Green Jack (28 page)

“Show off,”
Saffron called out.

Roarke aimed
the end of the staff at Jane’s heart, stopping a hairsbreadth from
touching her. Or would have, if she hadn’t already moved back a
step. She called up the burn of the numen traveling up her spine,
of the roots of lights it sent into her skull, showing her flashes
of what wasn’t there yet. Roarke came at her again and again, and
again and again she anticipated moves he hadn’t decided to make
yet. It filled her with a calm that was cold and numbing, like a
winter pond.

Roarke finally
stopped and leaned on the staff, sweating. “I admit it. I’m
impressed.”

“She’s getting
good,” Saffron agreed. “But Jane, the Directorate is always
better.”

Chapter
47

Saffron

“Council
cabin,” Annie interrupted them from the edge of the beach.
“Now.”

Saffron had
never been inside the council room, it looked like most of the
others, except all of the tables had been pushed together to form a
single massive one in the centre. There were maps on the walls that
had Saffron itching to fix perspective and shading. Caradoc was
bent over more maps, the set of his mouth uncharacteristically
hard. “I’ve just gotten word,” he said, without preamble. “The
Program goes public in a few days with mandatory opening
celebrations in the amphitheatre.”

“What’s that?”
Saffron asked. She’d heard Jane talk about it in her sleep
sometimes.

“It’s partly
about holding public Trials in the new Amphitheatre,” Caradoc
explained. “To find someone strong enough to wear the mask. And
partly about letting people get killed so no one has to feed
them.”

Saffron thought
of Madeleine and River, and even herself; of soldiers and guns and
a wall full of electricity. “They’re looking for the wrong kind of
strength.”

“Maybe,”
Caradoc said. “But that won’t stop them, not now. Cartimandua is
not known for her long philosophical debates. They’ve started to
take away anyone under the age of sixteen with any particular
talent for numen or violence, the younger the better. The Tagging
centres are also Testing centres. The Elysian rebels have been
finding the bodies of those who don’t make it.”

“They have
houses built in the Amphitheatre,” Jane added. “Where genetically
coordinated couples will be forced to live and breed Green Jack
babies. It’s supposed to be an honour.”

Saffron watched
her carefully. “Is that why you ran away?”

“Yes.”

“Good choice.
So why exactly are you going back to that again?”

“The good news
is that the bounty on Jane is not public yet,” Caradoc cut in.
“It’s internal. Only Directorate.” He looked up at her across the
table. “I need to know everything you know about the Program and
the Amphitheatre.”

Jane told them
everything she could until Saffron began to think that being a girl
from the Enclave wasn’t any better than being a girl from the Core.
“I do not miss the City.” She turned to Caradoc. “So what does this
have to do with the Greencoats?”

He smiled and
it was the slow burning of a fuse attached to more dynamite than
the world could handle. “Cartimandua will parade her Green Jacks
around the Amphitheatre, to prove to the Elysians that she is in
control. That means all of the Jacks will be in one place at the
same time.”

“How do you
know that?” Jane asked him. It was a lot to base on an
assumption.

“Because
Cartimandua is my sister.” Silence thrummed between them. Jane
lowered herself into a chair. Saffron’s eyebrows disappeared
somewhere under a cluster of burrs. His jaw clenched. “She started
training with the Protectorate when she was sixteen, with our
father long before that. He was a Director.”

“Hell of a
family reunion,” Saffron muttered.

Caradoc’s mouth
twitched with a ghost of a smile. “I might be the only one who can
stop her,” was all he said. “At the very least, I know how she
thinks.”

“And I thought
Killian was good at keeping silent,” Saffron said. “I’m going with
you.”

Caradoc shook
his head. “We’re not taking a Jill into the City.”

“I’m not just a
Jill,” she argued. “I know the City better than anyone.” She tore a
map off the wall and slammed it onto the table. “Where’s the
meet-point with the rebels?” When he rattled off a bunch of street
names, she pointed. “There.”

“So we’ll mark
it and you’ll stay here,” Annie said.

