Today was supposed to be her tour.

And she got it, sort of. He let her sleep in – apologizing when he finally got around to her, saying how he was basically appointed leader. He'd gotten her breakfast, and reintroduced her to "Savvy", the tiny, exuberant cook who kissed her hand and winked at her before pulling her up, and she stared at just how downright small Saph was, a little surprised. She'd met her yesterday, to an extremely intense introduction.

"Yes, yes, I'm a fun-sized human with a large than life personality. Get used to it, stringbean. You're not the first to stare in amazement." She preened a little, posing, until she actually laughed. "But speaking of which, she's tiny, Newt." The words were accusing, as if she were blaming him. Hands on hips, the small girl faced him, fierceness printed across her features. "This princess-lookin' shank seems like a big wind'll brush her over."

"Sorry," he laughed, or tried to, but the sound was hollow. "'Suppose you're so small my scale's been messed up. Can't seem to figure out what's right and what isn't, anymore."

"And you're so shuckin' big. Alrighty, hun, I'm gonna take good care of you, hear that? Fatten you up a bit. Too pretty to be around these parts." The anger disappeared so immediately that she wasn't sure if it had even been real. Had they been kidding?

"Good that, ma'am." Newt's response was playful, but something about him hadn't seemed there. When someone had shouted his name, he'd left, apologizing, and Saph's smile had been strained too.

"Is he okay?" she asked, hesitating, wondering if she'd somehow alienated the only acquaintance she'd made, besides the nurses who'd fussed over her as though she were a newborn baby. Newt had bolted, taken off as someone called his name, and she never expected someone with such a profound injury to move so quickly.

"He's just worried." Saph said faintly, the words so quiet that she struggled to hear. She looked as though she longed to join the bustle, too, but seemed to be waiting for something, body tensed.

"About what?"

"Some of the Runners aren't back yet," she said casually. "Now!" Clapping her hands, Saph turned and began heaving an enormous cauldron, waving away her offer of help. "Let's get some food in ya. What's yer name again, there, dollface?"

"Teresa."

x

Moodily, Thomas stared at the screen before him. Slowly, the number of scientists had dwindled over the years. Mostly the Flare had gotten to them. Some had been dubbed traitors. He did not want to think about what happened to those people.

He couldn't watch every second. Indeed, they usually observed mutedly, observing less the actual people and moreso their brain waves. Any time they needed to check in, they could via Beetle Blade. They knew the subjects less well than they should've. Less than they used to. Pain changed people.

Turning on the volume, and switching the screen so that it focused more on the Beetle Blade cameras than the brain function of the living 'Munies, he watched Teresa. He missed her already. Hardly anything had been explained to him before she'd disappeared, up the short elevator ride to the Glade just a few floors above them.

"The Swipe they inserted in me will be biodegradable," she informed him, her eyes searching him for something, though he never knew what with her. "So as soon as my body's absorbed it, I'll get my full memory back. And you can still talk to me, but maybe it's better if you don't for the first while. The point is to not raise suspicion."

He wanted to know how Aris and Rachel were going about this, the false liberation of the people he'd once called friends. But Teresa was right; she always was. As much as it hurt, this was about the lives of the many over the fate of the few. Teresa would die for this cause; it was his job to make sure she didn't. He did not ask, he only obeyed. When he asked questions, it only hurt people.

x

After he'd left her yesterday and come to her today so apologetically, she wondered what had happened. Still though, he seemed absorbed in something else, his attention elsewhere.

"Are you okay?" she asked him, when he'd accidentally taken her to the gravesite three times, which was something so morbid she didn't even want to analyze.

Blinking at her question, as though he'd just remembered her presence, he gave her a sheepish smile, patting a large and heavy hand on her shoulder. Teresa wasn't small, but she felt as though a clip from that hand could near kill her. It reminded her of the rule she'd learned from him last night: Do not harm another Glader. "I'll be fine. Just a bit of worrying about Hedy."

