Chapter 35
I make a thin squeak.
He nods. “That’s what I thought.” He leans forward, drumming his fingers. “That gives us fifteen minutes or so to talk about what’s important. We’re not losing arable land to any creature known to the Valley.”
The charcoal of my pencil snaps. “Pardon?”
“What I’m about to say doesn’t leave this room,” he says, each word weighted, heavy as stones. “Not unless you want us both riding the basket up Eden’s Gate as soon as that tablet is charged.”
A shiver runs through me, cold and quick. I nod, my tongue thick in my mouth.
He glances toward the front of the house, the muscles in his neck straining as he listens. Only when quiet answers does he speak again, softer than before. “The Council’s been saying it’s wild animals hunting us in the fields and near the hives just east of the Gate.”
I nod again. It hadn’t taken long for fear to spread, thick and quiet as smoke, after those areas were closed off. Hunger followed.
“But there’s no animals out there.” Augustus’s voice drops again, now so low I have to strain to hear him. “No scat, no tracks, not a single print. No living creature has risked the abandoned area since the last rainfall, at least.”
My breath catches, and I bite my lip to stifle the sound. I suspected the Council was lying when I saw Peter’s body, but no animals at all? “Jarek said—”
“I know what he said.” Augustus’s response is harsh and quick. He runs his hands through silver-shot hair, his fingers trembling just enough to make my pulse race. “I went out there myself, Rose. I saw it with my own eyes. There’s no animal sign. Not a rabbit, not a deer, not even a damn fox.”
I picture the now-abandoned swath of farmland beside the Wall where two Guardians lost their lives eight months prior. I shudder, and Augustus nods.
“If I didn’t know better,” he says, “I’d say the animals are as scared of that place as we are.” He seems to want to say more but grimaces instead. He shouldn’t have gone to investigate. We both know it. The rules are clear. Only the Guardians are allowed in the closed fields.
I open my mouth, but the words stick, tangle. “What’s out there, then?”
For a moment, I think he won’t answer. His gaze drifts past me, toward the door.
Finally, he speaks. “Something terrible. And Jarek wants it that way. You see who he’s been Harvesting, don’t you?
The people who push back against the new rules or who might be able to tell us something about what’s really going on. ”
Exactly what Meryl and the others have been saying. He disposes of anyone who gets in his way.
“Your mother crossed Jarek, and she and your brother were taken as a lesson to the rest of us,” Augustus says, his voice heavy.
I sit up straight. “Did you see? Did you see what happened to my mother? You were very close to her.”
His face falls. “I didn’t. She was standing, and then she wasn’t, leaving your brother there holding that knife.” His forehead grows heavy. “But I know Jarek has something to do with it. He has an agenda we cannot see. I don’t imagine your gran or my father will be allowed to stay much longer.”
The enormity of it overwhelms me. “You must tell the Record Keeper.”
Augustus adjusts his chair with a screech. “I don’t trust David. He’s not strong enough to stand up to Jarek. And if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll swear you’re lying.” He looks me in the eyes. “And they’d probably Harvest me anyway.”
He’s placed an incredible amount of trust in me. More than I probably deserve, given my history. I nod and pinch the webbing near my thumb, sewing what I’ve just learned with what Gryphon said about his father wanting me in their house.
“There’s more,” Augustus says.
My eyes fly to his face.
“I think Jarek’s hoarding food, distributing extra to the people in his favor. The Guardian Houses I’ve entered to work on their plumbing seem to have more on their counters than the rest of us.”
“You’re right,” I say. “I’ve seen it for myself.”
My new friends were spot-on: Jarek is a danger to us all. He’s destroying the paradise and peace we’ve built in Noah’s Valley.
“I’m only telling you the truth of this because of what you’ve done for Wendy and Hephaestus,” Augustus says gruffly.
“And because I trusted your mother. She was a good and honest woman. You should know what you’re getting into, and I’ve got a piece of advice to accompany that.
” He leans forward, pressing down on the table with his pointer finger.
“When you’ve got nothing else, search for anger.
It’s an excellent companion, at least for the short term.
Doesn’t need to eat or sleep or shit.” He leans back abruptly, holding up his hands. “And that’s my debt repaid.”
“May the Wall always protect you,” I say. Our sincerest expression of gratitude has never felt more fitting.
Something in his face softens, a crack in the stone. “Please be careful, Rose. This Council doesn’t like questions. They like answers even less. And please, don’t go to the closed-off area of the Wall. Whatever the truth may be, there’s a reason the animals avoid it.”
I nod, my throat tight, and pack up my census materials.
Augustus seems about to say more, but he’s interrupted by Wendy’s strangled cry.
Augustus is up before I can speak. I follow him out the door, the sunlight temporarily blinding me.
I blink and see Lino Chihuly of the Glassworker House running past. He clutches the limp body of his son to his chest. Without thinking, I sprint after them, the soles of my shoes pounding dry earth, Augustus cursing behind me.
The path leading to the Apothecary cottage is winding, and villagers step aside as Lino barrels through. “Please,” he keeps saying, “please, please, please,” in a rhythm that matches his desperate footfalls.
I know before we reach the clinic. I know from the blisters at the boy’s nose and mouth, visible when I catch up to his father. I know from the stillness of the boy’s dangling hand. I know because I’ve seen this before.
The Vex is back.