Green Jack (36 page)

Saffron
grinned. “So you did. And apparently the leaf mask threw a tantrum
and abandoned me,” she added wryly. “Ungrateful hunk of dirt.” She
raised her eyebrows at Jane’s crown. “I guess that makes you a Jill
as well now.”

She touched the
rose petals wonderingly. “I guess so.”

“Let me give
you a tip,” Saffron said pushing to her feet. “These things are a
pain in the ass.” She hugged Jane briefly. “Thank you.” The oak
tree ruffled its leaves over them.” Saffron glanced up. “Oh, shut
it.”

“My numen is
different than the others,” Jane added hesitantly. Kiri snorted at
the understatement. “I’m not exactly sure what it means but I think
we’re linked now. The leaf mask split into two.”

“It’s what the
Directorate have been trying to do all along,” Caradoc said
quietly. “What my sister has been obsessed with.”

“And Jane did
it in seconds without hurting anyone,” Saffron gloated.

Jane glanced at
Kiri. “Almost anyone.”

Kiri tried to
smile around her split lip. “You’re going to tell me what’s going
on eventually, right?”

“Promise.”

“And you
basically stuck it to that bitch Cartimandua?”

“Yes.”

Kiri touched
the bloody gash on her face. “Good enough for now.”

“I like her,”
Saffron said.

“Careful,
that’s two Enclave girls you like,” Jane teased.

She recoiled in
mock horror, before glancing at Killian. “Let’s go home. Just for a
minute before we go back to running for our lives. I want to see
Oona.”

Saffron hurried
through the deserted streets. Caradoc’s brow furrowed as he looked
around. “Is that his celebration face?” Safffron asked Roarke. “It
needs work.”

“No, that’s his
we’re-all-going-to-die face.”

“But I’ve
already done that today.” Her giddy good humour faded when Caradoc
paused. He was staring down the empty street. She turned to follow
his gaze. It was definitely strange but everyone was in the
amphitheatre. She decided he was overreacting.

Until she
noticed the red dust on the windowsills.

“Oona.”

They were
already so close to home, too close. Dust spilled out of the
doorways, glittering on broken glass. She kicked an empty canister
as she broke into a run. “Saffron, wait!” Roarke swore. Killian was
already at her side, thundering into the apartment building. The
stairwell was thick with dust. She burst into their apartment,
dread and fear prickling inside her rib cage. Killian hovered in
the doorway, out of the sight of the security camera. If they found
out he was alive, his family would suffer for it.

The living room
window was broken and light fell in, shining on Papu, covered in
rust and blood. Saffron wasn’t sure if she was breathing or sobbing
or both as she fell into Oona’s room. Too late, too late.

Oona was in her
rocking chair, blood streaking her dusty cheeks like tears. She was
so still, gone. She thought someone might be holding her hand but
she couldn’t tell. She couldn’t feel anything but the pressure in
her chest. She staggered into the hall. Killian moved, as if he was
going to step into the apartment towards her but she held up her
hand.

“This is what
Cartimandua was really doing,” Caradoc said after a horrified
pause. “The amphitheatre trials were mandatory, just like Festival
days.”

“Except for the
ill,” Saffron continued dully as Jane stepped forward to close
Oona’s eyes. “And the old.” Everything inside her went sharp. She
was surprised her leaf mask didn’t turn to knives.

“They’re
Dusting the City,” Jane explained when Livia and Kiri looked
confused. “It will kill anyone who’s not in the amphitheatre.”

“She’s
culling,” Caradoc added. “Before the grid goes down entirely.”

“Less people to
feed,” Jane agreed, so quietly Saffron could barely hear her over
the thudding of her heart. Oona’s garden had taken over the fire
escape, blooming thick and green with the Green Jack’s soil.
Saffron had really thought she was saving her.

Caradoc was at
the window, peering through the peas curling up the sill. “They’re
sending drones,” he said quietly. She could see the tinge of red to
the air. “They haven’t finished.”

Saffron
remembered Oona talking about the Green Jack, how no one deserved
to die alone. She turned back to the others. “How do we stop them?
How do we stop them?” she yelled when no one answered her.

