by T. C. Edge
Despite the cold, I soon drift off, my head praying for the respite of sleep. With trembling bones I disappear into my dreams, waking to the brighter light of the campfires dotted around these communal caverns, and with my body having been warmed by their glow.
It takes a little while for my eyes to crack fully open, and for my mind to fully wake. Then Zander appears before me once more, his face paler than usual, the sight of dark shadows lurking beneath his eyes.
It doesn’t look like he’s slept.
“Morning, Brie,” he says. “It’s time for you to go.”
I arch my back up against the wall, dragging off the loose rags that acted as my blanket for the night.
“Why? What’s going on?” I yawn.
“You’ve spent enough time here. Lady Orlando has been in contact with Adryan. You need to see him again tonight.”
My body wakes a little more at the thought. I blink hard and yawn again, covering my mouth.
“Tonight,” I say, nodding. “Um, right, OK. I need to get some new shoes…”
“Shoes?” he asks.
“Yeah, long story. What time is it,” I ask, searching the rock floor for my watch. I have the habit of taking it off when I sleep.
“It’s nearing 8. It should be safe enough for you to travel back to the academy now.”
Four hours sleep. I feel like I’ve had about four minutes…
“OK, sure. So, when will I come back here?”
“That depends. This will be your third date with Adryan. He’s informed us that he should be able to arrange for you to be tested and approved after that. I’m no expert, obviously, but as far as I know things can go quite fast from there. Regarding…your marriage.”
My marriage. It still sounds kinda ridiculous to me. Although not quite as scary as it once did…
I nod.
“Good. That’s good. The sooner we get hitched, the sooner I can get my mission done, right?”
I inject my words with some optimism, and brighten my eyes too. Zander attempts to imitate my smile but fails. Apparently he’s too tired to pretend.
“Right,” is all he says. “If you wanna go and say goodbye to Drum, he’s over in the main chamber. I’ll take you back to the surface after.”
I rise on aching legs, and do as my brother suggested. The main chamber is already lively, fires blazing and people eating breakfast. I find Drum in his assigned spot, munching on a meagre amount of dried meat and bread leftover from the previous night’s dinner.
He appears in good spirits, even when I tell him I’m leaving. I think having me down here for a couple of nights has helped him relax a little, his determination to join up with the Nameless and become a soldier turning his mind to more positive things.
I still don’t like the idea, but it’s not for me to dissuade him. Seeing him with an upbeat disposition is so rare, and certainly better than the alternative. If joining the Nameless is what he needs to do to put his demons to rest, then who am I to stop him?
Instead, I leave him with a nod of consent and support, and promise that I’ll see him soon.
“Say hi to Mrs Carmichael for me,” he says. “And Tess as well...”
He says it without thinking, without realising that, other than me, no one can know where he is. Such a thing would only put them in danger. I decide, right there and then, not even to inform Mrs Carmichael of our reunion.
Of course, I don’t tell him that. All I say is: “Sure Drum, I’ll tell them,” before hugging him as best I can and leaving him there among the rest of the refugees.
I travel back up to the surface with Zander, covering the same ground that I’ve passed over several times now over the last few days and nights. Up on the streets of the northern quarter, a mist remains, still clinging to the air as we work our way south towards more populous parts of the city.
Once we’ve arrived at the inner districts of the northern quarter, Zander feels confident to leave me. He turns me to face him and departs with a few final words, designed to both keep my spirits high and my mind focused.
“Your abilities are building fast, Brie,” he says. “Keep practicing on anyone you can trust, but always be mindful of your surroundings. Be careful. Be vigilant at all times. Things will be moving very quickly for you now, and the deeper you go into the world of Inner Haven, the more difficult it will be for us to see each other.”
“Why? Can’t I come across to Outer Haven once I’m married to Adryan?”
I don’t like the thought. Without Zander’s training and guidance, as well as the support of Mrs Carmichael, I’ll be lost out there.
“It’s not as easy as just crossing back and forward through the gate. You’ll be under greater scrutiny once you join the ranks of Inner Haven. They’ll want to know you’re committed, and you’re settling in well. Returning to Outer Haven won’t help that.”
“So…when will I see you again?” I ask, a surge of concern passing through me that I may not see him for a while.
“Soon, dear sister,” he says, smiling comfortingly. He taps me on the temple. “But remember, I’m always here. We can always talk, no matter what.”
The thought gives me some relief. And now, with my mental capabilities developing so fast, I suspect our telepathic conversations will be clearer and more elaborate.
With a kiss to the forehead, he leaves me, disappearing again into the fog. I watch him for a moment, staring northwards towards the deserted streets, where the secret war continues to brew. Where the Nameless operate in the shadows, constantly fighting for the people’s rights, even if they don’t know it.
It’s strange, really, that they remain so hidden from the minds of the general population. Even their appearance at the ceremony, when they sent out a warning across the four quarters of the city, didn’t serve to curry belief among the people.
The Consortium merely spoke of them as pranksters at best and a terrorist cell at worst, making them out to be the ones the people should fear. In a way, they used it to their advantage, using both the Nameless, and the Fanatics, to help them spread the seed of terror across the city.
