Page 45 of The Infinite Glade (The Maze Cutter #3)

Jackie touched the door again, along with Miyoko and Isaac.

The islanders didn’t waste a second smudging the door up with fingerprints, but Ximena joined in more slowly, felt the smoothness of the mineral.

It was colder than she expected. The door opened with a rush of air.

Ximena jumped back and Jackie let out a noise of surprise.

The man in the blue suit greeted them.

“Cian. Erros.” Senator Tove held the door open and nodded at each of them.

“I’ve gathered the other heads of Levels and the Senate.

We’d like to take your testimonies. Please, come in and have a seat.

” He held his arm out to the room behind him—bigger than any room at any Villa.

Benches, carved from beautiful black stone, lined the room in a semi-circle, with a table of heavy white stone facing them.

The shelves along the walls held more books than Ximena knew existed in the world.

There were a dozen or so people seated here and there along the benches.

“Wow . . . hi.” Isaac walked into the room looking up and down, all around, taking it all in.

“This place is amazing,” Miyoko said, pulling Jackie along to show her some of the intricacies.

Ximena couldn’t even pretend she wasn’t blown away. She tried to remember every little detail of what she saw, to tell Abuela about it when she returned.

Tove addressed them. “I’ve shared the diagnostics with the full Senate, and I’ve also let them know we have a Glader in our presence.

” The Senator bowed toward Old Man Frypan.

The others in the room did a strange hand movement—one palm twisting on top of the other—and bowed as well.

“We’re honored to host you in this chamber of congress. ”

“Thank you,” Frypan said, his eyes a little teary.

Cian motioned for everyone to sit down on a long bench, more decorative than comfortable. “Here. Before we start. Erros?” His brother set the Cure vial on the center of the table. “And yes, it’s exactly what you think it is.”

The Senate grew quiet.

Cian continued. “Advanced immunity for the world above. Our visitors have agreed to share testimonies with the Senate for as long as you’d like, but we have just one request in return for these gracious gifts.”

The Senators shuffled and mumbled at each other. Senator Tove asked on behalf of them, “And what is that request?”

“Whatever it is, we’d have to vote on it,” one woman grumbled.

Erros looked at his brother before speaking. Cian nodded. “We request two or more families to rejoin us on the surface, to experience the other-world and learn the truths firsthand. They can collect information for the Sequencers’ next generation.”

A bald Senator crossed his hands in front of his chest. “No. We can’t banish anyone just to collect documents.”

“How else will the truth of history be recorded?” Erros slapped his palms against the table.

“The real truth!” He pulled his hands back at the collective gasp of the Senate.

“You call it banishment, but some of those kids out there in the middle levels”—he pointed at the golden door that was now closed for privacy—“They might call it freedom!”

“No,” the bald one said. “We don’t even need to vote—the answer is no.”

A Senator, with her long brown hair in a braid, spoke up. “A resounding NO to sending our children out there.”

“Denied,” another said.

“Then you go!” Cian shouted at the group of leaders.

His face turned just a few shades less red than his scarf.

“You all need to experience the surface before your next vote. Otherwise, you have no right to deny others the life that you know nothing about! See for yourselves and let them choose!” He couldn’t stop his rant.

“You can’t choose the future out of fear!

That’s what destroyed the . . . the . . .

” The man got emotional. “Fear and lies destroyed everything.”

“We’ll discuss.” Senator Tove held up his hand.

“I think if we asked the people,” Erros said as he stepped up to the table again, but this time much more calmly, “they’d want to have the option to explore themselves and?—”

“I said we’d discuss.” Senator Tove tapped a small bell-looking thing, but the sound of the chime vibrated much louder than Ximena expected. It was as if the chime cleared all tension out of the room. “Now, are there any other questions for the Senate before we begin transcribing?”

Erros looked at Cian. Cian nodded and turned to Old Man Frypan.

