The August 5

by Jenna Helland

  Tommy peered at the person’s face. It wasn’t a beggar at all. It was Emilie. The dark hood covered her red hair, and her face was gaunt and tired. She stared at him with bleary, bloodshot eyes.

  “Hey,” he said in surprise. “What’s wrong?”

  “Pretend you don’t know me,” she whispered. He glanced around quickly, but there was no one near them on the street.

  “Are you waiting for me?” he asked.

  “Your father arrested my friend yesterday,” Emilie said. “He’s in the compound and they’re going to kill him, like they did my fath—I mean, like they did Michael Henry. I need to find out what’s happening to him. Please, can you help me?”

  “Oh, Emilie, I don’t know what I can do,” Tommy said. “If I ask, it will mean trouble for everyone.”

  Emilie’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I know. It was so stupid to come.”

  “I want to help,” Tommy told her. “But even if I asked him, he wouldn’t tell me anything, and he’d want more information about you.”

  “I know you can’t ask him,” Tamsin cried. “But is there any other way to find out? My friend’s name is Gavin Baine. Is there anyone else you can trust?”

  Tommy realized how desperate she must feel to have waited for him here in the heart of a Zunft district on the off chance that he could help her.

  “I’ll try,” Tommy said. “But please don’t get your hopes up.”

  “Leave a note for me in the mail slot of Ash Street Garden,” she said. “Address it to Emilie and give me a time to meet you. I’ll be at the north end of the garden at the appointed time.”

  “All right,” he said. Suddenly, she shook the cap aggressively in front of Tommy’s face.

  “Coin!” she said loudly.

  “Hello, crazy cottager,” said Bern, who appeared at Tommy’s elbow. “Why don’t you go play in front of a wagon?”

  Emilie glared at him. Her hostility toward him was evident, and it made Bern cross.

  “I said, go away,” Bern told her. Tommy could feel the tension between them escalating dangerously.

  “Let’s go, Bern,” Tommy said, dropping a coin into the cap.

  Bern made a sudden lunge toward Emilie, pretending like he was going to hit her. She flinched and took a step backward. Tommy wanted to kill his brother for being such a bully.

  “Cut it out,” Tommy insisted. Bern made the stupid gesture one more time, only this time, Emilie didn’t flinch. Emilie spun on her heel and walked away.

  “Maybe you should get a job,” Bern called to her back.

  “Leave her alone,” Tommy said.

  “You never learn, do you,” Bern said with disgust. “You’re still taking the wrong side.”

  The boys took separate routes to Colston’s house, but they arrived at nearly the same time. Instead of a butler, a soldier opened the door. When the twins stepped into the foyer, Tommy counted five guards stationed along the corridor and standing watch at the front windows. Bern and Tommy made their way into the sitting room where a handful of Zunftmen and their wives stood near a refreshment table. It was a much smaller number than at the festive gathering earlier in the autumn. Tommy recognized his father’s old friends and political allies, but he didn’t see any of the new Carvers, who had joined Colston after the August Rising. The mood in the room was tense, and conversation seemed strained.

  “What’s going on?” Tommy whispered to Bern. “Why did Father insist on hosting people tonight? And where is he?”

  “After avoiding me for weeks, now we’re talking?” Bern said.

  “I thought you weren’t talking to me,” Tommy said.

  “You’re the recluse, not me,” Bern said.

  “I’ve been busy with schoolwork,” Tommy explained.

  “Whatever you say, Tommy,” Bern said.

  Kristin entered the room with her father, but when Tommy waved at her, she shot him a warning glance. He got the message—she wanted him to pretend not to know her. Tommy felt disappointed. Talking with Kristin would have made the night bearable. He spent the next hour watching men play billiards and wondering why his father hadn’t made an appearance at his own party. The bell rang in the kitchen, and as the guests filed toward the dining room, Kristin maneuvered her way beside him.

  “Miss Sommerfield would like to see you tomorrow at noon,” Kristin whispered. “You’re to meet her on the bench. She said you’d know what that means.”

