that they shared, and that I had never encountered.
“No point in going past Evan’s place,” Piper said. “If they took Hannah alive, then they’ll have got him, too.”
Zoe didn’t look up from the rabbit. She stretched it out on its back, grasped its back legs with one hand, and ran her knife down the line of exposed white fur. The stomach fell open like two hands parting.
“Wouldn’t they pick up Jess, first?” she said.
“No. She never dealt with Hannah directly—she should be safe. But Evan was Hannah’s contact. If she’s taken, Evan’s done for.”
The resistance network on the mainland had been larger and more intricate than I’d ever realized. At how many other safe houses did broken doors now swing onto empty rooms, the latches smashed? The network was like a woolen sweater with several loose threads, each one threatening to unravel the entire thing.
“Depends how long Hannah held out for,” Zoe said. “She might’ve bought him some time to get clear. Julia lasted three days when they took her.”
“Hannah’s not as strong as Julia—we can’t assume she managed to last that long.”
“Sally had no contact with Hannah, either. And some of the western cells should still be intact,” Zoe went on. “They reported straight to you—there were no links with the eastern network.”
I spoke up. “I never realized how much of the resistance was going on here, on the mainland.”
“You thought the island was the only thing that mattered?” Zoe said.
I shrugged. “That was the main thing, wasn’t it?”
Piper pursed his lips. “The thing about the island—it mattered that it existed. It was a symbol—not just for the resistance, but for the Council, too. It was a signal that there could be a different way. But it was never going to be big enough for all of us. Even in those final months, we had to turn down some requests from refugees—until we’d built up our capacity. Added to the fleet, sorted out the supply situation.” He shook his head grimly. “It was never going to be the final answer.”
Zoe interrupted him. “Most people on the island did nothing. They felt like great rebels just for living out there, but that was it. They might have joined the guards or done a few shifts in the lookout posts, but not many of them were actually actively contributing—coming to the mainland to help with rescues; running the safe-house network; monitoring the Council’s movements. Even some of those in the Assembly with Piper—they were happy enough to sit about in the Assembly Hall, looking at maps and talking about strategy, but you wouldn’t catch half of them making the crossing. The mainland was where the hard work still happened—but once they’d made it to the island, most people never came back.”
“I wouldn’t have put it like that, but Zoe’s right,” Piper said. “A lot of people on the island were complacent. They thought being there was enough. It was those on the mainland, or working the courier ships between the two, who did most of it. Zoe did more than most, and she’s never even been to the island.”
I looked up quickly. “Really? I was sure that you had,” I said.
“They never wanted any Alphas setting foot on the place—even I understood why.” Zoe was hunched over the rabbit. She pulled the fur from the flesh as if she was peeling off a glove. “Why did you think I’d been there?”
“I guess because you dream about the sea all the time.”
I didn’t realize I knew it, until I heard myself say it. In all those nights that we’d slept close to one another, I’d shared her dreams, the same way I’d shared her water flask or her blanket. And her dreams were all of the ocean. Perhaps that’s why it hadn’t struck me before: I was used to it, after my years of dreaming of the island. Used to the sea’s restlessness, and its shifting register of grays, blacks, and blues. In Zoe’s dreams, though, there hadn’t been any island, nor any land at all: just the churning sea.
One minute Zoe was squatting by the fire, the rabbit’s flaccid body in her hands; the next her knife was at my stomach.
“You’ve been snooping in my dreams?”
“Stand down,” said Piper. He didn’t shout, but it was a command nonetheless.
The blade didn’t budge. Her other hand had grasped a handful of my hair, her knuckles jabbing against my skull, holding me in place. The blade had gone straight through my sweater and shirt,