Page 48 of To Cage a Wild Bird (Divided Fates #1)

“I ’ m so sorry.”

I felt the words as much as I heard them, as the lips that spoke them were pressed against my ear, and then my temple, and

then my forehead.

“Little Bird. Can you hear me?”

I was comfortable where I was, curled against something solid and deliciously warm.

“Mmm,” I hummed, nestling into the warmth.

“Council above,” the voice murmured. Arms clenched tighter around me, cradling me into a solid chest. “Are you in pain?”

Pain?

What an odd question. Why would I be in pain here? Everything was warm and—

Pain.

It all flooded back, and I wrenched my eyes open, needing to see if my arm had been permanently damaged.

But it was fine.

The limb was curled over my abdomen, slightly red but otherwise completely normal.

And if it had hurt me that much, then—

“August?” I called, shifting in Vale’s arms and scanning the shadowy trees.

“Here, Thorne,” August called back, and I whipped my head in the other direction, a breath leaving me when I saw him. His

hairline glistened with sweat, and he sucked in breaths like he’d been running for miles, but otherwise he appeared unharmed.

“You didn’t pass out?” I asked.

“I did,” he confirmed. “I woke up two minutes ago. I guess pain tolerance is one thing I kick your ass at, bounty hunter.”

He finished his words with a wink, but he was right. We were supposed to find a way to escape through the tunnels during a

hunt, but the idea of trying to leave while under the haze of so much pain... I shuddered.

I turned back to Vale, who pressed another feverish kiss to my brow, his eyes flitting over my face.

“I’m okay,” I told him.

“I can’t believe I did that to you,” he whispered, brow furrowed and lips turned down at the corners. He didn’t meet my eyes,

and his own were heavy with regret.

I reached up, resting a hand on his cheek. “You didn’t have a choice.”

“You asked me to kill you .”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I had. I’d never felt such pain in my life.

I bit my lip. “So make sure I never have to feel that pain again. Make sure we’re out of here before the features go live.”

I watched Vale intently as I spoke, and he finally met my eyes, staring into them for a long moment before giving a firm nod.

He placed me gently on my feet, a hand pressed solidly against my back until I proved I was capable of walking.

We headed back for Endlock, walking in silence for a few minutes before August spoke up.

“How are we going to make sure all six of us get selected for a hunt at the same time when we’re ready to escape? Kit needs

to know the exact day, almost down to the hour, that we’re going to leave so that when she hacks into the security system,

she can set a time for the tracking on our wristbands to expire.”

It’d been something I’d been thinking about, too—how uncomfortable it was that a huge piece of our escape plan was going to

be left up to chance. We could taunt the hunters all we wanted, but it didn’t guarantee they’d select us as targets.

“I think we have to leave at night,” Vale said, stopping August and me in our tracks.

“At night?” I hissed, and at the same time, August asked, “How would we get out on the grounds without anyone noticing?”

Vale held his hands up in a placating gesture. “I know it’s hard to picture, but leaving at night is the only way to make

sure no one gets left behind. We’ll have to make sure everyone’s passed out.”

“ How? ” I asked, sharing an exasperated look with August. Of course, leaving at night would be preferable. If we left during a hunt,

Larch would notice much sooner, and we wouldn’t have much of a head start before he sent search parties after us.

“I don’t know,” Vale admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was thinking of drugging the food in the mess hall, but I

can’t figure out a way to make sure everyone eats it. There’s more than one dinner shift, and a lot of the time the guards

and Larch don’t even eat the food from the mess hall. And then I’d have to figure out which drug to use.”

“Concentrated ironroot.”

The words slipped off my tongue before I knew I was going to say them. As he’d spoken, I’d pictured Aggie—she’d smoked ironroot

for years, had built up something like an immunity so that it took longer for the herb to lull her to sleep, but for most

people the effects were nearly instantaneous.

August nodded. “That would work.”

“But there’s still the question of how to get it into anyone’s system,” I mused. Vale was right—attempting to put it into

the food was too risky.

We tossed ideas back and forth all the way back to the prison, eventually deciding to loop our friends in and see if they

could come up with a solution.

By the time we tucked ourselves within Endlock’s walls, I was aching for a shower. After passing Larch, who seemed immensely

pleased by our disheveled appearances, I was granted a blissfully private shower in the bathrooms. The guards had already

confined the other inmates to their cells for the night, and I allowed myself to linger under the hot stream of water.

