by Krista McGee
But John and Rhen are in New Hope, safe for now. They will live on, thrive, help that community. It was worth escape for that. For the extra time we had together, for the knowledge that the State was not the lone survivor of the War. There are other cities, here and in other parts of the earth, where people survived. I am glad I know that, saw that.
I feel more prepared to meet the Designer than I did in the annihilation chamber. I know him better. I have seen him more. I was ready then, but I am even more ready, even more confident in him now. He could choose to save me, like he did before. But even if he doesn’t, I believe heaven awaits. And John says there is no pain in heaven, no sadness. No separation. I want to go there.
Even the sky seems dark—unusually dark for this time of day. Like it is mourning with us. The breeze carries moisture on it. I close my eyes and allow its coolness to refresh me.
The guards around me stop. I cannot see past them. They are a wall in front of me, all much taller than I, standing shoulder to shoulder. Guards are posted behind me and beside me as well.
“Bring the prisoners to me,” the king says.
A guard beside me takes my elbow and presses me forward. The guards in front of us part, giving me a clear view of the king. And Alex. They both stand on a platform that appears newly constructed. It is made from a synthetic wood and stands only six feet off the ground. Beside that, a huge post rises from the ground. It is made of metal and real wood surrounds it. My arms burn with the thought of it. The metal pole will melt our skin long before the fire from the wood kills us. It will be an excruciating death.
And I have to watch Berk endure it before me.
Please, Father. I pray harder than I have ever prayed before. Do not make us suffer this. Please.
I am standing in front of the king. He looks at me. I return his stare. He knows the truth, even if the others refuse to listen or cannot believe it. He knows exactly what he has done. And I know it too. He may kill me, but he will kill me knowing I am aware of just how evil he is.
The king looks away first. His gaze sweeps the people. “Arrogant, even in the face of death. Further confirmation that execution is necessary.”
The crowd whispers their approval.
“And where did she get these ideas?” The king’s voice rises and falls like the waves in the ocean simulation I saw back in the State. “She got them from our enemies: the citizens of New Hope. There she and others devised how best to trick us, manipulate us, use us in an attempt to gain power over us. There she plotted our deaths. Had she been allowed to continue her plan, Alex would have been killed next. On their honeymoon, no less. And she would have returned and killed me. And then? They would make Athenians the slaves of New Hope. They would use our technology for themselves, however they saw fit. They would destroy us and our way of life. I am thankful they were caught before that happened. But I am heartbroken that my dear Helen was lost before these facts came to light.”
My heart is hammering in my chest. If the people would just think, they would see how ridiculous this is. If we planned to take over Athens, why would I have killed Helen so openly? Surely Alex sees through this. But when I look at him, I see he does not. He is blinded, either by the drugs or by love for his father or grief over his sister. Or a combination of all three.
“We see now the lengths to which these barbarians from New Hope will go to achieve their desires.” The king scans the crowd. “We see now the need to defend ourselves against them.”
Several people shout and echoes follow. The king remains silent and allows the crowd to encourage one another in their hatred for their “enemies.”
“We must stand together, then.” The king looks out at the crowd. “We must oppose them with all our might. We must protect ourselves against those who would seek our destruction.”
The crowd is no longer still. They are agitated, rocking back and forth, shaking their fists. The king accomplished his goal.
I pray for my friends in New Hope. I pray that Kristie and Carey warned them, perhaps took them from the village to another location. Rhen can help them find another settlement. They are far away, but we traveled hundreds of miles. They can too. I know they can. I pray they escape before the king’s army comes after them.
“Tie Berk to the stake.” The king doesn’t finish the order before the crowd erupts in cheers and applause. They are desperate to see this execution. They are delighted in it. It is sickening.
Berk allows himself to be led to the metal pole. He remains still when his hands are released from the restraints and then placed around the stake. He faces the metal. The guards bind his waist and his legs to the pole so every part of him is touching it. They are maximizing the pain that will be inflicted on him.
Berk looks at me, and we say everything we can in one look. But it is short lived because the guards turn Berk’s head away from me. They will give him no solace, no comfort, no mercy in this. They force him to look at the crowd. Those people throw whatever they find at their feet toward Berk—stones, pieces of wood, clumps of dirt. Berk cannot defend himself, and he is hit in his face, his legs, everywhere.
“For the crime of murder,” the king shouts and the crowd stills. “You are sentenced to death.”
Four guards walk forward, each with a blazing torch in his hands. At the king’s command, they lower their torches to the wood. The fire catches immediately, wrapping around Berk’s feet, climbing up the pole. Berk’s body tenses. I want to close my eyes, but I cannot. I want to save him, but I cannot.
I can do nothing but watch Berk die.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
An explosion rips through the darkening sky. It is so loud, my ears ring.
People from New Hope have come? Remnants from Gerald’s army? I am afraid and relieved at the same time. Berk is burning. Dying. I must not be rescued alone.
