Read Online Grace by Elizabeth Scott - Free Book Online

What did you do? Draw maps in the dirt for Guards in order to get enough food to make your stomach stop shrieking in protest for a day or two? ”
    I stare at him.
    “It happens at times, and besides, we all know you’re starving,” he says. “How can you not, living around all those trees? No proper ground to plant, no spaces to stay in and work the soil, make it your own.”
    “The earth belongs to itself, and I would never—I’m not like you.”
    “But you’re here, aren’t you? ” he says, and leans forward, looks into my eyes. I draw back, but not before I see they are brown, like I wish my own were.
    “I wouldn’t—if I’d known you were—”
    “What? If you’d known I was to travel with you, you’d have stayed behind?”
    “Yes.”
    He blinks. “You could have . . . . you could have gone home? ”
    I swallow. “The People . . . we don’t take life or those of others lightly, for we are not to judge anyone’s path or worth. We are not like you.”
    He grins, laughter stretching his mouth wide, though he holds the sound inside, muting it to a silent push of air. His breath smells like mint.
    “No?” he says, and I think of the Rorys discussing their fights, their kills. Of how the People would sing the numbers of the dead. Of how I learned the best ways to kill my target and as many of those around him as I could.
    “We believe in what we fight for,” I say. “We fight for freedom, to live as we will. All else must be set aside for that.”
    “Freedom depends on setting aside everything in its name,” he says.
    “That’s what I said.”
    “No,” he says. “That’s what Keran Berj said right after he said God told him he was to rule for a thousand years.”
    “That’s not the same thing.” It can’t be. I don’t want it to be.
    “Yes,” he says. “It is. It’s exactly the same. You kill, we kill, we all mourn the dead and then send more off to die.”
    “Not you.”
    “No,” he says. “Of course I don’t. You’ve heard all about me, after all. Everyone has. But you—do you feel bad for those who have been killed? ”
    “I—” I say, and then stop. I know what he is doing. I know how Keran Berj works, how he tries to twist things around. He has everyone except the People following him. And here, next to me, is the one who killed his own family for him. His voice is not the truth, and Jerusha does not know I was an Angel.
    “You were supposed to die, weren’t you?” he says, touching his collar again. “And now that you haven’t, you’re not worthy to go back to the Hills. Not worthy of living in the dirt. How do they do it? How do they get you Angels to talk like that? To believe that? ”
    “I’m not ...” I say, and trail off when he looks at me because I see that he knows. He knows everything about me. What I was.
    What I didn’t do.

CHAPTER 26
    H ow do you know about . . . about me?” I say, and there is no strength in my voice anymore.
    “Why else would you be here? ” he says. “If death was what you wanted, you wouldn’t have gone to Christaphor. You wouldn’t be on this train. You failed at your calling?”
    “I—No. Yes.”
    “Both?”
    I force myself to stay still. To not flinch. I can see why Keran Berj loves him so, this cold boy. “I know all about your world. I know all about you.”
    “Of course you do,” he says quietly, and touches his collar once more, fingers pressing against the button that holds it closed, against the wound that lies underneath. “You were trained for it. I know that.”
    “I’ve seen what you’ve created,” I tell him. “I’ve been to one of your villages. I’ve seen a silent crowd watch as someone with power came, a Minister of Culture. I saw them say nothing about how round he was, fat from food that had to be given to Keran Berj no matter what because it’s why he says his God wants him to have. I saw a crowd that looked and said nothing.”
    “They would die if they said anything.”
    “And