concern about irritating him.
The sun has been up for over an hour now, and there’s still no sign of anyone. I wish I had reminded them to bring food, but then I remember that the entire plan involves a cartload of food that we’ll prevent from entering The City, so there will be plenty to eat soon enough.
Vander has found a sharp rock and is using it to whittle away at a stick. I consider pacing again, just to have something to do, but finally, I see a plume of ash in the distance as people pass across the plain, coming toward us. The cloud of dust they create obscures our view.
“How many people are coming?” I ask, alarmed.
“I think they’re riding horses,” Vander says, squinting to see better. “And I think they’re pulling a big cart behind them. Must be the food.”
I sigh in relief as they draw near, and I can see that he was right. Kamella and Shawny ride together on Petal. Ty is with them—easily recognizable by his bright-red hair—riding his own horse which pulls a large, closed wooden cart on wheels.
Eagerly, we make our way to meet them partway.
Vander helps the girls off Petal, letting his arm linger around Kamella slightly longer than necessary.
“We were starting to worry,” I say.
“I knew you would come,” Vander insists.
“I had a lot of things to get ready,” Kamella explains. “It took me most of the night, but it’s all worked out.”
“It would have been easier if you would have let me help,” Shawny chides.
Kamella ignores her, making her way around to the back of the cart. It’s large enough to fit a horse inside. But when Kamella returns, all she’s carrying is a basket of bread and fruit, a bottle of water, and two more pills for me to swallow.
I take the pills quickly and then start shoving food in my mouth without any regard for social etiquette. Vander’s busy stuffing his face with handfuls of grapes, and I’ve got my mouth occupied with a mixture of bread, cheese, and bananas.
That’s when Kamella says, “I have something to tell you. Don’t be mad. Just hear us out.”
The food, which seconds ago tasted like beautiful life itself, takes on the consistency of mud and gets stuck in my throat. Nothing good can come from an opening like that. Shawny’s stunned expression tells me she’s just as confused as the rest of us, so when Kamella said ‘us,’ she was talking about someone else.
“Mom, Dad!” Kamella calls.
There’s a rustling from inside the cart, and then two people emerge.
Ollie and Roe.
“You little traitor,” Shawny hisses. “What are they doing here? I thought the Council was the enemy.”
“The Council?” I say, half-question, half-curse.
“Olivia and Rogan Denning,” Shawny pronounces with mock-esteem.
So many questions distill into clarity in that instant. I can’t believe I never thought more about who the remaining members of the Council were. Of course, they would still be here. There were five original Council members. I knew what happened to Bretton and Traeger. But when Kamella mentioned yesterday that one of them, Alexia Hayworth, led the rebels, I just kind of assumed the other two were with her.
But I was wrong. They’re still here, and in charge of the Ash. And the two of them—who don’t seem to even like each other—are Kamella’s parents. There’s got to be a story there. Some people would be dying to know the gory details. All I care about is that, once again, my lack of knowledge regarding who people really are and who they’re related to has surprised me for the worst.
First, there was Vander and his doctor dad.
Then Eason and his councilman father.
And now this.
From now on—if this isn’t about to be the end—I’m going to demand a complete family pedigree of every new person I meet.
Even though my heart is pounding and cold sweat beads at the nape of my neck, I muster the courage to tell them the only thing that might save my life right now, because if I die, then so does Whyle and so does Eason.
“It doesn’t have to be this way. I understand that you made a deal with Traeger to save yourselves. No one can blame you for that. But now is your chance to redeem yourselves and be the protectors of The City you were meant to be,” I implore.
Vander, Shawny, and I stand frozen, waiting for their response, debating our chances of fighting them off. But of course, they will have weapons of some kind up their sleeves. The only person who appears unfazed is Ty, who’s petting his horse and sharing an apple with it.
“You’re right,” says Ollie, her voice gentle, pleading even.
It’s exactly what I hoped to hear, yet the words don’t set me at ease. They wouldn’t give in and turn sides so easily. It must be a trap of some kind.
“It’s okay,” Kamella assures me. “You can trust them.”
“Kamella told us everything,” says Roe. “We agree that now is the…t…time to make a stand and…and free The City from…Tr…Traeger. And we think we can do it.” It comes out in spurts and stutters. It reminds me of when Bretton was trying to ask me about Eason and couldn’t get the words out—before he had the antidote.
“But Traeger can just turn everyone against us,” I say. “He did it just a few days ago.”
Ollie frowns. “That was a surprise. We didn’t know what you were…planning. We had no idea that he would release a new…kind of…f...fog. We weren’t prepared. But in all these years, we’ve developed a…a few tricks of our own,” Ollie says with equal difficulty.
I’ve never seen them appear anything but smooth and confident. Bretton said he was given something that specifically targeted certain memories and topics. It seems something similar was done to them. If they’ve managed to do anything in hopes of rebelling against Traeger, I can only imagine how difficult it must have been. How many years have they struggled to recall their goal and fought for every moment of lucidity to take the smallest step toward it?
“So what’s the plan?” I ask, letting my guard down.