“How would you
get there?” Saffron challenged. Caradoc sighed at the map, choosing
a route. “That road’s blocked off because of flooding. This one is
full of soldiers hanging out in the alleys. And that turn you just
made? You’ll get taken out by the sniper in that building. He
doesn’t have a gun, but he likes to piss out of the window.” She
folded her arms smugly. “I think I’ve made my point. If you’re
seriously thinking of taking on the Directorate in their own
territory, you need me.”

Jane bent her
head, rubbing the base of her skull. The dimming solar lamps cast
shadows on the table in front of them. “What do you see, Jane?”
Caradoc asked quietly.

“I don’t know,”
she said, frustrated. “Horses, swords, lightning. Danger, blood.
Nothing unexpected.” She tried harder, until she made a small mew
of pain. She shook her head. “There’s no plan yet,” she said. “So
there’s no way to know how it will go wrong.”

“Well, that’s
encouraging,” Saffron said.

Chapter
48

Jane

Dawn gave way
to the searing afternoon sun by the time they reached the edge of
the Badlands. They had weapons, food, water bags, and several
Protectorate uniforms— very little of which would help them cross
the parts of the Badlands that belonged to the Ferals. The cracked
red hills stretched out as far as they could see.

“Well, this is
going to be fun,” Saffron said. “Think they erected statues in our
honour?”

“Definitely.
And at least one festival day,” Jane said, smiling despite herself.
“Certainly a rousing folk song.”

“What did you
two do now?” Roarke asked.

Saffron
shrugged. “We burned down their gardens.”

“And possibly
the entire village,” Jane added helpfully.

“And see how I
exhibit no surprise,” Roarke murmured.

“They started
it.”

“Is there a way
around?” Saffron asked Caradoc who stood squinting in the sun.
“Which will piss me off, by the way, since that would have been
helpful information the last time we were here.”

“There’s a
Directorate road,” Caradoc replied. “But it would add two weeks to
our trip. And even with the soldiers mostly called back for the
Trials, I wouldn’t like our odds.”

Jane wiped
sweat off her forehead. “Hoods, maybe? Or some kind of
disguise?”

Saffron’s smile
was slow and sharp. “I have a better idea.” Roarke groaned. She
turned her shoulder to him pointedly and addressed Caradoc. “We
need more fighters.”

“Always.”

“Ferals, I have
to point out, are damned good fighters.”

“But they’re
not mercenaries,” Caradoc reminded her.

“But they hate
the Directorate as much as I do. So I know I can change their
minds.”

“How?”

“I have
something they want,” she explained. “Me.”

“Saffron, no,”
Jane said, horrified. She remembered vividly Saffron lying
unconscious on her pallet, and the light glinting off Shanti’s
spear.

Saffron just
shrugged. “They want a Green Jill.”

“You’re not
just going to give yourself to them,” Roarke said harshly.

“Of course not.
I’m not a martyr, or an idiot. But I can trade a visit or two to
sit in the garden, in exchange for some of their warriors.”

Caradoc looked
intrigued. “The soldiers wouldn’t know what to do with Ferals.” He
looked at Jane. “Do you agree with her assessment?”

Jane blinked,
not accustomed to being consulted. She thought of Elisande, of
Shanti and Anya and the angles of their bones under their skin
which could only come from hunger.“Yes,” she said reluctantly.
“They’ll do anything for a Green Jill.”

“What does she
know?” Livia broke in. “She’s just a--.”

“She knows
people,” Caradoc cut her off. “While we posture, she watches.”

“So here we go
then,” Saffron declared. Caradoc caught the back of her jacket,
pulling her to an abrupt halt. Her arms flailed.

“We send
messengers first,” he said. “With terms. And then we set out at
first light.”

“We don’t have
that kind of time!” Saffron protested impatiently.

“We don’t have
the time to be ambushed and skewered with spears either.”

“I’ll go,” Jane
offered quietly. Saffron’s eyebrows snapped together. “They’ll
recognize me.”