"What happened to her?" Teresa tried to remember who that was. One of the Runners Saph had mentioned, maybe.

"Got a concussion in the Maze, yesterday." Newt said it tightly.

The girl who'd been carried back from the Maze. She'd been unconscious for that scenario, but when she woke up, she was dragged to a Gathering where they used words she did not recognize to discuss a situation she did not understand. Despite her lack of memory - something everyone took in stride - she felt as though perhaps she were used to being the smart one, the one who knew what was going on. Or perhaps it was simply vanity.

Today, all day, Newt had been relaxed, at least on the surface, letting her follow him around to satiate her curiosity, but still had been strangely diffident, despite the friendly way everyone treated him. It had her wondering if she were missing something. She'd belatedly realized that all of yesterday his face had been pinched with worry. She'd had no comparison expression, so she'd been unable to realize the heaviness on his shoulders, but the pure, unadulterated despair that had overtaken his entire body, slumping his shoulders forward, drooping his face, was obvious in retrospect.

"C'mon, hang out here for a while until Savvy comes to get you. She'll take good care of you. A bloody sight more cheerful than I am," he said tiredly. "You don't even have to pull weeds. Just stay here and on your best behavior." Newt sounded exhausted by the day's events, and she winced at his slow gait towards the Gardens, noting the difference between his lagging now and the sprinting he'd done just the day before. His long hair swung, in desperate need of a cut, but he simply tied it back, unbothered by the length.

He was much taller than she, more than half a foot and then some, and broad. There was tension in his shoulders, but he worked anyway, reaching for tall things that even Tim, the 'Keeper' couldn't quite grab. And he'd proved himself to be quite tolerant, dealing with her all day when clearly he had other issues on his mind. Feeling guilty just watching Newt, Teresa began to pull weeds too, though he'd told her just to stay put. Perhaps she should've been insulted, but his pain was too visceral, and she sympathized. Her mind wandered though, and soon, as her hands pulled at the wicked little plants Newt had showed her, she watched two of the only people she knew together, outside the Homestead. Really, she was only trying to understand the swing of life in the Glade, to observe, but she realized that Hedy must've just left the infirmary, with the now eternally infamous Minho following her out, saying something to her back. Turning, almost slamming into him, Hedy looked up and said something to him that made him step back for a moment.

She stared in shock at the distant pair as they bickered longer, weeds long forgotten, Minho stepping aggressively closer to her, his words obviously loud but unintelligible, and Hedy crossing her arms and scowling at him, holding a hand against his chest to keep him from stepping closer, not quite towering over her, but trying to. He was clearly trying to intimidate her, but Hedy wouldn't have it. She couldn't see her face, obscured by Minho's raised arm, but she felt a wash of concern for the girl she hadn't even met yet. Nobody else seemed to notice, even those walking next to them or working nearby, but that only added to Teresa's anxiety.

"Is she okay?" Teresa asked, suddenly nervous for her, remembering Minho's ferociousness during the meeting they'd held, the icy expression on his face. "That fight seems kind of vicious. Doesn't that girl have a concussion."

Newt looked up from the vine he was detangling, only to see Minho and Hedy arguing. "What? Minho and Hedy? They're always going at it. I don't think Hedy has ever raised her voice at anyone in the Glade except him." He chuckled, a real sound of relief and amusement. "Don't worry about her. She can hold her own against him. I'd be more worried about him if I were you. 'Specially with a bloody injury. Clint and Jeff'll be ready to tackle him if he shouts again."

Minho pointed at the Maze walls and yelled something, and she put her hand on his forearm, shaking her head slightly, carefully, as if her head were held up by a thread. He yelled again and she placed her palm in front of his face. Teresa flinched when Minho threw her arm down, still speaking rapidly. "Are you sure?" she felt the discomfort in her stomach – she hardly knew either of them, but all she could see was the muscular boy yelling at the girl she knew had been injured the day before.

