Page 39 of To Cage a Wild Bird (Divided Fates #1)
August was released from the infirmary two days later, and Perri was let out of solitary confinement that same morning. I
shouldn’t have expected Larch to let her rot in there for a week as he’d done to me, but I’d been hopeful.
“Come on , August,” Jed said, exasperated, trying for the third time to grab August’s tray so he could carry it to the table for him.
“I can’t show weakness,” August murmured, refusing Jed’s help. He balanced precariously on one foot. “When you show weakness,
you become weak. And at that point, you’re as good as dead.”
Neither of us reminded him that his ankle was broken and that needing assistance carrying his tray since he didn’t have three
hands—one for each crutch and one for the tray—was perfectly reasonable. Instead, we stood on either side of him in case he
got shaky and needed to lean on us.
August shifted, stuffing both crutches under one arm and holding his tray with the other, and began a precarious hop toward
our table.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Perri’s leg jut into our path.
I took a moment to measure the ferocity of my hunger. My stomach growled, but that was normal. I’d gone longer with far less
food. My need for revenge was more potent than my desire to bite into the spiced porridge in my bowl.
I stumbled deliberately over Perri’s outstretched foot, sending my tray and its contents flying into her face.
The hot, gooey porridge dripped from her hair and chin, and she shrieked through gritted teeth. The other inmates at her table
stared, open-mouthed and silent.
“I’m sorry, Perri,” I cooed, words coated in syrupy sweetness. “Here, let me help you with that.”
I took a napkin and smeared some of the porridge, pressing it deeper into her dark tresses.
“Enough!” she snarled, shoving me away. “You did that on purpose.”
“I didn’t see your foot there,” I said. “I’ll try to be more careful next time.”
She let out a screech and stood, shoving past me to get to the room’s exit.
I grinned all the way to our table, and August’s muted chuckle reached my ears as we settled down onto a bench.
Kit smiled at me from her space across the table, and she divided her helping of porridge between the two of us without a
word. “Not bad, Thorne.”
“Not bad?” Yara laughed, scooping a few spoonfuls from her bowl into mine. “That was amazing. Plus, you’ve given me a great
idea. Oats are so good for your hair. I’m bringing this back to my cell to make a hair mask. You’re a genius.”
Kit laughed, her eyes soft as they fell on Yara, and I noted how their knees knocked together beneath the table. It filled
me with warmth, the idea of them finding something beautiful in a place defined by its cruelty.
When we exited the mess hall, I didn’t miss the smile Vale tried to hide by staring at his shoes. I flushed, my mind flashing
back to our moment in the workshop—his mouth on mine, his hands sliding over my hips, the hard length of him pressed up against
me.
I let out a breathy sigh, and Vale’s head snapped up, gaze meeting mine and eyes darkening before I stepped out the door and
out of sight.
The guards herded us into our cells, and unease burrowed a hole in my stomach when Larch entered our cellblock. It wasn’t
supposed to be our day in the rotation, and he’d said he didn’t usually preside over the hunt selections.
I wondered if the talk of new obstacles had drawn more hunters in, and they’d had to host more hunts, leading to them getting
through the rotation more quickly than usual.
I hadn’t even had time to discuss an alternative escape plan with Kit and August now that the fence was out of the question.
“Some of the Council have graced us with their presence for today’s first hunt,” Larch declared, voice shaky. A bead of sweat
trickled down his temple.
You have no idea how much scrutiny I’m under.
Larch’s words, whispered to Perri the night of her attack on August, came back to me.
I struggled to believe the Council’s passion for hunting was enough to take them away from their busy schedules so soon after
Larch had made a mistake. It had to be some kind of test—Endlock was struggling, and after everything I’d witnessed since
arriving, Larch had to be at risk of replacement.
Larch cleared his throat. “Councilor Baskan and Councilor Elder are here today, along with Councilor Baskan’s son.”
Roald Baskan.
“No,” I said before I could stop myself.
My mouth went dry, and I gripped the bars of my cell, looking across the corridor and meeting Jed’s eyes.
He swallowed, taking measured breaths. It’s okay, he mouthed.
But it wasn’t.
“ Quiet ,” Larch snapped, glaring at me before he continued. “The Councilors have tasked me with selecting their targets for this
hunt. They desire a challenge—prisoners who have eluded death many times before or possess a fighting spirit. Or arrogance.”