No matter how vigorously I scrubbed and regardless of my memory of the pain infliction feature, I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face.

Because soon, we would be tasting freedom.

“The ventilation shafts.”

My spoon stopped midair, halfway toward my mouth with a bit of porridge, and I stared wide-eyed at Jed. “What?”

“Assuming we could figure out a way to vaporize concentrated ironroot,” Jed said, biting at his thumbnail. “We should be able

to push it through the ventilation system and into every area of the prison.”

August, Yara, and I exchanged looks, all of us wearing matching slack-jawed expressions. A bubble of laughter left me.

August let out a low whistle. “Council above.”

“That could work,” Kit said, scraping the last spoonful of porridge from her bowl. “We’d need an ultra-concentrated ironroot

tincture. And then I’d need to install a diffuser into the ventilation system—the system should do the rest and push the vapors

into the rooms across the prison.”

“Jed,” I whispered, shaking my head in awe. Just days ago I’d thought the best course of action had been to leave him out

of these important conversations, and now... I didn’t know if we’d have a solution without him.

His cheeks reddened, and he ducked his head.

“Uh, two problems,” Yara said, pointing her spoon at Kit. “Where are we going to get concentrated ironroot tincture? And how

are we going to keep from breathing it in along with everyone else?”

“Well,” Kit started, shooting me a sheepish look. “Our resident bounty hunter might have to step up again for this one. The

Collective has access to pocket-sized respirators.”

I blinked. It wasn’t like the Collective was dropping bombs or walking through irradiated areas where they’d need to wear

something like that.

“Why do they have—?” I started but Kit cut me off.

“We need seven,” she continued. “And I’d guess your connection should also be able to get us the ironroot tincture, too?”

I grimaced. Gray probably could get us what we needed, but it was a risk.

“Vale can’t help?” I asked.

August shook his head. “He risks enough as it is. If he got caught, we’d be done for.”

I frowned. If Vale were caught, he’d be locked in a cell like the rest of us.

“I’ll write to my connection,” I whispered. “We need to get out. Soon.”

“Get me what I need, Thorne, and then we can choose a day,” Kit promised.

Gorgeous Gray,

You failed to meet my last request, so I’m giving you a final opportunity to redeem yourself.

I need seven respirators.

And ironroot tincture. Of the highly concentrated variety that would send an entire prison into an uninterruptible slumber.

Can you do that for me, Gray?

If you can, I can send you a departure date that’s well within the settlement’s deadline.

Xoxo,

Raven

Thorne,

You wound me.

I can get you all the respirators and ironroot tincture in the world; though if I were my mother, I would be questioning why

you need seven respirators when you should only need three.

Give me a few days. Stay alive.

—G

“224, come with me.”

I looked up from my workbench and the project I was working on with Yara, to see the blond guard, Anya, standing in the doorway,

beckoning me.

“Inmate 224 is on duty,” Vale said, brows raised, before I could open my mouth.

“She’s being put on kitchen duty today,” Anya responded stiffly. “One of the inmates on prep died in this morning’s hunt,

and she’s to replace them temporarily. Warden’s orders.”

Warden’s orders.

The words sent a shiver down my spine. Why would Larch have specifically asked for me to be put on kitchen duty? He’d seemed

frazzled since my last hunt, when the Councilors had walked away unsatisfied, so choosing me for a shitty job could’ve been

a way for him to take out his anger on me.

Still, there was no universe in which I wanted Larch scrutinizing me. The best thing to do was follow his orders without complaint.

My eyes met Vale’s, and I watched as he clenched his jaw. I could tell he was about to protest, so I shook my head at him,

barely discernible. The camera in the workshop was on today, but beyond that, he needed to be more careful around me if we

hoped not to arouse suspicion.

Vale must have seen the movement because he closed his eyes and let out a soft breath.

“You heard her, 224,” he said, voice gruff. “Get moving.”

I trailed behind Anya, through the corridor and up the steps and toward the mess hall. All the while, she didn’t say a single

word.

Anya shoved through the kitchen doors, pushing me ahead of her.

In one corner, sitting on a stool and not paying attention in the slightest, a guard with a white, scraggly beard was engrossed

in a novel. We walked past him and a few inmates scrubbing dishes to the back of the kitchen.

I looked at each of them, trying to take in as much detail as possible in case it would help me through whatever came next.