The Scourge (A.G. Henley) - By A.G. Henley Page 0,100

“Later, I promise.”

I wander around the main cavern—it’s practically empty now—trying to work up the courage to go outside. I know I should face whatever I’ll find in the forest. But every time I think of getting confirmation that Peree's dead, I feel sick.

The stench finally drives me to the mouth of the cave, seeking semi-fresh air. I remember the days, not long ago, when every step toward the Scourge was torture. I keep telling myself it’s the poison we need to eradicate, not the sick ones. It’s working . . . sort of.

Voices approach—Fox and Pinion. They must be coming from the meeting with the Lofties. Maybe they’ll know something about Peree. I try to slow my anxious breathing.

“How did it go?” I ask.

“As well as could be expected,” Fox says. “They’re bitter, we’re bitter. It’ll take time.”

“Who did you talk with?”

Pinion answers. “Two women, Breeze and Blaze, and a few of the men. I thought they carried themselves well, especially considering one of the women lost a son in the Reckoning.”

I reach back to steady myself against the ice-cold wall. He can't be dead. He can't be. Grief twists my gut. I run out of the caves. The late-afternoon sun hangs heavy on my shoulders as I stumble through the clearing. Groundlings speak to me, but I ignore them.

I end up on the path to the water hole. Birds sing around me as if nothing is wrong. I find the sled, and crumple against it. But the sled reminds me of Peree, and thinking about him feels like being stabbed.

Two voices move down the walkway above, one male, one female. At first I think I’m imagining them. That I want to hear his voice so bad I’m conjuring it. But then I hear it again.

“Peree!” I yell. Silence. Did he not hear me?

“Fennel." He doesn’t sound right at all. There’s no trace of the warmth and humor I’ve grown to love. The knots that were loosening inside me suddenly cinch up again.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Fine. You?”

“Not really.”

“Sorry to hear that.” He sounds distant and completely uninterested, as if he’s talking to a stranger. Or worse, to a Groundling.

“I thought you were dead." I can't keep the quiver out of my voice.

“Not quite yet.”

“Can we talk for a minute? Alone?” He's quiet for so long I’m not sure he’s going to answer. “Peree?”

I hear him speak to his companion in a low voice, then one set of footsteps follows the walkway back toward the clearing.

“I’ll meet you at the platform by the water hole,” he says to me.

What's wrong with him? I chew on my nails as I walk, but I stop quickly. They’re filthy. Water breaks on the shore of the water hole, and a few geese honk. It sounds deserted, but it probably won’t be for long. Peree steps onto the platform above my head.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” he asks.

“Can you come down here?”

He hesitates. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Then I’ll come up, if it makes you more comfortable,” I offer.

“Always the brave one,” he mutters. I frown, hurt by his tone. “I’ll come down.”

I can’t stop fidgeting as I listen to him release the rope ladder and climb down. Why is he acting so strange? What does it mean? Is it because of the Reckoning? Does he no longer feel the same about me?

“Peree, what’s wrong?” I ask, the moment I hear his feet touch the ground. He grunts in pain, and I wonder if his leg is any better.

He ignores my question. “Why did you think I was dead?”

I tell him what Pinion said.

“They were talking about my grandmother, Breeze. Shrike’s mother. You heard Kadee yelling for me to come to him when she saw he was hit.”

It takes me a moment to realize what that means. “Then . . . Shrike is dead? Oh, Peree, I’m so sorry.” I reach out to him, but find only empty space. I drop my hands to my sides. “Aloe, too,” I say. Shrike might not have been my father, not really, not in the ways that count. But I can’t help feeling like I lost two parents in the Reckoning.

“I heard. I’m sorry.” His voice is a little kinder, and it gives me courage.

“I thought–”

What did I think? That we’d run off into the sunset together? That our little fairytale could have a happy ending, like one of Kadee’s stories? He’s a Lofty. I’m a Groundling. I knew all