The Cage(81)

Tessela grabbed her, and they dematerialized back to the drugstore, facing the green grass and warm sun, though Mali hugged the jacket tighter. She stopped on the porch and looked out over their world as Tessela disappeared behind her.

The ocean lapped against the beach. The stream wound through the farm. In the distance, she could make out the highest dunes of the desert.

Cora had said that this enclosure was a lie. The artificiality of it had never bothered Mali before, because she knew there was no alternative. Earth was gone. She had never questioned that.

But now she wondered if Anya was still alive. And if the Kindred had lied to her about Anya, what else had they lied about? Could Earth still be there, and they’d only been told it wasn’t to keep them complacent?

Her eyes traced the far reaches of the desert. She had only the one memory of her life before she had been taken. A carpet laid out over sand, and camels in the distance, and her mother pouring hot tea from a beautiful glass pot. She had clung to that memory of her home because it was all there was.

But maybe there could be more.

Maybe her mother was still there, and the camels, and the tea, and all of Earth. Maybe she had been wrong to have trusted the Kindred. She had thought she was different; that Serassi and Cassian were her friends, and she was more than just a human subject. But maybe they had been manipulating her the entire time, just like they had the others.

Maybe Cora was right.

Maybe Earth was still there—and maybe they could go back.





UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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39

Cora

OVERHEAD, SPRAYS OF PALMS obscured the sky. Cora raced along the elevated walkway through the jungle. There were no mosquitoes, no thorns, no tropical snakes—nothing dangerous, just like all the habitats. A heavy rain began, soaking into her clothes.

Between the dancing leaves, she glimpsed the ruins of a towering stone palace covered in vines, and a few quaint huts, though they were likely just fabricated replicas that provided a framework for the black windows. She was drenched, so she jumped off the walkway and ran for it.

Mud gave way to sandy soil as she jogged toward the closest hut. Two of the huts were entirely artificial, but the other one had three walls and a thatched roof that at least provided a break from the rain. From the collection of belongings scattered about, she knew she’d found Leon’s home.

Sickly sweet peaches from the farm filled a crate. Leaves woven together by untrained hands made a rough mat, covered with a sheet stolen from the house. There were more sheets strung up around the sides of the huts. He had painted on them in mud, and they were actually quite good. She’d never have guessed that Leon was an artist, but his strokes were certain, his shading masterful and surprisingly emotional. The Kindred took us because we’re prime specimens. She shouldn’t have assumed the only desirable trait Leon had was his strength.

Someone grunted behind her.

She twisted around. Leon was crouched in a corner of the hut, waiting out the rain too. Even so close to the ground, he was a colossus. Shadows hid one half of his face, so only the tattooed side stared back at her.

She reached for a guitar string around her wrist. “Leon,” she stammered. “I came to find you.”

He stayed where he was. His eyes traced over her body, lingering on the wet hair plastered to her face, then drifted to the paintings. Cora swallowed. “They’re really good.”

What she didn’t say was that they were completely insane.

Each sheet was covered in a thousand watching eyes. Not fathomless Kindred eyes, but human eyes with irises and pupils and flecks of color that he must have made from the painting kit.

“Yeah, wow, I didn’t know you were an artist,” she added, fingering the guitar string. It would only take one flick of her finger to spring the knot, and have it ready to twist around his throat if he tried anything.

His expression was hooded. He stood, slowly stretching to his full height. “What are you doing out here?”

She hesitated. It was a perfectly sane thing to say, unlike the crazed ramblings she’d expected. “I . . . wanted to find you. The others aren’t thinking straight. They’ve basically turned against me. They’re convinced that Earth is gone. I don’t believe that, and I think there’s a chance we can get home, but first we have to escape this enclosure. Mali claims she doesn’t know where the fail-safe exit is, but she’s lied to us before. She won’t talk to me, but she might talk to you. The Kindred must have paired you for a reason.”