His eyes flicked to mine once more.
“We want to be sure our selection meets our guests’ standards. Their entertainment is of utmost importance,” Larch mused,
pacing back and forth along the cellblock. He wiped his palms on the front of his pants, leaving wet marks behind. “First
up is 412. Your record speaks for itself. No inmate poses a bigger challenge than you.”
Murmurs filled the air, spreading through the cellblock like wildfire.
But I’d known Larch’s choice as soon as he’d announced he would be the one selecting targets.
As much as he’d been angry at Perri for injur ing August, Larch was obviously hoping to use it to his advantage.
The hunter who killed August would receive a serious reputation boost.
And if it was a councilor who took August down, they might be pleased enough to convince Coates to overlook Larch’s recent
mistakes.
“224,” Larch sneered, breaking me from my thoughts. “I think your attitude is precisely the kind the Councilors would enjoy
snuffing out.”
Not exactly subtle, but that had never been his strong suit.
Larch selected four more targets, then turned back to me, leveling me with a grin that told me he was about to wield a killing
blow. “And for the last target, inmate number 203. Roald Baskan’s personal request.”
I’d known it was coming from the moment Larch had mentioned Roald’s name, and I just barely managed to keep my expression
neutral, even as my stomach twisted and writhed.
Because choosing Jed was the worst thing Larch could do to me. I was terrified to have him out there with Roald Baskan on
the loose. There was nothing like a vendetta to help accomplish one’s goals, and I knew Roald’s overinflated ego wouldn’t
rest until Jed was dead.
“May the Council watch over you,” Larch crooned, motioning for the guards to haul us from our cells as he waited for us to
give the required response.
But his words were met with silence.
I shouldn’t have been surprised, not after the way the inmates in our cellblock had stepped up to hold Perri accountable after
August’s injury.
But there was another kind of strength in directly defying Larch with their silence.
Larch frowned, placing a hand on the gun holstered at his side, and I gritted my teeth. But the other inmates remained silent,
maybe betting, as I was, that Larch wouldn’t dare to kill us all. Not while the Council was at Endlock, waiting to see if
he’d make another mistake.
A few of the guards looked at one another, uneasy, and seemed to come to a decision. “May they guide us to eternal peace,”
they chanted in unison, snapping Larch out of the worst of his rage.
He stomped ahead of us, and our group let out a collective breath, sneaking glances at one another and sharing small, hesitant
smiles.
This time, Larch sent several guards, including Vale, out ahead of the targets to monitor the forest. Undoubtedly, he wanted to avoid any surprises while the Councilors were on the property.
A small smile tugged at my lips, imagining the shock on his face if I managed to hit one of the Councilors over the head with a sturdy tree branch.
When the buzzer went off, releasing us from our stalls, I braced myself for the sight of Jed quaking with fear. After what
he’d witnessed during our first hunt, I worried he’d dissolve into panic.
But Jed’s hands were steady as he wrapped one of August’s arms around his shoulders—despite August’s protests. I took August’s
free arm and the other half of his weight, and with the two of us as a crutch, he moved with surprising speed, hobbling off
the field a minute shy of the others.
Jed caught my eye, and I found that instead of dread, there was a spark of defiance in his gaze, the blue of his eyes matching
the cloudless sky.
As soon as the thick canopy of trees enveloped us, hiding us from the watchtower guards, Vale appeared from the shadows.
I jumped at the sight of him, and Jed’s eyes widened, wary.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, looking around to see if the other targets had spotted him.
But we were alone.
Vale didn’t answer, and his gaze shifted to August. “You’re sure? Are we doing this? Bringing them in?”
I reared back, eyes flitting between them and finally settling on August. “What’s happening here?”
August grimaced, his mouth opening and then closing without answering me. I snapped my gaze to Vale. “Start talking.”
Here it was. My confirmation that the relationship between them was more than just Vale granting August favors. While I’d
suspected that was the case since I’d first seen them whispering on the hunting grounds, it was another thing to be presented
with proof.
“Gus?” Vale whispered, prompting him instead of answering me.
August hesitated, then gave a firm nod.
“Are either of you going to clue us in?” Jed asked, pulling August’s arm more firmly over his shoulder.
Jed hadn’t had nearly as many interactions with Vale as I had, and while I’d told him about Vale saving me on our first hunt,
he was much warier of the guard than I’d grown to be. I couldn’t imagine what was going through his head.