“It’s tradition, you understand, and practical besides. Those who fail demonstrate a fundamental inability to thrive in the Once-City. But I shouldn’t say more at the moment. All will be made clear soon, once you meet the Council.”
Too tired for shock or surprise, Kindred could only nod.
“Pass!”
“Pass!”
The two watchers to her left loosed their shouts at nearly the same time, and then they were standing and opening the cells, smiling as Kindred’s watcher had, rushing in to congratulate.
“Yes!” the man beside Kindred said, clapping his hands again before turning to Kindred and wrapping her in an embrace.
What is happening? The thought dribbled through Kindred’s mind.
“Two more citizens!” he said, pulling back. “And let me guess—both harvesters? They’re both harvesters, right? They have that half-mad look.”
Kindred watched as Scindapse and Cora the Wraith were carried from their cells, both looking like Kindred felt: exhausted, powerless, bewildered. Their watchers, too, gagged them and began excitedly whispering with each. Kindred longed to wrap Scindapse in a hug. The girl looked even younger in her misery.
Cora the Wraith looked past her watcher to Kindred before looking pointedly away. Scindapse looked at Kindred with glazed, unseeing eyes and did not turn away.
Kindred didn’t know which was worse.
“Just one more to go,” the man said, turning toward the last watcher perched outside the last holdout, the last test taker: Long Quixa.
“I’m Seraph, by the way.” He grasped her hand as he introduced himself. “Hey,” he said, looking around, secretive, “if I take your gag off and give you some food, will you be able to keep quiet? I’m sure you’re hungry.”
Seraph reached into a pocket of his grubby robes and pulled out a few crisped stalks of a plant Kindred had never seen before.
She nodded, her eyes fixed on the food in his hand. She could smell it, and the gag crossing her mouth pulsed with saliva. She was so hungry.
Seraph pulled the gag away and held it away from himself as it dripped.
“I’ll just leave this,” he muttered, dropping the gag on the floor nearby.
Before the food, before anything else, Kindred spoke, the words like dried wood splintering in her throat.
“Where is Sarah?”
“Who?” Seraph frowned and shook his head.
“My . . . Our . . .” Kindred said, pausing to cough once. “. . . crow-caller.”
“Oh! She’s receiving medical care—but she’s fine! No need for her to take the test, of course. But she’s fine. And your captain too, of course! They’ll both be fine.” Seraph smiled, real kindness in his eyes, and it was enough—knowing that Sarah was okay, that the captain was okay, knowing that neither of them were in a cell somewhere, dead or dying—to loosen every bit of strength holding Kindred back.
Tears in her eyes, she scooped the food from Seraph’s hand. Her jaw hurt, and her throat still clicked painfully, but she didn’t care. She shoved the stalks into her mouth. One, two, all of them, chewing with desperation, too fast to taste the food. Soon, they were gone, leaving behind a few stray fibers in her teeth and a half-remembered sting of something savory and smoky.
It was enough to remind her how empty her stomach was. She needed more.
Seraph laughed and rooted around in his pockets, coming up with a few more scraps of food: some she recognized, most she didn’t. Kindred ate it all: a rolling handful of whitish berries, sweeter and more refreshing than any she’d ever eaten, a crumpled leaf veined with red, two short roots still ticked with dirt but delicious all the same.
She ate.
“I didn’t know pirates ate so well,” she said through a mouthful.
Seraph’s face twisted in disgust.
“Oh, no, those branch-dwelling fanatics don’t eat anything like this. It’s all bird meat and dried stalks with them.”
“You’re not a pirate?” Kindred asked, chewing more slowly as her stomach rumbled with discomfort.
“Gods, no! You don’t think everyone in the Once-City is a pirate, do you?”
Kindred couldn’t even bring herself to nod at him.
“The pirates are only one of the factions, and while I won’t deny they’ve gained in numbers recently—enough to gain a majority on the Council—they certainly aren’t everyone here! The pirates live above, up in the branches of the tree. Zealots one and all—downright fanatical in their pursuits. But some of us still keep the old ways and don’t resort to plundering innocents.” He gave a little shiver.
The old ways. Kindred blinked at that, just as the last watcher shouted out the verdict.
“Pass!”
* * *
The four of them—Kindred, Cora the Wraith, Long Quixa, and Scindapse—met in the hallway. The other three exchanged nods, hugs. Scindapse looked the worst off. Her eyes, normally alight with excitement and interest, roamed the hallway with hollow apathy, glazed over. Loose, mottled skin cuffed her neck, and her hands skittered against her legs like bugs.
“I’m sorry,” Kindred said, trying and failing to meet their eyes.
Cora the Wraith put her arm around Scindapse and held her there, protective.
“You’re not part of this crew,” Cora the Wraith said, her voice bereft of every bit of the wry humor Kindred had come to expect of it. Her eyes were bright with betrayal and anger. “You got what you want; now leave us alone.”
Behind her, Long Quixa stared at Kindred, her face morose and unmoving. Scindapse would not meet her eyes.
“I can still hear it,” Scindapse muttered, her eyes, wet with tears, rising briefly to Kindred’s before dropping away.
Seraph, who seemed oblivious, patted Kindred once on the shoulder before leaving. “I’ll be seeing you!” he said as he rushed off in the other direction.
Their watchers moved them forward, down the hallway. The other three walked ahead, and Kindred lagged behind, together but not.
“Berries,” Cora said to Quixa, nodding down at Scindapse, whom she kept a supportive arm around as they walked. “We both had berries growing right outside our cells. We ate them at the same time.”
“It was dew for me,” Quixa said.
“Me, too,” Kindred said to their backs.
“Maybe you had to eat or drink from the Sea?” Cora said, ignoring Kindred.
They walked out of the low hallway and into a vast, open space. Kindred stumbled as she tried to take it all in.