The blistered woman invited Jenn, Jesse and the Natal boy to sit with her and her two sons. Like her, their faces were blotched in red blisters. The other Xomenclature were all talking with one another, clearly stimulated by what Jenn had said.

"Thank you so much for inviting us to talk with you," said Jenn.

The woman smiled.

"Yeah," added Jesse. "No offense, but I've heard a lot of terrible things about the Outskirts. Someone told me that it's where cannibals live. I'm just relieved you don't want to eat us."

"Well," said the woman, "considering our food situation, that may not be a bad idea."

Jenn leaned forward. "Sorry for asking," she said, "but what do you need the medicine for?"

"It's quite alright," said the woman. "You can ask whatever you'd like. But as you can probably tell, many of us are sick. My sons and I suffer from a rare disease that, if untreated, will cause our entire bodies to swell. We usually don't look like this, but we haven't had our medicine for months, so our illness is beginning to take its effect."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Jenn. "I wish we could help."

"Trust me, you've already helped."

Jenn smiled.

A woman, about the same age as the blistered woman, approached. "Can I offer any of you some water?" she said.

"Yes, please," said Jenn, answering for all of them. She would have normally declined the offer, but she was unusually thirsty; it must've been something in the air.

The woman bowed and retreated.

"Now," said the blistered woman, "I think we should talk about what you said. I don't think any of us clearly understand what it is that you're asking for."

Jenn could understand, for she barely even knew what she was asking.

"I'm asking for your help—for to take up arms and march with us to Denethgilne. That'll be our starting point, and after we take over the city, we'll head for the Imperial Mass."

"But we have no weapons here," said the woman's son. "And only a few of us have ever held a sword."

Before Jenn could respond, the woman returned with a platter of glasses. As she served each of them a glass, Jenn noticed her hand trembling.

"Thank you," said Jenn, taking the glass from her to prevent it from spilling.

She took a sip, but had to stop herself from instantly spitting it out. The water tasted as rancid as the air smelled. Jesse didn't manage it as well though, barely missing the woman's face as she spit out the water.

"Yuck," said Jesse. "I think that water's rotten." She turned to Jenn, "Can water be rotten?"
"I apologize," said the blistered woman, "but our filtration system isn't great. I suppose we're just used to it."

"That's terrible," said Jenn. "You've survived on this water your entire lives?"

They all nodded.

"I can't believe how poorly you've been treated," said Jenn. "Well, I can, but it makes me so angry—especially that nobody seems to care."

"Well, dear, nobody knows about our situation. Like your friend said, the people believe the stories they hear about us. They don't see us as people, so there's no reason to feel any sympathy for us."

Jenn felt guilty, for she had been susceptible to the same rumors. Even her uncle, who probably knew the region better than anyone else, had misconceptions about the Outskirts.

"How did you all end up here?" said Jenn. "Did the Imperial Mass force you all to move here?"

"Not us personally," said the women, "but our early ancestors. Everyone here has lived in the Outskirts their entire lives. Only a handful of us have ever been beyond the wall."

"But why?" said Jenn.

The woman's face saddened as she looked at her two sons. Jenn hoped she hadn't offended them—something that she had been trying to avoid.

"Because we're all different," the woman said.

"Because of your blisters?" said Jesse.

"For my sons and I, yes," she said. "But everyone is here for a different reason. Some because of their physical or mental illnesses—others because whom they choose to love."

"What do you mean?" said Jesse.

"Women who fall in love with women, or men with men."

"That's ridiculous," said Jenn. "I can't believe those banish people for things like that."

"It gets worse," said the woman. "Some of the men and women here used to be soldiers for the Imperial Mass. But once they returned home, they couldn't forget the things they'd seen. They became chronically sad, and some decided to take their own lives. But this brought a lot of attention from the citizens in the major cities—including Denethgilne, as you mentioned before. So any ex-soldier who couldn't fake their happiness was banished here. You see, they didn't want the people to see how miserable they were."

"That's terrible," said Jenn, clenching her fist.

