Green Jack (22 page)

The force
knocked Saffron to the ground. Pain screamed through her as if her
bones were the branches, her blood green sap. Heat shrivelled along
her spine. The grass growing on the edge of the clearing smoldered.
People screamed, she could see their open mouths but the sound of
the explosion had temporarily robbed her of all sound except a high
pitched ringing that throbbed like an open wound. Jane was sprawled
nearby, her head tucked under her arms in a poster-perfect
Directorate safety pose. Nico crawled toward Saffron but she waved
him off. The delicate Green Jill with the freckles needed more help
than she did. She was rocking back and forth, blood staining the
white mistletoe berries in her hair.

Another
explosion, this time from Caradoc’s cabin. It detonated invisible
energy, knocking out the power in the helicopters. Saffron
flattened herself down. “EMP,” she shouted at Jane. They used them
in the Core sometimes when the Elysians meddled with the jammers
that saved wifi and power for the Rings alone.

The helicopter
dipped, the propellers catching in the trees. There was no way to
get control back in time. It spun, landing on the other side of the
pond with a burst of light and noise.

They were left
with crackling flames and the groans of people digging themselves
out of debris. Saffron and Jane stood together, turning to assess
each other’s condition. “Are you okay?” Jane yelled. The smell of
smoke and burning sap lingered.

Saffron nodded,
pointing to her ears. A burr tumbled out of her mask, charred to a
tiny lump of coal. An old-fashioned hunting horn pierced through
her muffled hearing.

“That’s the
Green Jack’s call,” Nico shouted.

“What?”

He pointed at
her leaf mask then gave up and grabbed her arm, tugging her back
towards Caradoc’s cabin. She kicked the back of his ankle and he
released her. Roarke dropped off the roof, melted tar sticking to
his boots and soot on his face. “Idiot!” He yelled at Saffron. She
had no trouble hearing that. “You’re supposed to stay the hell down
during a raid.”

“I did!” She
yelled back. “What’s your problem now? Jane saved us with her
Oracle thing.”

“Not that,” he
growled, frustrated. “You went back for Julieta.”

She frowned.
“Who?”

“The girl who
fell, damn it.”

“Is that
supposed to be a thank you? ‘Cause you’re really bad at it.”

“You were
selfish.”

“Selfish?” she
squeaked. “I saved her life, you ingrate.”

“But it’s not
about us,” Caradoc interrupted, the hunting horn in his hand and
the other Green Jacks at his heels. “It’s not even about you. It’s
about the mask.”

“Oh, screw the
mask,” Saffron snapped. When someone gasped out loud, she nearly
snapped again. They were ankle deep in blood and fire. Their
priorities needed sorting. And the irony that she was supposed to
be feeling guilty for saving a Greencoat and not for killing a
soldier was not lost on her. She very carefully avoided looking in
the direction where she knew the body lay.

“How can we
help clean up?” Jane interrupted, ever the peacemaker. There was
already a bucket brigade gathering water from the lake. One of the
cabins was engulfed entirely in flames but the others looked mostly
salvageable. The end of a pier snapped off with a loud crack and
sank under water.

“Gardens
first,” Caradoc ordered.

“They weren’t
hit,” Livia jogged up. “But the palisades need work and the left
side of the apothecary was hit.” She noticed Jane and snarled.
“This is your fault. They tracked you with that damned Enclave
tattoo.” She hurled herself at Jane but Caradoc intercepted her,
snatching her calmly around the waist in mid-air.

“That’s not how
it works, Livia,” he said. Jane went pale, until her lips looked
faintly mauve. “It’s not,” Caradoc repeated. “They didn’t microchip
you, though they would have sooner or later. This wasn’t you. Not
the first raid, not the last.” He shook Livia sharply when she
struggled, fists raised. He dropped her unceremoniously. “Cool
off,” he ordered.

Saffron stomped
out an ember burning near her foot.

“Remind me
again how this place is safer than Elysium City?”