"Listen," Newt's voice was flat and he stood to his full height and stretched, reaching for a basket a few feet away. "I'm sure you've got Minho pegged to a T just by looking at him, but he'd never hurt Hedy," Newt didn't even bother to look up, brows knitted as he gathered the tossed-aside weeds into the basket. "The abso-bloody-lutely least of the reasons being that she's his Leader," The second part was said more to himself, but Teresa absorbed that statement.

Stumped, Teresa blinked. "I thought you were the Head of the Gladers?" He was the one who'd welcomed her, who had shown her around, who seemed to be a well-respected member of the community. Hadn't he called himself temporary Leader?"

Looking startled, Newt glanced up from his work and began to laugh at Teresa's astonished face. The noise seemed to have brought Minho and Hedy back to reality, because he suddenly put his hand on her shoulder, seeming calmer. "Me? King of the bloody shucks, that's for sure. I'm second in command. Hedy's been the buggin' Leader for well over two years now. Don't let that pretty face fool you. She's got an iron bloody fist." He chuckled again, shaking his head. "Minho and Zora are the only ones who talk to her like she's human instead of part Griever, and she likes that, even if she pretends like she can't stand Minho."

"She's scary looking." Teresa admitted, studying her set brow and frown. "But I thought she was…" Just an injured Runner. Nobody had ever said anything that would imply she was anything else. The worry that had come – when the Walls had shut, Teresa figured it out pretty quick that being stuck out there wasn't a good thing. She simply assumed they were worrying about their friends.

Newt howled and when he finished, continued to look amused at Teresa's flush. He said, conspiratorially: "Hedy was a First."

"What?" Teresa could understand the implication of what that meant, but she wanted clarification. His voice conveyed some sort of important meaning when he said it, and it was a little lost on her.

Newt gave a long suffering sigh. "You sure do ask a lot of bloody questions, greenie, but after a first day like yours, you've earned it. Nearly three years ago, Hedy, Minho, Savvy and I were part of the first buggin' shipment. First greenies. Sent us up with two others. We didn't have the same pattern set yet. No once a month greenies, no nothing. All we knew were our names and that we were stuck here."

Teresa looked at him, fascinated. Newt continued, only for the sake of his enraptured audience. "'Bout two years or more ago, we got it in our shuck heads to climb down after the Box. Nick, being the Leader then, offered to do it. Hedy was against it, same as me and a few others, but he was adamant. Those bones in the Deadheads? Nick's. Hedy was his second in command then and took over."

The younger girl was silent, absorbing that information for a moment. "Why does she let Minho yell at her like that?" Her tone made his distaste obvious.

"Minho is Minho," Newt struggled to find the words to explain the relationship the four had with one another, not even pretending to pull weeds any longer. "They – we – have been friends for a long time. Longer than you remember even existing, we've been together." Teresa suddenly realized just how long a time three years was. She couldn't remember two days ago. "He just has a… rather insistent need to rile her up every time they talk." Newt was quiet for a moment, eyes suddenly misty and faraway. "I don't know how to make you understand. People die in the Maze, 'Resa. He'll never say it to anyone, except maybe Savvy, but Minho was scared bloody witless when she got hurt. A concussion is nothing in there, though, compared to what it could've been. Not only is Hedy the Leader of all these shanks, she's our friend. You saw him. An abrasive slinthead, they both are. Not many Gladers can deal with Minho, though, not the way she does, and he knows it. Not exactly a sweet, friendly guy, that one, but she's not quite a ball of sunshine herself."

"She's kind of intimidating," Teresa said, noting that even though Minho's demeanor had changed suddenly, Hedy had only become a little less stiff. "Is she always like that?"

Newt didn't answer, but he was saved from Teresa's pestering when suddenly a small figure began to dance around them, spinning in circles.

"Greetings, Greenie. How goes it?" She squatted down next to Teresa, wiggling her brows and shoving her shoulders against her. "Klunk your pants yet today? If you're gonna, better do it here. Tim over there sure could use the fertilizer."

