the four of us pool our power, Cadi believed we’d gain strength the way the Elements do. We could unveil a lot people. Everyone, maybe. Let them decide what’s best.”
“No.” Deshi jerks his hand out of mine, stumbling back until he bumps into the marble bars. He turns, waves his hand, steps outside, and replaces the bars in one fluid movement. From outside, his eyes lock onto mine.
I see nothing but fear.
“People are better off this way. In a few months, the Others will move on. The veils or whatever they are will disintegrate and humans will be fine. There’s no need for us to do anything, and the planet doesn’t need help.” His words tremble, banging around in the air like blocks. Like someone had stacked his beliefs into something solid and I just scattered them all over the ground.
“Deshi. You’ve done a lot for me already. You healed my burns, you kept me from going insane in here. You let me say good-bye to Pax and Lucas.” I swallow the pain that flares with their names. “One more thing. Please. Go to the cabin. Meet Wolf. Talk to Brittany. If you still think letting us die in here is the right thing to do, fine.”
“How do we know the ‘right thing,’ Althea? No one has ever been honest with us. Not ever.”
The desperate ache in the words hit a familiar longing inside me, but now that I’ve seen Deshi’s film, I’m more convinced than ever that it’s not true. “Ko has. Our notes, they’re true. And he wrapped them in gifts that explain this world we don’t understand.”
His sleek eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean? Your locket and my DVD tell us something important?”
My throat feels raw, but I answer around my emotions, my voice scratchy and foreign. “Yes. Don’t you see? My locket tells us who we are and where we came from—Dissident, part Other. Lucas’s music, with the words that are more than the sum of their parts, that things are not always what they seem. Pax’s book—and the boys who are all affected by the faraway war--that it’s impossible to hide from the world, or from yourself.”
It’s all clear to me now, though I’m explaining it badly and Deshi hasn’t read the beautiful words in Lucas’s little booklet or felt the sorrow and discomfort threaded through A Separate Peace .
“And It’s A Wonderful Life ?” He gives me a small smile, as though it’s a test.
“It’s your truth, Desh,” I say, using Pax’s nickname for him on purpose. “What do you think it is?”
He stares at me for a long time, but there’s no inkling as to his thoughts. Then he turns and disappears into the tunnel.
After a minute I let the warmth in my hand go out, plunging my dungeon cage back into darkness. It’s ironic that Deshi doesn’t want to analyze his message wrapped around Ko’s note. I think his message is that although life may not turn out the way you dreamed it would, it’s still right and good. That even though Deshi did not expect to be a Dissident, or to be asked to fight the captors he’s come to care for, he is built to do so. It is right and good.
Chapter 8.
There’s no way I can sleep. It’s longer than I expect before someone comes—long enough that I’m thirsty again and have been forced to mess up my nice non smelly room—and when a face does finally appear, I’m even more surprised to see Zakej.
I figured they would send the Goblert to get me; a half-breed is the only being lowly enough to ferry me back and forth, or something like that.
“Get over here.”
My legs don’t want to support me, my feet don’t want to go anywhere near him. I can’t figure out what point there would be in making a scene, though, so I follow directions. He waves a hand, displacing the bars the same way Deshi did, and twists his fingers in my hair, which is down because I was in the process of redoing my ponytail.
He jerks my head back, and a whimper escapes before I can find a way to stop it. “Spare me the girlish
“No.” Deshi jerks his hand out of mine, stumbling back until he bumps into the marble bars. He turns, waves his hand, steps outside, and replaces the bars in one fluid movement. From outside, his eyes lock onto mine.
I see nothing but fear.
“People are better off this way. In a few months, the Others will move on. The veils or whatever they are will disintegrate and humans will be fine. There’s no need for us to do anything, and the planet doesn’t need help.” His words tremble, banging around in the air like blocks. Like someone had stacked his beliefs into something solid and I just scattered them all over the ground.
“Deshi. You’ve done a lot for me already. You healed my burns, you kept me from going insane in here. You let me say good-bye to Pax and Lucas.” I swallow the pain that flares with their names. “One more thing. Please. Go to the cabin. Meet Wolf. Talk to Brittany. If you still think letting us die in here is the right thing to do, fine.”
“How do we know the ‘right thing,’ Althea? No one has ever been honest with us. Not ever.”
The desperate ache in the words hit a familiar longing inside me, but now that I’ve seen Deshi’s film, I’m more convinced than ever that it’s not true. “Ko has. Our notes, they’re true. And he wrapped them in gifts that explain this world we don’t understand.”
His sleek eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean? Your locket and my DVD tell us something important?”
My throat feels raw, but I answer around my emotions, my voice scratchy and foreign. “Yes. Don’t you see? My locket tells us who we are and where we came from—Dissident, part Other. Lucas’s music, with the words that are more than the sum of their parts, that things are not always what they seem. Pax’s book—and the boys who are all affected by the faraway war--that it’s impossible to hide from the world, or from yourself.”
It’s all clear to me now, though I’m explaining it badly and Deshi hasn’t read the beautiful words in Lucas’s little booklet or felt the sorrow and discomfort threaded through A Separate Peace .
“And It’s A Wonderful Life ?” He gives me a small smile, as though it’s a test.
“It’s your truth, Desh,” I say, using Pax’s nickname for him on purpose. “What do you think it is?”
He stares at me for a long time, but there’s no inkling as to his thoughts. Then he turns and disappears into the tunnel.
After a minute I let the warmth in my hand go out, plunging my dungeon cage back into darkness. It’s ironic that Deshi doesn’t want to analyze his message wrapped around Ko’s note. I think his message is that although life may not turn out the way you dreamed it would, it’s still right and good. That even though Deshi did not expect to be a Dissident, or to be asked to fight the captors he’s come to care for, he is built to do so. It is right and good.
Chapter 8.
There’s no way I can sleep. It’s longer than I expect before someone comes—long enough that I’m thirsty again and have been forced to mess up my nice non smelly room—and when a face does finally appear, I’m even more surprised to see Zakej.
I figured they would send the Goblert to get me; a half-breed is the only being lowly enough to ferry me back and forth, or something like that.
“Get over here.”
My legs don’t want to support me, my feet don’t want to go anywhere near him. I can’t figure out what point there would be in making a scene, though, so I follow directions. He waves a hand, displacing the bars the same way Deshi did, and twists his fingers in my hair, which is down because I was in the process of redoing my ponytail.
He jerks my head back, and a whimper escapes before I can find a way to stop it. “Spare me the girlish
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