invented during the long hours of sorts that didn’t require my full attention. Ky figured out the code and changed it slightly when he wrote me back. Each time, we build upon the original code a little, changing and evolving it to make it harder to read. It’s not a perfect system—I’m sure the code can be broken—but it’s the best we can do.
The closer I get to the water, the more I realize that something is wrong.
A thick cluster of black birds has gathered out near the edge of the first dock, and another group of them is congregated farther down the shore. They cry and call to each other, picking at something, some
things
, on the ground. I shine my flashlight on them.
The black birds scatter and screech at me and I stop short.
Dead fish lap along the bank, catch in the reeds. Belly- up, glazed-eyed. And I remember what Ky said about Vick and the way he died; I remember that dark poisoned stream back out in the Outer Provinces and other rivers that the Society poisoned as the water ran down to the Enemy.
Who’s poisoning the
Society’
s water?
I shiver a little and wrap my arms more tightly around myself. The papers inside my clothes whisper. Underneath all this death, somewhere in the water, other papers lie buried. It’s early spring, but the water is still frigid. If I go in to get the pages now, I won’t be able to wait as long for Ky.
What if he comes, and I’ve gone home cold?
CHAPTER 6
KY
W e’re getting closer and closer to Grandia. It’s time to tell Indie what I want to do.
There are speakers in the cockpit and down in the hold. The commander of our fleet can hear anything I say, and so can Caleb. So I’m going to have to write this out for Indie. I reach into my pocket and pull out a stick of charcoal and a napkin from the camp’s meal hall. I always keep these things with me. Who knows when the opportunity to send a message to Cassia might come along?
Indie glances over at me and raises her eyebrows. Silently, she mouths, “Who are you writing to?”
I point at her and her face lights up.
I’m trying to think of the best way to ask her.
In the Carving, I said we should try to run away from all of this. Remember? Let’s do that now.
If Indie agrees to come with me, maybe we can find a way to get Cassia and escape with the ship. I only get one word written down—
In
—before a voice fills the cockpit.
“This is your Chief Pilot speaking.”
I feel a little jolt of recognition, even though I’ve never heard him speak before. Indie draws in her breath, and I shove the charcoal and paper back into my pocket as if the Chief Pilot can see us. His voice sounds rich and musical, pleasing, but strong. It’s coming from the control panel, but the quality of the transmission is much better than usual. It sounds like he’s actually on the ship.
“I am also the Pilot of the Rising.”
Indie and I turn to look at each other. She was right, but there’s no triumph in her expression. Only conviction.
“Soon, I will speak to everyone in all of the Provinces,” the Pilot says, “but those of you taking part in the initial wave of the Rising have the right to hear from me first. You are here because of your decision to join the Rising and your merits as participants in this rebellion. And you are also here because of another important characteristic, one for which you cannot take credit.”
I look over at Indie. Her face looks beautiful, lit up. She believes in the Pilot. Do I, now that I’ve heard his voice?
“The red tablet doesn’t work on you,” the Pilot says. “You remember what the Society would have you forget. As some of you have long suspected, the Rising did this—we made you immune to the red tablet. And that is not all. You are also immune to an illness that is even now overtaking Cities and Boroughs throughout the Provinces.”
They never said anything about an illness. My muscles tense. What does this mean for Cassia?
“Some of you have heard of the
The closer I get to the water, the more I realize that something is wrong.
A thick cluster of black birds has gathered out near the edge of the first dock, and another group of them is congregated farther down the shore. They cry and call to each other, picking at something, some
things
, on the ground. I shine my flashlight on them.
The black birds scatter and screech at me and I stop short.
Dead fish lap along the bank, catch in the reeds. Belly- up, glazed-eyed. And I remember what Ky said about Vick and the way he died; I remember that dark poisoned stream back out in the Outer Provinces and other rivers that the Society poisoned as the water ran down to the Enemy.
Who’s poisoning the
Society’
s water?
I shiver a little and wrap my arms more tightly around myself. The papers inside my clothes whisper. Underneath all this death, somewhere in the water, other papers lie buried. It’s early spring, but the water is still frigid. If I go in to get the pages now, I won’t be able to wait as long for Ky.
What if he comes, and I’ve gone home cold?
CHAPTER 6
KY
W e’re getting closer and closer to Grandia. It’s time to tell Indie what I want to do.
There are speakers in the cockpit and down in the hold. The commander of our fleet can hear anything I say, and so can Caleb. So I’m going to have to write this out for Indie. I reach into my pocket and pull out a stick of charcoal and a napkin from the camp’s meal hall. I always keep these things with me. Who knows when the opportunity to send a message to Cassia might come along?
Indie glances over at me and raises her eyebrows. Silently, she mouths, “Who are you writing to?”
I point at her and her face lights up.
I’m trying to think of the best way to ask her.
In the Carving, I said we should try to run away from all of this. Remember? Let’s do that now.
If Indie agrees to come with me, maybe we can find a way to get Cassia and escape with the ship. I only get one word written down—
In
—before a voice fills the cockpit.
“This is your Chief Pilot speaking.”
I feel a little jolt of recognition, even though I’ve never heard him speak before. Indie draws in her breath, and I shove the charcoal and paper back into my pocket as if the Chief Pilot can see us. His voice sounds rich and musical, pleasing, but strong. It’s coming from the control panel, but the quality of the transmission is much better than usual. It sounds like he’s actually on the ship.
“I am also the Pilot of the Rising.”
Indie and I turn to look at each other. She was right, but there’s no triumph in her expression. Only conviction.
“Soon, I will speak to everyone in all of the Provinces,” the Pilot says, “but those of you taking part in the initial wave of the Rising have the right to hear from me first. You are here because of your decision to join the Rising and your merits as participants in this rebellion. And you are also here because of another important characteristic, one for which you cannot take credit.”
I look over at Indie. Her face looks beautiful, lit up. She believes in the Pilot. Do I, now that I’ve heard his voice?
“The red tablet doesn’t work on you,” the Pilot says. “You remember what the Society would have you forget. As some of you have long suspected, the Rising did this—we made you immune to the red tablet. And that is not all. You are also immune to an illness that is even now overtaking Cities and Boroughs throughout the Provinces.”
They never said anything about an illness. My muscles tense. What does this mean for Cassia?
“Some of you have heard of the
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