Overhead the happy blue sky had dissolved into the inky twilight shadows. I smelled our destination before I saw it. The closer we got, the more the putrid cloud of rot and decay coated the nose and mouth. I covered my face with my elbow. "Christ, what is that smell?" I demanded through the crook of my elbow.By this point, we'd come over a rise and could see the source of the stench. Spread out before us were dozens of mounds of garbage that seemed to stretch for miles. A large fence surrounded the place, but it was pocked with holes and fallen sections, like the people who created the landfill had even given up on it. Icarus motioned ahead in a wide, sweeping gesture. "Welcome to the Book Mountain.""Book Mountain?" I said. "More like Trash Mountain."Icarus's eyebrows twitched with annoyance. "Under all that trash is one man's greatest treasure.""Saga?" I said, repeating the name they'd mentioned."Only rebels get to call him by that name," Dare said. "You will call him 'The Scribe.'""Do you even know what a book is?" Icarus said, his tone insulting.I frowned at him.
