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"I'm sorry, Cori
"Everyone here is someone's daughter," she says quietly. "Every soldier out there is someone's son. The only crime, the only crime is to take a life. There is nothing else."
"And that's why you don't fight," I say.
She turns to me sharply. "To live is to fight," she snaps. "To preserve life is to fight everything that man stands for." She takes an angry huff of air. "And now her, too, with all the bombs. I fight them every time I bandage the blackened eye of a woman, every time I remove shrapnel from a bomb victim."
Her voice has risen but she lowers it again. "That's my war," she says. "That's the war I'm fighting."
She walks back to her chair and picks up a bundle of cloth next to it. "And to that end," she says, "I need you to put these on."
She doesn't give me time to argue or even ask about her plan. She takes my apprentice robes and my own few much - washed clothes and has me put on poorer rags, a long - sleeved blouse, a long skirt, and a headscarf that completely covers my hair.
"Cori
"Shut up and hurry."
When I'm dressed, she takes me down to the end of the long hallway leading out to the riverside by the house of healing. There's a heavy canvas bag of medicines and bandages loaded up by the door. She hands it to me and says, "Wait for the sound. You'll know it when you hear it."
"Cori
"Your chances aren't very good, you have to know that." She's looking me in the eye now. "But if you get to wherever they're hiding, you put these supplies to use as a healer, do you hear me? You've got it in you whether you know it or not."
My breathing is heavy, nervous, but I look at her and I say, "Yes, Mistress."
"Mistress is right," she says and looks out of the window in the door. We can see a single bored soldier at the corner of the building, picking his nose. Cori
I blink. "What?"
"Strike me," she says again. "I'll need a bloody nose or a split lip at least."
"Cori
"Quickly or the streets will grow too crowded with soldiers."
"I'm not going to hit you!"
She grabs me by the arm, so fiercely I flinch back. "If the President comes for you, do you honestly think you'll return? He's tried to get the truth from you by asking and then by trapping your friend. Do you honestly think the patience of a man like that lasts forever?"
"Cori
"He will eventually hurt you," she says. "If you refuse to help him, he will kill you."
"But I don't know-"
"He doesn't care what you don't know!" she hisses through her teeth. "If I can prevent the taking of a life, I will do so, even one as irritating as yours."
"You're hurting me," I say quietly, as her fingers dig into my arm.
"Good," she says. "Get angry enough to strike me."
"But why-"
"Just do it!" she shouts.
I take in a breath, then another, then I hit her across the face as hard as I can.
***
I wait, crouched by the window in the door, watching the soldier. Cori
Thoughts of a girl he knew who died.
And then I hear the faint shout of Cori
It's a poor story; there's no way it's going to work. How could anyone sneak in with guards everywhere?
But I know what she's counting on. A legend that's been rising, a legend about the Answer.
How can the bombs be planted with no one seeing?
With no one being caught?
If the Answer can do that, could they sneak past armed guards?
Are they invisible?
I hear thoughts just like this as soon as I see the soldier's head snap up when he hears the ruckus. It grows louder in his Noise as he runs around the corner and out of view.
And as fast as that, it's time.
I hoist the bag of medicines up onto my shoulder. I open the door. I run.
I run toward a line of trees and down to the river. There's a path along the riverbank but I stick to the trees beside it and as the bag bashes my shoulders and back with heavy corners, I can't help but think of me and Todd ru
As much as I want to save Todd, my only chance is to find her first.
And then I'll come back for him.
I will.
I ain't never leaving you, Todd Hewitt.
My heart aches as I remember saying it.
As I break my promise,
(you hold on, Todd)
(you stay alive)
I run.
I make my way downriver, avoiding patrols, cutting across back gardens, ru
The valley is narrowing again. The hills approach the road and the houses begin to thin out. Once, I hear marching and I have to dive deep into the undergrowth as soldiers pass, holding my breath, crouching as low to the ground as I can. I wait until there's only birdcall (Where's my safety?) and the now distant ROAR of the town, wait for a breath or two more, then I raise my head and look down the road.
The river bends in the distance and the road is lost from view behind farther rolling hills and forests. Across the road here, this far from town, there are mostly farms and farmhouses, working their way up sloping hillsides, back toward more forest. Directly across, there's a small drive leading to a farmhouse with a little stand of trees in the front garden. The farming fields spread out to the right, but above and beyond the farmhouse, thicker forest begins again. If I can get up the drive, that'll be the safest place for me. If I have to, I'll hide until nightfall and make my way in the dark.
I look up and down the road again and once more. I listen for marching, for stray Noise, for the rattle of a cart.
I take in a breath.
And I bolt across the road.
I keep my eyes on the farmhouse, the bag banging into my back, my arms pumping the air, my lungs gasping as I run faster and faster and faster-Up the drive-Nearly to the trees-Nearly there-
And a farmer steps out from behind them.
I skid to a stop, sliding in the dirt and nearly falling. He jumps back, obviously surprised to see me appearing suddenly in front of him. We stare at each other.
His Noise is quiet, disciplined, almost gentlemanly, which is why I didn't hear it from a distance. He's holding a basket under one arm and a red pear in his free hand.
He looks me up and down, sees the bag on my back, sees me alone out on the road in a break of the law, sees from the heaviness of my breath that I've obviously been ru
And it comes in his Noise, fast and clear as morning.
The Answer, he thinks.
"No," I say. "I'm not-"
But he holds a finger up to his lips.
He cocks his head in the direction of the road.
And I hear the distant sound of soldiers marching down it.