Relieved, Newt left Teresa to "Savvy's" extremely capable care. She'd always been the best with the greenies. With everyone in distress, really. And he wanted to go give Minho a piece of his mind, and then berate Hedy back into bed, since Clint and Jeff clearly hadn't been capable.

"Come on, let's get you some real food and some good company."

"Don't be fillin' her head with stories!" Newt warned, trying to not even bothering to hide his amusement.

"I won't." She promised Newt, before turning to Teresa, loudly asking: "Now, did I tell you about the time me and Minho raced on the back of Grievers in order to save Hedy from the dastardly clutches of the giant Newt? Well, I know giant is a stretch, but try to imagine yourself from my point of view."

She grinned at her own joke, and Teresa began imagining Newt, who was more than a handful of inches over six foot, standing next to Saph, who didn't quite reach the five foot marker, did seem like a huge difference. Teresa chuckled at that image. Anyone over five-three must seem gigantic to her.

"Come back into my Kitchen." She led the way and held the door open dramatically, slamming it against the frame.

"Saph! Stop shucking doing that!" One girl groaned. "You scare the klunk outta me every time."

"I like my entrances to be dramatic. Zora, have you met Teresa yet? We need to fatten her up. She's a little shaky. There was a hurricane while we were out."

Another girl grinned, munching on an apple, spraying bits everywhere as she spoke. "Ooh, did she see her first battle between the Royal Family?"

"Traumatized, I tell you." Saph pulled her to sit next to the girl. "Laverne, play nice. She's off color and everything. Check her pulse. I'll handle CPR." Funny that Teresa could imagine the motions of CPR directly, but no memories associated with it could fly in on its tails. But she felt strange, interrupting the banter with her frightened questions, as if she weren't supposed to be afraid, as if everything was okay, memory loss included. Newt's statements had alluded to a bigger picture, and she was still trying to piece together everything. The Maze... three years in here, the Glade... what else was there?

Bumping her on the shoulder, Laverne winked at her, her eyes so dark they were nearly black. "Nice to meet you. I promise I'll protect you from the big bad scary monsters."

"She's not talking about the Grievers, neither." Saph cackled. "Now, honey, you want a sandwich? Some soup? Some fruit? I could mix up some cookies, too, get some sugar in your system. Won't take but a few minutes."

Teresa was at a loss. "Are the monsters supposed to be Minho and Hedy?"

Saph was turned around, digging around for her favorite cutting board, but Zora smirked at him. "Catch on quick, Greenie? Laverne's Minho's Lieutenant. Got a direct line to the big man. Lucky her, since there definitely is a line."

Saph cackled again, her voice echoing in the large room.

"That is one fine piece of man." Zora shook her head in false admiration.

"Eww," Laverne nearly dropped all of the food from her mouth. "That's my Keeper you're talking about, you nasty shankette."

"Don't I wish he was my keeper." Zora waggled her eyebrows just as Saph just had, and even Teresa had to bite back a laugh. These girls had a way of making her feel at ease.

"Hmph. You can have him." Saph's small head poked up from across the table. "I'm still waiting for Gorgeous to realize we're meant to be. Now, Teresa, honey, I'm gonna do you up a nice salad, lots of veggies, some crunch, and you're gonna eat up the whole thing, okay?"

She only nodded tentatively. The girls continued to chatter, Laverne starting off the conversation: "So did y'all see Meg earlier? She and Rosie were getting ready to retire Peggy."

"I'm gonna be the one dealin' with the bits and pieces, too." Saph scowled. "I hate diggin' my hand elbow deep in pig klunk. Especially klunk that had a name."

"Don't complain," Zora moved to stir an enormous pot behind Saph. "Rosie does more than her share of klunk-cleaning."

"True that," Saph nodded. "Another gorgeous creature, that Rosie. Where I'd be without her, I don't know. Meg, too."

"This is where she goes on a spiel about how she's in love with every girl in the Glade." Laverne jostled Teresa again, grinning. And she was right. Saph then launched into a rant about the wonderful characteristics of every girl in the Glade. And Teresa soon found herself learning their names, paying particular interest to her lecture about Hedy.

