The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf (The Tribe) (23 page)

I gradually came back to myself. I was sitting, curled up against someone, my head resting against soft fabric through which I could hear a steady heartbeat. My entire body ached, and there were stabbing pains at so many different points on my skull that it felt like my brain had been taken apart and put back together again.
Which I guess it sort of has.
Everything still seemed to be shifting around in my mind, with everything I’d experienced at the center and everything that had happened before I came here settling into its proper place. It wasn’t just the four sets of “key events” memories, either. There were a bunch of other, smaller moments that were integrating into my consciousness, a thousand tiny interactions with Jaz, the saurs, Daniel, Connor, Georgie, and Ember. Now that I had all my hidden experiences back, I could see how my previous recollections of the recent past — especially the ones of Connor-the-traitor! — had been flimsy, lacking in color and depth. Exactly as Ember had said, my mind had gathered up a bunch of fragmented experiences and pieces of knowledge and arranged them into a pattern that made sense. But that pattern had formed a flawed picture of reality, and I was incredibly glad that none of it had been quite true.

“Ashala? You need to wake up.”

Connor
. He pressed a flask to my lips, and I gulped at the syrupy liquid. Wentworth’s magic concoction slid down my throat, radiating outward, and I opened my eyes to bright daylight. Connor spoke again. “Are you . . . yourself?”

He sounded worried, and very serious. I couldn’t be serious, not right now. Because I was happy. Gloriously, overwhelmingly happy.
Jaz is alive
.
Connor didn’t betray me
. I could have shouted or sung or danced. What I actually did was tip my head back to gaze up at him and say, “I think everything went well, don’t you?”

It was quite something to see the lightning flashing across his face. “You almost died. Twice!”

“Yeah, but
only
almost.”

He glared at me, and I grinned back at him. An answering smile began to tug at the corner of his lips, and I snuggled in close, thinking I’d be content to stay where I was for a while. “Ashala . . .” He sighed. “We need to move to the window to wait for Jaz. The detainees will be having their afternoon nap soon.”

I pulled away a little. “Afternoon?” I’d lost a night and most of a day! “Don’t we need to get to . . .?” But then I took in my surroundings. We were sitting on a narrow bed. Opposite us was a set of drawers with a slim white case resting on top, and on the far wall there was a wide window with a long storage box beneath it. The blind was closed, so I couldn’t see out, but I knew where we had to be. “We’re already inside the empty detainee house?”

He brushed a strand of hair back from my face, his fingers lingering against my skin. “Yes, and we have to go to the window so that Jaz can see you when he looks in. I doubt he’ll come over otherwise.”

That got me moving. I shifted away, swung my feet to the floor, and perched on the edge of the bed. Connor stood beside me, putting an arm around my waist, and I leaned against him as we walked to the window. I was leaning on him more heavily than I needed to — Wentworth’s medicine had once again done its job and I was feeling much better, but I wasn’t willing to give up being near him yet. “How’d I even get here from the cell? What have you been doing, carrying me around the center?”

“Yes.”

“I hope no one saw you!”

“I’m
supposed
to shift you around to places where the Inspectorate won’t stumble across you, and they’ve already been through the housing. But,” he added as he eased me onto the storage box, “I agree it would be better if no one was sure of where we are, so I made sure nobody did see us. It wasn’t difficult. Without the enforcers, this place is almost deserted.”

“The plan worked, then?”

“Oh, yes. Neville spent the night moving every enforcer he could spare into the Steeps.”

We exchanged glances of fierce satisfaction. Then he straightened, lifting the side of the blind. I leaned back and found myself looking out at another window in a house exactly like this one, across a thin strip of land. “Is that where they’re keeping Jaz?”

Connor nodded. “Their blind is still up, which means they haven’t locked the detainees in their bedrooms for the afternoon nap. We’ll have to wait a while longer.”

He settled onto the opposite end of the box. I took the chance to examine him, noting the small signs of exhaustion — the faint carelessness of his movements, the grim set to his mouth, and the way his skin was even paler than usual. He’d been pushed to the limits of his endurance and beyond, and I was guiltily aware that I was the one that had done the pushing. The last four days had to have been almost as terrible for him as they’d been for me, or maybe even worse. Because, surely, it
was
worse to watch something bad happening to someone you cared about than to have it happen to you. Trying to see how it had been from his perspective, I replayed events in my head, thinking about the bad times, like when he’d first put me in the chair and I’d wanted to ask him to save me — but no, I realized that in moments of extreme stress, I’d felt what he was feeling. He’d
wanted
me to ask him to save me. And in return, I hadn’t been very nice.

“Connor? I’m sorry for all the horrible things I said to you. And for trying to punch you.”

“I wish I could have let you. It would have made me feel better.”

“To be
hit
?”

“I haven’t liked myself very much recently.”

“You were doing what I asked you to do.”

He looked out the window again, and then back into the room, bowing his head. “I failed you, Ashala.”

“You did not.”

“I let you be injured, twice —”

“I threw myself onto that sword the first time —”

“I should have considered the possibility that you might do something like that! I didn’t react fast enough.”

“Connor, you weren’t responsible for me trying to kill myself. In fact . . .” I paused, remembering something. The too-quick way that enforcer had drawn her arm back so the sword didn’t bite as deep as I’d wanted it to. And how I’d felt something pressing on the wound, even as I was falling, long before anyone reached me. “You stopped the enforcer, didn’t you? And put pressure on the wound with air. You’re lucky you weren’t caught!”

