In some ways, it was the freest I’d ever been, with no Father to threaten me.
One night, when the three of us were laying out our sleeping bags atop a high-rise building, Stef asked, “We’re going, right? With the rest of the Community?”
“I don’t really want to go. I like this. Here.” Fayden motioned across the dark city and glanced at me. “But I guess we don’t have much of a choice. What do you think, Sam?”
I shrugged. “It seems ridiculous to take everyone. That’s over two million people. Why do we all have to go? What can a bunch of farmers and scavengers do to rescue Janan?”
“I know, but you wouldn’t stay here, would you?” Fayden scowled. “You’d go with the rest of the Community, right?”
I looked at Stef, who was slicing a wedge of cheese for our dinner. He wore a thoughtful expression. “What about your trap?” I asked.
He lowered the cheese and knife. “If we’re somewhere else, we won’t need the trap.”
“You won’t ever know if they’d have approved it for wider use.”
“There will be other opportunities to petition them for work. I’m sure they’ll come up with lots of reasons to need my services while we travel. Whenever we get where we’re going.”
“But the glass. The trolls.” The revenge I needed.
The last was mere thought, but Stef looked at me as though he understood. “The world is full of monsters. Be angry about what happened. Fight back when you can. But don’t let that anger and fight consume your life. You deserve to live, too.”
Was that why I was so resistant to go? Because I couldn’t see beyond my own pain?
Certainly that was part of it, but I didn’t think I was wrong about Meuric’s declaration that we would all go to rescue Janan. If he was such a great warrior, and he’d taken all the best warriors with him, why couldn’t he rescue himself? What could the rest of us do? We had numbers, certainly, but with the drought and hunger and plague, population wouldn’t be on our side for long. Especially since—as Stef said—the world was full of monsters.
How many would die on this journey north?
Would I even survive it?
Fayden and Stef would look out for me. And I couldn’t abandon them, either.
“I still think it’s a dumb idea.”
“No one’s arguing that.” Stef flashed a grin. “It’s a Meuric idea, though. He’s absolutely certain that we all worship Janan just as much as he does, so to him, this is a reasonable demand. We all go.”
What about the people who couldn’t?
Well, unless music could help them make the journey, I was useless to them.
“If you’re both going, then I’m going.” I said it with a smile, but I knew neither of them bought it. “Besides, someone has to keep you two out of trouble.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Fayden grabbed a bit of cheese, ignoring Stef’s scowling. “We have to stick together, all three of us.”
And that was the truth. I’d already lost my mother. I couldn’t lose my brother and best friend, too.
“What’s going to happen to the people who stay behind?” I asked. From this rooftop, I could just spot the fires of the plague quarantine area. “What about the people who are sick, who won’t be able to make the journey Meuric is proposing?”
“You want the truth?” Fayden raised an eyebrow.
I nodded.
“I don’t think they’re going to survive anyway, but especially not without the Community.” His voice turned lower, sadder. “I think they’re all going to die here, stuck in the memories of a city that’s crumbling to nothing.”
Those words haunted me all through the night, and rang through my thoughts as sunlight poured across the city. Maybe it was guilt, or some repressed sense of obligation, but after Stef, Fayden, and I ate a quick breakfast, I announced that I wanted to go back to the Community. I wanted to see Father.
“You want to see him?” Stef’s face twisted in disbelief. “After what he did to you?”
“I want to find out whether he’s going.” I looked at my hands. “I know what he did to me. And I don’t want to travel with him. I just . . . need to know, I guess.” It felt presumptuous to say, but: “Mother would want someone to check on him.”
“Do you think this is a smart idea?” Fayden scowled and finished loading his backpack.
“I don’t know. Maybe not.” Still, I had to try.
That afternoon, the three of us headed back to the Community—Stef to his aunts’ house, where he was helping pack the wagon we’d all be sharing, and Fayden and me to our father’s house at the far edge of the Community.
The walks would take longer than usual, because we had to go around areas that were consumed with riots. Even from here, I could hear the crackle and scream of fire, and smell the acrid smoke.