"And that girl is a saint in a supermodel's body." Saph shouted, banging her knife on a cutting board dramatically. Teresa was surprised that the two concepts came easily to her. She understood what the words meant, could even imagine pictures. But no names to go with the ideas, no histories, no names or stories behind how she remembered them. "Never done anything for herself. Puts the Gladers first, always. Nick was a good leader, but Hedy, that girl is a Leader with a capital L. I think I'm falling in love with her again. Smart, sassy, and her trust is hard to earn, but I'll be shucked if it isn't the best feeling in the world. I'm getting emotional." The onion she was cutting brought tears to her eyes, and Zora giggled. Teresa only observed, fascinated by the extroverted girl. "That shank is the best of the best." Slamming her knife down with finality, and finishing the salad, she served it to Teresa, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Of course, my love for her can't even be compared to how I feel about this beautiful, athletic woman sitting right next to you." She winked at Laverne and handed Teresa a fork.

It was a beautiful salad, too. She was surprised. Somehow, in this place, she'd expected wilted lettuce and not much else. But this was a work of art. A deep green bed of spinach cradled circular rows of tiny chopped tomatoes, tiny pieces of onion and carrot and beet, multicolored pieces of pepper, with bits of apple and mushroom, minced into tiny pieces. Then she'd sliced lemons and oranges. Taking a bite, with all the girls watching, Teresa was surprised that it seemed – to her limited memory – like the best thing she'd ever tasted. The juicy fruits made the spinach easy to chew and swallow, and the flavors blended together well, nothing too tart or too sweet or too ripe, lots of herbs and seasoning to bring out their flavors. It didn't need any other garnishments, and she found herself scarfing it down eagerly.

"Damn, shank." Laverne said appreciatively. "She threw it down. I like a girl who can eat."

"The greenie appreciates good cooking!"

"That's not cooking, that's a salad." Zora rolled her eyes.

"Don't speak to your Keeper with such disrespect!" Saph shouted, waving a knife in the air threateningly.

Teresa blinked, stunned again. "You're a Keeper?"

"Oh, I forgot. You haven't been through the rounds yet, with that whole bit with Hedy. Yep. So before we launch into lecture, what do you already know?"

"I know that Hedy's Leader, that Newt is second in command, and that Minho yells at her because he's Keeper of the Runners. I thought Keeper meant-"

Laverne and Zora were howling with laughter, the former literally falling out of her chair, clutching her stomach. "Someone… get a Med-Jack. I think I'm dying."

"Newt is the sweetest, friendliest shank you'll ever meet, but never rely on those slinthead boys for vital information." Laverne said dryly. "He thinks he's the most helpful one in this damn place too, doesn't he?"

"Keepers are in charge of their spots." Saph explained "I'm Keeper of the Kitchen. Zora works with me, and so did Laverne, before she was a Runner. Tim, you met him over in the Gardens, he's Keeper there. Meg and Rosie are the Keepers of the Animals and of the Sloppers. So Meg takes care of the farm, Rosie's in charge of Keeping this place clean and running. Gally's the Keeper of the Builders. Clint's Keeper of the Med-Jacks. When klunk hits the wall, Hedy and Newt have a Gathering, where we speak for our spots."

Teresa tried to keep it straight in her head, but there were so many names. "So what about the people who aren't Keepers?"

"Your first days, you get moved from spot to spot, to see where you fit. Tim and Rosie and Meg take the most newbies. Me and Gally are choosier, 'n Clint refuses to take anyone else on. I don't need much help here. It's a waste of time. Having too many people in the kitchen is more hindrance than help, see? And I like this place to be somewhere Gladers can come for a break. Me and Zora are enough. Except for you, Princess." She winked at Laverne. "Laverne is the whole package, cooks and Runs."

Teresa turned to her. "So you were a cook, but now you're a Runner?"