“It’s difficult for us to…think or talk about this because of the…because of the…” Ollie tries to say.
“Because of the Mind Mist?” I offer.
She nods. “Kamella will explain the plan.”
Before Kamella can say anything, Roe pulls a whistle from his pocket and blows, emitting an ear-piercing screech.
I wince at the sound and wonder what the point was, but Kamella just ignores it and keeps talking. “The plan is essentially the same as what I outlined last night,” she says. “We have created banners that explain the truth about the Council and demand Traeger Sterling be delivered to us before any more food or supplies will be given to The City. We will carry these banners on horseback around the City until our demands are met.”
A familiar low hum is building, distracting me from what she’s saying, and I turn to see hundreds of people marching across the ash plain toward us.
“We have a problem,” I shout, pointing at the oncoming army. We haven’t even begun, and already we’re under attack. “Run!”
Chapter 23
Istart to turn at the sight of the approaching mass, and so does Vander—both of us all too familiar with this mob’s tactics.
“Stop! They are with us,” Kamella yells, reaching out to grab each of us by the arm before we can make an escape. “That’s what my parents were trying to explain. We managed to develop our own kind of Mind Mist. It will prevent any new substances from affecting them. It isn’t as good as the antidote you had. It will wear off in a couple days, and
it doesn’t undo the effects of anything they have already been exposed to. But it will prevent any new substances from being introduced and taking over. So, for now, we have an army of our own. We will all march with the banner around The City to show that the Ash is in our control.”
My head is a bit dizzy at the turn of events. Hundreds of people are gathering around us, but they aren’t angry or threatening this time. They behave as though they’re just out for a pleasant stroll, happy to go wherever Ollie and Roe direct.
There’s no apparent reason not to trust Kamella, Ollie, and Roe, and no time to waste, either, so we help attach the banners—bed sheets painted with tar lettering—to long poles that will position our message to The City high in the air. It might not be high enough to be seen all the way in the Flame, across the Wall of Fire, but hundreds of people in the Smoke will surely see it, including Enforcers and couriers who will return to the Flame later today. We’ll just have to hope that some of them will be inclined to spread the news.
Kamella brought me clean, untorn clothing, and after a while, I hide in the box cart to change. Even though the wound feels better with the medicine, I can’t say it looks encouraging. The skin around the laceration is as red and swollen as ever. It feels fine, though, so I slip on the clean pants and put it out of my mind. Then I move the broken transmitter and the dried and crumpled wad of paper that was Eason’s note to my new pockets, unsure of what good they’ll do me, but unable to let them go.
It takes a while for everyone to reach us, but when they do, I feel bolstered by the sight of so many people ready to stand with us. Of course, it’s not that they’re really choosing to fight The City. They aren’t choosing anything, just mindlessly following directions. But they are with us, and hopefully, Ollie wasn’t mistaken about being able to keep them on our side.
A little voice in the back of my mind wonders if we’re really any better than Traeger, using these people for our own plans when they don’t really have a choice. But we are going to regain these people’s freedom, rather than solidify our own power.
“There’s room on Petal for you to ride,” Kamella tells me when we’re ready to begin our march.
“Thank you, but I think I’ll walk for now,” I respond. With the dose of medicine she gave me this morning, my leg feels as good as ever, and I’m happy to walk and not feel like an invalid anymore.
Her mouth turns down at the corners. “Your leg is still injured. Just because you can’t feel it with the pain medicine doesn’t mean it’s healed. It still needs rest.”
“I’ll keep that in mind and take a break in a while,” I assure her.
The dirt beneath my feet trembles as we take off walking—the effect of hundreds of steps taken in unison and solidarity. I wonder if they can feel this in The City, maybe all the way to the Flame. Does Traeger Sterling sense that with every tremor, his power is crumbling? Has he locked himself in the Council Building, surrounded by guards?
Before we even get started, a thick, bitter mist begins to creep across the ashen plain. It seems to be emanating from The City itself. Alarmed, I clutch the blade Ollie gave me and take in the crowd. This is the same scent that filled the air on the morning the entire farm was mobilized to pursue Vander and me, but the bitter mist has no effect on them this morning. Whatever Ollie and Roe managed to concoct appears to be working.
We move at a brisk pace, and though our company doesn’t travel in formal ranks, there’s no mistaking our numbers as we tromp around The City. It’s clear we mean business, and every Enforcer in The City couldn’t subdue us if they tried.
We carry two banners—one at the front of our procession, and a second at the rear. The tall, heavy poles holding them aloft have been affixed to carts pulled by horses to make them easy to carry.
Vander walks hand in hand with Kamella, which doesn’t bother me like it would have a day ago when I didn’t trust Kamella, or three days ago when I thought Vander had so easily forgotten his girlfriend, Jessamine, the minute he left The City. She brushes her fingertips across the bruise on his cheek. I wonder if he’ll admit he sustained it when he passed out.
Seeing them together only makes me miss Eason more—long to feel his hand in mine, his arms holding me—so I let myself drift away from them.
