Scar

by Alice Broadway

  For Dave. My love.

  Contents

  Cover

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  My chin hits gravel; teeth on tongue.

  The foot on my back is Jack Minnow’s. He presses harder, enjoying the sight of a new believer forced to worship. I spit blood and dust from my lips and Mayor Longsight’s bare foot is sprayed red. He leans down and whispers.

  “Welcome home, Leora. I have so much to tell you.”

  I spit again, this time aiming right for him.

  The crowd – a respectful distance away from their leader – only see me bow. And they roar their approval – not joy at my return, but jubilation at Mayor Longsight standing above me, above them, ruling over his people. A man, made divinity.

  I thought we were safe, I thought everything was new. I thought that Longsight was dead.

  Jack Minnow’s strong hands drag me to my feet, grasp my hair and hold my head rigid. He turns me to face the townspeople, who hush enough to listen. I stare out at the crowd, at the people I thought were my friends. People I grew up with. My eyes searching for Gull. I can’t see her.

  “Here is your traitor.” Longsight’s voice is triumphant. “Here is the one who brought the enemy to our door and an assassin to our square.”

  A horrible growl rises from the gathered herd of people. The mayor waits for it to ease. “But, friends, what she intended for evil, I have used for good. She planned my destruction, and yet, I wrought my resurrection. There is a higher purpose, and even the wicked plans of a traitor cannot halt true destiny. Do not be worried or afraid. I have conquered.”

  I shake my head, regretting it immediately when I feel Minnow’s fingers tangle in my hair and the ache and sting of my injured mouth. Minnow releases my hair and grasps my arm, pulling me with him towards the dark doors of the government building.

  “Time for us to talk,” Mayor Longsight says as he follows us inside.

  Chapter Two

  Mayor Longsight’s study is not new to me. But this time, it feels different. The previous times he has always needed me, just a little. He needed me to go to Featherstone; I was the only one who would get away with being his spy. And he needed me again when he wanted to parade me as his puppet. Now I am afraid that he doesn’t need me at all.

  My stomach turns as the smells of the room swelter around me. Leather and sweat and unread books and polished wood. A metallic top note makes me think of weapons – of sharpened blades – but, when I wet my lips with my swollen tongue, I know it is just the smell of blood. I will get used to that.

  I stand there, legs quivering. Jack Minnow’s breath is on the back of my shoulder, but he doesn’t hold me or attempt to keep me restrained – I pose no threat, not any more. I could try to run, but they would stop me before I reached the door. Besides, I’m tired of running – it never seems to get me anywhere.

  There’s a feline satisfaction about Mayor Longsight. He has wrapped himself in a burgundy robe and lounges on his chair, one leg crossed over the other, his elbow on the armrest, propping his chin on his hand. His smile is wide and his eyes blink slowly – as though he knows a secret that is hidden from mere mortals. He is alive. It is impossible, unbelievable and yet…

  “Aren’t you going to ask me my secret?” He raises an eyebrow, head cocked to one side as he examines me. “I mean, aren’t you just a little bit impressed? It’s not every day that someone returns to life.”

  “I’m impressed by your gall.” I’m startled by how cool and steady my own voice sounds. I daren’t let him know how shocked I am – that I am finding it next to impossible to process all I am seeing. “I’m impressed that you would play a game like this on such a scale. But then, you do love to trick your people. You weren’t resurrected.” I summon a sour smile. “The only miracle here is that they believe you.”

  “And you don’t.” It’s not a question, and his face sinks into thoughtful disappointment. After a while, he stands and steps around the table towards me. I catch glimpses of his beautiful skin as the robe shifts. It seems as though he is almost alight: he gleams darkly, like an ember. I feel that if I touched him my skin would burn. “I’m sorry you doubt me.” He stands close – close enough for me to feel the warmth from his body. “But, look—” He shakes off the silken robe and stands with his arms spread wide, so I can see every scrap of ink, every outline of muscle. “You saw the blood. You watched the attack.”

  I try not to think about it, I tell my memory not to replay that moment, but it’s too late and I see him, stabbed and on the ground, pooling blood. I see the cloaked figure of Sana, triumphant. She killed him… Or at least, I thought—

  “You remember that morning, I can see it in your face. Look at me, Leora. Look at me now.”

  The scar is impossible to miss.

  A darker line in that tender space just below his ribs, a flash of pink too. Three fingers across. An angry, fierce wound. He should be dead. He was dead.

  “How?” My voice is barely a breath. I stretch out a hand.

  Longsight laughs, delighted.

  Minnow stands close behind me. “You do not touch him,” he warns.

  “Oh, come now, Jack,” Longsight says. “Let her touch – let her examine me. After all, it’s the only way she will believe; and you know how much I adore a new convert.” He looks at me, challenging me to say no – willing me to say yes.