The woman nodded. "It is. But the system is very sensitive—anything that poses a threat is immediately removed."

Jenn thought of her parents and how the council must have labeled them a threat. What a misjudgment that had been.

"I don't mean to be rude," said Jenn, "but why did they send you all here instead of, well..."

"Just killing us all?" said the woman, offering Jenn a heartfelt smile.

"Well, yes."

"I can't answer that for certain, but I believe we're here for a purpose. Let me ask: what exactly was your impression of the Xomenclature before coming here?"

Jenn had imagined the Xomenclature multiple times during their trip: beastly quadrupeds with hooked teeth and fungal-infested claws. But she didn't want to admit that.

"I thought you'd all have three eyes," said Jesse. "Or, that's what my parents told me at least."

"I'm sorry to admit it," said Jenn, "but I was actually afraid to come here, too."

The woman laughed. "I would've been, too." she said. "But that's my point. The council and the leaders of the Imperial Mass have made a tremendous effort to preserve our image. By describing us as a violent species, they put fear into the people—and when people are afraid, they're easier to control. I believe that the Outskirts is, quite simply, used to justify the order of things." She took a sip of water. "But what do I know. I'm just a simple woman who's been underground her entire life."

"No," said Jenn, taking the woman's hand. "I think you're right."

"You're all pretty smart for living in the Outskirts your entire lives," said Jesse.

"Why thank you," said the woman, clearly unoffended.

Jenn sipped her water proudly; if the Xomenclature could bear it their entire lives, then she could for at least a day.

"Now let's get back to your plan," said the woman. "Like Thomas said, none us know how to use a weapon, except for maybe the ex-soldiers. But there are only three of them."

This was something that Jenn had already considered, but she had yet to think of an answer. As she thought, a sad-eyed boy approached the table.

"Mother Ainos?" he said.

The blistered woman caressed his head in her hands. "Yes, Oliver?"

"Can you come help my grandmother—she won't stop coughing."

"Certainly." She rose from the table, along with her two son. She turned to Jenn, "We'll be back in a moment."

Jenn smiled and nodded. She looked over at Jesse, who smiled, then at the Natal boy. But he was too busy stirring his water with his finger to notice.

"Why would Mr. Paul send us here?" said Jesse, whispering into Jenn's ear. "These people can't help us."

"I don't know," said Jenn, "but we have to think of something."

"What do we do?"

"I don't know, give me a second to think."

"We could teach them how to fight," said Jesse.

"With what, Jesse?" said Jenn, her voice slightly raised.

"I dunno," said Jesse. "It was just an idea..."

"I'm sorry," said Jenn. "I'm just so frustrated with everyone right now. Why would my uncle think it was a good idea to come here?" Jenn put her face in her hands and shook her head. "I wish he was here..."

Jesse didn't make another effort to respond.

"Why would he say there's hope here?" said Jenn, this time to herself.

Realizing that her negative feelings wouldn't produce any solutions, Jenn began to put herself in the mind of the most intelligent person she'd ever known—Charles. She remembered Elad telling her that Charles had replaced his sword with his mind. She had to ask herself what Charles would do. Then, like a flash of sprightly wind, it came to her.

"I think I have an idea," said Jenn.

"What is it?"

"The people think that the Xomenclature are horrific creatures, right?"

"Uh huh."

"So what if we brought them to the people, and showed them that they're just like them? Then the council would have to answer to the people—they would have to explain why they've lied to them for so many years. It just might be the spark we need to turn the citizens against them."

"I guess that makes sense."

"So we just have to bring them out of the Outskirts and into Denethgilne."

"But how do we do that?" said Jesse. "Even if they agree to come, there are soldiers and Guardians all over Ausmik. I don't think they're gonna just let us march into Denethgilne."

Jenn thought for a moment.

"We'll just have to be careful," said Jenn, looking at her Natal companion and smiling; he smiled back.

The blistered woman returned, this time without her sons.

She wiped some sweat from her head, "Sorry about that."

"Mother Ainos?" said Jenn. "I think we have an idea."

"Please—call me Alba."