Chapter
34

Jane

By the time the
sun rose, everyone was already cleaning up the charred wet mess of
the camp and scavenging parts from the wreckage of the helicopters,
before moving to the training field on the beach. The sun was
fierce, another burning eye watching them. Jane studied the play of
light on the lake but couldn’t find any patterns. She kept being
distracted, thinking she’d glimpsed movement or a shift in colours
from the corner of her eye, but there was only Livia glaring at her
wherever she went.

Since she
wasn’t any use as an Oracle, she decided to go for a run. She
missed the sizzle in her blood and lungs and legs—so much more
enjoyable when she wasn’t running to escape yet another horrible
and messy end heading her way. She stretched lightly, heading out
before the heat of the day became oppressive. The trail was uneven
and narrow and she moved carefully, memorizing markers to find her
way back--- a jagged rock, a lightning struck tree. She stopped to
gather a branch from the split trunk. Lightning wood was rare and
the best kind for rune stones.

Back at the
camp she stopped for water, red-faced, panting, and down her
camisole and cargo pants. “Where have you been?” Caradoc strode out
from between two cabins, watching her intently.

She spilled
water, surprised at his sudden appearance. Embarrassed, she wiped
her chin. “I was running.”

“You just can’t
run off into the forest.”

She winced.
“Sorry. Are there bears? Wolves?”

“Men with guns,
sweetheart.”

She felt stupid
immediately. “Oh”

“This isn’t the
Collegium track.”

She wanted to
ask him how he knew about that. But he was too intimidating –
radiating confidence and resilience and a kind of silent power
you’d be a fool to challenge. He jerked his head to the beach were
Nico was whooping, and flinging a guy twice his size into the air.
“You’d be better served learning to defend yourself.”

She nodded and
felt like apologizing again but he’d already turned away. There was
a heavily tattooed girl scaling the wall up to his cabin roof.
“Satellite on the left, Augusta,” Caradoc told her.

“On it. Not
much I can do about the dying satellites.”

“I know.” He
glanced at Jane. “Any word on that at the Collegium?”

“Omens say the
satellites will only last until the end of the year, if that,” Jane
replied. She remembered Oracles in the common room blurting out
dates. “They’ve already restricted access. Enclave is trying to
make radio and television the new fashion.”

He snorted at
that. Jane didn’t know what else to say so she went to the training
circle, refusing to picture the blood on the linoleum in the
makeshift Amphitheatre, or Asher shoving her against the stairwell
wall. Nico quirked a finger in her direction. Everyone turned to
stare. “Your turn,” he called out.

She shook her
head. “I only know basic self-defence.”

“Figures,”
Livia sneered.

“But I’m good
with a bow,” Jane forced herself to add.

“Then you don’t
need to practice,” Nico pointed out. “Let’s go.”

Jane stepped
forward reluctantly, feeling the weight of the gazes of a dozen
Greencoats on her. She’d rather face another village full of Ferals
than all the scrutiny. Not to mention the fact that she was about
to have her ass handed to her. In pieces.

Nico shifted
from foot to foot, brown skin gleaming with sweat. “Show me what
you got.”

She planted her
feet the way she’d been taught, one slightly in front of the other
and lifted one arm to block, the other in a fist. She waited. Nico
waited, eyebrow raised. “Come at me,” he finally said. “What are
you waiting for?”

She’d been
waiting for him to attack. The Enclave taught her how to defend
herself and the parapet from arrows, attack, outright siege. They
weren’t exactly quick to teach its citizens how to fight first.
Jane took an awkward step forward. Livia snickered. “Knock him on
his ass, Jane,” Will called out cheerfully.

She launched
into a clumsy attack before she could talk herself out of it. Nico
sidestepped her easily, popping up behind her. She whirled,
swinging. He blocked her with the side of his arm, the force
jarring her teeth. He danced back. She followed, thinking
furiously. She wasn’t tall enough to kick him without him being
able to flatten her first. She briefly considered taking a fall in
order to grab a handful of sand to throw in his face, but it seemed
dishonourable.

The familiar
burn along her spine distracted her. Instead of gathering at the
base of her neck in an electrical storm of pain, it diffused,
branches of light curling up into her skull. She pushed all of her
concentration on controlling the numen coursing through her.

She attacked
blindly, knuckles skimming his shoulder. He pivoted, and grabbed
hold of her wrist, pushing her into the stumble so that she lost
her balance. A hit to the back of the knees and she suddenly had
sand in her teeth. She rolled over, coughing.