“Hi, Emery,” someone calls.
I turn to see Mieka, smiling and rushing toward me from behind. She falls into step with me.
“Oh, hi Mieka.” Now that I’m free of the Mind Mist, it’s so strange for me to see Mieka as a friend rather than a foe.
“I didn’t see you for several days,” she says. “I was wondering where you went.”
“I was just…exploring the Ash,” I say vaguely.
She nods. “It’s so nice here, isn’t it? We really were lucky to get to come.” There’s a peaceful quality to her words, and I can’t decide if it’s entirely caused by the Mind Mist, or if it’s something else.
“It’s a lot nicer than we always thought,” I agree. “But what if you could get back into The City? Wouldn’t you want to see your family again?”
She wrinkles her nose—giving it an even more pinched appearance than usual—for only the briefest moment. It’s as though an unpleasant thought or emotion nearly took hold, but then it’s gone, her expression serene. She shrugs and says, “I don’t think so. It’s nice out here.”
I want to ask her more about her life in The City, her family, and what might have caused her to fail the Burning—other than being blazing mean to me, which I doubt honestly had much to do with it. But before I have a chance, Fox is at my side with questions of his own.
“Hey, some people said this prank was your idea,” he whispers conspiratorially.
“Kind of,” I hedge. “Though I suppose most of the credit has to go to Kamella, Ollie, and Roe. Well, and Shawny, too.” It was her idea to reach The City through a written message.
“This is so cool,” he says. “I’ve never seen a prank against The City. And letting so many of us get involved. This is an awesome day.”
“Fox, how long have you been here, in the Ash?”
His brow furrows, as though he’s struggling to remember. “I think it’s been two years. That’s when I failed the Burning.”
“Why did you fail?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I did pretty well on all the trials, as far as I could tell. In fact, during my round of the Burning, our Gold Trial was a test of our military strategy—I guess in case The City ever gets attacked. We were divided into teams of three and assigned another team whose base we had to take over while also defending our own. My team was the very first to capture our target. Yet somehow, every one of us failed the Burning.”
“Who were your teammates? Anyone I know?”
“Yeah, Cresta.” That surprises me. “And Hail.” He points to a hugely muscled guy walking a few rows back from us. He shrugs. “But honestly, it’s for the best. It’s so much nicer on the farm, you know?” he adds with the signature carefree quality of those infected with the Mind Mist.
I have to think about this for a few minutes. It seems so wrong that these people who, by all accounts, won the Gold Trial, would be sent to the Ash. But it also fails to surprise me. Isn’t that what Eason told me—that the trials don’t really have a clear measure of pass or fail? He said it’s all about determining who will best serve the needs of The City. But if Fox and the others who showed the strongest ability to defend The City were expelled, then it seems the real measure is not who will help protect The City, but who poses the least threat to Traeger Sterling’s power. It’s one more reason why we can’t stop until Traeger Sterling is in our hands and The City is free—as though we need any more motivation.
Earlier this morning, I’d let myself believe this would be quick and easy. I hoped that once people read our message, knew the truth about The City, and realized that food and supplies would be withheld, the people and Enforcers would all turn on Traeger and fight their way through. But after several hours of marc
hing, it’s clear that it’s not going to be that simple. As far as we can see from the outside looking in, the most we’ve managed to do is draw the furtive gazes of anyone near enough to the barrier to see our message and far enough from an Enforcer to not get blasted. And we’ve seen three people sustain stun blasts for miscalculating.
The surge of anticipation and adrenaline fueling me this morning has started to wane under the hot sun and uneventful monotony of the day. Finally, we break for lunch. I settle myself down for a welcomed rest, sitting with Vander, Kamella, and Shawny. They’re the only people I can handle conversing with right now, since they’re the only ones capable of a serious, coherent conversation.
They’ve brought a lot of food with them from the farm. We pass around baskets laden with fresh fruits and vegetables and make sure to eat it in full view of The City’s inhabitants. We aren’t trying to taunt them; we just want them to know we aren’t lying about having food and supplies. The kids might not recognize this kind of food, that looks nothing like the gray mush they are used to, but most of the adults are old enough to remember the days before the Safe Domes and the meal rations.
Traeger Sterling isn’t the type to just give himself up. In fact, I’d wager he’s willing to use every single person in The City as personal body armor if necessary. We need everyone in The City—Smoke and Flame—to rise up and resist with everything they have.
Resist.
“Ty!” I yell, searching the crowd until I find him and beckon him to join us. “Ty, we need the Resistance to spread this message across the Wall of Fire,” I tell him. “How can we be certain they will?”
“Maybe offer them a cookie if they pass the message along,” he says, and bursts into laughter.
He’s not going to be any help right now. It’ll take more coaxing to jog any useful memories from his hazy head.
“The message will spread soon enough,” Shawny says. “People talk—especially when their next meal is at stake.”
I know she’s probably right. This may take a while, but it’s a solid plan. If we can keep Traeger from seizing control of the people on this side of the barrier field, eventually we’ll win, because The City can’t survive long without our supplies.