Nodding, Laverne tossed her core at Zora, who caught it. "I was placed as a cook, since I was best at it and this one," she elbowed Saph, who grinned manically. "Liked me. But after two months, I asked her to ask Minho if I could try out as a Runner. He could always use more…" she quieted. "But the Maze is dangerous. They call a Gathering, where they decide if you're good enough, but Minho and Hedy have the last word. Then you try out for a week. If Minho says you're good, you're a Runner."

The information felt heavy, a lot to take in. "So Minho decides?"

"Don't forget Gorgeous." Saph clucked at her. "Do you know what you're doing? You're underestimating her. She's a girl, she's cute, she hangs around with shucks like Minho and Newt, who seem like big dopes, am I right? Don't do that. Last slinthead who shucked around with Hedy got Banished."

Eyes widening, Teresa turned around. "What do you mean banished?"

"Just what it sounds like, klunkhead." Zora rolled her eyes at her. "You get kicked out of the Glade. Sent into the Maze. Nobody's ever survived."

"How many people have been Banished?"

"Only two. But they both broke the most important rules." For once, Saph seemed utterly solemn. "Listen, Greenie." She called her not by name, but by position, and Teresa felt that it added to her seriousness. "Girl named Gloria went into the Maze. She wasn't a Runner. She wanted to explore, brought someone else into her nonsense, she did stuff she shouldnt've. She was violent. If you aren't a Runner, you don't go past those doors. Not if they've just opened, not if they're about to close. She got people hurt by behavin' so badly. She was Banished for it. Stan…" she trailed off, and she saw Laverne shiver.

"What a total creep." Zora's words were laced with disgust. "I hear his name and I wanna puke."

"What did he do?" From the sounds of it, the boy had done something inexcusable.

"Harassed Hedy. 'Verne, too, some others." Saph's voice was venomous. "Totally jacked. For the first few days, he followed Hedy around. Newt let Hedy take the lead on that one, since she felt bad for him. Greenie so scared that he klunked his pants when she opened the Box. But he kept getting closer to her, 'n when the Keepers decided that it was a no go for his attitude, he got so mad he decked her."

Teresa, already awed to the idea of the striking the indomitable Leader, couldn't imagine anyone hitting her. Even a half hour ago, when she'd worried that Minho was being too aggressive, she couldn't imagine anyone hitting her. There was something intense about her, a respect that was commanded.

"Can you imagine?" Zora sounded disgusted. "He was a big shank, too. Almost as jumbo-sized as Newt. Right in the head, he hit her. The Leader, a girl half a foot shorter than him, for asking for personal space." Zora clicked her teeth. "I thought Minho was gonna rip him apart for sure." The final bit was added with a little bit of awe. Teresa filed that bit of information away.

Shaking her head, she offered Teresa a bite of the soup she was making. Despite feeling full, she let her guide the spoon into her mouth, not too hot, and completely delicious.

"We weren't kidding, earlier." Zora added. "Minho and Hedy… don't let them fool you. Better to piss off a Griever than to mess with one of them in front of the other. Only duo that's a match for them is these two lovers over here."

Laverne's face was suddenly blank, except for the sudden trace of moisture in her eyes. "Friendships made in the Maze… they're different. It's a different feel. Here, we all work together. Out there… you're literally putting your life into your partner's hands. It's a kind of unrivaled trust."

"Ben'll make it through," Saph said kindly, placing a hand on top of the other girl's, and Teresa realized that Ben was the Runner who'd been stung. He also realized that, right now, she wasn't even there to Laverne. None of them were. Right then, she was in the Maze, with the boy named Ben whom she'd never met.

"Have you ever Run?" she asked Saph. "Since you're a Keeper."

"Hedy would have a fit if she even tried." Zora snorted. "Treats Saph like a baby bird."

"Have you heard a word we've been yappin'? Do you think these li'l chicken legs could carry me through that klunk?" Saph stared at her in mock disbelief. "Newt's legs are twice as long as mine 'n he still got all jacked up out there."

