“Still stable. Her Healer blood is staving off the worst of the poison. She’s already sitting up and asked how you all are faring. We can visit after, if you’d like.”
I sigh with relief, then nod and glance at Tiernan.
He smiles encouragingly and hooks his elbow through mine. “Ready?”
My throat is too knotted up for speech, so I nod again.
As we pass other inhabitants of the Verge, they either smile or gawk at us with curiosity. Farther across the land, we come upon a pasture with a large, two-story building in the background with the words Hatchling’s Nest above the double-door entrance. Children are playing happily, working on little crafts in small groups with an adult chaperone, or being pushed in wooden swings and hammocks hanging between trees and handmade structures.
I spot a small child with a hat over her head, much like the one I once made for Taig. Sound-muffling, I presume. She flaps her hands happily as she spins in circles and my heart just about bursts to witness her so openly able to express her joy in her own unique way.
There is no such thing as anUndesirablehere.
I reach out for Tiernan’s hand, needing the extra boost of courage as I prepare for disappointment and heartbreak. I’m just about to say that maybe we should go back to the house when a flash of big hair catches my attention. I take in the scrawny body and teetering gait. The chestnut curls and the small grabby hands that reach out in front of him. The little boy turns full circle, nearly falling over, and I catch a glimpse of his perfect little face. His light brown skin has a healthy glow to it, his cheeks even filling out a little.
I stumble back on wobbly legs, my thoughts jumbled, limbs weightless. Giddy warmth floods my chest, tears welling behind my eyelids.
Let this be real. Please, let this be real.
It’s only Tiernan’s arm around my waist that keeps me upright as my knees buckle. I blink, tears streaming down my face as a sob breaks free.
“Taig,” I manage to say, my throat too tight, my body seemingly unsure of exactly how to process what is right in front of me. “Taig!”
He turns to face me very slowly. His expression remains unchanged at first, but then a radiant smile spreads across his face, dimples blossoming in his cheeks.
My heart bursts.
I break free from Tiernan’s grasp and run toward my little brother. My knees hit the grass, and I throw my arms around him. His skinny arms wrap around my neck. I bury my face in his shoulder, my body shaking with sobs of joy and relief.
“My sweet boy, my sweet Taig.” I can’t stop the repetitive words.
My Taig. He’s alive. Thank the gods, thank the rebels, thank goodness he’s alive.
I push him an arm’s distance away to study him, but he shoves me away and walks off. I stare at him, slack-jawed as he hobbles away from me. Then I collapse onto my bottom.
I can’t stop laughing and I can’t stop crying.
Tiernan joins me on one side and Chiyo on the other. We watch together as Taig walks in circles and Dayfyd speaks to the very concerned caregiver who had witnessed the whole thing. I hold up a hand in apology to her as Dayfyd seems to be explaining the situation. She nods to me in acknowledgement.
My face aches from smiling so much, and I reach out to take Chiyo’s hand, squeezing it once while I lean against Tiernan’s shoulder. Eventually, Taig totters back over to us and plops down into my lap, knocking the air out of me. He sits still for about five seconds before he tries to get loose again. “Sweet boy,” I say. “Can I just introduce you to my friends?” I point to each of them. “This is Tiernan and Chiyo. They helped me find my way to you again.”
Even Osheen. My throat constricts, but I swallow down the heartache.
Taig stares at Tiernan and then reaches out as though he means to caress his cheek. But rather than caress his cheek, he grabs hold of Tiernan’s hair and tugshard.
“Ow!” Tiernan exclaims, and Chiyo bursts out laughing. Taig laughs as well, then struggles to his feet and walks off once more.
I apologize to Tiernan as he tucks his hair behind his ear, but he shakes his head and smiles brightly. “He’d make a good fighter, that one.”
I laugh. “He already is.”
It’s amazing that he is outside. Free, happy, thriving.
I can live my life here with him, protected by the wards. It seems so simple.
But what about all the other children out there? All the others who areUndesirableand struggling to keep their lives a secret? Or the baby in Ballybaeg who died in my arms. The rebels seek to help those who do not have the means to help themselves. To rise up against the laws that make it impossible for people like us to live with a sense of safety.
I dry the tears on my face, take a deep breath, and slowly get to my feet. Brushing grass off my trousers and hands, I gather my composure and turn to Chiyo and Tiernan.
