The Wandering (The Lux Guardians, #2) Read Free Page A

Forgotten
London, I imagined a wide land that looked like the area we walked
through yesterday—dead, unforgiving wastelands. But the further
away we get from the crater of F.L. the more I have no choice but
to face the idea that I was wrong.
    Even though I’ve been
rebelling for years, fighting against Official rules by thieving
and going out way after curfew, the truth settles on me like a lead
weight as we walk through the thriving row of fields, green and
yellow grasses bathed in pale morning light. I’ve always believed
what the Officials told me. I never questioned them, not even once.
I might have thought I did, but deep down I believed everything
they said.
    When
they told us the lands beyond our fence were deadly, uninhabitable
places I didn’t question it. I knew they were keeping us inside the
fence for a more malicious reason, to kill us, but I also
knew— thought I
knew—that being free would kill us anyway, that we’d be struck down
by the Strains.
    It never once occurred
to me that there might not be as many Strains out here as we were
told.
    I was willing to risk
whatever dangers the Free Lands might throw at us for a sliver of
freedom, even if that freedom took our lives. But the thought that
this place with its sharp, clean scent and its chattering nature
was always here, safe and waiting for humanity to return to it
…
    As Tia walks mutely
beside me and Branwell trails his fingers through rustling white
flowers, I go to war with myself to keep tears from spilling onto
my cheeks.
    I’ve been so stupid.
So naïve. I let someone else tell me what was true. Did I ever have
a thought that wasn’t influenced by someone else?
    Starting now, I’m
thinking for myself.
    The
only question is: Do I know
how?
     
     
    12:18. 11.10.2040. The
Free Lands, Southlands.
     
     
    There is water. Clean,
drinkable water. My shock is quickly trampled by a tightness in my
chest. There has always been a way to live in the free lands, and
for years we’ve struggled for no reason. If I’d tried to get
through the fence years ago, if I’d discovered my father’s letter
years ago, we would have been living here.
    But would I have been
ready for this? For the expectations and pressure put on me because
of that letter?
    Unite the Forgotten
Lands. Unite the island you live on. Its real name is Great
Britain, The United Kingdom, and it belongs to you. You are
royalty, my children. You have royal blood. You are both Prince and
Princess, and this island, no matter how small and ruined it is, is
yours.
    Unite the Forgotten
Lands. Yeah, because it’s that easy. What the hell made my father
think a couple of kids would be able to make that kind of worldwide
change?
    I guess I know where I
get my naivety from.
    I fill my lungs with
fresh air and shove those thoughts away. I don’t have time to worry
about what the Unnamed wanted. My main priority is Horatia, and I
can’t help her get better if I’m falling apart over some impossible
revolution. The Guardians are the ones that want change, that can
actually make it happen. I’ve already played my part in this
uprising—I gave them the letter. I’m done with it now.
    I watch my twin from
the corner of my eye. She’s looking at the silver lake with more
emotion than I’ve seen in her since we left Forgotten London. I
wonder if she’s thinking the same as me, that the free lands are
everything I’ve dreamed of for so long. The paradise of it all
isn’t even ruined by the tempestuous sky, or the knowledge that the
solar flares burned away the top half of the island before we were
born. The flares might have scorched land into ash, claiming most
of the United Kingdom’s towns, and Officials might have infected
the rest, but there are still places that can be rebuilt.
    For a split second
Tia’s gaze meets mine, the slightest flicker of something other
than grief stirring in her clear brown eyes. I smile, hoping to get
one back, but she returns her attention to the scenery