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"There aren’t any pictures on the datapod," I say "Only written descriptions"

"That’s because we all knohat they look like," another sorter says, sounding annoyed

"I know," I say softly, "but I don’t And it’s affecting the sorts we do They’re wrong"

"Are you saying we’re not doing our job correctly?" the first sorter asks, her voice cold "We know the data could have errors But we’re sorting it in theor the end of the sort--it’s not the data or the e’re sorting it Soether in the middle, in the correlation of the lists It’s as if there’s an underlying pheno, so in the data" I’ of the relationship between these two sets of data isn’t right As sure as I aarden day ," says the other sorter, "is that we keep getting the lists to Oker" Every day, we send hihted according to the best infor into account what hasn’t worked

"I don’t kno much Oker listens to us anyway," I say "I think there’s one person Oker trusts, and that’s himself But if we can come to soredients and give that to hiht be more likely to take e say into account if our analysis lines up"

Leyna is watching ," one of the sorters protests

"I don’t feel like I’ht," I say Frustrated, I push backthe datapod in my hand "I think I’ll take my break now"

Rebecca nods

"I’ll walk you to the infir me She works very, very hard, and I know the Otherlands are to her what Ky is to me, the best, most beautiful place, not fully realized, but full of proe circle and pass the enorhs

"What do you use these for?" I ask Leyna

"Voting," she says "It’s hoe choose The fare has a little stone with his or her nahs are where people cast their stones The choice, or trough, with the most votes wins"

"And are there always only two choices?" I ask

"Usually," Leyna says Then she gestures for me to follow her around to the other side of the stone "Look back here"

There are tiny naed in columns Someone has chipped and carved them in They start at the top and come down to the bottom, where there is only a little room left

"This column," Leyna says, "is a list of all those who have died in this village, in Endstone And this," she adds, pointing to another part of the stone, "is a list of people who have gone on to the Otherlands This is the juh here on their way to the Otherlands--no inally--has their name carved here"

I stand there for anotherat the na to find so to believe he’s there, but then I look back and it hasn’t disappeared

Matthew Markhaerly, touching the name

"Not well," she says "He was froe" She looks at me with interest "Do you know hi "He lived in the Borough His parents sent hiht to ask about this sooner; I can’t wait to tell Ky that his cousin was here once, that he ht be alive somewhere, even if it’s in a place from which people do not come back

"A lot of those who vanished went on to the Otherlands," she says "Some of them--and I can’t remember if Mattheas this way--felt that, if their parents didn’t want theet even farther away than their fae" Then she puts her hand on his nah?"

"Yes," I say "It’s his real na, then," she says "Many of theed their last names He didn’t That means he didn’t want to erase the trail completely if someone wanted to look for him eventually"

"They had no ships," I say "So they would have had to walk all the way to the Otherlands"

She nods "That’s why they don’t co Without ships, it takes years" Then she points to the bottoh space for the rest of our nao"

"I understand," I say The stakes are high, alle one of us

When I get to the infirmary, I tell Ky all about the stone "It’s proof that Anna’s right, that he didn’t die in Oria," I say, "unless there’s another Matthew Markha and breathe out "I think it’s him I feel it"

I try to remember Matthew Dark-haired, older than h like Ky that you could tell they were cousins, but different Mattheasn’t as quiet as Ky; he had a louder laugh, a bigger presence in the Borough But he was kind, like Ky

"Ky," I say, "e find the cure, I’ll take you to see the stone And then we can go back and tell Patrick and Aida"

I’ht Eli to see rown, but he still lets ain, pulled close and tight "You made it," I say He smells like the outdoors, a scent of pine and dirt, and I alad he’s well that tears streah I smile

"Yes," Eli says

"I lived in your city," I say "In Central I thought of you all the ti on the streets where you lived, and I saw the lake"

"I miss it sometimes," Eli says He ss "But it’s better here"

"Yes," I say "It is"

When Eli pulls away, I look over at Hunter He still wears blue s up and down his arms, and his eyes are very tired

"I want to see Ky," Eli says

"And you’re sure Eli’s immune?" I ask Anna

She nods "He doesn’t have the mark," she says, "but none of us do"