Epilogue

Pella awoke, eyes fluttering then screwing tightly shut under a beam of sunlight. For a moment, until the blurriness of sleep washed away, she thought she was back at her tribal homelands, but instead she found herself in a broad, pillowy bed that overlooked a huge glass window. It took a moment for her to recognize the room as Reichardt-Brown’s guest room. She had only otherwise seen it under the gloom of rolling stormclouds, and the play of the golden midday sun made the metal room glow soft and warm.

She sat up in bed, ignoring the wave of dizziness. Her hands were thickly bandaged, and they trembled. Her stomach rumbled, and she suddenly felt weak, as though the mere effort of sitting up had cost her dearly. She looked around, and saw her grandfather slumbering awkwardly in a huge, padded chair that had been pulled up to her bedside. Juren’s head arms were swaddled in similar bandages, and he looked somehow older to her in the soft light. In his lap sat a silver tray, bearing an untouched tuna sandwich and a glass of grape juice. Pella carefully tried to retrieve the sandwich without waking her grandfather, but her loudly complaining stomach gave her away. Juren shifted slowly in his chair, keeping the tray steady as he opened his eyes.

“You’re awake.” he said with a smile. She nodded. Her voice still felt a little raw, but she tried it.

“We’re still in Cog?” she croaked.

Juren’s smile grew wider, and he gestured to the window.

“You’ve been asleep for three days. You missed all the excitement.”

“I think I’ve had enough excitement for a while, Grandpa. What happened?”

“Millions of people saw the sun for the first time. The rains are slowly drying up, and some people have discovered they can safely leave the city after all. Gardens have been planted, water systems are running purer than ever, and a billion cogs are running smooth and dry.”

“How was it?”

“It was beautiful.” said Juren, simply.

Pella smiled, and ravenously bit into her sandwich.

Hundreds of leagues away, Halleck crested the low rise that marked the edge of the camp’s borders. Bray came up beside him, and quietly the two looked over the array of tents and corrals. Larr came limping behind a moment later, and, panting, managed a quiet mutter to Halleck.

“I wish we had good news for them.”

Halleck nodded.

“Me too.”

“It’s going to be tough heading in there. Talking to the elders.”

“I know.”

Larr paused, shifting his weight on the spear he was using as a walking stick.

“It’s been weeks. We don’t even know if they’re still alive.”

“I know, Larr. I know!”

Bray sighed, his expression unreadable under the fringe of his hair. He gave a sidelong glance at Halleck, who shrugged.

“Halleck, what are you going to tell them?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you tell the elders that Pella succeeded?” offered Pup. Halleck frowned. The suggestion didn’t sound like a taunt. He turned to face Pup, who shrugged and pointed over his shoulder. The other three boys turned, standing in a line as they squinted into the distant horizon.

“Is that…” murmured Bray, trailing off. Larr could only nod dumbly. Halleck shaded his eyes, scanning the storm. Here and there, dotting the landscape, a beam of sunlight pierced the clouds, caressing the prairie floor as it swept by. The clouds were still, drifting with the winds, their edges clearly fading away in soft, churning wisps. They stared, waiting. There was no lightning.

Halleck gave a whoop that almost knocked Larr off his feet.

“She did it! She did it!” He laughed, and began half-running, half-tumbling down the slope to the camp.

“Hey, maybe I wanted to tell everyone!” called Pup, giving chase. Larr and Bray grinned, and ambled into the camp at a slower pace. There would be plenty of time to tell their side of the tale once the good news made the rounds.

By the end of the night, the tribe had a new song.