But not everyone is so bowed by fear, so willing to agree and comply with all the directives sent down from on high. Across the city, many people sympathise with the Nameless’ cause, some of them actively working to ensure they’re fed, armed, and capable of holding back the growing storm.
And growing the storm is, like a gentle wind that begins to whip, before coiling and spiralling and transforming into a twisting tornado. Soon enough, the secret war will start to spread, and people will need to decide.
Live like slaves, or fight for their freedom.
That will be the choice before us all if I should fail.
71
Exhausted as I feel, I have no time to rest when I finally return to the academy. What I do have time for, however, is to wash and change my clothes. After spending two days and nights without showering, and sleeping rough in the underlands, I’m beginning to resemble a Disposable.
It’s not a great look for me, and with my third date with Adryan upcoming, a bit of minor pampering is definitely in order.
Before I do that, however, I pay a visit to my guardian, and request that she do me a favour. When she asks me, in a state of mild shock given my appearance, just what I’ve been up to these last two days, I refuse to offer any detailed explanation.
Doing so would merely require me to shield those memories, and with time running short, I have no energy or inclination for such a thing.
What I do find interesting, however, is that she isn’t unduly worried about the fact that she heard nothing from me all this time.
“I assumed that you were with Zander,” she explains. “And, if something happened to you, I imagine he’d have the decency to tell me.”
That’s a fair rationalisation. However, there’s something more in her that a little dart inside her mind illuminates: she’s begun to make her peace with the fact that I might well die, and die so
on.
It’s her method of dealing with it all. If she assumes the worst, then it’ll come as less of a shock when it actually happens. Hardening herself up, she’s starting to turn back into the more austere and unemotional woman who she likes to present to the world.
I know different, of course, and that she’s got a deeply caring and sensitive side. And certainly, that’s been on show these last few weeks. Yet, right now, she’s pushing that part of herself away, and desensitising herself for what she considers the inevitability of what’s to come.
Since I refuse to explain exactly what I’ve been up to, she takes a moment to consider my request. Her grievance at being kept out of the loop is only half of it, though.
The other half is that it involves Sophie, a woman she doesn’t exactly get along with.
“So, you want me to talk to Sophie do you? You want that woman helping you?”
“Brenda, I need some new shoes, and probably clothes as well, for my trip to Inner Haven. I’m going to be spending lots of time there, and could do with a suitable wardrobe. She’s the only one who can help me. Now, please, can you get her over here as soon as possible? I need to shower…”
She sniffs the air. My scent is so strong that it’s even overpowering the usually unyielding smell of smoke in the room.
“Yes, you certainly need a shower, we’re in agreement there,” she mutters. Then she takes a shallow breath and shakes her head. “Fine, I’ll contact her. But you can greet her downstairs. I don’t want to spend any time in her presence.”
“Deal,” I say, biting my tongue to stop from saying anything more.
Frankly, her opinion of Sophie is far too harsh for my liking. Sure, she’s different to us, and has an occasionally annoying way about her, but she’s also got a kind heart and is sweet as sugar.
As I go off and wash, scrubbing myself clean of the dirt and grime and fetid mist that seems to have seeped into my skin, Mrs Carmichael heads off to the bottom of Brick Lane to initiate contact with my liaison.
Once I’m all done, dried, and dressed, I find my guardian knocking on my door and entering my room.
“She’s coming around now. She said she had to rearrange some things, but is happy to help you. No doubt it’s because you’re courting a Savant,” she adds bitterly. “You’re quite the prize for her, aren’t you…”
“Don’t start, Brenda. Please.”
“I will start, and finish, whatever I please in my own home, Brie.”
Oh God, that belligerence is back…
I choose not to respond for fear of getting into a debate. She leaves me alone and goes back to her room. I slip downstairs and await Sophie there, my chaperone arriving far more quickly than I’d have expected. By the time the door knocks, it’s still only early afternoon, giving us plenty of time before my date with Adryan at the usual time of 7PM.
One of the main things Mrs Carmichael dislikes – actually, dislikes isn’t strong enough…detests would be better – about Sophie is her perceived arrogance, superiority, and that false smile that so commonly adorns her face.
As I open the door to greet her, however, I find that smile absent. On seeing me, she tries to raise it, but it quickly falters and slips away again. Her tone, too, isn’t as bright and breezy as usual. It’s rather more muted, as if half her energy has been sucked right out of her.
“Hello, Brie,” she says. Even her hug is half-hearted. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses and requested my help. So, it’s shoes you need most of all is it?”
“Yeah, shoes and maybe some more clothes too. Um, thanks for coming so quickly, Sophie. I really appreciate it.”
“Oh, not at all. I’m working with a new group for the next bachelor ball, but it isn’t for some time yet. They can get along without me for a few hours.”
She leads me outside and into her car, and we begin making for the southern quarter and Liberty Row. Her usual loquaciousness, something I’ve found irritating in the past, is also missing. Mostly, she looks out of the window with a pensive frown on her face and eyes that stare blankly.