  Tommy nodded. The “bench” was where they’d sat in Sebastian’s Circle on the day that Charlotte had been taken to the hospital.

  “What’s wrong?” Tommy asked as quietly as he could.

  Kristin shrugged and tossed her blond curls. “I’m so excited about dinner!” she said in her stupid-girl voice that she used to make Tommy and Ellie laugh. She was warning him it wasn’t safe to talk anymore. Tommy turned away from her, but he felt irritated and unsettled by everything that was happening that evening. And he hadn’t even seen his father yet.

  As the guests were taking their assigned seats, Colston strode into the room and took his seat at the head of the table.

  “My apologies, everyone,” he said. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. There was a crucial matter I had to attend to.”

  The guests were murmuring to each other and arranging napkins on their laps when a loud noise startled everyone. It was a sound like thunder, but the sky had been cloudless all day. One of the wives gasped dramatically and clutched her husband’s elbow. Colston raised his hands as if he were about to speak, but a loud explosion in the distance jolted the floor. In the middle of the long table, a goblet teetered and then tipped over. Everyone stared as red wine seeped into the white tablecloth. A few of the guests started toward the windows, but Colston said sharply: “There’s no need for that. Please, sit down.”

  Outside, another explosion boomed in the distance, and people glanced at each other nervously. Tommy was sitting two seats away from his father, and from his vantage point, he could see the southern horizon outside the open balcony door. There was an unnatural red glow above the skyline. The southern district was ablaze.

  “Welcome, friends,” Shore said with an air of satisfaction. “We are witnessing the end of an era. Tonight, the cottagers will learn their place in Zunft society. They will no longer feel entitled to use violence to destroy our way of life. Tonight, our traditions will be upheld. Our glory finally restored.”

  Across the table, Kristin’s eyes were huge. She reminded Tommy of a frightened animal. Her father laid a protective hand on her back. Even Colston’s longtime political allies seemed perplexed. Apparently, none of them knew what was happening to the city any more than Tommy did.

  “They will see that my reach extends into every rat hole in this city,” Colston said. “After tonight, the Cessation will be over, and its leaders will understand—without a doubt—that such gestures are futile. Tomorrow, we will wake up and our lives and livelihoods will be returned to normal. You have my word.”

  Another loud explosion rocked the room. This one was only a few blocks away. A breeze blew through the open balcony, bringing in the scent of burning wood and something metallic. Everything seemed surreal and frightening. His father seemed unnaturally calm, which was adding to his fear. How far would his father go to make people heel to him?

  “With the exception of the leaders, the cottagers will be forgiven,” Shore said. “I will welcome them back to decent society with open arms.”

  There was an awkward silence, and then Karl Anderson began applauding. One by one, the other guests joined in. But even the sound of clapping did nothing to drown out the violence outside. Still, Colston seemed pleased, especially when Karl raised his glass and said: “Heritage, honor, good health!”

  Colston raised his own glass, smiled magnanimously, and motioned to the guards to bring the food in. As dinner progressed, Tommy marveled at the inane attempts at conversation while something terrible was going on outside. People avoided political talk entirely and the conve
rsation flitted around ordinary things, like the weather and the flavor of the wine.

  “The food is delicious,” Mrs. Johnston said. It was the third time someone had said it. They’d already been informed that the chef from the officer barracks had been brought in to cook for them.

  “Yes, the fish was caught fresh off Norde this morning,” Colston told them. They already knew that the pears had come in from Catille and the cheese from Aeren. They’d discussed how the menu favored Catille cuisine as opposed to the Aeren tradition. They talked about Norde culinary traditions versus those of Sevenna. They kept talking and saying nothing until Tommy felt like screaming. While waiting for the dessert to be brought in, Tommy excused himself from the table, but instead of going to the washroom, he ducked into Colston’s library. Behind him, he heard Mrs. Johnston extolling the virtues of the lemon crème pie.