“We have
virtually no weapons,” Caradoc said. “And there must be hundreds of
the drones out there right now.”

“And is she
wrong?” One of the Green Jacks asked. He held up his hands when
Saffron snarled at him. “I hate the bitch as much as you do, but
when the last of the tech goes, it will be chaos. As bad as the
Cataclysms.”

“No,” Saffron
said very clearly. “That is not a plan. That is giving up. We were
too late for my Oona and Papu, like hell we’ll be too late for
everyone in the Core. Like hell that bitch is going to win. She
doesn’t get to kill our people to save hers.”

“We might not
have weapons like the Directorate,” Jane added. She already smelled
like mint and roses. “But we have Green Jacks. And that means we
have the trees.”

“An army of
trees,” Roarke said. “It’s something.”

“And Elysium
City is a forest of sorts, just like the Spirit Forest. It must
have a Mother tree,” Saffron said. “If we can link to it, the all
of the trees will be ours.”

“They’re moving
east from the fourth district,” Caradoc said, still at the window.
The bonebirds were already circling. “Cartimandua will keep
everyone in the amphitheatre for a few more hours at least. Long
enough for the dust to settle. Literally.”

“We’ll help,”
two of the Green Jacks said, including the one who’d just wondered
if Cartimandua was doing the right thing. The third had already
passed out on the floor. His bones poked out of his linen
shirt.

“I’ll go with
you then,” Caradoc continued. He nodded at Kiri. “You stay here
with the other one.”

“You could stay
too,” Saffron suggested to Killian. “I can’t lose everyone,
Killian.”

He met her
eyes. “No. My father died to stop the Dust. I’m not staying here.
I’m going to do what he couldn’t do. And I’d never leave you,
Foxfire.”

She knew he
wouldn’t stay. Caradoc was still working out a plan, but she was
already running out the door. The Core was the colour of fox
fur.

When they
reached the fifth district, they were too late. They had to double
back and circle to the sixth, crouched on either side of the
street. Saffron pressed her hands against a towering maple tree. It
rustled, growing bright buds, green as butterfly cocoons. Saffron
pushed harder, willing the branches to reach out like hands, like
swords and spears. The drones whirred and clicked like giant
poisonous insects as they approached. Silver canisters were tossed
into window, one after the other. She heard a scream cut off
abruptly.

“Talk to the
Mother Tree,” she leaned into the tree so desperately the bark
scratched at her arms, leaving welts. “Tell her we need her. We
need you all.”

Jane was
wrapped around an ash tree, muttering some kind of Woodwife prayer.
Her ash tree dipped over the sidewalk, into the street. It was slow
painful work. Saffron blinked sweat out of her eyes. She could feel
all of the bones in her body, too sharp, too hollow. Green Jack
skeletons flashed in her head. She pushed the images away.

The drones were
too close.

There was a
beep as one hovered, turning a metal eye in their direction.

“Get down!”
Roarke crashed into her just as the bullets hit the tree,
shattering the trunk. Shrapnel bit into her back and her legs like
a thousand wasps. She scrambled back to her feet. She had to reach
the next tree. More bullets came and Roarke was there again,
knocking her down. “Are you nuts?”

Killian
crouched behind a car, using Roarke’s rifle to pick off the drones
as they closed in. A dryad tossed what looked like human bones at
the drones that drifted too close to her tree.

“We almost have
it,” Saffron insisted, stretching towards the tree until her
shoulder screamed. Her fingers brushed a root. A little further.
Something tore in her rotator cuff but she was able to wrap her
hand around the root. Burrs prickled into her hair and the back of
her neck. She didn’t know where the Mother tree was, only that it
was connected through the roots that traveled underground, just
like the rebel tunnels. She pushed every ounce of energy into her
plea. Jane was curled limply around her tree, dropping black
berries from her mask. They rolled across the sidewalk.

Slowly, slowly,
the trees reached out, tangling branches. A barricade of leaves and
flowers began to form, creaking and rustling. The other trees
responded, like lightbulbs switching on. Oak and ash and maples
curved over the street and stretched in front of buildings.

