Page 117 of The Art of Exiley

My hands are already healing, but not fast enough. I do my best to ignore the pain as I untie the ropes around my ankles. Each movement is agony to my fingers as I disturb the blistered flesh.

When I stand and there’s no more fireball in sight, Alfie approaches. But I will not be knocked over or tied up again. When he grabs me, I don’t struggle; instead, I lean into his pull, which causes him to stumble from the unexpected lack of resistance. I use the moment to reach for his neck, praying I picked the right spot. I conduct Ha’i toward his vagus nerve, and I must have done it right, because he slumps to the floor in a faint.

I feel like my heart could explode from relief.

I fumble through Alfie’s pockets and take my stuff back and immediately use my phone to call Mom.

Ugh! Why does she never answer? I hang up and try Kor, but it goes straight to voicemail.

Rafe and Hypatia can’t wait for me forever. I’ll have to head back without learning what I came to learn. I use the torch on my spoon to try to find the path back to the water, but without Rafe to lead me, it’s too dark and overgrown for me to navigate.

I suddenly notice light coming toward me from a much clearer path than the one I’m on.

“Ada? Is that you?”

In the poor light, it takes me a minute to recognize that it’s Kor. He’s thinner, which brings out the exquisite bone structure of his face even more than before, and his hair has grown out longer than I’ve ever seen it. But he looks as calmly commanding as ever, and I feel a sense of relief come over me. He’ll know what to do, and he’ll be able to explain to me what’s going on.

“Hey,” he says as if we’re not on the grounds of a rotting hospital.

“Hi,” I say as if I’m not out of breath from escaping capture.

Then he rushes to me and wraps me in a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

I hug him back, hard, delaying the moment when I’ll have to face the difficult questions that might change everything.

“Ada,” he says into my hair, “what are you doing here? With a heretic?”

I break our hug and step back.Heretic.That’s how the exiles are referred to in the Families’ earliest texts—in theInquisitortexts—but no one calls them that anymore.

“I came to—”

There’s a squawk from the tree above Kor, and he moves a few feet away, motioning me to follow.

“Herons,” he explains. “We need to be careful not to disrupt the birds too much. Our activity on the island has already decreased their breeding, and we don’t want the Audubon Society poking around. You were saying?”

“I came to warn you about how much the Makers know about you and to rescue Hypatia.”

“Why would she need rescuing?”

I remember the state in which we found her, and renewed anger and confusion surface. “Well, it certainly seemed like she needed it.” I’d plannedto spin the rescue as a benefit to the Families, explain that keeping her is not worth the risk since she’s part of the royal family, but I’m too enraged after witnessing her abused condition.

Kor continues. “We sent you to the heretics’ school to get necessary intelligence, not for you to make friends and help them steal from us.”

“What are you even saying? You’re literally kidnapping people!”

“Almost all the Sires have agreed to cooperate willingly. As soon as we explained the importance of our work and helped them to understand their abilities, they were thrilled to help us.”

“You abducted a child from her home and kept her in abusive conditions—”

“She was not mistreated. We tried to make her comfortable and happy, but she barely ate, and we had to keep her in the cell since she tried to escape, which is dangerous for her in this area at night. Last night she attacked a guard—bit his wrist so hard he bled. That’s the reason we put on the collar. Even so, she shouldn’t have reacted so negatively, and I’m sorry for that.” His brows are knit together, genuine concern in his eyes.

“Yes, she’s chronically ill and needs to be returned home so you don’t unleash the ire of the entire royal family and their guard.”

“Unfortunately, we need her, and I can’t let her go.”

“I don’t… Who even are you right now?” I sniffle and realize I’ve started crying again. Crying because I don’t understand what I’m seeing on this island or how Kor could be a part of it. “Kor, you have to understand, the Makers, they’re not bad—those in charge have made selfish decisions, yes, but they’re good people.”

“Stop, Ada. I defended you when others said they didn’t think you were ready for this job. I believed in you. But they were right; you were easily brainwashed. I’m sure the heretics have many fine qualities, but these are the same people responsible for letting the rest of the world suffer when they had the power to help.”

---