  The volt-lamps were off in Colston’s library and the only light came from the glow of the fireplace. Tommy didn’t know what he hoped to find, but he’d promised Emilie that he would try. He slipped behind Colston’s massive mahogany desk and flipped through the stack of papers sitting on the corner. Most of it seemed innocuous, but he noticed the name of the pub the Plough and Sun on a handwritten list. Tommy peered more closely and realized that it was a long list of businesses: Abel’s Toys. The Rising Sun Café. Alfred’s Fine Imports. Piper Leaf Market. Tommy didn’t recognize all of them, but he knew a few, like Abel’s Toys, which he’d passed on Dawson Street on his way up to his father’s house.

  He heard quick footsteps in the corridor outside. He dropped the papers and scooted away from Colston’s desk just as Bern came through the door. Tommy gazed into the fireplace and tried to act natural.

  “What are you doing?” Bern demanded.

  “I wanted to listen to the sound of explosions in private,” Tommy told him.

  “Seriously, Tommy,” Bern said. “What is going on? You were talking to the cottager on Dawson Street for a couple of minutes before I came over. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “She was a raving lunatic,” Tommy explained. “And now I wanted a few moments to myself. The world is falling apart outside and everyone is acting like nothing is happening. Can’t you understand that?”

  “The world isn’t falling apart, Tommy. It’s being restored.”

  “Apparently, you and I have different definitions of that word,” Tommy said.

  “Oh, come on,” Bern said in frustration. “What was Father supposed to do? Let them get away with it?”

  “I don’t care about politics,” Tommy lied. “I’m tired of this party.”

  “Well, dessert is being served, and then we’ll get out of here.”

  After devouring the pie as fast as possible, the other guests made their excuses and fled in their rovers. Tommy heard Colston tell Bern to wait in the foyer so a driver could take them back to Seminary, but Tommy wasn’t about to wait. He crept down to the cellar and let himself out the door. He waited until there were no guards in sight and then he threw himself over the fence into the neighbor’s yard. He cut through several lawns and a park to avoid the route he would usually take to the Seminary. As he hurried through the deserted streets of the northern district, he expected to see the aftermath of something awful—people in distress, rubble, burning buildings—but there was nothing amiss among the town houses of the Zunft’s elite.

  It wasn’t until he reached Dawson Street that he witnessed what his father had done in response to the Cessation. At the end of the street, directly across from the high Seminary wall, a sea of broken glass sparkled in the moonlight. The windows of Abel’s Toys had been smashed and the insides gutted by flames. He splashed through puddles of ashy water in front of the ruined shop. The toy store had been one of the names on the list he’d seen in his father’s library. He suddenly realized he’d seen a list of targets to be destroyed that night. But why destroy a toy store? Tommy tried to remember how many names had been on that list. Thirty? Fifty?

  When he was back inside his room in Tauber Hall with the door locked, he stared out the window at the fires flickering on the horizon. What would the world be like tomorrow? Across the river, the Plough and Sun was either under attack or burned to the ground. Somewhere, Emilie was harboring the vain hope that Tommy might be able to do something to help. But he had nothing to offer her or anyone else.

  27

  OFFICERS RAID ILLEGAL COTTAGER BUSINESS

  Zunft soldiers raided Green Timbers, a grocery in South Sevenna that has been linked to illegal cottager activities. “There are many more of these establishments,” said an officer from the Zunft army. “They are like a cancer eating away at the economic health of Seahaven.”

  —Zunft Chronicle, Evening Edition, November 3

  Bern Shore had rekindled Tamsin’s rage. She had so many troubles on her mind, but all she could think about was his smug face. It was no wonder that Mrs. Trueblood had hated him so much. Tamsin wished she had punched Bern and broken those pearly white teeth. She stalked the streets for a while, but eventually she grew weary of being furious and headed toward the Plough and Sun, where hopefully someone had news of Gavin. When she reached the other side of Shadow Bridge, she heard boots pounding toward her. She whirled around, ready to fight, but it was only Navid.

  “Not that way,” he said desperately. “Come this way.”