  Before I know what I’m doing, my hand is on his warm skin. I kneel down to get a closer look, pressing close to the wound and looking up at Longsight to see if he will wince or turn away in pain, but he smiles down at me beatifically as though my interrogation is an act of worship.

  It’s only a scar, I tell myself. But this – this is the scar of a man who was slain.

  Chapter Three

  The fragile moment of my fingers on Mayor Longsight’s skin is broken when someone raps sharply on the door. Longsight pulls on his robe as though he had simply been showing me some new ink, and Minnow goes to answer, speaking quietly. I stand, rubbing my knees where the carpet has left its plush fuzz on my trousers. The door closes and Minnow, like a dog
, attacks, his hand at my throat, pinning me against the bookshelf.

  “You brought a blank into Saintstone? How dare you desecrate this town?”

  They have found Gull. Hot fear sweeps over me, fear that has nothing to do with Minnow. Gull will never survive the rage of Saintstone.

  “Enough, Jack,” Longsight says sharply and Jack Minnow stills, chest rising and falling, his hot breath on my face. His hand does not move. The mayor steps close, as though examining the spoils brought by his hunt.

  “A blank?” Longsight muses. “Oh, Leora, I thought you were clever. Bringing a blank here just announces yourself as our enemy.”

  I try to swallow but my throat is tight and sore against Minnow’s hand. I can’t speak to reply.

  “You have polluted our purity. And you have done your friend no favours. Did you think they would be tolerated here? Still…” He looks at me thoughtfully. “She must be kept safe, away from the townspeople. For now. I will speak with her.”

  Abruptly, Jack Minnow lets me go. I rub my throat. Mayor Longsight had me in his web already but now that he has Gull I am stuck fast. He chuckles and sits back down at his desk, barely concealing his delight as he watches my cheeks burn and my eyes spark with angry tears.

  What does he hope to gain from me? What more can he want? He already has the people’s devotion – they loved him before, but now that he has cheated death, they adore him. He has all the power and prestige that anyone could ever need and still it isn’t enough.

  His head is inclined as he considers my fate.

  “I have plans for you, Leora Flint. We were counting on your return – expecting you: you always do come back. And now that you’re here I can really begin… But patience is key. There is no rush.” His gaze is thoughtful. I swallow and glance at Minnow – he doesn’t speak. Mayor Longsight examines me coolly and eventually sighs. “You will be useful, extremely useful – in time. The question is, what to do with you for now?”

  He tips his head at Minnow. “Send a messenger for Mel – tell her to be ready at the lower doors.”

  Minnow goes out. “I want to see my mother,” I announce.

  Mayor Longsight laughs.

  “Nice try, Leora. Firstly, you don’t get to choose. And secondly, your mother won’t be coming. Even if we summoned her, she would refuse to see you.”

  Words, just words, I think. Words designed to hurt and scare me. “I don’t believe that,” I say calmly while my heart races and my knees shake.

  “You’re hardly popular in Saintstone, Leora. You are a traitor who brought blanks into our midst.”

  “She doesn’t believe that. She knows me.”

  “She knows terrible suffering because of you. She is despised and rejected because of you. A pariah in her own town. No wonder, then, that she denounced you. You’ve brought her nothing but trouble – at least leave her in peace, Leora.”

  I am silent. Mum would never denounce me. She wouldn’t. I know that much.

  He smiles gently. “It would be easier if you just accepted that you no longer have a mother. You will stay where I command.”

  “I’m a prisoner?” I ask, and Longsight raises his eyebrows.

  “A prisoner? Oh, that’s a bit crass. Let’s just stay that you will remain here as my guest. If you care about your blank friend, that is.”

  My mind swims, as though I am shipwrecked and watching all the things I care about floating further away, sinking to the depths. Minnow returns, and gives Longsight a brief nod.

  Longsight gives a languid smile as he stands and smooths down his robe. “Walk with me, Leora.”

  Minnow holds me tightly, one hand at my shoulder, the other clasping my wrists. I had expected Mayor Longsight’s pace to be quick and purposeful, but he walks slowly down the corridors of the government building, nodding graciously to staff who back against the wooden-panelled walls and bow their heads. In contrast to his relaxed presence, Minnow seems bulky and awkward.

  “I can’t tell you how good it feels to no longer fear death,” Longsight purrs as we walk.

  “You believe you will live for ever?” I can’t keep the scorn from my voice. Longsight merely raises a shoulder as if to say, just look at me. “So … what did you do? How did you work this supposed miracle? Did you have to say magic words or go through rituals?” I sound dismissive, sarcastic, but really, I’m desperate to know what has happened, how it is that he walks by my side when he should be flayed and made into a skin book.

  “Ah, your curiosity has finally been piqued. I knew it wouldn’t be long. I’ll tell you what happened, gladly – I have no secrets from my people, and I would still like to believe that you are one of us, Leora. But first, a little background.” He is quiet for a minute while we walk past people in the passageway and all we hear are their hushed voices and our footsteps. We turn a corner and he resumes.