The drones
crashed into each other, caught in the trees, and shattered on the
concrete. Canisters rolled into the gutter.

“Run!”

Saffron was too
weak, too empty. There was only green sap, only roots digging down,
only fire moving through her and burning her hollow. Someone was
carrying her.

The trees
continued to grow over them, shedding petals and catkins. They
trapped the drones until they plummeted, falling like metal
rain.

The Core was
safe.

For now, at
least.

Chapter
62

Jane

Jane felt like
she’d turned to dandelion fluff and might blow away entirely. She
could smell the roses and the mint of her mask. Caradoc held her
tightly until they found an abandoned building to hide in. The
basement was Dusted but empty except for boot prints. Soldiers had
already swept, they’d be safe enough, at least for a little while.
Saffron wanted to back for her grandmother but she didn’t know what
to do with the body. She couldn’t bury it, couldn’t burn it. She
couldn’t even walk.

Before she
left, Shanti told them the other Ferals had left before the drugged
strawberries were brought out, feeling too trapped in the subway
tunnels. Anya and Shanti had stayed, to buy at least two more
months of a Green Jill’s life in their gully gardens. Jane promised
they would get their two months but her words slurred with
exhaustion and she wasn’t sure Shanti believed her.

Jane slept for
two days, waking only when Kiri forced her to drink water. The
bruises on her face were healing and someone had found her new
clothes to wear. Caradoc left to scout the area on a regular basis
but he was always there when Jane woke. She dreamt of Green Jacks,
burning satellites falling to earth, red dust under her
fingernails. She woke with a startled yelp, the back of her neck
damp with sweat.

Caradoc looked
over from his post at the window. She could make out the shapes of
the others, still asleep. It must be late. “Okay?” Caradoc
asked.

She nodded,
pushing the mask off her face. Rose leaves itched.
I am the
earth where seeds of wisdom grow.
She might not feel
particularly wise but the rest of the prayer was suddenly true in a
way it never had been before. She might one day, literally, be
earth.

“Drink more
water,” Caradoc passed her a plastic jug. She drank, tasting mint
and roses. He shrugged. “Your friend Kiri insisted on taking some
leaves from your mask for the water. She says it tastes like
home.”

“It does.” She
touched the mask, the mint leaves that tangled with her hair. Her
numina mark felt cool, like spring water. She was used to it
burning.

“Does it
hurt?”

“No,” she said.
“It just feels odd.” She’d never expected to be anything but Jane,
a shy Oracle from the Enclave. She didn’t know what it meant to be
a Jill. Fear and excitement thrummed through her. “I guess this is
the new me.” She drank more water, forced herself to stay calm. “Do
you think Cartimandua is right? About the power being the next to
go?”

He nodded. “The
grid has been on the edge for years. Most of it is older than the
Cataclysms. The rest is cobbled together from pieces that aren’t
much better. Not enough manpower, not enough supplies.”

“At least we
can make more masks now,” she said. “Or try to, anyway.”

“Will Kiri
help?”

“I think so.
She can’t go back home. I think she’ll like it at the camp,” she
smiled wryly. “Once she gets used to it.”

“We’ll protect
you, Jane,” Caradoc said, eyes pinning hers. “I’ll protect
you.”

She smiled
softly. “I know. I’ll protect you too. And I think I’ll probably
make a better Jill than a Greencoat.”

“But you’ll
still come home with me?” He asked hoarsely.

“Of course.
Isn’t that where Green Jacks go?”

“No.” He
crouched in front of her. There was still blood on his shirt, dried
paint on his collarbone. “So you’ll come home with me?” he
repeated, taking one of her hands.

She caught her
breath. She’d been so afraid that she’d stopped being the girl from
the Enclave to him, only long enough to become a Green Jill. To
become another responsibility.

She nodded,
words tangling in her throat. He lifted her hand, pressing a kiss
to the inside of her wrist. She felt rosebuds blossoming in her
hair. She leaned into him.

The building
shook, dirt raining through the cracks and crevices. An alarm
pierced the darkness.

Saffron sat up.
“Jacking hell, the Elysians are rioting again.”