Page 4 of To Cage a Wild Bird (Divided Fates #1)
I did as she asked, nodding to the other members of the Collective as I took my seat and pulled a folded sheet of parchment
from my pocket. I slid it across the table to Aggie.
“Here,” I whispered so the others couldn’t hear. “Tacha Vanil. Single mother. She was left homeless when her apartment building
collapsed last year. She’s wanted for stealing a few ration bars from the market. I found her digging through the rubbish
bins in the alley behind the facility where Jed works.”
It was an agreement Aggie and I had. In exchange for her providing me with intel on the whereabouts of fugitives who’d committed
serious crimes, I helped her track down those who didn’t deserve to be arrested, let alone killed at Endlock. The Collective
took them in and helped hide them. I didn’t know how they did it, and I’d never asked.
Aggie nodded her thanks, tucking the paper into her shawl as she said softly, “We’ll take care of it.”
“So to what do we owe the pleasure of your company this evening?” Gray asked from the other end of the table. “Leaving the
dark side behind to officially join us?”
“In your dreams.” I leaned back in my chair, kicked my booted feet up on the table, and watched as pieces of caked mud flaked
off onto the scarred wooden surface. “I’m only here because Aggs said she had a job for me. One that pays handsomely.”
Aside from my deal with Aggie, I usually stayed far away from the Collective. After all, it was our parents’ involvement with
the rebel group that had gotten them sent to Endlock.
And my big mouth.
But Aggie was my mother’s dearest friend, a fixture in my life. Between the payout she offered and the reward I’d gotten for
turning over Torin, I might have enough credits to stock our pantry and bribe the overseer at the water treatment facility to move Jed to the day shift.
“Of course,” Gray spat, as if he’d heard my thoughts. “Credits are the only thing you care about. Your parents would be—”
“ Graylin ,” Aggie scolded her son as if he were still a child and not a man of twenty-five years.
My face grew hot at the mention of my parents, but I didn’t rise to his bait. “That’s simply not true.” I tipped my mug back,
taking a large swallow before slamming it on the table. “I care a great deal about myself, too, Gray.”
He stabbed the tip of his dagger into the table, moving to stand, but stopped short when Aggie held up a hand.
“Enough,” Aggie said, taking a long pull from her pipe. “There’s enough violence in this world to last a dozen lifetimes.
I won’t have any of it here.” Tendrils of smoke slipped from her lips as she spoke, wrapping me in the floral-sweet smell
of the smoldering ironroot leaves she puffed on to keep her joint pain at bay.
Graylin nodded and closed his mouth, but that didn’t stop him from leveling a glare in my direction.
“Speaking of violence.” I scanned the table, noting that one face was absent. “Wasn’t Eris supposed to be here tonight?”
The other cell leaders joined the Lower Sector meetings on occasion to keep up-to-date on news they didn’t trust messengers
with.
“You really think he’d be here after the news stream today?” Gray’s words were heavy with condescension.
“So it’s true, then?” I’d held out hope that it was someone else. That Eris wouldn’t have gone as far as destroying food.
“It’s true that part of the harvest was burned,” Aggie said, lips downturned at the corners. “But we haven’t been able to
get in touch with Eris to confirm his alleged involvement. Some Collective members believe the Council ordered the fire.”
My jaw dropped. “The Council? Why?”
“To frame the Collective,” Gray said.
“The public’s opinion of us has changed in recent months,” Loria chimed in.
“For the better. The recruits in the program Gray’s heading have managed to hand out thousands of extra rations and made it known that they were coming from the Collective.
Zael and Opal’s crew have been renovating one of the abandoned factories to put roofs over more families’ heads.
Citizens are associating us with safety and protection. ”
I shook my head. “It’s one thing for the Council to want to gain back public favor but another for them to destroy food. We’re
starving as it is. And Silas Elder died in that fire. Why would they allow that to happen?”
“We don’t know that the Council is behind it,” Opal insisted. “It’s just a theory.”
“They’d rather all of us starve than think we could survive without them lording over us,” Gray spat. “And nothing could make
people hate us more than letting them believe we destroyed their food.”
