Renegade (21 page)

T
he sun was low in the sky—a couple strikes before sundown, I guessed—when a bell was rung some distance away. By then Griffin, Nyla, and I had cured the most advanced cases of Plague. The rest could wait until later. I wouldn't let Griffin continue until he had rested.

We trudged out of the shelter. Clan folk filed along the street, drawn by the bell's pure, sweet sound. Like us, their footsteps were labored, heads bowed, faces solemn.

I didn't need to ask why we were being summoned. The dead needed to be released within a day of passing. But how many dead would there be? And how many of them were killed in the inferno that
I
had created?

A lone figure walked against the tide of clan folk—a child, not much bigger than Dennis. I signaled to the others to go on without me, and followed the child. I was sure that it was Kieran.

He stopped before the remains of the Sumter ship, which straddled the street like a beached whale. Some of it would be salvaged, I figured—the large pieces of wooden hull, and the metal winches—but we'd never be able to rebuild such an enormous craft.

I joined him. “Hard to believe this ship used to be bigger than a building.”

Kieran didn't look at me. “Nothing's as big once it dies. Nothing that matters, anyway,” he added, looking around him at the bloated rats.

He picked his way around the ship's timbers and continued walking toward the edge of Skeleton Town. I fell in step with him. I was worried, and I didn't want him to be alone. I'd seen last night's events from the same vantage point as him, so I knew the images that must be playing through his mind.

We were past the buildings when he said sharply, “You told me you'd rescue them.”

I nodded, though he still wasn't watching. “I know. I . . . I'm sorry. How is your father now?”

“He's not my father,” said Kieran quietly. “And she wasn't really my mother. They were my protectors. My parents were elementals, like me. We lived on a tiny island in Chesapeake Bay. It's not far from Roanoke Island, so I got to see their elements working. And when a few rats came ashore during a storm, I found out what I can do too.”

“Why did you leave?”

“We were there six years. But after every storm, the island got smaller. The water level rose too. It got so we could walk around the island and see each other the whole time. There wasn't enough room to grow food. Mother got scared—said we wouldn't make it through the winter. So they built a raft and we headed south for Roanoke.”

We were heading for the mainland bridge now. Hard to believe that Roanoke Island had been his parents' destination. I didn't need to ask if they had made it. We'd have seen them, if they had.

“A storm came through and pushed us off course,” he continued. “We grounded on the mainland. Rats found us. I controlled them—kept them away. But it was tiring. And then we ran aground again. The rats had followed us along the shore—thousands of them. I think . . .” He hesitated. “I think it was because I was controlling them. Father tried to keep us away from the shore, but he couldn't do it. The wind and waves kept pushing us back. And every time we touched land, the rats attacked, until I couldn't stop them anymore.” He took a deep breath. “Once the storm was over, my parents started paddling again. Kept going, even when they got Plague. They wanted to reach Roanoke Island. But we didn't even get out of Chesapeake Bay.”

“What happened then?”

“I gave up. I knew I was going to die too. I drifted ashore again, and I didn't even paddle away. I let the rats come to me. And then I held them there for almost a whole day . . . just a few feet away from me. They couldn't move. Couldn't eat. Couldn't drink. They just stayed where they were, even when I fell asleep. I wanted to punish them. I wanted them to die.

“When I woke up, there was a clan ship nearby. A woman who was out fishing in a canoe saw me. She dragged me away from the shore. She didn't know I was controlling the rats, but she risked her life for me anyway. She took me back to the clan ship. The others wouldn't let me on, in case I had Plague. So she stayed with me on the raft. For three days her husband passed us food and water. Then they let me on.”

“Did they know you could control the rats?”

“No. I practiced when we got near shore, but only in secret.”

We were on the bridge now, but Kieran wasn't showing any signs of slowing down.

“What happened when you got to Roanoke?” I asked.

“Jossi told us to leave. We should've just gone, but the Elders wanted to trade. Roanoke was a new place, and they wanted to explore. We never would've taken anything, but Jossi went crazy. He attacked us. Threatened to kill the Elders. That's when I made the rats attack the pirates. Everything went wrong after that. And now the woman who saved my life is dead.”

“This isn't your fault, Kieran.”

“So what? Nothing will stop the hurt.”

My mind returned to the scene during the night. It hadn't occurred to me before, but now I understood why Kieran's protectors hadn't used their elements in self-defense—because they weren't elementals.

We continued in silence. It was a long walk to the gap in the bridge, and I was sure that's where Kieran was headed. Sure enough, he didn't slow down until we were toeing the edge. Instinctively I put a hand in front of him.

“I'm not going to jump,” he said.

“Good. It's a long way down. Kind of painful. I tried it once—wouldn't recommend it.”

The plank was still down, connecting the two parts of the bridge. I'd make sure that it was gone before we left.