“
I
was in no danger. The others were all too concerned about what Neville would do to them if you died to notice anything wrong. Besides, even with my ability, I couldn’t prevent you from being hurt. Not then, or with Briony.” He shook his head angrily. “That knife was confiscated when she first arrived. Evan must have given it back to her. I should have made sure she was searched again.”

“You couldn’t control everything.”

He didn’t reply, and I stretched my hand out across the space between us, holding it there until he took it. Winding my fingers around his, I said, “Connor. For the last three days, I have walked among pain and madness . . . and . . .” I tried to find the right word to describe what I’d seen in Neville’s eyes, that last time on the machine. Eventually, I whispered, “Evil.” I took a shuddering breath and continued. “Except I didn’t walk into any of it alone, because you were always with me. Connor, you were the angel standing at my shoulder. And the reason you didn’t fly me away was because I wouldn’t let you.”

He let out a choked laugh. “I told you there’s no such thing as angels.”

“You’re
so
wrong about that.”

He didn’t answer, but the bleakness left his face. For a while after that, the two of us just sat there, leaning back against the wall and holding hands, neither of us speaking and neither of us needing to. We both knew that we were still in the middle of a detention center, in terrible danger, surrounded by enemies, and too far from the tuarts. But somehow, everything bad that had happened, and everything that might be going to happen, seemed to fade away, vanishing into the past or the future. For now, I was myself again. We were together. And this small measure of time was ours alone.

Eventually Connor stirred, checking outside again. “The blind’s gone down. It won’t be long now.” He stood, rolled up our blind, and unlocked the catch on the window.

I looked out at the other house, but nothing was happening yet. “Are you sure he can open his window?”

“I hid a master key near the climbing structure this morning. Jaz should have collected it when the administrators took them out for playtime.”

“Was that what you were telling him when you spoke to him at the park?”

“Yes, and I tried to let him know that you were here on purpose. I was worried he might do something rash.”

I grinned at him. “Rash? Jaz? Surely not!”

There was sudden movement in the house opposite, and a small, worried face appeared. I gave Jaz a cheerful wave. He unlocked his window with the purloined key, then slithered out and scrambled across the space between us. Connor opened our own window, and I bent down to help Jaz inside. The second he was on his feet in the room, he flung his arms around me, and I hugged him back. We broke apart and both spoke at once: “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Jaz. Are you?”

“’’Course!”

I stared anxiously at him. He was thinner, maybe, but other than that, he did seem all right. Still . . . “Are you sure they haven’t hurt you?”

“It’s going to take more than detention to get the better of me. Besides, I knew you’d come.”

He said that last part with such complete faith that I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. I’d had so many worries in the weeks leading up to coming here, continually waking up in the night beset by nagging fears and secret doubts, but apparently my incorrigible Firestarter hadn’t been a bit concerned.

Standing up, I drew Jaz over to the bed, where we could sit comfortably next to each other. Connor pulled down the blind over our now-closed window and sat down on the box, going still and silent. I cast a grateful look at him, knowing he was retreating from the room in the only way he could, to give me time with Jaz.

I tried to think of all the stuff that Jaz needed to know and started with what I thought he’d want to hear most. “We got Pepper. The saurs are taking care of her.”

I’d expected him to be happy, to smile his toothy smile. But he just glowered at Connor. I said quickly, “Connor’s on our side, Jaz. I told you about him ages ago, remember?”

“He didn’t seem like he was on our side in the park.”

“That was — I mean, wasn’t — it’s kind of a long story. He’s with us, though — I promise. I’ll prove it. He’s going to take your collar off.”

At my words, Connor rose and came over to the bed. He entered the code into the band around Jaz’s neck, then did mine. As Connor took the collars away, Jaz felt his neck and exclaimed, “It’s gone. It’s actually gone.”

“Jaz, we need to —”

He interrupted me. “Ash, you know I can’t go yet, right?”

“Why not?”

“Because of the others. Can you believe that until I came along, none of them knew anything about resisting the government? They need me.”

I couldn’t believe it. Was this my careless Jaz taking responsibility for other human beings? I remembered the clever way those kids had shown me their abilities, and how I’d thought they were Tribe in their hearts.
Jaz is their . . . leader?
It seemed such a strange word to apply to him, and yet it was the right one. “Um, you don’t need to worry, Jaz. We’re taking them all with us.”

“What about the traitor? Is she still in here somewhere? ’Cause I think we should let the government keep her, if she is.”

Oh, yeah, he saw Briony at the park, too.
“I’m afraid that Bry — she died.”

His face lit up. “Excellent! Did you kill her?”

“No!”

He patted my leg. “Never mind, Ash. The important thing is that she’s gone.”

Disconcerted, I asked, “Aren’t you sorry that she’s dead?”

Jaz sniffed. “She didn’t keep faith with the pack. You can’t feel sorry for people like that.” His attention shifted to Connor, who was opening the case that sat on the drawers. “Is that another collar? What’s it for?” he asked.

“I’m afraid you have to wear it. But,” I reassured him as Connor handed the collar to me, “it’s okay, because it doesn’t work.”

“What do you mean, it doesn’t work?”

“It’s a government secret. When an Illegal has a collar on for years and years, it wears out. Let me get this on you, and I’ll prove it.”

He seemed doubtful but held himself still as I put it around his neck. It felt awful to do this to him, but I reminded myself that it wasn’t a real collar as I clipped it into place. “Okay, let’s test it. Can you make fire?”