“You can wire?” Hunter says.
“Yes,” Ky says. “In exchange for something I saw in one of the caves.”
“A trade,” Hunter agrees.
What is Ky trading for? What does he want? Why won’t he look at me?
But no one argues anymore about splitting apart. We stay together.
For now.
While Ky and Hunter gather the wires, Indie and I hurry back to the caves to wake Eli and fill our packs with things we’ll need for the journey. We ready the cave for the explosion by sealing the lids on the boxes in the library and stacking them back against the wall so they’ll be protected. For some reason I’m drawn to the pages that have come loose from other books. I can’t resist; I put some of these papers into my pack along with food, water, matches. Hunter showed us where we could find headlamps and other gear for the journey and gave us extra packs; we fill them, too.
Eli tucks paintbrushes and papers in alongside his food. I don’t have the heart to tell him to throw them out and take more apples instead.
“I think we’re ready,” I say.
“Wait,” Indie says. We haven’t spoken much and I’ve been glad; I’m not sure what to say to her. I don’t understand her—why did she take the map to Ky first? What else has she been hiding? Does she even think we are friends?
“I have to give you something.” Indie reaches into her pack and takes out the delicate wasp nest. Even after everything, it’s still miraculously intact. She holds it carefully in her hands and an image comes to my mind of her lifting a shell from the edge of the ocean.
“No,” I say, touched. “You should keep it. You’re the one who brought it all this way.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Indie says, impatient. She reaches into the wasp nest and pulls something out.
A microcard.
It takes me a moment to understand.
“You stole this from me,” I whisper. “Back in the work camp.”
Indie nods. “It’s what I hid on the air ship. I pretended later that I hadn’t hidden anything, but I did. This.” She holds it out. “Take it.”
I do.
“And I took this from someone in the village.” She reaches into her pack again and pulls out a miniport. “Now you can view the microcard,” she says. “The only thing you’re missing now is one of the scraps. But that’s your own fault. You dropped it yourself when we were walking to the plain.”
Bewildered, I take the miniport, too. “You found one of the papers?” I ask. “Did you read it?”
Of course she did. She doesn’t even bother to answer the question. “That’s how I knew that Xander had a secret,” Indie says. “The scrap said he had one and that he’d tell you when he saw you again.”
“Where is it?” I ask Indie. “Give it back.”
“I can’t. It’s gone now. I gave it to Ky and he didn’t keep it.”
“Why?” I hold up the miniport, the microcard. “Why all of this?”
At first I think Indie won’t say anything. She turns her face away. But then she looks back and answers after all. Her expression is fierce; her muscles tense. “You didn’t belong,” she says. “I knew it the minute I saw you in the work camp. So I wanted to see who you were. What you were doing. At first I thought you might be a spy for the Society. Later I thought you might be working for the Rising. And you had all those blue tablets. I wasn’t sure what you planned with them.”
“So you stole from me,” I say. “Every step of the way, from the work camp into the Carving.”
“How else was I supposed to find out anything?” She gestures to the miniport. “And you have it all back now. Better, even. Now you can look at the microcard whenever you want.”
“I don’t have everything,” I say. “Remember? Part of Xander’s message is gone.”
“No it’s not,” Indie says. “I just told it to you.”
I want to scream in frustration. “What about the silver box?” I ask. “You took that, too.” It’s not rational but suddenly I want it back, that memento of Xander. I want back everything that I’ve ever lost, whether it’s been stolen or traded or taken. Ky’s compass. Bram’s watch. And, most of all, the compact from Grandfather with the poems snapped safely inside. If I had that back I’d never open it again. It would be enough to know that the poems were there.
I wish for the same thing with Ky, that I could tuck everything beautiful about our relationship inside and seal it up safe, shutting out all the mistakes we’ve both made.
“I left the box back at the work camp when I ran,” Indie says. “I dropped it in the forest.”
I remember how Indie always wanted to see the painting; how she threw it away when it disintegrated and I could tell that she cared; how she stood in the painted cave and stared at the girls in the dresses. Indie stole from me because she wanted what I had. I look at her and think that it’s like looking at a reflection in a rippled place in the river. The image is not quite exact—it’s distorted, churning—but so much the same. She’s a rebel with a streak of safety and I am the opposite.
“How did you hide the microcard?” I ask.
“They didn’t search me when they found me,” Indie says. “Only on the air ship. And you and I figured out a way around that.” She pushes her hair back from her face in a gesture that is perfectly Indie: abrupt but with an element of gracefulness about it somehow. I’ve never met anyone so direct and unashamed about trying to get what she wants. “Aren’t you going to look?” she asks.
I can’t help myself. I slide Xander’s microcard into the miniport and wait for his face to come up.
I should have seen this information back in my home in the Borough with maple leaves rustling outside. Bram could have teased me and my parents could have smiled. I could have looked at Xander’s face and seen nothing else.
But Ky’s face came up, and everything changed.
“There he is,” Indie says, almost involuntarily.