Chapter 32
Iam humming with nervous, excited energy. I'm sitting on our old, moth-eaten couch in Strayton, waiting for one or both of my siblings to get home. I was a little disappointed when I arrived to an empty house, but now I'm kind of excited to surprise them.
Getting here was strange. The type of nostalgia I felt coming into town wasn't the type you'd expect.
It was like seeing everything through a different lens.
As soon as I passed the familiar, deteriorated streets, I wanted to get out.
I had never felt this intense need to run before, even when our lives were at their hardest, when we were hungry and alone after dad left.
I had never fathomed there was any place to go.
Nothing has changed besides me, and I don't really know how to feel about that.
I hear the familiar click of the lock and stand up, giddy.
Linden plops his bags by the door and turns. He freezes, and his eyes widen as they connect with mine.
"What are you doing home!?" he manages to get out.
"Is that how you greet your dear old sister? Not a very welcoming homecoming, Lind," I smirk at him.
Then I rush at him before he's even taken off his dusty boots or jacket. I wrap him in the tightest hug I can manage, and he returns it.
He pulls back.
"Woah, look at you. You look… different."
I cock an eyebrow. I know I've filled out. Gone are the ribs that used to poke out angrily, and dark circles no longer haunt my eyes. My hair isn’t as frazzled. I feel better, despite the fact that chaos still rules in my life at The Centre. It's a different chaos.
"I'm going to take that as a compliment," I say, jabbing him in the stomach so he lets out a grunt.
"What are you doing here?! Is everything ok? Is Deacon OK?" Linden's anxiety seems to fill the room.
"Everything is fine. Deacon is fine. Sort of..." I pause. "Hey, by the way, a letter would've been nice—warning me the idiot was following me into the trenches. You must have known he was coming," I scold.
He shrugs.
"He'd mentioned it, but you know Deacon. Once he made up his mind it wouldn't have mattered what I said, no matter how stupid I told him he was being." He shakes his head. "Plus, if I'm being honest, I was kinda glad you'd have someone out there, someone to look out for you."
"I don't need that, and you know it," I chide.
"Anyway. What's up? Did they fire you for being an ultra pain in the ass?" He laughs, taking off his boots as I flop back down on the couch.
"Ha Ha. Very funny. No. But I do have a lot to tell you, and it's a fairly long story. I was just trying to figure out if I should make you wait until Willow's home, so I don't have to repeat myself," I say, fiddling with the stray threads that peek out of the couch's seams.
"How about you tell me now, then you can tell the child-appropriate version when Willow's home?"
Linden the logical. Gods, I missed him.
I tell him everything. About The Centre, and how differently the residents there live.
How cadets and citizens are still going missing everywhere, and no one seems overly concerned.
I tell him about how Leo found a growing plant in the ground.
I tell him about the hangings, and the family that was our first assignment in a town that had more growth than anyone thought possible.
I tell him about Farra and how we failed to protect her.
Then I tell him about the twins and their accounts of Soland and Zaphira, and how almost nothing is what we thought.
I tell him about Sibyella and the herbs, and the compass wall hanging.
I tell him every last detail that I've left out of my letters over the past few months.
Linden sits with his leg crossed over his knee, listening intently.
"What is the name of the root the twins are bringing back?"
I chuckle. Of course, this is the detail he wants to analyze first. Ever the scientist.
"It's called Lether root."
I'd finally remembered what it was called. Though I hadn't had another shift in the library to snoop for what the herb was used for yet.
Before we're able to continue, I hear a large thud at the door, and then a high-pitched squeal.
Willow's home.
I spring from the couch and launch myself at her. Willow gasps and lets out a half-sob half-laugh into my hair.
"What are you doing home?! Is Deacon ok? What happened?" she asks, out of breath.
I pull back so I can look her over. She looks healthy. Her cheeks are less gaunt, and there's even some colour to them. There are still dark circles under her eyes, but they aren't as alarming, and her eyes seem brighter. I breathe a sigh of relief.
"Everyone's fine, and Deacon sends his love. I'm just here to fill you guys in on some stuff and make sure you're ok."
Giving me a once-over she says, "You look different."