It doesn’t take me too long to work out what’s bothering her. Only a week or so ago, Rycard was caught in the Fanatic’s attack on the market, his right eye badly damaged and his face covered in lacerations. I wonder for a moment how he is, before tentatively asking.
She turns her eyes back to me, their blue lights dimmed.
“He’s, um…he’s not great, Brie. His right eye was seriously wounded. He may never see out of it again.”
“Oh, Sophie, I’m so sorry,” I gasp. I’m not surprised, however, given the state it was in when I saw him. “How is he?”
“As bad as his eye,” remarks Sophie flatly. “He’s on a leave of absence from the City Guard. If his eye doesn’t recover, then he’ll be discharged.”
“Discharged? What will he do?”
“There’s little he can do, unfortunately. Being a member of the City Guard was his life. Now, we don’t quite know what will happen. A Hawk with one eye…well, they can’t do their job. He’s worried. I’m…I’m worried…”
I reach across and lay my hand on hers, squeezing her fingers.
“I’m sure things will be OK,” I say, smiling weakly. “And those responsible will pay,” I add with a growl. “I promise you of that.”
She too manages a little smile, a hint of curiosity tracing her brows at my words. I uttered them with some conviction, knowing my current position. She can’t, of course, and to her they must sound like nothing but empty words designed to make her feel better.
“Thank you, Brie. Now, let’s turn our minds to you, shall we? How are things going with Adryan?”
It’s a tricky transition, going from something so terrible to something that, in some ways, ignites a sudden, warming feeling inside me. Adryan himself is someone I’ve enjoyed spending time with. And yet what he represents – my mission – is something I’d like to get done as quickly as possible.
Of course, all I tell Sophie is that things are going well, and that I’ll be tested for approval to marry Adryan soon.
“I can see that twinkle in your eye,” she remarks. “I’m so happy things are moving quickly for you.”
Yes, necessarily so.
As we near Liberty Row, I try to mine a bit more information from Sophie regarding the test the Council are going to put me through.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she informs me with a wave of her hand. “Just a formality for most girls. As long as you’re committed to Adryan, and living in Inner Haven, you’ll be just fine.”
So…not fine then, I muse. Maybe I can get on board with committing to Adryan, but living in Inner Haven is another matter.
Still, her general manner of dismissing the test as anything too tricky to handle helps assuage my concerns. With my newly developed ability to tinker with people’s minds, convincing these people that I do truly wish to join the ranks of Inner Haven shouldn’t be too difficult.
The car cruises down Liberty Row, passing nearby to Culture Corner as it goes. I spare a look as it appears down the street, the large square now cleared and capable of receiving visitors once more.
Usually, at this sort of time, people would be flocking in during lunch, taking a look at the murals and sculptures and enjoying the various performances around the square. Now, however, the place appears mostly deserted, the once beating cultural heart of Outer Haven tainted and forsaken.
Down Liberty Row, the same applies, if to a lesser extent. These particularly fancy districts of the southern quarter, most people must assume, might make for appealing targets for the Fanatics.
Still, life needs to go on, and so we find ‘The Inner Circle’, the shop catering to Unenhanced marrying up, open for business and ready to receive us. Upon entering, the saleswoman greets Sophie warmly and looks upon with me with some recognition.
It’s the same woman who kitted Tess and me out before our first jaunt to Inner Haven several weeks ago.
With a slightly m
ore subdued energy than normal, Sophie sets about finding me some suitable shoes. I try on several pairs of various kinds, many of them adjustable, and end up being given them all.
The same goes for clothes. Skirts, blouses, dresses, sweaters, shirts and all manner of other garments are tried on and added to the bill. I’m shocked by the manner with which Sophie piles them all up without a second thought for the cost.
“Oh, it’s not my money, Brie,” she says when I query her on it. “The Council of Matrimony fund all women who marry up. They prefer us all to come equipped with all the right clothes and looking the part.”
Well, I’ll certainly do that, and I’m happy to see that there’s some variation to the clothes I’ll be able to wear. So far, I’ve been dolled up in rather elegant, if simple, dresses. Now, my eyes turn to the prospect of wearing blue skirts and pants and sweaters, and any other item that appears more like the clothes I’m used to.
With our shopping trip concluded, and the car stacked full of bags, Sophie insists on a visit to the beauty parlour. She reaches forward and inspects the ends of my hair, and the many tangled knots that my hasty shower clearly didn’t deal with.
“Oh, this won’t do at all,” she says, shaking her head.
Next, she looks at my face, focusing particularly on my skin, which still probably carries the odour of the underlands to it.
“What have you been up to recently, Brie,” she remarks, her nose apparently capable of sniffing out the subtlest of scents.
“You know, living,” I laugh nervously.
“Well, your skin needs some work, as does your hair. Let’s get you sorted out. Come along now.”
The same beauty parlour as before sees to my transformation, putting me through a range of therapies that leave me with glowing skin and hair. My locks flow gloriously to my shoulders, and my hazel eyes jump right out with their skilful application of understated makeup.
With time galloping along, I conclude my time with Sophie at a little café, where she probes a little deeper into my experience so far with Adryan. I don’t like talking about it too much, and yet find myself smiling as I remember my previous evening with him.