"That's why he has a limp? The Maze?"

Laverne looked up at her solemnly. "He doesn't really talk about it. But he got his leg jacked up. Last year, it was healed all wrong, gave him so many problems, that Gally had to break it again so Clint could reset it. He couldn't walk for weeks. Drove him crazy. Gally made up some crutches, but when you have limited tools..."

"Nobody really knows what happened," Saph admitted. "Hedy's the one who found him. She carried him back, half dead. Scariest moment of my life. Can't imagine how she felt. Can't imagine how she did it, either, carryin' a man of his size

Stealing a glance at Laverne, she noted she wasn't quite impassive – just stony.

"C'mon now, gather the shanks for dinner." Saph said suddenly. "We didn't have your party last night, Teresa, so tonight's your night. A welcoming-in party, as it were. Get yourself ready.

x

Minho picked Saph up, swinging her over his shoulders like a little girl. "Who wants to play!" he bellowed, while the Keeper of the Kitchen shrieked with laughter, legs kicking wildly in the air.

"The challenger has arrived!" Laverne hoisted another small girl, who Teresa didn't recognize. They began to wrestle, and she watched, fascinated, when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Looking up, Teresa saw the girl – the Leader – looking composed and serious, with a bandage wrapped around her head, contrasting with her dark hair. "Hey, there, Greenie. Would you wanna come for a walk with me, just for a minute?"

A little surprised at the odd invitation, Teresa agreed, following Hedy out of the fire-lit common area, closer to the walls, where it was dark and insects hummed.

"How're your first few days treating you?" The question was extremely considerate, the tone even, open for a long answer, and Teresa was a little surprised. She wasn't sure what she had expected from the taller girl, based on everyone else's comments.

"It's a little strange," she admitted, and Hedy nodded understandingly, in a strangely adult manner that seemed in a contrast to the scene she'd just observed by the fire. "But Saph and Newt have been wonderful." Teresa added hastily, wondering if that was what this was about.

At that, a small smile quirked up at the left side of the girl's mouth. "Good that. They're always reliable. I'm sorry I wasn't able to greet you myself. It's been a busy few days. Busier than most, I promise."

Teresa could immediately tell the girl was invested in the Glade's formalities – dissimilarly to Newt, who seemed so exhausted that he could hardly remember her name. "It's okay. Newt told me you got hurt… out there."

It was a leading comment, and both of them knew it. Hedy touched the bandage on her head, softly. "I don't usually go out there that often. You'd have to be a slinthead to be a Runner. Only the best of the best go out there, and only the best of them make it back home safe every night."

"Isn't Minho the Keeper of the Runners?" Teresa asked curiously.

Instead of saying something else cryptic, Hedy almost smiled, a genuinely fond wrinkle around her eyes that softened the hard edges around her eyes. "Whoever said Minho wasn't a slinthead is a shuck themselves. Biggest idiot in the Glade." But there was no denying it, the loving way his name rolled out of her mouth. "But he found a dead Griever, and we went to investigate."

"Griever?"

Hedy nodded. "So you weren't told. Better that I tell you. A Griever…" she bit her lip, trying to express the concept properly. "We're not fully sure what it is. Some kind of cyborg creature, for sure. Part robot, part skin. They roam the Maze at night, after the Gates close. Sometimes they'll shriek, and you can hear it. That's why you can't go into the Maze. Several people have been stung and others have been killed. We've only spotted very few during the day. Most people who get full-fledged looks end up dead or stung."

"Like who?"

Hedy's eyes shuttered, turning dark. "Anyway, Greenie, I just wanted to check up on you. Suppose this is a bit of a tour. This is the gravesite, and I figure even without a tour you're getting your bearings already. You look like a smart girl."

"Yeah. Saph's been nice..." Teresa trailed off weakly, feeling strangely pathetic next to this girl. She disliked the feeling.