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’ve been waiting and waiting for you,” Navid said. The boy was visibly upset. “Mama said to wait by this bridge because you would most likely use it. I waited forever, and I was certain you wouldn’t come. But you came!”

  Confused by his babbling, Tamsin let Navid lead her into an alley and out of sight. It was getting dark, and she couldn’t imagine the Leahys telling their son to wait by Shadow Bridge for her. Sure, she used it often, but there were a number of other routes she might have taken. They had no idea what direction she would be coming from.

  “Slow down,” Tamsin said, and laid her hands on Navid’s shoulders. He was a tough boy, and he was doing his best to seem that way now, but his lip was curled like he was trying not to cry. “I don’t understand.”

  “Papa told me that I had to watch for you,” he said. “He said if I didn’t see you by the time I heard the eight o’clock bell, I was supposed to find a hiding place on the rooftops and spend the night.”

  “Navid, what is going on?” Tamsin asked.

  “The Zunft soldiers crossed the Seventh Stone and Hanged Bridges,” he said. “And they have checkpoints at the corner of Connell and Ash.”

  “How many?” Tamsin asked.

  “I don’t know,” the boy said helplessly.

  “Let’s go to the pub,” Tamsin said. “Let’s see what’s happening.”

  “No, Papa told me to find you and not let you go to the pub,” Navid insisted. “He made me promise. He said that you’re in charge of me now. You have to keep me safe.”

  “You’re not fooling me,” she said, trying to sound lighthearted. “No one needs to keep you safe. You’re the one helping me.”

  Navid gave her a shaky grin. “Either way, Papa said we had to stick together. And we can’t go to the pub.”

  “All right, we won’t go by the street,” Tamsin agreed. “But what about we take the roofs? I’m sure you know the way.”

  Navid thought about this seriously. “Yes, and there aren’t any big gaps between here and there. But you have to stay down and follow me.”

  “I promise,” Tamsin said. She watched Navid as he quickly scampered up the drainpipe like a squirrel climbing up a tree. Tamsin was strong, but she wasn’t sure she could manage the same feat. Then she noticed ridges in the bricks that she could use like a ladder, but it still took her twice as long to reach the top. She was climbing over the railing and onto the roof when a loud explosion jarred them. The impact knocked Tamsin and Navid off their feet and onto the rough shingles. Had the explosion happened a moment earlier, Tamsin would have fallen down to t
he cobblestones. Tamsin started to pick herself up, but Navid tugged her back down.

  “You’re too tall,” he said. “The soldiers might see you from the ground.”

  Hunched uncomfortably, they crawled across the roofs of three row houses that abutted up against each other before Navid stopped and pointed at the far corner. The roof had a decorative wooden railing and a small section had broken away.

  “You can see the pub through that gap,” he said. “But keep your head below the railing.”

  “I’ll check it out, and then we’ll go somewhere safe,” she said. “You stay here, all right?”

  She thought he would disagree with this, but he didn’t. He nodded and chewed on his dirty fingernail. Tamsin crept forward and peered through the ruined railing. Across the street, the Plough and Sun was engulfed in flames. Fire shot out of the open door and through the shattered windows. Guards with chatter-guns forced people to kneel in the middle of the street. From where she was, Tamsin couldn’t see their faces clearly, but one of them had muscular shoulders and a lean stature that reminded her of Brian Leahy. There were no women to be seen, so she didn’t know where Katherine might be. She pushed herself back from the edge and crawled to where Navid was waiting.

  “What did you see?” Navid asked.

  “It’s on fire, but they got everyone out,” Tamsin said.

  “Are they trying to put it out?” Navid asked.

  “Yes,” she lied. “Let’s go find somewhere to hide, like your papa wanted. You know where the shrine is? Can we get there on the roofs?”

  Navid nodded. “We can get all the way there. I’ve done it before.”

  “All right, I’ll follow you,” she said. “We’ll go as slow as we need to. We’ll be like shadows, and no one will ever know we’re here.”