I want to hug him. To tell him I’m proud—that he reminds me of my father and brother. That he’s a rare gem in this horrifying world.
Instead, Arayik’s patience hits its ceiling. “Enough,” heshouts, shoving the tip of his blade into the crease of Rook’s foot. “If he won’t talk, I have no use for him.”
He reaches for a small pack Finnick is already opening like he’s been waiting to all morning. Shock baton, tubing, syringe, more knives. The list makes my stomach hard.
“Wait,” I cry before Arayik can choose where to start, jolting from my position to stand next to him. “You’ll spike adrenaline and pain before we use the only advantage we have.”
“What advantage is that, Ashford?” Arayik asks, amused, without turning his head.
My voice lowers. “He thinks we’re monsters. He’s ready for pain and death, but he isn’t ready for someone to treat him like a person. That’s why he brought up his story of barns. He’s anchoring himself. If I pull on that anchor, he may give us something he doesn’t think is information.”
A beat. Kellen’s brow raises in my direction while Elias remains quiet. The Commander exhales a sound that isn’t quite a laugh; a dry, fearsome sound.
“Five minutes.”
That’s as much space as I’m going to get.
I return to Rook and wring the rag out under the canteen mouth. I dab the cracks at his lip, not a dramatic help, but the man deserves to speak without being completely dehydrated. He startles at the gentleness.
“What’s your river called?” I think of sunny days and flowing water, filling him with the peace of those images. My skull pounds as if it’s going to tear from my scalp—I’ve been holding my power for longer than I thought. Still, I keep going.
“Old map says Kole,” he answers as his eyes flutter shut. “We call it The Spine.”
I pause. “Because?”
“It holds what we build; gives life to all of us that just wantto live in peace.” It costs him to say it, fear rising in my throat again. I share more calming feelings before continuing.
“You were counting us when we spotted you,” I say, not exactly a question.
“I was deciding what you are.”
“And? What are we?” I keep my voice flat to hide the excited interest I feel in speaking with this man.
He tips his chin toward Arayik without looking away from me. “It’s like you said: monsters.” His gaze slides to Arayik. “But that one is pure demon.” Rook grins at the Commander, showcasing blood-crusted teeth.
I don’t blink. “Tell me something that won’t get anyone hurt.”
He exhales as both shoulders drop a fraction. “We planted the kale too close in the lower bed,” he mutters almost conversationally. “The kids won’t thin it; they feel bad for the small ones.”
“How many beds do you have?” The question leaves before I can stop it.
“Eight,” he says, and also catches himself a second too late. We still have an audience.
As much as I would love to learn everything about his life and how he brought people outside the perimeter, I know my window is closing.
Reaching inside, every bit of goodness I possess gets shoved into a box as I continue. “North.” No reaction. “South.” Still nothing. “East—” There, a slight twitch in his eye. It appears our intelligence was correct, after all.
I know my time is exhausted when Arayik strides forward. “His camp is east,” I declare for the group, holding Rook’s gaze.
I’m so sorry.
Arayik’s hand is already on his gun when I stand. “Good.”
Elias appears at my shoulder, voice low. “Walk.” And I do, my head shaking as I will the impending migraine away.
Pack heavy on my back, we step far enough that the noise of camp becomes a hum. A shrill pop spreads through the land, but I keep walking, praying to the stars it was a quick enough death.
Elias waits until my pulse has finally learned a normal rhythm again to speak. “You did good. And you kept Arayik from turning the man’s hand into a lesson. That’s not nothing.”
