I gasped. I backed away, tripped and cried out as I fell, hard. I shook my head and scrambled from the scene, but it was too late—I’d seen! That bucket was filled with blood! Sick, bleeding Kongos?! No minor cold, but something much worse. Impossible! The Compromise was clear on the matter. I shook my head again, resisting the image of that bright red waterfall.

“No, it’s not possible,” I whispered. “Jones would have told us.”

Hosea called from the house. “What was that?”

“I don’t know. I’ll see,” Robin said.

“Whatever it is, keep it away. We don’t need anyone else getting sick until we can get a handle on this mess.”

I have to hide. My mind fired orders to my limbs, but I couldn’t move. I sat there, numb, staring into the past.

In their hushed conversation, the giant had spoken of an illness. Many are sick, he’d said. I’d dismissed Robin’s concerns in the kitchen, she had been mad with grief. And later, I’d ignored Hosea’s warning, as he was bent on deception. But what of the giant? What cause had he to lie? I covered my mouth. Don’t answer that! I covered my ears and eyes, but the answer charged forth. He had no reason. He did not lie. A plague had come to Cobane.

Robin appeared in the open window. “Arika!”

In a flash, Hosea appeared behind her. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He propelled himself onto the porch and grabbed my arm. His hands and clothes were wet. He smelled of the antiseptic fluid the Clayskin nurses at the Schoolhouse used to cleanse superficial wounds.

“Let me go, you feral!” I twisted my arm.

He dragged me back in the direction I’d come from—back to the Schoolhouse.

Suddenly, I remembered my assignment. “Hosea, wait.” I dug in my heels, dropped my weight to the ground. “I said wait! Please, be reasonable! I came because—” I stopped short; I couldn’t tell him the truth.

“Because you’re a nosy little brat who won’t take no for an answer,” he finished. “I knew I should have let William have you. How did you get out?”

I lifted my chin. “How did you get out? And where did you get that mask? Did you steal it from the infirmary?”

Growling, he dragged me along. “I don’t have time for this. We have work to do, Cobane. Real work! Can’t you see that?”

“I do have eyes,” I sneered, keeping up with him. “Maybe I want to nurse!” My heart lurched at the prospect. Nursing was out of the question. I had to get Jones her information and get back to the Schoolhouse before anyone discovered I’d left.

He squeezed my arm. “I’d like to see that. A First Brother nursing a dying worker.”