Page 44 of The Infinite Glade (The Maze Cutter #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

T hey walked down one of the long corridor tunnels adjoined to the others, lugging the supplies for the Sequencers in silence until finally Frypan broke it.

“I’m telling you, those Grievers have a mind of their own, just like in the Glade .

. .” Isaac watched as Frypan’s eyes looked like they went to another place, far away. “They killed so many . . .”

They kept following Cian down the dimly lit cave that smelled like ocean spray against wet rocks. He spoke to them over his shoulder.

“The first Grievers weren’t calibrated—they truly did have minds of their own. The early Sequencers dealt with many deaths from them, too.”

“No one hates them more than me.” Erros turned to Isaac, who doubted anyone could hate Grievers more than Old Man Frypan. Glader of Old.

“This is bonkers,” Miyoko said, shaking her head. “No one will believe us.”

But Cian’s optimism had not waned in the least. “Yeah. Imagine how hard it’s been for us to convince the Sequencers.

There’s so much disbelief that accompanies the truth.

Having you here to tell the Senate about the outside world will do more than any Cure ever could.

We can’t thank you enough.” He held the box in front of him as if it were a prayer.

“And if they don’t believe a single thing we say?” Jackie asked.

“What if they take us someplace we can’t . . .” Isaac whispered to Ximena.

“Get out?” she finished.

He nodded. He’d already lost track of how many turns they’d made and Frypan didn’t have his stick to drag in the dirt. Not to mention he seemed lost in his own world, right now.

“We won’t stay long, trust me.” Erros took the heavy box of supplies from Isaac’s grasp. “Just remember, don’t say anything negative about the outside world.”

“No wars, no Cranks, no death,” Jackie said, the sarcasm thick. “Nothing bad ever happens. Got it.”

“They’re not going to take Frypan for tests or anything, are they?” Ximena asked.

Cian and Erros exchanged a look. Erros let out a slight, crooked smile. “Tests?” He shook his head. “No . . . but his patience might be tested. He’s the first Subject A to ever come home.”

Home wasn’t a word Isaac expected Cian to use. “What do you mean?”

“Subject A3.” Cian pointed at his own neck. “You know, Frypan’s tattoo. Group A. He was a part of the very first Sequence. . . . This guy’s as good as royalty here.” He walked them farther into the tunnel, and now there was much more light, its source not clear.

Old Man Frypan shuffled his feet forward—in the absence of his walking stick, he’d put his arm around Jackie. Isaac didn’t expect to see such bright light in a cave far underground, but they were soon walking under a filtered sunlight that held all the colors of the rainbow.

The City of the Sequencers was very close, now.

La belleza perece en la vida, pero es inmortal en el arte.

Beauty perishes in life, but is immortal in art.

Ximena couldn’t keep her eyes fully open. Between the beauty before her and the relaxant injected by the Griever, it all felt like a dream. Like she might be back home, under one of Abuela’s blankets.

“It’s so bright . . .” Jackie covered her eyes.

When Cian and Erros had first mentioned the Sequencers living under-earth, Ximena had imagined people living in a cave system would have to be blind, like burrow animals in her Village.

Those born in darkness had no need to see .

. . but it was clear to her in that moment that the Sequencers were so much more.

She squinted her eyes after walking so long through the cold and dark tunnels.

All of them used their hands to shadow their faces as they gawked at the city of Sequencers.

“What are these materials?” Jackie asked. Unique arches and ornate molding with statues of lions and countless other things adorned the corners.

“Earth minerals,” Cian answered without elaborating.

“Minerals?” Isaac looked at Frypan as Cian led the group through gold-lined walls, then out to a terrace that overlooked a city filled with more vegetation than stone, from which most of the beautiful buildings had been carved.

A false sun shone down from the roof of the cavern—far, far above them.

People milled about here and there in the vast city of low structures and parks.

“Wow . . .” Ximena couldn’t find any other words. “This is . . .” She turned to Isaac and Frypan, but they just stood there, frozen in wonder.

“It’s unbelievable,” Isaac finally replied.

Ximena leaned over the decorative molding along the arched terrace and slowly felt more like herself. “This is . . . at least a century old?” she asked.

Cian beamed with pride, again acting like he’d actually had something to do with all this. “It’s something special, isn’t it?”

