The Isle (10 page)

Ren sits at the edge of the bed, eyes big with fear. She reaches one arm out toward me, like I'm a ghost back from the dead.

I've scared her with my nightmares.
“I'm all right,” I whisper quietly, watching her chew on her knuckles.

She touches my shoulder with the hand she's not chewing. “Are you?” she asks, and I hate it.

My dragon anger is back, burning my insides and
everything around me. “I'm fine!” I yell at her, but I can't yank the covers without fingers. Instead, I bury my head under the pillow, wishing that I weren't made of glass.

I'm not
.

I'm not broken.

A
fternoon sun punches through the windows, beating me awake too soon. When I open my eyes, I find I'm holding a palmful of Aven's tangled hair, like I'd been afraid she'd disappear in her sleep and I'd never get her back. She frowns, snoring ever so slightly, while the sun threatens the room with light.
Don't you dare wake her up
, I warn.
She needs rest.
Especially after what I saw last night. So damn terrified. Even in sleep she can't get peace. Just thinking about it, I'm a lit fuse. The monster made of teeth comes back, full force.

How could Voss have done this to her?

It makes no difference that he thought her hands might grow back—
he's evil.
He tortured Aven and called it “science.” Kept
medicine from the prisoners. Threatened to eradicate every sick person back home, banking on the Tètai to bring them the water . . .
just so he could steal it.

Every day that passes, I'm more and more convinced the world would be a better place without him.

Angrily, I throw on my new catsuit. As I strap on my blade, my wrist buzzes. I jump up and read so fast, you'd think the message was about to self-destruct.

           
I'm safe, I've got a way out. Ter's meeting me on Castle Islet, at Sybil's Cave. Will comm again when we're headed back to the Ward.

“Derek's alive,” I whisper, laughing to myself—he must've found the toilet water.
He's gonna be okay
. I draw the drapes tight so Aven can sleep longer, and step out into the hallway, searching for Callum.

“Derek's safe!” I announce, barging into his mostly dark lab.

A dim green light bathes the room. The tank he built to replicate the cave's ecosystem glows like a man-made universe. A smaller tank—a mini replica of the first—sits next to it. Everything inside is shriveled and dead. An unsuccessful experiment, no doubt.

I find Callum hunched over, peering through a microscope. He doesn't lift his head. “C'mon in.”

It takes an eternity for my announcement to travel the infinite voyage from his ears to his brain. When it does, he
forgets the 'scope. “I knew it!” he says at last, rushing across the room. “When did you hear from him?”

“Not five minutes ago. He's got an escape plan—Ter's meeting him at Sybil's Cave.”

“Sybil's Cave is close to Voss's mansion; he must be taking the causeway,” Callum says, inhaling. “It's quite risky.”

“Risky, why?” I ask quickly. “What's the causeway?”

Callum closes the door and offers me a chair, which I ignore. I like to hear uncomfortable news standing up.

“It's an underwater tunnel that runs between the lab and Governor Voss's mansion. Originally, it just led to a submarine employee docking lot, but for his convenience, Voss had it extended. Derek's not just sneaking out of the lab, he's sneaking out of the mansion as well.”

I shake my head. “Foolish.”

Callum realizes he's just given me a new worry. “I'm sure Derek has a plan,” he says, touching my elbow for just a second before pulling back. As if a second was too long. “Security will be tight, but with gala prepwork, his won't be the only unknown face around. Maybe it's not so foolish.”

I nod, hoping he's right.

Callum returns to his microscope. Peering down it, he looks perplexed. “Ren—” he begins, voice even. But the expression he's wearing . . . my nerves fire off warning shots. “I want to show you something.”

Callum slides the mini tank toward me. Inside, dead fungi and algae have sunk to the bottom. “Last night, after taking your blood sample, I got to work immediately on the serum.

“I used
this
eyedropper,” he says, wiggling it between his fingers, “to move it into a petri dish. Later, I used the same one to withdraw some water. By morning, the pH in the tank was off, and everything was dead.”

“And you think it's because of my blood?”

“Or blood in general, I'm not sure. But I'd like to run more tests, if that's all right.”

“Go for it,” I tell him. “Just let me down easy, if you find out I'm actually on death's door or something.”

