"I'll be waiting when they bring you down," he said.
I nodded and waved him away. He needed to get out of the tree before he was seen. And before he could see the tears forming in my eyes. It was cruel for Della to have taken my medicine.
And cruel for me to have refused to offer any medicine to her, after I had been responsible for the loss of her flask. This was probably exactly how she had felt on the boat ride over here, in pain but with no one offering sympathy, and with no hope of things getting easier. Meanwhile, I had sat almost right next to her with a full flask of medicine, indifferent about offering her even a sip. No, determined not to offer her help of any kind. In many ways, I was no better than she.
It was only minutes later when the Colony began to awaken. Della was one of the last to leave the prison and looked worse than I felt, which was no small accomplishment considering that my insides were knotting themselves into ever tightening loops. The medicine was doing her no good. Or maybe even harming her, if she was drinking too much of it. Even the River People's mild herbs could be dangerous if we took too much.
This was going to become a problem. If I wanted to become her friend--which I didn't, by the way--the truest act of friendship was to take that medicine away and control its dosage for her. But if I did that, she would hate me even more, and then I'd have no choice but to do
something unkind back, earning her revenge. Also a deadly cycle.
It was another few hours before Warden Gossel returned for me, along with two other men, to lower my cage. Once it was on the ground, he crouched beside me and checked the door to be sure it was locked.
"Were you in here all night?" he asked.
I nodded up at the tree. "I was up there, yes, sir." That was truthful enough.
"Most people start crying after the sun goes down," he said, then muttered something under his breath about River People. A compliment, I thought.
I smiled at that. We had the reputation of being stronger than the townsfolk, but maybe we weren't. Maybe we just didn't follow the same rules. Because if I had remained in the cage, I probably would've done worse than just cry to get out.
He helped me from the cage, and though I was unsteady on my feet at first, I realized that I felt better than I had earlier that morning. I still had some pain, of course, but less than before.
"You've been given a job assignment," he said. "Laundry. You'll be responsible for collecting used linens from the old prison and bringing them to the wash." His eyes narrowed. "Do grubs know about washing, or do you all just stand in the river to get clean?"
"Actually, we avoid cleanliness," I replied. "Our smell keeps you pinchworms away."
He smiled, though it instantly darkened. "With that attitude, I bet you don't last a week here, grub."
"You're pronouncing that word wrong," I said. "It's not 'grub'; it's 'Ani.' Hear the difference?"
"No." Gossel had roughly the same sense of humor as a cornered snake. None.
"I'm not as sick as when I got here," I said. "I intend to get over the Scourge."
"Nobody gets over the Scourge," he said. "Not when they understand how bad it really is."
I turned on my heel to walk away from him. "Pinchworms might not get better. But River People do."
Weevil was waiting for me right outside the gate. "Why is your face so flushed?" Then he added, "You were arguing with that warden, weren't you?"
"He started it."
"I doubt that. Here, take this." He handed me some flapjacks. They were cold and slightly burnt, but I didn't care. "Don't miss any more meals, all right? It's getting harder to steal for you."
I nudged his side. "When we get home, I promise not to tell everyone how good you're getting at stealing and sneaking around. They'll think I've corrupted you."
"You corrupted me a long time ago." His smile was mischievous, but he didn't nudge me back. He was probably worried about how sick I might still feel. "Now come on. Let's put some distance between us and that cage."
I followed Weevil toward the Colony's square. "Where are we going?"
"We need to find rooms. I waited to claim some until you were out."
"In the boats, Marjorie warned against staying in the old prison."
"Where else would we go? Besides, the wardens were very clear that everyone was to stay in there. The upper floors are quieter, but since they're farther up, it's harder to get help as the sickness worsens."
"I'm going to get better," I said. "We can take an upper floor."