Caradoc’s
unsmiling face blocked out the sun and the sky and everything in
between. “That’s not good enough,” he said mildly.

She scowled.
“I’m aware.”

He grabbed her
by the elbow and hauled her to her feet. “You’re weak.”

She had nothing
to say to that. She crossed her arms mutinously, something
undefined boiling under her usual politeness. She fisted her hands
without realizing it. He glanced at them. “Better,” he said. “But
not good enough.”

He nodded at
Nico. “Again.”

Chapter
35

Saffron

Saffron looked
up at the Green Jill sleeping serenely in a tree. Only her pale
hair gave her away, and the profusion of white berries in her mask
which was drawn down to cover her face. “I’m not sleeping in a
tree,” Saffron said.

“You don’t have
to,” Annie grinned. “Madeleine just prefers the forest.”

Saffron noticed
the lines of silky scar tissue on the wrists dangling over them.
“What happened to her?”

“We got her out
of a Directorate farm dome. Eventually. She’s never entirely
recovered.”

Her wrist bones
nearly poked through translucent skin. “How long ago was that?”
Saffron asked.

“A year and a
half.” Annie’s smile slipped.

Saffron stepped
back. “I’m going to need more knives.”

Annie nodded.
“I can fix you up. After.”

Saffron felt
something dangerously close to a pout forming on her face. “I’m not
exactly the meditating type.” And it wasn’t the kind of training
she had in mind. Frankly, she’d rather eat dirt.

“A shocking
revelation.”

“I don’t see
the point.”

“Because you
haven’t done it yet,” Annie pointed out.

“Are you
telling me, you meditate?”

Annie
snorted.

“Thought so,”
Saffron muttered.

“I’m not a
Green Jill.”

Saffron lifted
the leaf mask off her head, though the burst of her braids. “Want
to trade places?”

“That’s not
funny,” a Green Jack stormed out of the trees. His mask was a
profusion of oak leaves, elm leaves, all sharp and pointed as
swords. “It’s a gift, an honour.”

Saffron
shrugged. “Easy, Jack. It’s not a gift I asked for.”

“People die for
us. You should be grateful.”

“And you should
probably back the hell off.” Saffron returned, easing slightly
sideways into a bar brawl stance. He towered over her, tall and
heavily muscled enough to remind her of Iago from the sideshow. She
doubted he’d let her throw knives at him like Iago did though.

Annie slipped
between them, expression stern. “Enough.” She lifted both her
elbows, jabbing each of them in the solar plexus at the same time.
“Saffron, meet Hakim. Hakim meet Saffron.”

“You started
without me,” someone drawled, interrupting. “And you know how I
love foreplay.”

Saffron turned
an incredulous glare at the newcomer. Another Green Jack, but this
one was smirking and shirtless. In fact he didn’t appear to be
wearing much more than leaves.

Annie sighed at
him. “River, I thought we talked about wearing pants.”

“But think of
camp morale,” he grinned. “My fine ass is the very best morale
booster.”

“Is he for
real?” Saffron asked.

“Unfortunately,” Hakim replied.

“You’re the new
Jill,” River said, circling Saffron. “Lovely.” He leaned
closer.

“I
wouldn’t.”Saffron raised an eyebrow.

“Pity.” He
flicked one of the burrs clinging to her hair, “Weeds and spiky
plants, my little thistle. But you’re still not the most dangerous
one of us.”

She flicked a
glance to Hakim’s muscles. Amused, River shook his head. He pointed
to Madeleine. “Mistletoe and snowberries, all poisonous.” He
reached up to tickle her palm. “Wake up, beautiful.” When her
fingers entwined with his, he tugged her out of the tree, catching
her when she fell. Her long hair brushed the ground, scattering
berries. She backed away, eyes wide, when she saw Saffron.

“It’s okay,”
Annie assured her briskly. “This is Saffron.”

Saffron had no
idea how to deal with frail, damaged girls. She tried to smile but
Madeleine only blanched. “Too many knives on you,” River explained.
Saffron only had two, which wasn’t nearly enough.