The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf (The Tribe) (29 page)

The song poured into the word and the word poured into the song, and all of it poured out of me. It ran into the angel, leaving me feeling weak and empty, but I didn’t mind. I’d give the whole of the song and the whole of myself, too, if it would make the angel smile again. He remained cold and lifeless, and for a few terrifying seconds, I thought that even the music hadn’t been enough. Then his lips softened beneath mine, and his arm came up around my neck, pulling me closer.

Electricity sparked between us, and I was burning, but not with rage this time. Everything seemed to vanish, until there was nothing except the feel and the taste of him, and the music pulsing through us both. The boundaries between his self and mine disappeared, and for a glorious moment, I was the angel and he was me, and the two of us together were the whole world.

The kiss finally ended, leaving me dizzy and disoriented. I glanced around woozily and found myself surrounded by a forest of ordinary, nonmetallic trees. There was an unmoving shape on the ground some distance away that had to be Evan. I knew I’d killed him, but I couldn’t think about that right now. I couldn’t think about anything other than Connor. I put my hand to the pulse in his neck, rejoicing in the feel of a strong, steady heartbeat.

He blinked up at me, looking bewildered.

“Ashala? What happened?” he asked.

You were dead, and now you’re not
. But that wasn’t the most important thing to say. “I love you, Connor.” His lips curved in a delighted smile as I bent to press butterfly kisses on his cheek, his nose, his hair. “I love you, I love you, I love you . . .”

Connor laughed, and somewhere within the simple joy of it, I heard the dim echo of the life-giving song. Then he propped himself up on one elbow and reached to push my hair back from my face. He held my cheek cupped in his hand, wiping at a tear with his thumb, and I lifted my own hand to wrap around his.

And he said, “Ashala.”
A-shay-la
. “Let’s go home.”

Ember says you can tell that events are of great social and historical significance when people start referring to them in capital letters. That was how it was with some of the things that happened on that night and in the days that followed.

It didn’t take the Inspectorate long to seize total control of the center, not after they’d armed their supporters with the streakers from the cache that we’d shown them. But it wasn’t until the next day that the fire was out. Once the flames were extinguished, Duoro drove the small sedan into Cambergull and made a speech that would later be called the Cambergull Oration, which was a pretty fancy name for an address delivered in the town square atop an upturned apple crate. He spoke of the terrible things Neville Rose and Miriam Grey had done and recounted every horrifying detail of the deaths of the detainees, who would forever afterward be known as the Grasslands Sixteen. And then he went back to the center, with as many people as could fit inside that tiny car.

Others soon followed, a steady stream of people who’d heard the Oration or had been told about it by someone else. They arrived on bicycles, horses, even in carts pulled by oxen, and those who couldn’t find any other way of getting there put on a pair of boots and walked. It wasn’t only reformer types, either. Breaking accords was enough to upset a whole bunch of Citizens, many of whom had never even asked the Question. Under the Inspectorate’s direction, they went through the center like a storm, opening every container, unlocking every door, and meticulously recording everything they found. Then they went out to the mine and recorded everything there, too. They called it the Citizens’ Occupation, and it was enough to make sure that there was no chance of anyone in the government being able to conceal what had gone on in Detention Center 3.

Between and around the Grasslands Sixteen, the Cambergull Oration, and the Citizens’ Occupation, other stuff happened, too. Not things that would be spoken of on the streets of Cambergull or in Gull City. But things that were important to me.

On the morning after the fire, before the light came, Ember and Connor went out to dispose of a body. They both told me I’d done the right thing, that Evan would have killed me. I just nodded. Neither of them knew the full story of what had happened that night, because I hadn’t told them, yet. They didn’t realize how angry I’d been or what it was like to feel that all-consuming desire to hurt another human being. I did, though. I remembered it all, this time — everything that had happened when I was Sleepwalking while awake. Some of those memories I treasured — the ones of Cassie, of the song, and of Connor, coming back to life.

The rest of it, I wished I could forget.

On the third day after the fire, I went to the caves and found Georgie. The two of us wandered together through the Firstwood, down to the big deep lake, and as we went, I started talking. I told her everything — all about Grandfather Serpent and Briony. Killing Evan, and seeing Cassie, and the way Connor had died and lived again. I knew it would take me a long time to process it all, but I felt better for the telling of it, lighter in body and soul. By the time I’d finished, we were standing by the water, and I said quietly, “When I saw Cassie while I was Sleepwalking, it wasn’t quite like it usually is. I think it was her, and not just my memory of her. Her spirit, or something.”

There was one way to be certain, although I wasn’t sure I even wanted to ask, in case I didn’t like the answer. Except I had to. That was why I’d come here, and why I’d brought Georgie, who’d known and loved my little sister. She was the only other person to have met Grandfather, too, I guessed, although she’d done it while she was dreaming.

Walking over to the lake’s edge, I bent over to trail my hand in the water. “Grandfather?”

Bubbles started rising up from the center of the lake, and I took a quick step back. His head didn’t break the surface. But the sense of a
presence,
and a charged weight to the air, was enough to tell me he was there. “I need to ask about Cassie. Is she — is she with you?”

There was a rippling in the water, a movement of waves and light. It was almost like sunshine on the surface of the lake, only it gleamed a bright shade of blue, and it moved, flashing back and forth across the surface in patterns that somehow suggested a skipping step, a gurgle of laughter.
Cassie.

Georgie clutched at my arm. “Ash, do you see?”

Blinking back tears, I answered, “Yeah, Georgie. I see.”