Another explosion and then . . . water? It feels like tubs full of water are pouring from the sky. So much water that I can barely see in front of me. People are peering around, from the king to Berk to the guards, unsure of what to do.
I think of the three men in the furnace. The Designer walked with them and saved them. He did the same for Berk. He sent the rain to stop the fire. I gulp in a lungful of air and breathe out my gratitude.
The rain does not last long. But when it subsides, everything and everyone is soaked. The pole where Berk is tied is slick. The wood is covered in a stream of rainwater. Even the king appears less powerful, less intimidating with his tunic stuck to him, revealing a more corpulent figure than is obvious from the layers of clothing he wears. A round belly protrudes and his hair lays in strings along the sides of his head.
But he does not appear defeated. He does not see this as an intervention from the Designer, like the king in John’s story did. He does not repent. He looks beyond the crowd toward the city with expectation.
“Your Majesty,” a guard shouts from behind us. “An audience has been requested.”
“Who would request an audience with the king on this day?” The king’s outrage was poorly performed, from my perspective. But the people do not see his hypocrisy. They agree with his words. They are outraged.
“Representatives from New Hope, sir.”
I turn and see Kristie, Carey, Rhen, John, and half a dozen other villagers.
“You dare come in today and demand an audience?” The king shouts loud enough for even those at the far edges of the crowd to hear. “Today, when my daughter is being laid to rest and her killers are being punished?”
“Her killers are not being punished,” Carey shouts, and the king has to bang his scepter on the platform to silence the crowd’s response.
“Are those two the prisoners I allowed to go free?” The king asks this of the guard beside him, but he does not lower his voice.
“They are, sir.” The guard responds with equal volume.
“I show you kindness.” The king’s face is red as he glares at the older couple. “I allow you to go free because I
pity you, because I want you to live out the short time you have left with your people, and this is your repayment?”
“We desire peace,” Kristie says. “We do not wish to fight.”
“You sent in these spies to murder us!” the king roars. “We will not believe anything you say. You do not want peace.”
“These young people were used as pawns by your king,” Carey yells. “They no more killed Helen than I did.”
The people begin to shout, scream, demand retribution, death to these villagers. The king is triumphant. His eyes glow; his head is high.
“I warned you of these people.” He looks at the crowd. “They will stop at nothing to achieve their goals.”
The people raise their fists in agreement.
“Therefore, they must be stopped,” the king shouts above the crowd. “They must all be stopped.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
We have been allowed to return to New Hope.
Our restraints have been undone. Guards have walked away from us. The king told the crowd he will not “reward” us with a public death, but he will send us off with the others from New Hope, “to perish corporately.” Our crime, he argues, is a result of the planning of the entire village. As such, the whole village must be punished.
We do not speak as we leave. What is there to say? I have seen the arsenal in Athens. Their technology far exceeds that of New Hope. We can try to escape. But the nearest village is so far away. We would need more transports, more food, more time. We lack all of that.
I want to try to speak with Alex, to pull him away from his father’s influence, make him understand the truth, to defend us. Alex is good. I have seen it. Berk believes Alex deceived me, that he was part of his father’s plan all along. But I refuse to believe that. Berk does not know Alex the way I do. He protected me from his father’s wrath. He cares for me. I am sure of it.
“We need Alex.” I break the silence, and the entire group looks at me as if I spoke in another language. “The king will not attack us if we have his heir. And once he is no longer under the influence of the Athenian drugs, I know Alex will help us. That was his plan before. We were going to escape to New Hope and help the village protect itself against Athenian attack.”
“Thalli.” Berk’s voice has an edge to it I have never heard before. “You are so sure that Alex was drugged. But isn’t it just as likely that you were, and that all the good you think about Alex is a result of that influence?”
I think back on my time in Athens, to my time with Alex. He was kind. I believe that was real. “I heard him defending me to the king, and he did not realize I was listening. He was telling his father not to drug me.”
Berk steps closer to me. “What happened between you and Alex?”
I stand straight. I do not like his tone, his possessiveness. “I spent time with him—just like you spent time with Rhen.”
“That is not the same.” Berk’s jaw twitches.
“I trust Alex.” I look away from Berk but see distrust in Carey’s and Kristie’s eyes too. “He tried to protect me from his father’s plans. He stood up for me against him.”
“You don’t think they had surveillance on you?” Berk says. “My guess is they saw you coming to listen at that door and planned the conversation accordingly.”
“King Jason is ruthless.” Carey shakes his head. “He released Kristie and me, knowing we would return for you. He wanted us to come so he could incite the people against us. I have to agree with Berk. Neither he nor his family is to be trusted.”
“What about Helen?” I ask. “She did nothing wrong. She loved Peter—truly loved him—and she helped me. And was killed for the king’s purposes.”
