Page 37 of Rise

Page 37

  “I wasn’t in a position to tell you I was leaving,” I said.

  Maeve narrowed her eyes, sensing there was more to the statement. Her eyes went from Benny back to Silas, until finally she spoke. “They can stay for now, but you’re responsible for them. ” Then she gestured over her shoulder, to the path that led to her house. “We’ll set you up in the house beside mine. I’ll be able to take care of you there. ”

  Take care of you. I nearly laughed at the words. Bette and Kit picked up a few of the bags and started forward, but I directed them to stop. “We’ll stay with Quinn for now, until we can get something more permanent set up. Thank you, though, for your generosity. ” I smiled—a tight, unflinching smile—and turned back to the dock.

  Quinn gave me a puzzled look. I ignored it, knowing I’d have to explain later. Instead I helped the rest of the girls down toward the boat, making sure they tied their horses far enough into the woods that they couldn’t be seen from the beach. As we packed the rest of the supplies, I noticed Maeve hiking up through the woods, appearing and disappearing beyond the trees. Every now and then she turned back, watching me.

  Twenty-six

  QUINN HAD CHOSEN THE BIGGEST HOUSEBOAT ON THE BAY, A gargantuan thing now green with algae. It still held the possessions of the past owners—gold statues of ducks, a long leather couch, and a ripped painting that looked vaguely like one I’d seen in my old art book, by a man named Rothko. In two days the girls had settled in. Their few belongings were strewn everywhere, finding their way onto countertops, hanging over the tops of doors and tucked beneath the couch cushions.

  I knew it was best for them—to be here, to be settled. Tully, an older woman who’d practiced as a doctor before the plague, examined Helene’s foot. She reset it, believing there was a chance for it to heal correctly, even now. Silas and Benny had befriended Lilac, though Maeve had warned her against it. They fit in easily, and despite the rule, most of the women had agreed they were young enough to stay.

  With Benny, Silas, and the younger girls asleep upstairs, Quinn moved easily around the hull, plucking a few plates from a high cabinet. Outside, the water rose over the portholes. Barnacles clung to the glass.

  “And here you are,” she said, setting the plates down in front of us. She pointed to the steaming pot of abalone in the middle of the table, just visible in the candlelight. “Hope you’re not sick of it yet. ”

  “We’ve been eating dried chipmunk,” Clara said with a laugh, referring to the jarred, salted meats we’d found in the dugout. In our days on the road I’d determined it was squirrel, not chipmunk, but it seemed pointless to mention that now. “Besides, there’s no seafood in the City. I consider this a delicacy. ” She plucked one of the shells from the pot and put it on her plate, Beatrice and Ruby following her lead.

  I watched Quinn as she moved around the kitchen, pulling out a few silver forks and extra plates from the rusted stove, the useless cord duct taped to the side of it. “Do I have to beg?” I asked. “It’s been two days, and you haven’t said a word about that message. What do you know that we don’t?”

  Quinn set the forks down on the table. She rested her hands on the back of the chair, squeezing it so hard her knuckles went white. “What’s the use in sharing it now?” she said. “The siege is over. We can’t change anything. ” She paused before she sat, glancing quickly at my stomach.

  “Since when do you need to protect me, Quinn?” I asked. “No special treatment. You don’t think I can handle what you’re going to say? Just because I’m pregnant?”

  “It’s upsetting,” Quinn said, lowering her voice. “That’s all. ” She slid an abalone off its iridescent shell, popping the soft meat into her mouth.

  Clara was silent for a moment. She set down her fork. “We still have friends and family inside the City walls,” she said. “My mother’s there . . . and Charles. We thought the fighting was over. ”

  “The fighting is over,” Quinn said. “But as I understand it, things there are even worse now. There have been raids in the middle of the night. Families in the Outlands have been broken up—people have been accused of fighting against the King during the siege. They’ve left the bodies of the executed there, in front of the Palace, rotting for days. There was a message that the army from the colonies will come, that they’ve been rallied by a rebel leader from the west. But it’s still uncertain . . . ”

  She glanced at me again, then looked down, nudging the glossy shells on her plate.

  “Go on, Quinn,” I prodded. “We need to know. ”

  She pressed her lips together, then let out a deep sigh. “There was this message the other night from the City. It was a woman’s voice. She didn’t even use a code. She identified herself as a Palace worker. A man was yelling in the background. She said the Princess betrayed her father and was working for the rebel cause. They were taking Palace workers into custody to question them, to see who was involved. Most hadn’t returned afterward. She believed one of the workers was executed because he didn’t cooperate. ”

  “What was her name? Who was she?” I could barely get the words out.

  “She didn’t say,” Quinn answered. “Apparently he’s been questioning everyone, trying to get information on your whereabouts. And most of those interrogated haven’t been seen after. When I thought about it I knew I shouldn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to feel like it was your fault. ”

  “It is my fault,” I said. “Don’t you see that? I escaped. I had knowledge of the tunnels, and I left the City. It is my fault. ”

  I stood. Beatrice tried to grab my arm, but I pulled away.

  “You couldn’t have known,” she said. “You did the best you could. There are nine girls who are here, safe, because you helped them. They’re not in the Schools anymore. You brought me, didn’t you? Where would I be now?”

  Ruby watched me, her eyes red. “You didn’t know this would happen,” she said. Even those words, that reprieve from her, couldn’t calm me. Until I was back there, in my father’s custody, others would be captured, tortured, detained indefinitely. Until I was executed, others would be executed in my place.

  “There’s nothing you can do,” Clara said. She pushed back, away from the table. “Don’t blame yourself, Eve. You were working with Moss—you tried. ”

  But the mention of Moss just brought me back to the day I’d left. His body in the elevator. How the bullet had ripped through his back. “I just need this day to end,” I said, starting toward the stairs. “I can’t think anymore. ”

  Quinn stood, trying to get in front of me, but I sidestepped her. “Eve—I’m sorry. You see now why I didn’t want to tell you?”

  “No—I’m glad you did,” I said, watching them as I started up the stairs. “I needed to know. ” When I got to the top landing I maneuvered through the hallways in silence. Light came in through the windows, dimmed by the plants that grew over the houseboat’s roof. I counted the doors as I went, finally turning in to the room Ruby, Clara, and I shared.

  I curled up on the mattress. The cabin was so dark I could hardly see two inches in front of me. I rested my hand on my chest, trying to slow my heart. I thought of Arden now, of what she must’ve felt when she was in hiding with Ruby and Pip, listening to word of the siege. Of course she had wanted to go. How could I stay here, waiting for word that the fighting had ended? Was I supposed to just hope that somehow my father would be stopped?