that’s your doing, isn’t it?”
He looks at me, his face very still.
“In part,” he says after a moment. “It is. You failed. Did you know that? The Minister lives.”
I stare back at him.
“Yes,” I say. “I know. The bomb failed.”
I am dead. But then, I have been dead from the moment he came to me in the train station, haven’t I? I take a deep breath.
“I—I watched the Minister. I watched him rise to speak. When he did I looked up at the sky and it was so blue, like another world, a better one, was there behind it, and I thought, I’ll be there soon, I’ll be there forever and everyone I know will be there forever too, and then I—” I stop.
“Then what?”
I shake my head. I’m done talking. I’ve said too much, more than I have ever said to anyone, but when I look at him, I see that he wants to know more. He wants to hear my story. I don’t know why.
I just know no one else ever has.
“I didn’t want it,” I whisper. “Not death, not forever with the Saints. I didn’t want any of it. I never . . . it was what I had to do but not—”
“What you wanted.”
I stare at him.
“No,” I finally say. “It wasn’t. But now I’m—now I’m here. If I’d just gone back, if I could—”
“They’d kill you,” he says. “And you know it because you’re here. Your People won’t rule with any kindness if they ever destroy Keran Berj, at least not for others. They’ll save it all for the land.”
“And you think everyone is treated kindly now? Have you seen what Keran Berj does to those he claims to love?”
“Yes,” he says slowly, and turns away, looks out the window. “I have.”
I take a deep breath. It is time, and it was foolish of me to think I could ever escape this moment.
“Will you—if you could just have the Guards come and get me now, get it over with. If you could—if you could have it end quickly,” I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking. Trying to not sound like I am begging.
But I am.
He turns and looks at me, surprise on his face.
“Do you—you really think anyone is after you? You maimed the Minister of Culture and nothing more. You think the Minister of Culture truly matters to Keran Berj? You think he can’t be replaced by any number of people?”
“But you’re . . . ”
“I know who I am.”
“And the Guards. They have special orders about the People. I’ve seen them come to the Hills. They’ve tried to kill us all.”
“Oh, they’d kill you if they found you,” Jerusha says. “But Keran Berj doesn’t want your blood. He wants the person who killed the Minister of Defense. He wants the person who took the codes the Minister carried, the ones that open all the doors to all of Keran Berj’s secret lairs.”
He smiles, and it is a horrible thing, crooked and furiously, savagely angry.
“He wants me.”
CHAPTER 27
T he train slows down once more and Jerusha sits up straighter, fingering his collar again.
We’ve reached another village but this one is smaller than the last, smaller than any of the others I’ve seen. Smaller and more desperate, hands pressed against the train windows before we’ve even stopped.
I watch Jerusha, but he does nothing, gestures for no one. He doesn’t even buy anything, just keeps touching his collar, and so I take out the last of the coins Chris gave me.
I lean toward the window, toward the outstretched hands pressed against it, and Jerusha puts his hand on my arm.
“We aren’t supposed to stop here,” he whispers.
I look at him and realize he is afraid. Under the softness that hides a heart that would let him watch his parents die, under the iciness and frighteningly, sharply acute tongue—under all of that is something human.
He fears for himself, for he is trying to escape as well, and for now I am safe with him because of that.
I must also show him that he cannot rule me. I am done being what others will.
I lower the window and argue with a tall, bone-thin man over the
He looks at me, his face very still.
“In part,” he says after a moment. “It is. You failed. Did you know that? The Minister lives.”
I stare back at him.
“Yes,” I say. “I know. The bomb failed.”
I am dead. But then, I have been dead from the moment he came to me in the train station, haven’t I? I take a deep breath.
“I—I watched the Minister. I watched him rise to speak. When he did I looked up at the sky and it was so blue, like another world, a better one, was there behind it, and I thought, I’ll be there soon, I’ll be there forever and everyone I know will be there forever too, and then I—” I stop.
“Then what?”
I shake my head. I’m done talking. I’ve said too much, more than I have ever said to anyone, but when I look at him, I see that he wants to know more. He wants to hear my story. I don’t know why.
I just know no one else ever has.
“I didn’t want it,” I whisper. “Not death, not forever with the Saints. I didn’t want any of it. I never . . . it was what I had to do but not—”
“What you wanted.”
I stare at him.
“No,” I finally say. “It wasn’t. But now I’m—now I’m here. If I’d just gone back, if I could—”
“They’d kill you,” he says. “And you know it because you’re here. Your People won’t rule with any kindness if they ever destroy Keran Berj, at least not for others. They’ll save it all for the land.”
“And you think everyone is treated kindly now? Have you seen what Keran Berj does to those he claims to love?”
“Yes,” he says slowly, and turns away, looks out the window. “I have.”
I take a deep breath. It is time, and it was foolish of me to think I could ever escape this moment.
“Will you—if you could just have the Guards come and get me now, get it over with. If you could—if you could have it end quickly,” I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking. Trying to not sound like I am begging.
But I am.
He turns and looks at me, surprise on his face.
“Do you—you really think anyone is after you? You maimed the Minister of Culture and nothing more. You think the Minister of Culture truly matters to Keran Berj? You think he can’t be replaced by any number of people?”
“But you’re . . . ”
“I know who I am.”
“And the Guards. They have special orders about the People. I’ve seen them come to the Hills. They’ve tried to kill us all.”
“Oh, they’d kill you if they found you,” Jerusha says. “But Keran Berj doesn’t want your blood. He wants the person who killed the Minister of Defense. He wants the person who took the codes the Minister carried, the ones that open all the doors to all of Keran Berj’s secret lairs.”
He smiles, and it is a horrible thing, crooked and furiously, savagely angry.
“He wants me.”
CHAPTER 27
T he train slows down once more and Jerusha sits up straighter, fingering his collar again.
We’ve reached another village but this one is smaller than the last, smaller than any of the others I’ve seen. Smaller and more desperate, hands pressed against the train windows before we’ve even stopped.
I watch Jerusha, but he does nothing, gestures for no one. He doesn’t even buy anything, just keeps touching his collar, and so I take out the last of the coins Chris gave me.
I lean toward the window, toward the outstretched hands pressed against it, and Jerusha puts his hand on my arm.
“We aren’t supposed to stop here,” he whispers.
I look at him and realize he is afraid. Under the softness that hides a heart that would let him watch his parents die, under the iciness and frighteningly, sharply acute tongue—under all of that is something human.
He fears for himself, for he is trying to escape as well, and for now I am safe with him because of that.
I must also show him that he cannot rule me. I am done being what others will.
I lower the window and argue with a tall, bone-thin man over the
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