But that didn’t answer my question about Silas Elder.
“We’ll discuss this later,” Loria cut in, casting a meaningful look in my direction before I could question them further.
Aggie already said too much in front of me for Loria’s taste, especially as I’d always refused to officially join the cause.
“What’s the job, Aggs?” I asked, changing the subject and cutting through the tension in the air.
Aggie coughed, hacking until Loria leaned forward and slapped her on the back. Eventually, Aggie took a gulp from the mug
in front of her and clasped Loria’s hand in hers before speaking.
“I need you to intercept Councilor Elder’s communications, specifically the letters she’s been sending to a contact at Endlock.”
For a moment, the only sound in the room came from Graylin stabbing his dagger into the table, over and over.
I laughed.
“Are you mad?” I pushed back from the table and got to my feet. The only thing I wanted more than credits was for the Council
to know nothing of my existence. “I’d be sent straight to Endlock.”
“Not if you don’t get caught,” Aggie replied.
“Councilor Elder hasn’t confided in any of our agents who have made it into her inner circle.
She keeps her cards close to her chest—but she sends frequent communications to someone at Endlock.
And all written communications are sent on the daily transport with the new inmates—you’d just need to find a way to get her letter off the transport. ”
“Why is she sending written communications in the first place?” I frowned, the question forcing its way past my lips against
my better judgment. “Why not send an encrypted message from her tablet?”
Gray smirked. “One of our recruits in Elder’s inner circle was able to hack into the Council’s secure messaging platform.
They didn’t see much before they were locked out, but Elder has been sending written communications to Endlock ever since
while her team shores up security.”
I shook my head. That was... I hadn’t realized the Collective had such major connections. Even still, there was no way
I was going through with something so risky.
“It’s important, Raven,” Aggie said softly, as if reading my thoughts. “My source from the North Settlement said Councilor
Elder has been in contact with their leaders, insisting they let her and her entourage visit.”
“Why?” I asked, my sense of reason shoved aside by my curiosity.
“She says it’s to study their crop growth and see if there’s anything our scientists can learn from them to improve our own yield.”
The land around Dividium was dying.
When I was young, my family hadn’t worried very much about food. As far as I remembered, it hadn’t exactly been plentiful,
but I’d rarely gone to bed hungry. But ten years ago, something had changed. The soil had revolted—some dormant side effect
that arose from the earth’s radiation poisoning during the war. Now our crops were resistant to growth despite our most experienced
scientists and farmers battling against the infected soil.
As food grew scarcer, prices soared, and we were driven closer to starvation.
“You don’t think that’s what she actually wants from the North Settlement?” I asked, mulling over Aggie’s words.
Aggie shook her head, but it was Loria who spoke. “If she cared so much about making sure we didn’t starve, she’d regulate the waste and overconsumption running rampant in the Upper Sector and pay our people fair wages. There’s more than enough to go around if it’s allocated correctly.”
I didn’t know about that, but there was no use arguing with Loria.
“What else could she want with them?” I asked.
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Aggie mused.
I shook my head. “Aggs, you know I’d do anything for you, but this... this is a death sentence.”
“If anyone can do it, I know you can,” Aggie said around a yawn. The ironroot helped her pain, but it was also a sedative.
She wouldn’t last at the meeting much longer.
I was silent for a moment, thinking. “Bar Jed from joining the Collective, and I’ll consider it.”
The hushed conversation among the other members came to a standstill.
Gray barked out a humorless laugh and opened his mouth to speak, but a glare from Loria stopped him.
“Raven,” Aggie said, shaking her head. “He’s an adult. You can’t protect him forever. He has to make his own choices.”
“It’s the only offer you can make me. That and the credits.”
“Raven...” Aggie started, but her eyelids were drooping.
“We need some time,” Loria said, cutting in and nodding in my direction. “Go on. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
I was seated at the bar, halfway through my third mug of ale, when the hair on the back of my neck rose. I swiveled on my
stool, scanning the room until I found the source of the feeling—a man seated in a dark booth in the corner, staring at me
with no attempt at discretion.