But it was more than special. It felt unreal.

Ximena couldn’t help but think as she watched Frypan process the buildings and plants below them that everything he saw was a life he could have lived. If only his parents, WICKED—or whoever—hadn’t decided to trade his childhood and future to the Trials, to the effects of the Flare.

“No wonder they don’t want to leave,” Jackie mumbled. “It’s so beautiful.”

“I just got here and I don’t even want to leave,” Miyoko said.

Cian led the group farther on to a terrace balcony overlooking the city. “The Senator allowed us on this floor only, to observe. We’re not supposed to interact with anyone but the Senate, and the Senators will have questions in the Hall of Congress. Just remember?—”

“We know, we know, nothing negative,” Jackie said. “How many times do you have to remind us?”

“It’s not just about scaring them,” Cian said as he turned to Jackie. “Each Senator has their own agenda that they’ll try to push, and they’ll turn anything negative to their benefit. Try to focus on sharing the good truth.”

The truth will remain buried.

Don’t let the truth stay buried.

After seeing the beauty of this place, she no longer saw Cian and Erros as complete whackos. A part of her even wanted to follow Cian’s rules. But she couldn’t stop the overwhelming resistance she felt within her to speak up.

“You say you don’t want us to tell them anything negative—but the truth is .

. . a lot of bad things have happened and are still happening.

” She looked at the others before looking back at Cian.

“How can you say you want the truth to come out but keep trying to hide the real truth from the Sequencers? Those are polar opposites!”

“Yeah,” Jackie agreed. “Make it make sense.”

“She’s got you there, brother.” Erros shrugged.

Cian’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t want you to lie .

. . I just think if they saw the truth themselves, then they’d see it’s not as scary as it might sound.

” He stepped back from the terrace. “Just like this place . . . if I would have told you anything more you would have either not believed me or been scared in some way, right?”

“Maybe.” Jackie looked around. “But maybe not. Let them decide.”

Ximena nodded in agreement with her.

“These two are right,” Old Man Frypan said, finally snapping out of his self-reflection of a hard life, long-lived. “We ought to tell the truth and let them decide. Otherwise, they’ll feel like they were lied to.”

Cian rubbed his forehead. “I’ll think about it.”

“Hey, what was that all about back there?” Isaac motioned to Erros, “When he said welcome home ? You didn’t tell us you were a part of this whole group.”

“Because this hasn’t been our home for years.” Erros glanced below, at teenagers tossing some kind of ball around. “Once we left, we couldn’t find our way back.” He had a longing look in his eyes. “It’s been almost twenty years. So much has changed.”

“And some things have stayed the same.” Cian pointed to some younger children playing hopscotch with numbers 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55.

“I bet I can still beat you in Sequence Scotch,” he teased his brother before walking farther down the long terrace.

The others followed. “When news first came of the above, only a handful of us were brave enough?—”

“Or stupid enough,” Erros interjected.

“—to leave,” Cian finished. “And the Senate forbade anyone who left from coming back. They thought we’d bring the diseases back that they’d worked so hard to keep out for the last hundred years.”

“But you brought them a Cure . . .” Ximena could see the sadness in Cian’s face.

“So you need the Cure, too?” Miyoko asked.

Cian shook his head and leaned against the molding.

“I don’t think anyone really needs the Cure, but it will help some people’s confidence on reentry into the above.

They need to know that there’s people in the other-world that care about them, people who deserve the truth about everything that happened in history.

” He straightened and continued walking to a large golden door at the end of the terrace.

“Erros and I spent our first few years in the above sick as hell. It wasn’t great, but we eventually adjusted.

The Cure will help for a smoother transition, hopefully.

” He looked at Erros. “Well, his lungs are still shit when he gets stressed.”

He led them all to the large, ornate, golden door. Jackie reached out her fingers and touched it; Ximena couldn’t help but smack the islander’s hand away.

“What? I wanted to feel it,” Jackie said.

“They’re worried we have germs and you’re touching things,” Ximena whispered.

“It’s alright, you can touch it.” Cian pulled on a round door knocker. Ximena wanted to feel it, too, but hesitated. “Really, it’s okay. It’s made of Ionic Gold, has antimicrobial properties. Go ahead, touch it.”