Kieran stared at the far shore, where the sun hovered just above the horizon. “Will you combine with me? Like you did last night.”

“I think your element is powerful enough without my help.”

“What element? If the rats are gone, I have nothing.”

I hadn't thought about that. “I still need to know what your element actually
is
. How it
feels
.”

“Why? You combined with me fine last night.”

“Because I could
see
what you were trying to do. I just willed the same thing to happen—for those rats to come closer and closer.” I could tell that he still didn't understand. “Look, when I combine with Ananias, I imagine the flame. With Dennis, it's a gust of wind. Even Griffin—I think of energy pouring through him, as if I can force the cure to shift from person to person. I guess I need to know what it is that you want.”

Kieran was undeterred. He pointed to the mainland. “There are rats out there—have to be. And I . . . I want to send them a message.”

“What kind of message?”

“To stay away. If I have to, I'll tell them every day for the rest of my life.”

He'd answered my question. Now it was my turn to follow through.

I closed my eyes and visualized rats on the mainland. Taking Kieran's hand in mine, I implored them to listen to him. It felt slightly ridiculous and strangely
empty,
but I kept the connection, and our elements combined.

Several moments passed before we loosed hands. It wasn't like usual, either. He didn't pull away as if the work had been completed, but remained still, staring at the horizon with a puzzled expression.

“What is it, Kieran?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. There's nothing out there.”

“You mean . . .
all
the rats are gone?”

“No. There'll be more. But there aren't any around here—not for miles. Which means we can go over there, right? We can grow food. And hunt.”

Sixteen years of warnings told me no, that it was impossible. But I believed him. I'd seen what Kieran could do, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was right now.

“Will the clan folk believe it?” I asked.

“I don't know. I guess not right away. I'm not like them, you know? I'm an elemental, like you.” He sighed. “Doesn't matter, anyway. Right now, this is the first time some of them have been able to live on land. Who can't see the miracle in that?”

K
ieran and I were the last to arrive at dinner. Clan folk and elementals clustered in separate groups on a patch of rubble to the east of Skeleton Town. Fish, too numerous to count, crisped in the embers of a makeshift fire. Rose and Marin had probably used their elements to summon the fish to the shore. Ananias used his element to control the fire, emphasizing heat over flame. We'd eat well tonight.

The young woman who Griffin had cured earlier was handing out plates. Someone must have made a trip out to the clan ship, and brought supplies ashore. If so, it meant that the clan folk were definitely planning to stay. Given the way they stared at Kieran and me as we made our late arrival, that wasn't a particularly reassuring thought.

Kieran's father received his portion and surveyed the separate groups before him. Breaking the trend, he took a place beside Griffin. The woman who'd handed me a plate joined him there. Then Dennis stood and, with an approving smile from his mother, made his way over to the clan folk.

Perhaps it was all for show—a mask to hide how we really felt—but people were making an effort. That had to count for something.

Working quickly, Rose filled each plate from a large metal pan. When she reached me she didn't make eye contact and she didn't speak, but she gave me a little more than she should have.

I sat beside Alice because she was alone. Now that Roanoke Island was secure, she stared across the sound to Hatteras Island, as if she were looking for new adventures, or remembering old ones.

“I told Griffin about the third journal,” she said. “Everything I could think of, anyway.”

I looked around me to make sure that no one was listening. “Did the journal mention anything about Griffin's drawings?”

“No.”

“So no one else has been able to do that? To take one person's life and save another.”

“Would you admit it if you could?” She took a piece of fish from my plate. “He told me it's something he's always known about, though. Just couldn't explain
how
.”

“And what about you? How long did you know about Dare being your father?”

She chewed the fish. “Not as long as I should've. I've been different since I was born. The amazing thing is that I was too blind to see it until I read the last journal.”

I put the plate between us so that she could help herself. She'd probably noticed I had more than my share as soon as I sat down. “You couldn't have known—”

“Why not? When we were sailing to Sumter, my so-called father's dying words were that I should have died instead of my sister. The same sister who was traumatized after one conversation with Dare. How obvious did I need it to be?”

“I'm sorry.”

“For what? For Dare being my father? Or for losing him before I ever knew him?” Even though I heard it in her voice, I was surprised to see tears welling in her eyes. “The only thing I'm sorry about is that I lost my sister. Eleanor shouldn't have died.”

“She chose that, though.” I wanted to ease Alice's guilt, but maybe extending the conversation was its own form of pain.

Alice shook her head. “I was there when she died, remember? Ananias and I were at the top of the ship's mast with her. He honestly thinks she jumped, but she didn't. She let go.”

“There's a difference?”

“Yes. I don't think she was choosing death. I believe she just needed a sign. Everyone and everything she'd ever trusted had turned out to be a lie, and she was tired of fighting for a cause she didn't believe in.”

“But it was no different for the rest of us,” I reminded her. “We kept fighting, so why didn't she?”

