Resist (The Harvest Saga Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

my fingertips found purchase on the bark of a strong limb. I pulled myself up and then eased carefully from branch to branch until I was as high as I felt comfortable going. Steadying my feet, I looked down, nodding to the guard, who handed me long-handled pruning shears. I went straight to work. If they wanted to ruin the trees and any chance of harvesting fruit by pruning off-season, then fine.
    The freezing temperatures were the only thing that abated my sweat. The wind burned my cheeks and lips. The tips of my fingers turned red and numbness set in. By noon, I was shivering so hard my teeth were chattering.
    Climbing out of a tree, I dropped to the ground. Pins and needles shot through my feet. “Where’s your coat, Lesser?” Crap. It was Ardis, the jerk guard from the trail. I looked at my boots before answering.
    “I don’t know.”
    “You don’t know. You should keep track of your things.”
    “When I came back, you guards had taken over my house. My coat had been in it. So I have no idea where it is now. It was you who didn’t keep track of my things.”
    His polished black boots stepped up to mine. Toe to toe. Again. He did not understand the concept of personal space. At all. “We’re in your cabin?”
    “Yes.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    I gritted my teeth. “Yes, sir.”
    “That’s perfect. It burns you up, doesn’t it, Lesser.”
    “I don’t like it.”
    “You don’t like what? Look at me.”
    I raised my eyes to his. “I don’t like you in my house.”
    “Greaters allowed your village to build the house, so shouldn’t we be given use of it when we need it?”
    “No.”
    “Why is that?” He cocked his head to the side, studying me.
    “Lesser hands built it. We cut the timbers, mortared the cracks, and hammered the nails. These were built with the strength of our backs and the sweat off our brows. It’s not yours. It’s ours. This entire village is ours. These orchards are ours.”
    His breath came out in visible puffs of smoke that filtered right into my face. “And why would you think the orchards are yours?”
    He was daring me. “We plowed the land, fertilize it, grow the trees, prune them then harvest their fruit. This is Lesser land. These are the fruits of OUR labors. Greaters...you do nothing.”
    “You’ve been given a gift from someone very high up. I’m not supposed to... Never mind. But listen to me, Lesser bitch. If you ever say anything like that again, to anyone, I will see to it that you disappear.” He snapped his finger near my eye. “Like that.”
    Oh, darn. I was beginning to think he didn’t like me.
     

     
    My mother and father watched as the tailor adjusted the suit jacket. The man tugged and pulled one sleeve down and then the other before worrying about the lapel. “You will be such a lovely groom, Crew,” Mother cooed.
    She swiped a tear from her eyes. It was probably as fake as her eyelashes, or my parents’ marriage.
    “Of course he will be handsome. Nothing but the best for the future King of Olympus.” My father was forever reminding me of my duty.
    Marian was across town, being fitted for her dress today. I imagined Mother had it designed to catch the attention of the entire city. Subtlety was lost on my mother. Bigger was better, and the more outrageous, the better. It would garner more attention.
    After dinner last night, Marian and I strolled through the streets and then changed into dark clothing in an alleyway before making our way to Laney in the Lesser section. Gretchen met us there as well.
    The underground resistance in Olympus was enormous and very well organized. I expected all of the Lessers to be involved, and they were. What I had not expected was how many Greaters had joined the cause. It was not as if the supporters of the resistance met on Tuesdays at sundown. We were organized into small teams. Each team was led by a member of the resistance council.
    Gretchen was our leader. Though our group was one of the smallest, she preferred