Callum rolls his eyes. “Don't be ridiculous.”

“Hey,” I say, glancing toward the hall. “Before Aven wakes up, I want us to be on the same page about this whole prisoner-break-out mission she's totally gung ho on. You know she promised— I mean,
swore on her life
promised—that she'd go back there and get them out?”

I collapse into the foldable metal chair and groan. “How the hell would we swing that? There are hundreds of 'em!”

“I don't know.” Callum lifts his plastic goggles onto his forehead. “But I do believe we should try, at the very least, to consider getting them the serum—which we now have. After the eyedropper mixup, I followed the steps for the last batch exactly, adding your blood last. It's almost ready—I haven't yet filtered out the regeneration phytonutrients.”

“Jeez,” I say. “You must have been up the whole time!”

“There's an event I need to make an appearance at tonight. Thus, no lab work. I wanted to make sure it was mostly done.”

Reaching out to poke his elbow, I ask, “What's the event, Mr. Fancy Pants?”

Callum hesitates.
He doesn't want to tell me. Why not?
A moment later, he gestures toward the window, where a golden square envelope sits atop a metal filing cabinet. “Take a look,” he says, and hands me an invitation.

The lettering is emblazoned with swanky gold ink.

IN HONOR OF GOVERNOR VOSS

DR. JUSTIN CORY, you are cordially invited to an evening of merriment and gratitude. Please join us on Castle Islet at Governor Voss's home, where we will toast his recent success combatting the deadly HBNC virus.

Water and hors d'oeuvres will be served. Black-tie affair.

Seven o'clock.

I nearly choke on the bullshit. Voss didn't
give
the sick the medicine—
he stole it out from under their noses
. And now he gets a party?

Callum sees my disgust and rereads the invitation to himself. “I imagine he's hoping to curry the people's favor before drought season hits too,” he tells me. “The governor is quite aware of the Isle's financial situation—I don't doubt he has concerns that citizens might start rioting. You saw the protest. I believe it's just the beginning.”

I chuck the invitation back onto the filing cabinet.

“For the sake of discussion, say we wanted to free the
prisoners.” Callum lets the idea hang in the air, warming me up to it before going on. “How do you think you'd do it?”

I guess I shouldn't be surprised Callum doesn't want to give up so soon. The boy is too much like Aven, needing to do good all the time.

I'd start by killing Voss.

The invitation catches the early-afternoon sun, setting the gold paper on fire.

There's my chance
, I realize.

And it's burning up in front of my very eyes. Leaning forward, I say, “Honestly, Callum? I wouldn't even try. Getting the prisoners serum is one thing, but freeing hundreds from a high-security government lab? Where would we even bring them? Not only is it damn near impossible, but if you think about it—if you
really
think about it—that's not the problem. It's just a symptom of a much bigger issue.”

“You mean the governor,” he says, not skipping a beat.

I raise both hands like he's caught me saying something criminal. Thankfully, though, free speech is still kind of a thing—a civilized holdover from the Mainland days. “Getting rid of him? It's like that saying about the stone that kills both the birds. Except, instead of killing the birds, it saves them. And I'd count myself and Aven among those saved. Voss will never stop hunting the spring, or me, or her.”

“Could you do it?” he asks. “Assassinate him, I mean?”

I could. If I had the opportunity, I could.

I don't answer Calllum—the beast made of teeth sets me on edge if I look at it too closely.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Callum watching me, wondering. It lasts only a second: he don't need a straight answer.

I think he knows I'd do it.

O
ne single blade of sunlight carves between the drapes, slicing me in two. I wake fast and move out of its way.
It's just sunlight
, I tell myself.
Sunlight can't hurt
.

Looking around the room, I realize I'm glad Ren's not here. My nightmare woke me and now she thinks I'm broken. And for whatever reason—sheer stubbornness, probably—it makes me feel
less
broken. Like I want to fight back. Yawning, I lift myself up from the bed—

Something feels different. . . .

I
lifted myself
. I felt the bend of my wrists and the push of the mattress against my palms. I could be imagining it. It wouldn't be the first time. I almost don't want to look, but my fear isn't so big it stomps out my hope.