“Because we had a cause, Thom. That's the difference. I was fighting for answers. You were fighting for Griffin. And . . . and Rose was fighting for you.” She swiped at her tears as if she were annoyed at herself, but she didn't need to worry—it was dark now. No one but me could see her. “I admit it: I always thought Rose was the weak link. I thought that if Eleanor couldn't handle the truth, what chance did Rose and Dennis have? But I was wrong. Now I think Eleanor was just waiting to be set free.”

So here it was: grudging acceptance of Rose. But the way I looked at it, Rose wasn't free at all. We couldn't touch anymore. She'd lost her father, and even though they'd reconciled now, her mother had let her down. What was the point of freedom when it left you with so little?

“You don't believe me,” she said. “I can see it in your eyes. But you didn't see what Rose did last night. How she and your mother took control of the situation when you passed out. How she told everyone they needed to organize, and work together. She demanded patience, and the clan folk gave it. They respect her, Thom. Do you really believe she'd turn back time, even if she could?”

No, I didn't believe that at all. And maybe that was part of the problem. Rose really was better off now. Even if that meant being apart from me.

“So what do the clan folk make of me?” I tried to hide the edge in my voice. “Do they respect me too?”

“They'll do what you say, yes.”

“That's not what I was asking.”

Alice was never one for lying. “They fear you, Thom. They've seen everyone else's elements at work, but you're a mystery. All they know for sure is that you're the link between our elements and an inferno powerful enough to destroy a town. I figure they're scared of what'll come next.” She narrowed her eyes. “But that's up to you. You can do anything. You don't have to be the sum of their fears.”

If Alice had been born with my element, I would have believed that. She'd have known how to use it. She probably would've gotten control of it early, and by now she'd be capable of anything. Me, I was capable of anything too; but just like my father, I couldn't be sure what the consequences would be—or if I could live with them.

Alice waited for a reply—something to convince her that I was ready to demand respect. Ready to assume control. But all I could think was how much had happened over the past few weeks to bring us right back to where we started. And as I looked around me I had the overwhelming feeling that while everything had changed, some things hadn't changed at all.

• • •

Skeleton Town fell silent almost as soon as dinner was over. People were tired and, apart from Ananias's fire, the island was dark.

The clan folk slept in the open, mostly huddled together. A few adults sat on the perimeter—I could see the whites of their eyes. I figured that if they were keeping guard, it was probably me they feared, so I left the area. I wasn't ready to sleep, but I didn't want to stop them from getting some rest.

I wound toward the main street. The buildings near the intersection were unrecognizable now, but I found the clinic anyway.

Someone was already there. “Are you all right, Thomas?” my mother asked.

I could have answered that in a hundred different ways. “No,” I said.

“Hmm. Me neither.” She peered into what remained of the building, but there wouldn't have been much to see even if it were light. “I've lived among pirates for thirteen years. They were the closest thing I had to a family. Now Dare and his men are dead. Tessa and Ordyn too.”

“Why didn't you tell Dare to bring you back sooner? You knew you weren't the solution.”

“Yes. But
Dare
didn't realize that.” She sighed. “I held out all this time because I knew that his visions would become clearer as we closed in on Roanoke. Once he knew the truth about the solution, nothing would stop him from coming for Griffin. Then everyone would suffer. Everyone
has
suffered.”

“So why come back at all?”

“Because I wanted to see you again—you and your brothers. I've never stopped thinking about you, even for a moment. I thought that I could reason with Dare once we got here, but he wouldn't listen.” From the way her voice shook, I could tell she was crying. “I know you blame yourself for a lot of what has happened here, but if anyone's to blame, it's me. All I had to do was stay silent. Coming here was selfish.”

I was fighting tears too. “I'm glad you came. Griffin deserves to know you.”

“And what about you? How do you . . .” She turned away. “I'm sorry. You need time to get used to this. For all you can remember, I may never have existed at all.”

I flicked debris with my foot. “I saw a picture of us together outside this clinic. I found it among Tessa's things in Bodie Lighthouse.”

Even in the darkness, I could see her face brighten. “This one, you mean?” She slid something from her pants pocket and handed it to me.

It was a piece of paper, crumpled and slick. I studied it in the moonlight. It was identical to Tessa's picture. “Where did you find it?”

“I've always had it. It's called a photograph. The Guardians didn't approve of old technology like this, but I'd foreseen the future—a time when we'd move to Hatteras Island and leave everything we'd ever known behind. I didn't want to go to that new world without a relic of the old. And neither did Tessa.”

She moved behind me and raised her fingers in front of her face so that they formed a rectangle. “Stay right there,” she said.

I turned to face her. “What are you doing?”

“I'm updating the picture.”

“The clinic isn't looking so good anymore.”

“True,” she said. “But I'm not looking at the clinic. I only care about the boy.” She smiled. “And he's more perfect than I could've imagined.”