The events of the last few days have been so draining, I have not truly had time to acknowledge that Helen is dead. My chest feels heavy with the weight of that knowledge. I think of beautiful Helen, hurt by her father, grieving for so much, wanting nothing more than to be free and to love a man of her own choosing. She would want her brother to know the freedom she will never have. She would want me to defend him.
“I know this has been difficult for you.” Berk’s voice softens. “You should never have gone.”
“I had to go.” I stop walking, forcing the others to do the same. “And I did it to help New Hope. You needed to know more about Athens and who they are so our village could be better prepared to defend ourselves against them. I did that. I know more about this city than any of you. And our best chance of protecting New Hope is by bringing Alex there.”
Kristie and Carey look at each other, then at me. The others in the group glance back at the walls that surround Athens.
“There is a risk in taking him, I realize.” I gaze at each person as I speak, willing them to consider what I am saying. “But no greater risk than returning to wait for the Athenian army to attack us.”
“No greater risk?” Carey says. “Have you forgotten the prison? Helen? There is huge risk in returning to Athens. You can be sure they are watching us now, making sure we return. I wouldn’t be surprised if they aren’t tracking our movements. We have no idea all they are capable of.”
I consider this. Of course they are watching. Carey is right. But there must be something we can do.
I recall the conversation I had with Helen. “The secret exit. Helen’s mother said there is a secret exit at one of the walls.”
“Then why didn’t she use it?” Berk asks.
“She wasn’t sure where it was. And she knew guards were everywhere.”
“So the queen and the princess were afraid to use it?”
I do not like the way Berk is speaking to me, as if he thinks I am ignorant. “They had an unhealthy fear of the king.”
“Unhealthy?” Berk is yelling now. “Thalli, the man is a murderer. Their murderer. Theirs was not an unhealthy fear. It was very healthy.”
I will not argue with Berk. He is convinced that he is right. They all are. But I know I need to find that exit. I know I need to get Alex. But I will never be able to convince them.
I walk along in silence. I will go back to New Hope with them. Then while they sleep, I will return to Athens.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
I did not escape. I returned and was surrounded by the people of New Hope. They wanted to know everything. They wanted to debate how to plan for an attack. Somewhere in the middle of the debate, I fell asleep. I did not mean to, but I was more tired than I realized.
I woke up to feel Berk’s arms underneath me, carrying me to my quarters. I recalled that I was angry with him, but I was too exhausted to pull myself away. I dreamed I returned to Athens, that I had found the entrance in the wall, that no guards were there. I woke before I found Alex.
John told me the Designer sometimes speaks to his people through dreams. Was this dream from him? I recall exactly where this spot was. I know just how to get there. I even know how to get in. But it could be just a dream. I could escape only to find myself trapped outside the walls for days. Or worse—I could be caught outside the walls and killed.
I sit up, my head swimming. I ate last night, but I am still so hungry.
“Thalli?” A knock sounds on the door. It is John.
“Come in.” I rub my eyes and smooth down my hair.
“I am glad to have you back.” John smiles. Despite all the turmoil of the past few weeks, he looks so peaceful. So happy. “You were strong and courageous.”
“The Lord prepared a table for me in the presence of my enemies.”
John lets out a loud exhale. “Praise be to the Designer.”
“Were you here last night?” There were so many people crowded into Carey and Kristie’s house, I could not see them all. “Did you hear the debate?”
“I was, and I did.”
“What do you think?”
“I thought you were unusually quiet.”
“I need to go back and get Alex.” I wait to see how John will respond to this. He does not even appear to be surprised. “Did th
ey tell you?”
“Berk told me his thoughts about this. But I want to hear yours.”
I tell John everything I know about Athens and about Alex. I tell him my plan to find the entrance. I tell him about my dream.
“And if you find this entrance, how will you find Alex without being caught? And if he is under the king’s influence, how will you convince him to escape?”
I have thought of all this. But I have no answer. “The alternative is to wait here for an attack that will surely kill us all.”
John is silent, his eyes closed, as if he’s truly considering my idea. Minutes pass. When he opens his eyes, they are clear, bright. He leans toward me. “What if, instead of sneaking in, you walk in?”
“What?”
“I have been praying all night,” John says. “I agree that you must go back. Waiting is not beneficial. But no more deception. I think you should walk right up to the gate and request an audience with the prince.”
“The guards will kill me before I even speak a word.”
“That’s possible.” John nods. “But they might do the same were they to catch you trying to sneak in. Or trying to speak to the prince. Or trying to sneak him out. Right?”
Of course he is right. “So you think I should just walk over there and knock on the gate?”
“I think you should take a horse and ride up to the gate.”
He says it as if it’s not a life-threatening proposition. “I cannot ride a horse.”
“Sure you can.” John smiles. “It’s easy.”
I think of all the times I questioned John’s sanity while we were still in the State. And I think of all he has taught me and my confidence in the fact that he is most certainly sane. And wise.
“What will I tell the others?” I think of Berk. He will never agree to this plan.
“Let me handle the others.”