“Yes, Senator. We ask that Frypan be granted viewable access to the library of all participants and all lineages of the Subjects from Group A.” He clasped his red scarf between his hands.

“It’s the least we can do for his sacrifice all those decades ago. ”

“The least we can do.” Erros echoed his brother.

One by one, the heads of Levels and the Senators looked away from Cian and the rest of the group, and then down at their own hands.

Although none of these people had been alive when Frypan was taken for the Trials, separated from his family, even Ximena knew it was time to right a long-forgotten wrong.

Senator Tove finally nodded. Another Senator jumped to his feet and went over to the library of thick, black books on the farthest shelf. She pulled out a large, leather-bound book, and then sat it down with a thump in front of Frypan.

“You may review this for as long as you like,” she said. “We only ask that when you’re finished, you bring it back. Here, to the Lineage Library.”

Frypan looked down at the closed book, “Group A Trials” etched into the cover. He traced the text with his hand. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Ximena squinted at the shelf from which the woman had grabbed the book and counted how many more there were. Over twenty. WICKED was truly wicked.

“Well?” Isaac looked at Frypan.

“Open it!” Jackie squeezed the Glader’s arm lovingly and Jackie, Miyoko, and Isaac crowded over his shoulders as he opened the book of Group A’s true history.

Ximena couldn’t help but peek over at the sacred artifact, too.

The first page contained photos of teenage boys with numbers written under each of them.

Old Man Frypan ran his hand along the grid of pictures while the faces of each Subject A stared back at him.

His aged fingers then lingered atop the photographed face of his younger self.

Remnant soldiers continued to chant for freedom as they rushed to the surface of Alaska’s City of Gods.

They wanted to find the Grief Bearers who’d held them down, kept them enslaved since their births.

Minho trusted they would get the last of the war-itch out of their systems before he introduced them to the peace that awaited.

Well, relative peace. They deserved the future of freedom they fought for, all of them.

He’d used every last bit of energy he could conjure up to lead the soldiers to their destiny, and he needed a minute.

He wasn’t yet ready to trade the safety of the Glade for the war-torn world above them.

He was exhausted, utterly, and every breath became more difficult than the one right before it.

Orange knelt beside him in the grass. “Hang tight. Kit’s getting a med pack, and he’ll even bring the medic down if he can.” He nodded, trying to say thank you with his eyes.

Dominic plopped down on his other side. “Hold on, buddy. We’ve still got a lot of stuff to do—you’re gonna get better.”

“Lots of stuff,” Roxy agreed; she scooted closer to Minho.

Sadina sighed. “How are we supposed to do anything when the Maze Cutter is in flames and we’re stuck here?”

Dom suddenly shouted, “Oh! That Berg in the woods!”

The kid finally remembered , Minho thought with a hidden smile.

“Berg in the woods?” Roxy asked, rubbing her wrists.

“Minho found it when he followed Alexandra.” Dominic didn’t seem bothered by the Pilgrims right behind him, worshipping every inch of the Maze with their own odd rituals.

Sadina looked hopefully at Minho. “So, you can take us to find my mom, my friends?”

He nodded. He knew Isaac would be waiting for him at the spot along the coast where they’d said their goodbyes and split up into groups.

Isaac had made Minho promise that if things went south they’d meet back there, and in that moment and every moment since, Minho knew it would come to be.

Not quite everything had gone south, but they’d meet there, anyway.

“A promise is a promise.” Minho coughed up a bit of blood and closed his eyes. “Sadina?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you read me something from your book . . .”

“Absolutely. I know just the thing.”

She cleared her throat and flipped to a certain page in the Book of Newt . She read aloud her favorite passage:

Even as the darkness whispers across my mind, beckoning with smoky tendrils of blackness and rot, even as I breathe in the stench of a dying world, even as the blood within my veins turns purple and hot, I feel the peace of a certain knowledge. I have had friends, and they have had me.

And that is the thing.

That is the only thing.