needed a plan. My hands shook as I studied Penelope’s rough sketch. A week away, on my own. I had to gather supplies without drawing suspicion, and I still needed a map from the before. Even if I could reach Sezomp, there’s no guarantee I’d be able to find Fanno Creek. Most of the signs from before had been torn down and reused, or rusted over to be unreadable.
“Are you crazy?” Trevor asked when I came down for breakfast the next day. I’d slept in, better than I had in days.
“What?” I asked.
“You went to see her again, after Jacob told you not to.”
“She’s my friend, and they’re torturing her. I had to see if she was okay.”
“She attacked you.”
“That wasn’t her fault. She’s starving, because the rebels won’t feed her. If she’s dangerous, it’s only because of how they’re treating her.”
“It’s worse than that,” Trevor whispered, leaning in closer. “The guards, they say they don’t remember what happened. They think you compulsed them. People are already talking. They don’t trust you, and now they don’t trust the other chosen as well.”
Had I compulsed them? Could I compulse humans? Only if I had significant quantities of elixir, Master Svboda had told me once, but I’d barely consumed a few drops of second-hand elixir.
“What do you expect,” I said, “from men who wear tinfoil hats? Those superstitious assholes are afraid of everything.”
“Don’t you get it, you’ve made yourself an enemy here. They could kick you out.”
Fine, I thought. I was leaving anyway. I knew Trevor was just upset because he was worried about me, but I was also still pissed about him for going through my things.
I’d always thought he was on my side, first, but now I realized that may not be true anymore. I couldn’t count on him to defend me, or side with me. I couldn’t depend on anyone.
“I can’t believe you’re okay with attacking the compounds,” I said, changing the subject. “People could die. Don’t you remember Algrave; Mrs. Gibbon’s strawberry rhubarb pie, playing hide and seek in the apple groves, spending Saturdays at the library with a good book – do you regret everything? Because I don’t. You’re going to take all that peace and comfort away.”
“It doesn’t matter, if it’s built on a lie. Something has to change.”
“Not like this,” I said.
“Promise me you’ll keep your head down, at least for awhile, until I can convince the others you’re on our side.”
I bit my lip, then lied to his face.
I knew what he was like.
“I promise,” I said.
“Good,” he said. “You don’t have that many allies in here. And curate Marcus is going back to the citadel.”
“He is? Where is he?”
“He left already.”
I turned and raced towards the entrance, leaving Trevor speechless. I caught up with Marcus at the main entrance, gathering his sack. He was wearing his curate outfit again, beneath more rugged travel clothes.
“You have to stop this,” I said. “It’s madness. You’re a curate, you’re supposed to take care of people, their health and well-being.”
“It’s out of my hands now,” he said.
“What about the attack on the wedding, did you condone that also? Violence goes against your creed.”
“I didn’t know about that attack,” he said. “And using you like a scapegoat like that, I’d never have agreed to it. But there are too many people living here now, they’re getting restless, and they’re burning up with anger. If we don’t find an outlet for them soon, something bad is going to happen.”
“So we go to war, because they’re bored and restless?”
“All they want is peace, freedom.”
“Don’t they have it?”
“No. As long as the elites rule, even while living out here, we still feel the king’s authority. We are outlaws, outcasts; in the wilderness, there are no laws, we are not protected, we don’t get the weekly elixir, life is harsh and brutal. We can’t go outside because of the ash, or the elite, or the slagpaw, they live in fear every day.”
“So how is turning off the machines going to help? It’ll just create more chaos and violence.”
“I agree, I’m not in favor. I’ve told them as much. Unfortunately, I can’t stop it. You overestimate my powers of influence. I trade in information only, and it’s risky enough for me to return to the citadel. If I’m caught, I will be killed.”
Something nagged at my mind, and I realized what it was... I knew someone in the citadel who dealt with information. He’d called himself an information specialist once. The technician.