"Alba," said Jenn. "I thought about what you said about the citizens thinking that you're—well—not human."

"Yes."

"But if they saw that you were just like them, then they might think differently—they might realize they've been lied to their entire lives."

"So you think they'd be angry enough to rebel."

"Exactly," said Jenn. "It'll be dangerous, but I think it's the only way. Do you think the Xomenclature would be willing?"

"I can't speak for them, dear, but I can speak for myself." She leaned over the table and cupped Jenn's hand. "You must understand that, for obvious reasons, the Xomenclature lack confidence in the people." She smiled. "With that said, I'll go wherever you lead me—and I believe the Xomenclature will follow."

Jenn's chest warmed. This woman, a stranger until now, had put her faith into her. It wasn't until now that Jenn realized how fortunate she was. Jesse and the Natal boy had also, without question, put their lives in her hands. It was almost overwhelming, but Jenn took a deep breath and raised her head.

"So," said Alba, "should we find out who'll follow us?"

Jenn smiled and nodded.

They all rose from the table and followed Alba to the a nearby cot. There, her boys were at the bedside of a pale-faced woman. Her hair was as white as snow, but her face was young and unblemished.

"William," said Alba. Her son turned to her. "You and Thomas go tell everyone that we have an important announcement—but don't say any more than that."

"Yes, ma'am."

The two boys departed while Alba took their place alongside the bed.

"Grandma Gains," said Alba, whispering into the pale woman's ear. "You rest now, but we'll be back soon."

The woman didn't offer so much as a nod.

"Come, now," said Alba, gesturing to Jenn.

Jenn followed her to table in the corner room; it was the only table in the room.

As Jenn stared wide-eyed at the gathering Xomenclature, Alba turned to her. "Remember, most of us haven't seen light past the wall, so don't be too disappointed if they're hesitant at first."

Jenn nodded. Alba offered her hand and helped Jenn onto the table. Jenn took a deep breath, waiting for the crowd to gather.

As she looked out at the many faces—some old and battered, others young and lively—she found a hunched over old man whose bones were nearly visible. The man was looking up at her, his hands folded behind him. She smiled at him, but his face remained straight. She then found a pair of girls who looked like mirror images of one another; it was the first time she had ever seen twins, though she had heard of them. Finally, she looked at the blistered-faced woman who was staring up at her, offering more inspiration than she was probably aware of. The people weren't vocal, but attentive. They were there to listen, and that gave Jenn courage.

Jenn cleared her throat. "Hello," she said. The room was silent, everyone's ears tuned to her voice. "I can't imagine the things you've all been through, and I'm sorry for that. The Imperial Mass and council have done terrible things to you—they've done terrible things to all of us. They think they can get away with it, just like they have for so many years, but now, it's time to change that."

Jenn paused for a moment, briefly stricken by the crowd's unbroken attention. She took a deep, silent breath.

"They've taken everything, hoping to break us. But that was a mistake, because now, there's nothing left for us to lose. If we rise up against them, then we have nothing to fear but failure. But if we choose to stay here, underground for the rest of our lives, then we'll regret it every single day."

Jenn saw that everyone was nodding, even pale-faced grandma who was now sitting up on her bed.

"The people are afraid of you because they've been taught to fear you—they know nothing else. But if we march to Denethgilne, then they'll see who you really are. They'll see that your just like them—like their children—like their mothers and grandmothers. It'll open their eyes to a new world—and it'll open their minds. I know that you're all scared, but that's exactly how they want you to feel. You have the power to change Ausmik, and that's why they keep you down here. They're afraid of you. So please, follow me—follow me to Denethgilne and help reclaim the lives that have been stolen from us."

She stopped speaking, waiting for someone, anyone, to respond.

"Take us," said the hunched old man. "Take us young girl, and lead us."

Jenn found herself hopping off the table and approaching the old man. She took his boney hand. "I'll lead you."

The Xomenclature erupted. They threw their fists in the air and cheered.

Jenn threw her fistin the air. "I'll lead you!" she said. "I'll lead you!"