“Yeah, I’m not
so sure that’s a good thing.”

“But it will
make them more likely to believe that you’re here and willing to
negotiate.”

Saffron didn’t
look pleased but Jane knew she didn’t have a counter-argument.
Caradoc pointed at her. “You stay here. If they see you, they might
fight first and talk later. You have that effect.”

“Fine.” She
plucked a long purple thistle from the mask, wrapping it in
dandelion leaves and handing it to Jane. “Bring this.”

“That could be
from any plant at all,” Livia pointed out.

“It’s the same
cuttings I left after the fire,” Saffron explained curtly. “Anyway,
once they bring it to their gardens, they’ll see soon enough that
it’s not like regular weeds. It might not be as good as leaf mask,
but it still has some power.”

“I’ll go with
Jane,” Nico offered.

Jane shouldered
her pack, the water bags inside sloshing reassuringly. “Thank
you.”

Saffron hovered
next to her. “Don’t let them take you to the Underworld.” Jane just
snorted. “And don’t trust that little brat.”

“I know.”

“And don’t be
too polite.” She turned to Nico. “Don’t let her get killed.”

“Are you
kidding?” Nico checked his taser, and then pointedly adjusted the
sword strapped to his back. “I might still need her help with
Freya.”

“I’m telling
Will you admitted you needed help with your love life,” Jane
said.

He pulled her
hair lightly. “We have been a bad influence on you, girl.”

She sincerely
hoped so.

The Greencoats
were silhouetted in a line, watching them leave. The walk along the
spines of the clay hills was quick but demanded concentration and
care. The sun was a relentless companion. Nico was alert and
intense, unlike the casually confident person he was at camp. It
was partly reassuring, partly distracting. She stopped thinking
about it the moment she saw the first coyote. “On your left,” she
said softly. “Coyote.”

He turned,
swore under his breath. “Two more on the other side.”

“We’ve reached
the border,” Jane said, adrenaline flooding her so quickly she felt
her heart pounding in her teeth.

Chapter
49

Saffron

“Hell of a
family reunion,” Saffron said again to Roarke as they watched Jane
and Nico walk away.

“Aren’t you
going to ask me why I never told you?” he asked flatly.

“I wouldn’t
have told you either.”

He nearly
smiled at that. She’d meant it—she’d have kept that kind of
information to herself. But then she wasn’t the type to hold hands
over her feelings, even if they had slept together.

“Is Cartimandua
your mother?”

“No, thank the
Green.” He wouldn’t look at her. “She’s dead now. No one’s safe
from Cartimandua, not even her own sister.”

“Your
grandparents?”

“Also dead, not
because of her though. It’s just Caradoc and me.”

He seemed to
need something from her beyond compassion—and she blamed it on Jane
that she not only recognized that in him, but wished she knew what
it was so she could hunt it down for him. She sighed. Stabbing
people was so much easier.

“Jane will be
fine,” Roarke said, misreading her.

“Mmhmm.” Didn’t
he realize he was the one who needed comforting here? And why
wasn’t she pouncing on the subject change like Cerberus on a
scavenger? They walked on between the trees while she grew more and
more annoyed with herself.

“You don’t have
to babysit me, Saffron. I’ve always known who my aunt is.”

And just like
that, her annoyance turned back on him. Every word she wanted to
say felt like a knife in her mouth.

They heard the
snick at the same time.

It was faint,
easily overlooked if you’d never heard it before. But if you had,
there was no mistaking it. She went so cold, her scalp tightened
painfully.

“Stop!”

She wasn’t sure
who had yelled it, her or Caradoc, but it was too late. That click
always meant it was too late. There was no time to pinpoint its
exact location, only the slap of the tripwire slicing through
leaves towards the trigger. Crossbow bolts followed. Augusta was
the first to drop. Livia launched herself at Will, knocking them
both out of the way.

“Anyone hit?”
Caradoc asked.

Livia and Will
stood up gingerly. Livia pulled a bolt from her sleeve. “Not
really.”