"Good that. Saph takes good care of everyone here, in more ways than one." The words were filled with an implicit trust, and Teresa realized there was a sort of power that belonged to her. Saph was a touchstone of the small community here, and she was perhaps one of Hedy's only true friends. Certainly, it had to be difficult to make friends when you were busy leading people. Particularly when one had such an air of coldness, and the environment was so strangely off-kilter. "Tomorrow you'll begin to be tested for a good job, and I'll be checking up on you, to check if you're doing well."

The sternness of her speech had Teresa wondering how she spoke to Newt, or to Saph, or even to Minho. She wasn't particularly friendly or charming nor did she seem to have any sort of desirable qualities as far as Teresa could tell. Except that she was kind, in a gruff way. "Okay." Teresa wanted to go back to the circle of people now. Hedy, regardless of whether she was a good leader or not, was grumpy, secretive, and difficult to speak to. Teresa found she vastly preferred Saph and Newt to this stiff girl.

"I didn't mean to take you from your own party." Hedy's voice was apologetic, as if she sensed Teresa's thoughts. "We can go back. I like to take Greenies out here for a good cry, if they need it. You're the toughest I've met yet."

Teresa took her compliment gratefully and they headed back. By the time they'd gotten back, it was a new group of people playing entirely, and she searched for Saph or Laverne or Zora or Newt. Hedy had disappeared around the fire, and Teresa had searched around until she found Newt, speaking animatedly with the same dark-haired boy who'd brought Hedy back in from the Maze.

"Ah, the elusive Greenie." Minho winked at her playfully, and Newt smiled, looking more relaxed than she'd ever seen him.

"Enjoying the party?"

"I was with Hedy."

"So, no." Minho joked.

"Did you see where she went?" Newt asked. Teresa shrugged and pointed towards the Homestead, and he sighed. "I'll see you later." He loped away, leaving her alone with Minho.

He wasn't so scary up close, really, and was handsome in a devastating way, with strong features and broad muscles. She stared at him and he winked. "Checking out the goods, Greenie? I have to warn you, my heart was stolen by our glorious leader."

His sense of humor was so similar to Saph's that she smiled – not because she thought it was funny, but because she suddenly realized that the two of them together would be overwhelming. "That's a couples dynamic I'd like to see."

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind seeing it either," he replied sarcastically, grinning. "Want some?" The jar he offered was full of liquid that looked like piss.

Suspiciously, she eyed it. "What even is that?"

"Something that tastes like piss that Gally makes. Gets you drunk."

Teresa could vaguely remember alcohol, but not if she'd tried it, or if she'd liked it. Just the chemical reactions. Gingerly, she took it and sniffed it, before dry heaving at the smell. "Holy…"

"Pretty foul, right? Kind of like Gally." He was teasing, and though she didn't know off the top of her head who that was, she smiled and drank some.

Even the tiny sip she took nearly had her puking. "Ugh!"

He laughed outright at that. "I'll tell him you said that."

"Where is he?" Teresa asked, too shy to ask 'Who the hell is he'.

Crouching a little to see at her level, he pointed. "Between the fire and the Med-Jack hut, sitting down next to the shank in the green shirt. Black hair, see? Messed up nose?"

She saw him, watching the wrestling that had devolved into some of the guys wrestling.

"Who is that?" she pointed at a girl who shoved down a guy. "Isn't this breaking the rules?"

Shrugging carelessly, he replied: "Hedy doesn't like it, but everyone else does, so she lets it slide. Anyway, it's not really violent, just blowing off some steam. It gets tight in here, sometimes. Especially for shucks like Gally. And that's Rosie, Keeper of the Sloppers. Any mess, any mistake, she handles it." There was respect in his tone, so opposite from the usual reference to Sloppers.

"I thought Slopping was…" she hesitated.

Grinning, he supplied: "Cleaning up cow klunk? Basically, but Rosie's an old friend. Tough shank, stays quiet, does what she has to do, and she's beaten Gally at a few of these. I'd ask her to be a Runner, but she's a Keeper. It'd be a whole pain in the ass."

"I see," Teresa said, and she was really starting to.