Page 68 of The Infinite Glade
“Relax, you’re coming out of it,” she said, but Minho wasn’t going through what soldiers called thedelirious daze,from being beaten to a pulp. He was alive becauseKit was alive.
“Kit . . . from Hell,” Minho sputtered. “I’m . . .”
Kit beamed with an inner pride. “Yeah . . . escaping Hell is what got me arrested and brought here. I found a tunnel, stabbed some Grief Bearer in the sewer, and would have made it out if I could have killed him and worn his cloak. But that damn cloak was made out of something thicker than hog’s hide.” Kit gently wiped Minho’s face with a rag so he could see better. “Couldn’t get my knife all the way through. Lucky for me, they loaded up for war and brought me along.”
“I think you mean unlucky for you, lucky for us,” Orange replied, tightening her boots.
Minho took slow, shallow breaths and held his side, applying pressure—maybe he could snap them back into place. “The Great Master’s cloak is like that. Some sort of rubber . . . cloth . . .” He coughed. “It’s . . .”
“Take it easy, we need a plan,” Orange said. “Save your breath. I’m going to put these on you, okay?” She hung the strap of a gun around Minho’s broken shoulder; even the weight of it felt like heavy joy. From this point on, if he died—he’d die like a soldier, fighting.
“Your stab wound eventually killed the Great Master, Kit.” Minho couldn’t tell if it was laughter that escaped his lungs or just more broken-up coughs. “That man . . . I found him with the cloak you’re talking about, stabbed. He’s dead, now.”
“I killed the Great Master?” Kit’s voice cracked.
Minho nodded as best he could. “You’re the best soldier I know.” His face was too swollen to smile, but inside, Minho felt more pride and joy and love than he’d experienced in a long time. “Kit . . .” He tried to say the next phrase as loudly as he could, hoping the young soldier heard it clearly.
“I’m proud of you.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Flaring Justice
Ximena had read about cave systems in the same military stories of the past where she first learned about grenades. But as she followed Cian and Erros toward the naturally carved-out section of cliffs, her feet slowed beneath her. The size of its entrance looked so much bigger than her imagination had previously provided. A crooked, jagged, gaping mouth of darkness, taller than any building she’d ever seen.
Someone bumped into her from behind.
“Sorry,” Isaac said. “You good?”
“Watch it.” Ximena traced her fingers all along her backpack to make sure nothing had fallen out. “Important stuff in here, you know.” She couldn’t care less if the Villa’s Cure leaked out—she was more worried about the weapons she’d grabbed from the pile in the back of the Berg when no was looking. She’d also stolen a light-flare, now in her back pocket. Cian and Erros might be dumb enough to go into another’s Village without weapons, but she certainly wasn’t.
“I guess this is it,” Isaac said sarcastically. He looked up at the massive entrance of stone—or lack of stone—probably thinking of Frypan’s stories about the Maze, built inside of a giant cavern. “Looks a little creepy.”
“Do we have to go in there?” Miyoko asked. “Maybe Jackie and I should stay out here, guard the Berg.”
Frypan wasn’t having any of that. “We’d better stick together—only way I know we’ll all be safe.” He held out his arm to Miyoko and she joined him, step for step. They entered the darkness of the opening. Erros lit up another one of his weird herb packets.
We can’t let the truth stay buried,Ximena’s inner-knowing shouted at her.
“Whatever that is, it stinks,” Jackie said to Erros.
For the second time, Ximena agreed with her. “Yeah, ¿Qué es eso?”
“Coltsfoot and lavender, for the lungs. It’s a different type of air down there, I’m telling you.” A breeze swept the smoke of his cigar away from the group, but despite the cool air, Erros had what looked like sweat gathering on his forehead. He wiped it away once he noticed Ximena looking at it. “The families you’re about to meet have lived for generations as if they were the only survivors of the solar flares and the virus that came afterward. About twenty years ago, someone got the bright idea to tell them that wasn’t the case.” He stopped to set the air tank down and get a better grip. “It didn’t go well.”
“That’s an understatement,” Cian said, turning back to the others. “We’ve been on the cusp of a war within the Sequencers. Typical civil-war stuff. History, basically.”
Isaac shuffled the box in his hands—the glass containers clinked against each other. “Why lie to begin with? Why not just tell them the truth from the start?”
“Yeah, what was the point?” Jackie asked.
The islanders were so naive.
Cian fixed his red scarf around his neck and gave Isaac and Jackie a look like they’d just asked the dumbest question possible to humankind. “What do you think would have happened if everyone who worked at WICKED knew there was some great safe haven and they weren’t invited?” Isaac and the others went quiet. “No one wants to be on the outside. That’s what gives any society its power.” He traded his box of supplies from the Villa for the second air tank Erros had trouble carrying. “Here.”
He shouldn’t have been lighting that coltsfoot cigar so close to an air tank, anyway. Everything from the Villa was flammable. Ximena was counting on it.
“You remembered the Cure, right?” Cian pointed at her.