I scoot myself closer to the edge of the bed, and, using my teeth, I begin to unravel the gauze. It flies away from me, piling invisibly against the white sheets.
White wings.
The fluttering stops me cold as my dream—my nightmare—comes back, but the gauze is already off.

I gasp, dizzy.

I don't believe it
.

Pale skin, blue veins, and lines of new muscle have regrown up to my knuckles. Brand-new knuckles. There, the bones end, with only a little bit of finger webbing between them. It looks funny, but I'm not complaining. Turning my hand over, I inspect my palm. That's there too, complete with life lines and death lines.
Love lines
. The thought puts my heart in my stomach, and I think of green eyes.

I've been given it back, all of it. Almost.

They could grow more.

I laugh into the soft padded flesh of my palm. The knife in the back of my mind dulls, and I remember my promise to the stars.
I can do it
, I tell myself.
I can go back there.
I don't want to see the white room and the black room again, but with Ren, Callum, and Derek—I could do it.

I won't let my fear be the reason I don't keep my promise.

Jumping out of bed, I quickly grab my new comm. Using my teeth, I strap it to my wrist and run from the room.

“You guys!” I yell, throwing open the door to Callum's lab. I find him and my sister standing over the glass tanks, talking. “Look!” I hold two palms up to their faces, one for each.

Ren grabs my half hand with her full one. “Holy brack!”
she says. “I don't believe it!” She wiggles the soft triangle of flesh between my index finger and thumb, amazed. Then she rolls my hand over, tracing each new line like I just did.

“Do we think it'll keep growing?” I ask hopefully, trying to read my future. Some people say it's possible. I don't know if it works on yourself.

“I think it will,” Callum answers, drawing another vial. “Let's make sure, shall we?” He hands it to me as if it were a glass of white water: bubbly stuff that Ren sometimes drinks at Tank parties in the Ward. I take it between my palms, and I drink.

After topping it off with one last chug, I breathe deep. The water buzzes through my veins. The lightning sensation is back, only a tiny bit weaker.

“So. You guys,” I begin, my eyes bouncing back and forth between Callum and Ren. Fully supercharged with the water, my promise overrides all my fear. “Can we come up with a plan today? To get Mrs. B and Miss Nale and the others out?” I ask, throwing the words into the air like dice.

“Callum and I were just discussing it.” Ren avoids my eyes, hesitating. I hold my breath. “He suggested we, at the very least, try to get them the serum.”

I do a double take, not understanding. “Wait . . . are you saying we can't do it?”

She looks to Callum for backup.

“It would be quite difficult,” he agrees, spreading his arms wide and sighing.

I can't believe what I'm hearing. “But difficult is not impossible, right?” I ask in disbelief. This is what being dropped
from a skyscraper must feel like.

“Aven . . . ,” Ren starts, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Freeing hundreds of people from a top secret government lab ain't exactly a cakewalk. Honestly, I wouldn't know where to start. But getting them the serum? That we can talk about.”

I bite my lower lip to keep from crying.
I have to do this. I said I would. And I can go back now. . . . I'm not broken. I'm strong enough.

The tears come anyway.

“I'm sorry, Feathers,” she says, softer now. “I'm just not interested in risking both our lives so soon.
Your
life, especially. I just got you back, remember?”

“Then what did you save me for?” I shoot at her. “If not so that I can live my life . . . then why? What if I want to risk it? You're not my mother.”

Her face falls. Now I feel like I've just dropped her from a building.

She's not, though. I've been given a second chance, and this is how I want to use it.
Except—

I can't do it without her.

It's too late. The damage is done. Red-eyed, tear-streaked, I shake my head, because I don't know how to give up. Ren taught me that. I hear myself pleading with her like I'm a fly on the wall. I sound like the child I'm trying to prove I'm not.

I can't stop myself. “But I made a promise—”

“Exactly,” Ren spits, her forehead vein blue and pissed. “
You
promised. Not me. I didn't volunteer for this job.”

I stop breathing.
I—I can't believe her.
Can't she see how awful it is? Everyone believed me.
I'm a liar now.

Ren's comm buzzes.

I look away, pushing tears from my face, but I can't stop the crying. I already begged. I yelled. I'm still the child. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her spin around and do a little jump. She's happy.

“It's Derek,” she says. Exhaling, she reads his comm.

Her smile disappears.