"So I've been told," I say, squeezing her arms.
I pull her to the couch, and at first I just need a minute to take in my siblings and the wholeness I feel with us all being together. I ask Willow about school and her friends, and anything new.
Linden clears his throat impatiently, and I scowl at him.
"What's going on?" Willow asks.
I take a deep breath. "I have a lot to tell you."
Another excited squeal comes out of her as she leans in.
Just like with Linden, it all comes out rushed and out of order but she listens intently, her sharp mind soaking in all the details like a problem she can't wait to solve. I don't leave out parts like I would have before. She deserves to know the full truth.
"You're sure it was called Lether root?" Linden asks seriously.
"Yes, I'm sure. You've heard of it?"
"Yeah, I stumbled on it during our phytotherapy class last year... I got bored because we have access to so few herbs now, and it was part of an assignment to research outdated medicines and their preferred alternatives…"
"Spit it out."
"It can do a bunch of things, depending on the patient.
It varies with severity. The research I was doing focused on the anti-anxiety properties of the root, but the side effects.
.." He pauses, letting out a deep breath.
"It has a range of neurocognitive dysfunction when taken: brain fog, mood changes––mostly docility, decreased mental functioning, and commonly, long-term memory loss. .." He purses his lips.
I nod. I had suspected, but anger still pulses through me at hearing it confirmed. I shouldn't be surprised, but somehow I still am.
"This is what Dad was trying to figure out," I mumble.
"What do you mean?" Willow asks, eyes brightening at the mention of our father.
"Dad was always going on about brainwashing and historical omission.
Honestly, I thought he was going mad at the end.
It was exhausting. But I remember more now.
Before Sibs gave me those herbs, I only remembered the crazier bits, or the more dramatic bits, like my brain was clinging to the loudest memories. "
Linden shakes his head, but he doesn't look surprised.
"So what are they hiding from us? Or trying to make us forget, exactly? None of this makes sense," Linden groans.
"I'm honestly not sure. It's like they've tried to erase entire parts of our history, within a generation.
I'm not sure why they'd lie about the new growth, or why they'd try to hide it.
I have no idea why they'd alter the compass and change its narrative.
Hiding entire deities... The most confusing part is why they claim the entire continent is in the same boat, when we now know Soland and Zaphira aren't. Why are we even fighting with them, when they could be helping us? "
Linden scrunches his face up.
"Can you get me some of these herbs? I don't think my memory loss is as bad as yours, but I definitely can't remember much from when we were kids.
.. and I'd like to." Our eyes meet, and there's a longing in them that I recognize.
It's hard when people you love are gone, and you don't have strong enough memories of them to comfort you.
"I'll try, but we don't have much time before we go."
"Where are you going?" Willow frowns.
"You mean where are we going?" I say with a smirk, waiting for it to click.
"Maple, what do you mean we? I'm not joining the army now. Who will look after Willow?" He demands.
On the other side of the spectrum, Willow's eyes twinkle with excitement.
"You're not joining anything. You're not fighting for a country that would strip us of our basic human rights, who would starve us, murder us, manipulate us... keep us in the dark. And neither am I. We're getting out of here."
Linden's eyes narrow on me, as he folds his arms.
Willow's smirk widens into a deadly grin.
I lean forward, balancing my arms on my knees.
"We're going to Zaphira," I say, just above a whisper. "And we have a lot to go over before I leave tomorrow."
Over the next few hours, we fall into a familiar rhythm. I break down the journey for them; what they'll need to prepare, how long it will take, and how hard it's going to be.
Figuring out Willow's needs is the hardest bit.
There's only so much dust she can breathe in at one time before we start to have major issues.
Linden fights me on several points, but I'm surprised he doesn't push back more on leaving.
I tell him a little about what I've heard about Zaphira—about their technology and how they live very much like how Arcadya used too, which I think helps entice him.
Who wouldn't want to leave this dust bowl if they had the chance?
Where we're struggling, though, are all the unknowns. I don't even know yet how many people are coming. I haven't secured our passage with the twins, and that part sends Linden into an absolute spiral.
"It's not going to be a problem," I say, exhaustion settling in as I flop back on the couch.