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She smiled gratefully, reaching out to clasp Glass’s hand one more time before turning and striding purposefully away down a southern corridor, the word unpleasant seeming to linger in the air behind her like a noxious cloud.
Glass shuddered and turned to walk quickly to the sculleries. As much as she dreaded this, it was much better that they found out as quickly as possible. There had to be a way they could get out of it…
She turned a corner, passing the lines of hung laundry, half of it seemingly abandoned, baskets heaped with wet linens, then poked her head inside the steaming scullery. A quick glance showed Lina scrubbing chamber pots along with a few other girls, cloths tied tight over their disgusted faces, but no one else familiar.
A giggle echoed down the alley behind her. She spun around, following the sound to a little bombed-out niche in the massive wall, where two girls stood tangled up in each other. Octavia’s hands were loosening Anna’s curly braid, Anna’s fingers dancing up Octavia’s spine… and they were kissing like it was the greatest discovery of their lifetimes.
In any other situation, seeing Octavia look so happy would’ve filled Glass’s heart with joy. But right now, all she could see was the upcoming Pairing Ceremony. Anna forced to watch as Octavia was shoved into a strange man’s arms… a man whom Earth had “willed” to do what he liked with her.
Stomach churning, Glass cleared her throat.
Anna and Octavia broke apart with a lurch, terror mirrored on each of their faces until they saw who was standing in front of them, and they doubled over with relief and a wonderfully mundane kind of embarrassment.
“We need to talk,” Glass said. “Quickly.”
Both girls went pale as Glass recited the whole sordid plan: the pairings, the ceremony, officially being inducted as Protectors. She kept her gaze cast down at the rocky floor, too horrified by Soren’s intentions to even look them in the eye as she told them.
When she was done, she glanced up at Octavia, and to her surprise, saw more determination than fear in the younger girl’s face.
“It’s time, Glass,” Octavia said. “You know it is.”
“Wells hasn’t signaled that it’s time yet.”
Octavia gripped Glass’s wrist. “No. You have to kill her. You’re the only one close enough to do it.”
“I…” Glass felt bile rising in her throat. She was disgusted by the Protectors, but kill Soren? She looked to Anna, but Anna was staring at her feet. Glass swallowed. “I think that would raise too many alarms. We just need to get our people out. That’s the only priority.”
Octavia’s hand slid from Glass’s wrist, her face falling.
Glass stepped forward. “Have you thought any more about your river plan and using the boats to escape?”
Octavia nodded. “As long as we can manufacture some kind of distraction, we’ll be able to row far enough away that we’ll be out of gunshot range. They could take a wagon and try to catch up, but there’s no road along the river. I think we’ll make it.”
“We need to find Wells and let him know what’s happening. We need to escape tonight, before the Pairing Ceremony happens tomorrow morning. Can you find him?” Glass asked.
“Don’t worry.” Octavia’s voice was firm. “I’ll figure something out.”
Looking at the fierceness in her eyes, Glass believed her. After everything they’d been through, everything they’d survived, none of them were going down without a fight.
CHAPTER 24
Wells
When they’d gotten back to the Stone that morning, Wells had dragged Graham off to the kennels, just as he’d been asked to do. But clearly Graham’s insubordination had put the Protectors on alert, because they immediately whisked Wells to a cramped, isolated room. They’d slammed the door and left him in there for hours. Based on the hunger rumbling in his stomach, it was at least late afternoon by now.
Sitting in the dark, alone for the first time since they’d arrived four days ago, Wells had finally come to a realization: They couldn’t afford to wait for the right time to escape. There would never be a right time. These people were unpredictable, and that’s what made them so dangerous. He had to talk to the other recruits, the people who had been captured from other places, and try to convince some of them to rise up against the Protectors with them. It was their best chance. It was their only chance.
Now he just needed to get out of this damn room.
His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, so it was painful when the door finally creaked open and Oak walked in, holding a lantern.
He’d seen hatred on Oak’s face before. He knew it well, that paper-thin veneer of calm the Protector wore, covering a deep well of violence underneath. But the way Oak was staring at the ground right now was the most frightening expression Wells had ever seen. With the lantern light flickering on his hollowed-out face, Oak looked more demon than man.
“We wanted you to be a Protector,” Oak growled, his voice low and dangerous. “We wanted to trust you and welcome you into our fold.”
“I had nothing to do with what Graham did,” Wells said, willing his voice steady. “You have to know that I’m—”
Oak lunged for him, closing the distance between them in one great stride, and gripped Wells’s throat with a hand as rough and relentless as a hangman’s noose. Wells saw spots and fought to breathe. The lantern light in front of him started to fade out, his vision blurring. With his remaining ounce of strength, he kicked his legs out, trying to free himself from Oak’s grasp.
The door behind them clanged open and Oak released him suddenly. Wells fell to the ground and tumbled over, gripping his own throat and desperately sucking in air with tight, rasping breaths.
“It’s all right,” a woman’s voice soothed from a few feet away. “No harm done.”
Wells looked up, thinking the words were directed at him, but blinked hard at the strange sight of Oak kneeling before the High Protector. Soren was stroking the old man’s head like a dog, and he had his eyes closed.
“You may go,” she told Oak, and the Protector rose and left the room in one smooth, silent movement. He didn’t seem to give Soren’s order even a millisecond of thought; he just obeyed it.
Soren picked up the lantern Oak had discarded. Where the candle’s flame had rendered Oak demonic, it made the High Protector look serene and angelic. But he reminded himself to remain on his guard. She’s worse than any of them, Wells reminded himself. She’s the one pulling all the strings.
