The Defiance (Brilliant Darkness) by A.G. Henley Read Free Book Online Page B

enough.
    "Fennel." A man calls to me from the trees. His voice is quiet, but I still recognize it.
     "Petrel! Eland's out here somewhere. I can't find him. I . . . can't hear him. Kadee and I were so busy with the water—" My words dip and weave. I'm dangerously close to losing it.
    "It's okay, Fennel. He's with us."
    I shy away from a few of the sick ones groaning for me and automatically lower my voice to match Petrel's, although I could sing with relief. "How did he get up there?"
    "I found him hanging on a tree. Said he climbed up when the fleshies came. Sounds like he had to hold on for a long time, but he's fine."
    I'm torn between crying and laughing, so I settle for inane chatter. “He is a pretty good climber, although he hasn't had much chance to practice." The Lofties don't allow us to climb their trees. "And I guess he was desperate to get away from the sick ones." But what I'm thinking is: Eland's alive.
    "I came looking for you—figured you'd be worried about him. I can bring you up, but we have to be quick and quiet. Step toward the tree to your left. Here comes a rope."
    I do as he says, searching the air over my head with my hands. I tie the rope quickly under my arms when I find it. Petrel pulls me up. Despite his warning, the ascent seems agonizingly slow. As soon as my feet touch the walkway, he hurries me forward without speaking.
    Muffled voices carry from other parts of the treetops as we move. Smoke poisons the air. The tree-sickness strikes hard and fast; my stomach flip-flops like I'm somersaulting underwater. I grit my teeth and follow Petrel.
    We make a few turns and stop briefly. There's a scraping sound—a door. We walk through, and he shuts it quickly behind us. I rejoice at the familiar scent—the reek of adolescent boy. Eland.
    We cling to each other.
    "You found her," Moon says. "Good."
    "What happened?" I ask Eland. My voice shakes like the hand of an elder.
    "I got cut off from Acacia and the others. We were by the water hole and heard the fleshies—I mean the sick ones." He's working on calling the Scourge something different, like Peree and I do. "We started running toward the caves, but a few of them were getting close to the little kids, so I sort of distracted them and took off in another direction. I had to climb a tree to get away, but I only got far enough up so I couldn't be dragged down."
    I hug him to me, thinking about what might have happened if he had been forced to let go.
    Petrel thumps Eland on the back. I feel it right through my brother's thin chest. "Little man's a hero. Although now that I think about it, he didn't look so heroic hanging onto that tree trunk like an overgrown spider."
    I laugh. Thinking of him clinging to a tree, while frightening, is far better than the other, much more horrible scenarios that have haunted me since I heard he didn't make it to the caves.
    "Would you like to sit down, Fenn?" Moon asks. She seats Eland and me on the same bench Peree and I shared before. I wish he was here now. "Are you hungry? Eland's already eaten."
    She brings me a wooden board, perfectly smooth to the touch, and a small oilskin sack of water. I drink, eat some tart berries I don't think I've tasted before—maybe they only grow in the trees—and take a few bites of bread.
    "I'm sorry there's not more," Moon says. "We have to ration ourselves when the fleshies are here, in case they make themselves at home. Petrel, you better go back. They'll be needing you as soon as it's safe to work on the walkway." Moon's voice accelerates as she speaks, like a bird beating its wings faster and faster.
    I hear Petrel kiss her. "You okay?"
    "We're fine. Go on, now. It'll look suspicious if you aren't out there helping."
    Petrel leaves, closing the door firmly behind him. Abruptly, I realize the danger we may be putting Peree's family in by being up here.
    "I'm sorry," I say to Moon. "I know this isn't exactly a great time to be harboring a couple of Groundlings. We don't want