“You know, you haven’t remembered her right, Ash. Not in a long time. You’ve only remembered how she died.” She waved her arm at the lake. “This, though — this is
life.
”

Yes, it was, and I had my answer. It would never be the same as seeing my sister grow up. But I knew for certain now that she went on. She’d joined the song that for an instant, I’d held within my body and now seemed to hear everywhere.

The patterns faded, and I whispered, “Thank you, Grandfather. For Cassie. For Connor, too.”

The Serpent was silent, although I got the feeling he was grinning at me, from somewhere in the deeps. “Um, do I owe you anything?” I asked awkwardly. “Do you want me to do something for you in exchange? I mean, you brought him back to life. . . .” The wind picked up, swirling through the trees. After a while, I realized that the sounds it was making as it blew through the leaves were words, if you listened right.
My
words, spoken when I’d first come to the Firstwood:
If anyone ever comes for you with machines or saws or axes or anything, they’ll have to get through me first.

I murmured to Georgie, “I think maybe he helped me to help the trees.”

“I think,” she replied, “that maybe he helped you to help
you
. He’s your grandpa, Ash, and a part of you was dying, too, when you lost Connor. On the inside, I mean.”

Binary stars
. It hadn’t occurred to me before to wonder what happened to a binary system if one star fell from the sky, how hard it might be for the other one to create a stable orbit on its own. I frowned at the lake, wishing Grandfather would come out so I could speak to him properly. Maybe he didn’t do that in this world. But he’d done something so immense for me, and it didn’t seem like I could ever repay him for it. Watching over the Firstwood definitely didn’t seem like enough, not when I’d do that anyway. Maybe he didn’t realize that?

I cleared my throat and said, “I always would’ve looked after the trees, you know, even if you hadn’t done what you did. Are you sure there’s not something else?”

A sense of amusement came emanating up from the water. Grandfather thought it was funny that I would waste time worrying when everything had worked out well. The wind picked up again, forming different words this time.

He lives. You live. We survive.

I turned into the breeze, inhaling the many scents of the forest in spring. “Yes, Grandfather. We do!”

On the fifteenth day after the fire, we had a picnic on the grasslands.

Nine of us were gathered — two saurs and seven humans. Ember had stationed herself on one of the rocky hills and kept scrambling up to the top to peer at the distant center in case anything interesting was happening. Jaz and Pepper sat at the base of the hill, bickering cheerfully, with Hatches and Wanders dozing nearby. Georgie was wandering around, staring at clouds, while Daniel picked wildflowers to string into a necklace for her. And I sat in a large circle of grass that the saurs had helpfully flattened, Connor lounging at my side.

Ember came down from yet another trip to the top of the hill. “I told you what Daniel heard in Cambergull, didn’t I? That Belle Willis has put her name forward as a candidate to be Gull City Prime?”

“Yeah, you told me, Em.”

“She might win, too. Especially since nobody will be voting for Neville now.” She chuckled. “We’ve changed the world, Ash!”

I laughed back at her. “I guess we have.”

Jaz said, in a disgruntled tone, “Did she tell you that he
also
said that the Friends of Detainees think Detention Center 3 should be made into a memorial museum? A museum, Ash! That means people will keep visiting it.”

“Better a museum than a detention center,” I pointed out.

“I still think it would’ve been better if it’d burned down completely. If too many people start coming to that place,
my
tribe might have to do something about it.”

“Remember what we agreed, Jaz,” I warned him. “The saur tribe isn’t to do anything outside the grasslands without speaking to me first.”

My enterprising Firestarter had somehow persuaded the lizards to adopt the rest of the detainees, and Pepper, too. Worrying about what crazy schemes those wild children might dream up was already causing me sleepless nights, and all I could really do was hope that the saurs would keep them in line.

Pepper nudged her brother and whispered something in his ear. He shook his head, and she whispered again, more urgently. Finally, he said, “Ask him yourself!”

She beamed at Connor. “Can you make me fly? Ash
promised
she would, but she hasn’t yet.”

“Pepper!” I protested. “I’ve been a bit busy, you know.”

Connor didn’t say anything, but Pepper began to rise into the air. She circled over the top of us, giggling like crazy, while I glanced from her to Connor. He was dressed like a proper Tribe member now, in a patched Gull City–blue shirt and pants, the color of his clothes making his eyes seem all the bluer beneath his rumpled hair. Personally, I thought he’d never looked more gorgeous.

Pepper came drifting down from the sky and landed next to Jaz, calling out, “I flew! I flew, I flew, I flew!”

I reached over and brushed a smudge of dirt off Connor’s cheek. “If I could do what you do, I don’t think I’d ever walk on the ground.”

He smiled dazzlingly. “Stick with me, and you’ll never have to.”

I grinned and bent my head to kiss him, just because I wanted to and I could. It wasn’t a bring-someone-back-from-death kiss. But it had its own wild magic, wrapping us up together and carrying us away into a space that was forever ours. When it ended, we were both shaking a little, and I leaned my forehead against his, resting my hand on his chest and enjoying being close to him. Until some grass hit me on the shoulder, and a disgusted voice complained, “Do you
have
to do that where people can see you?”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to get used to it, Jaz,” I said. Then I noticed Georgie, and I let Connor go, jumping to my feet. She’d come right up to the edge of where we were all sitting and was gazing blankly into the distance. Out on the grasslands, Daniel was standing still, holding a bunch of flowers in his hand. Like me, he wasn’t sure whether there was something to be concerned about yet. Moving closer to her, I said quietly, “Georgie? Do you
see
something?”

For a second, she didn’t respond. Then she focused on my face and asked, very seriously, “Ash, is this the real world?”

I was so relieved, I started to laugh. A moment later, I felt myself rising into the air. Lifting my face to the sun, I stretched out my arms and turned slowly in space.