  “It’s one thing knowing one’s destiny. It’s quite another to live it.” I think of all the times I have been told that I was born for this moment – that I am a symbol, a sign, a bridge. “I had only ever trusted Jack here with my deepest thoughts and, as good a listener as you are, Jack, I could see that the sceptic within you won every time.” He smiles. “I forgive you that, of course. It is not easy to accept change.”

  He stops to look at a painting that is hung on the wall and Jack shuffles to a halt, pulling me back before I bump into the mayor. The painting shows Saint, our saviour, whose likeness is at the centre of our town. It shows him walking, back turned to the viewer, along a long path. The ground beneath his feet is as red as a carpet welcoming royalty. It is red with the blood that seeps from his body with every step – for, of course, he is walking home to Saintstone, away from the blanks whose wicked leader skinned him as punishment for bringing them his good message of hope. The story I grew up with, the story I heard so often it was embedded in my bones.

  I know a different story now.

  “It’s a great story,” Mayor Longsight says as he gazes at the image. “The thing not many people ask, though, is ‘What happened next?’ What happened after Saint reached Saintstone?”

  “Well, that’s because we know,” I reply. “He arrived back home, wrapped in his skin like a kingly robe, and he was welcomed as a hero. He is the reason our dead are flayed.” My voice is dangerously bored. Minnow’s fingers squeeze painfully on my wrists. A warning. But Longsight just gives a small smile – humouring me.

  “I’m glad you’ve not forgotten. But that’s not what I mean. What happened after that?”

  I shrug. “Don’t tell me – they made him mayor and he was just like you?” Longsight loves to proclaim himself as the new Saint and so, I fling all the hate I have into the word, mayor.

  Longsight glances at Minnow and nods minutely and Jack twists his grip until the pain is so great that my knees give way.

  “Don’t test my patience,” Longsight says, in a tone that is light and sweet, as though he is talking to a puppy. I get back to my feet, my eyes smarting with pain.

  “I imagine he would have been a fine mayor, Leora,” Longsight carries on. “But he never got the chance. He lived long enough to hear the people’s applause and to tell his tale … but then he died. We don’t tell that bit, because we all prefer a hero to a human.” Mayor Longsight sets off walking again. “It’s a useful storyteller’s device – if you leave someone alive at the end of your story, your listener doesn’t have to think about their death. It’s in good taste, but it’s not the whole truth.”

  And he’s right, I think. Everyone in the stories lives happily ever after.

  It makes me think of another story: before I knew I had another mum, I never longed for anyone else. It was only when I heard about Miranda and was told the tale of her life and of her death that I missed her, grieved her. Nothing new had happened – it had always been so – but I suddenly felt the heaviness of loss like it might pull me under. Nothing had changed, except my story.

  “My story is different,” says Longsight. “My
story does not end with a death – no, for my death was just a beginning. When the storytellers speak of me, they will never say ‘he was’ – only ‘he is’.”

  “And you foresaw this?” I ask curiously. “You knew you were … immortal?”

  “I knew there was something special about me, yes,” he says. “That I was different – as though my ancestors had set me aside for their own purposes. And the people could feel it too – they said that I was Saint reborn, come for a new era of hope, power and change.”

  People did speak of him that way, in his election campaign and beyond. I had felt the same. Dan Longsight gave us all a feeling that something better was coming. I loved him for it, once. I wish I could say that even then I saw through him, that my gut instinct had warned me to distrust him, but it would be a lie. I had been as taken in as everyone else. Well, almost everyone else – the crows weren’t fooled. Connor, Oscar and Obel, and the other rebels. Dad. Why hadn’t he told me?

  “You tried to talk me out of it, didn’t you, Jack?” Longsight says. Minnow says nothing in response, and Longsight, smiling, carries on. “When I shared my plan with you – to lure Sana, to allow her to commit the act she had been desperate for for so long – I believe it left you shocked.” Minnow’s eyebrows raise momentarily, and I wonder how shocked he was. Hadn’t Sana said she and Jack had worked together? “I saw the doubt in your eyes: why invite your enemy to your quarters? Why make it so easy for them? Why choose death? But now you understand. I reached the high office of mayor because I am deliberate, clever, and because I have very little time for pity.”

  “And because you’re special,” I say blandly.

  “And because of that.” He smiles at me. “We knew that Sana would not be able to resist a public spectacle – we fed information to the crows so that she knew when and where the public address would happen. It was too good for her to resist – a chance to catch us unawares, or so she thought. An opportunity not only to defeat the leader of her enemies, but to do it right in front of them.”

  I almost – almost – feel sorry for Sana. She was tricked. The only question was how.

  “The knife had blood on it when I found it in Featherstone,” I say.