Nada's Escape

43- Advocate.

Amy bounces on her toes beyond the widening gap made by the sliding door. It's close to ludicrous for me to be on this side of it for once. Amy dashes through before the warden and a wave of relief washes over me as she keeps coming, throwing herself into my arms.

"What the hell happened to you?" She whispers fiercely against my ear. I blow crimpy blonde hair away from my mouth to reply.

"So many crazy things." I hold her tighter, my eyes feeling strangely wet. "It's so good to see that you're okay." Actually it's just really great to see you, I add to myself, rubbing the moisture from my eyes in irritation.

She pulls back and sinks her fingers into my shoulders then, focusing concrete eyes on me. "And Finley?" She asks, probing me for signs of enthralment.

Mouth half open to answer, the warden moves into the room behind her, drawing my eyes. It's the same one who had been on the gate the day of the garden party. I don't know if this makes him an ally but as his gaze locks onto mine, also questioning I don't have a good feeling. A thrill of trepidation chills me at his interest: does he work for the council, or worse Finley's father?

"Finley's Finley." I reply off handily. Amy's fingers sink further into my flesh, shaking me like a bag of marbles. "Hey!" I admonish at the same time the warden huffs a bored warning.

"Come on girls."

Amy releases me with a hasty push, body vibrating like a scolded cat. Her gaze is assessing, hard, despite our recent reunion and I understand that she has ramped up her ferocity in my absence. I rotate the events of the last few days in my mind, searching for a way to tell her I'm fine without letting the warden in on my secrets.

"I did... leave with Finley. But I didn't swear the pledge... before I got the chance the Huntsmen found something to make them trust me, to make me one of them." I open my hand hesitantly to show the symbol, mind awhirl with the effort of doctoring my truths to what I want the warden to report back to his master.

A complex play of emotions that I can't untangle runs across her face. I try to put myself in her shoes, imagine what I'd be feeling: wariness, fear, curiosity. If I know Amy then curiosity will win out. I bid her sit with a gesture and begin in halting phrases to divulge what has occurred over the last few days. Amy is being true to herself. One second her eyes glow in defiance, the next they sparkle with revelation. Still, she curbs her questions, snapping out only distrustful quips, playing the part of the fighter.

"Basically if you don't pledge to a Huntsmen sponsor by tomorrow you'll be terminated. What happens to you is up to you." I finally say, my impatience with watching my words grown to a bone-weary tiredness as the hands on my new wind-up watch tick inevitably on to my half-hour limit.

"That's a horrible deal. I won't do it." Amy responds simply, her eyes trying to calculate what I'm up to. I remember with exasperation how she had agreed with Finley's ribbon plan when we'd discussed it before my escape. Doesn't she remember that we have this covered?

I turn to the warden with a huff, "Am I able to get a cup of water?" On queue his face puckers under a frown.

"I'll be back before you can say enthralled." He warns and strides through the door.

"Martin. His name is Martin." My eyes flick back to Amy who folds her arms on the table. "If you want people to do what you say, you should at least know their names."

"Amy. Please. I need your help." I rebuff her sauce with raw pleading, pressing my hand down over hers. The stolen posting list, folded up into a wad, presses against the backs of her fingers. "This will mean more to you than me. And I hate Finley but I can't let the council know it."

As Martin re-enters I pull my hand back, pretending to check my watch again.

"I don't know, Nada. I'm not sure if I can trust you anymore. You sound like a Huntsmen." Amy's voice is so believable as she stands but she taps the side of her nose so only I can see and heads for the door. Intercepted by Martin she puts a hand on her hip. "We're done."

I swallow my little triumphant smile. That went surprisingly well.

I continue to meet with the other girls throughout the day, telling them of my plan for tomorrow. I often speak haltingly, trying to convey certain messages encoded in expression, tone and gesture so that Martin, still planted by the door won't hear. It doesn't come naturally to be on the other side of the table, staring into the eyes of those still incarcerated. They all share that wary acceptance overlayed with defiance or grief or shallow smiles.

The three musketeers are each wary, which I'm more than a little proud of. When I tell them that I'll be their sponsor, however, they become sympathetic and begrudgingly agree to take the pledge. Fern warns me that if I'm trying to trick them she'll smell it out.

The fencers each shrug, seeing no other choice. Quiet, dark-eyed Beth only seems to be interested in getting back to her paperback, which she flicks nervously at the corners of. I dread talking to the weepers, it's always impossible to find the right thing to say. Lily refuses to look at me and shivers whenever I speak.

"I just want to go home," she whispers.

"I can't do anything about that..." I reply awkwardly, all the half-truths unravelling in my mind on seeing the slow fall of tears from red veined eyes. After only a couple of minutes I decide that I had better let her go, in case she reveals anything about my involvement in the monster's injuries. Martin informs me that Stacey's fallen asleep at the lunch table and they don't want to move her. I try not to feel relief and instead move my thoughts on to how Macie will react to my revelations.