by Helen Harper
If Dante’s trying to make me feel better about myself, he’s failed. I’m horrified he’s brought it up. Now I look like someone who’s petty enough to be disturbed by a comment like that from someone I hardly know. I’m desperate to change the subject. ‘Why are you helping me now? You could have done something about the Mayor a long time ago. You can say it was too hard but you still could have tried.’
I’m surprised when he looks slightly shamed. ‘You’re right,’ he says quietly. ‘I should have done something. I guess I needed someone as brave as you to give me a kick in the balls and get me to wake up.’
I blink rapidly. ‘I’m not brave.’
He reaches over and takes my hands. This time I don’t flinch away. ‘You’ve done more in a couple of weeks in the Dreamlands than anyone since–’
‘Salib?’ I guess.
Dante looks surprised. ‘Actually, I was going to say Albert Hall. The last dreamweaver.’
I feel awkward. ‘Hey, I’m just making this shit up as I go along.’
‘I want to help. Let me help.’
I shake my head. ‘Everything’s in place. I just need to sleep. If you hang back then...’ I swallow, ‘there’ll be someone left to try again if I mess up. You and Bron.’
His face abruptly shutters. ‘Right, Bron.’
I chew on my lip. ‘Actually, there is one thing you can do.’
‘Name it.’
‘Somnolence. Get it back up and running. Tell anyone who’s still awake to go to the square and wait there.’
‘Wait there for what?’
‘I need an audience,’ I say grimly.
He looks like he’s about to say something but thinks better of it and nods at me. I’m relieved he trusts me. ‘Those pills are pretty strong,’ he tells me in warning. ‘Once you take them, the police will find it difficult to wake you up.’
‘That’s okay,’ I say, already thinking ahead. ‘If this doesn’t work then I’ll either be dead or sent to prison for a very long time. The police can wait.’
I stand up and take his hand, attempting to be formal. It’s my way of apologising for not trusting him any more than he initially trusted me. He turns my hand over, his thumb stroking my palm. Then he mutters something to himself that sounds like ‘fuck it’ and pulls me to him, his head bending down to kiss me. My stomach squirms – and for the first time in a long time, in a good way.
He breaks off abruptly, stepping back and watching me with an expression that’s completely unfathomable. ‘Good luck.’
I murmur something inane, press my palms to my cheeks as if to quell the heat that’s surged back into them, while he strides away.
Chapter Twenty
Ladies who play with fire must remember that smoke gets in their eyes.
Mae West
Dante was telling the truth about the sleeping pills. Barely five minutes after I’ve swallowed them, I feel my eyelids droop and the heaviness of sleep encroach. I don’t doubt that despite the lateness of the hour I’ll be called back to answer more questions soon. I don’t know much about the justice system but my house is probably already being searched right now. I repress a shudder at the thought of strangers traipsing through it.
I’m relieved that Dante thinks the drugs are strong enough to keep me under. I’m going to need time to see my plans through.
The moment my ears prickle, I leave the forest using the same route I used the last time. It’s easier now I know what to expect and I have a route mapped out. When I scoot from rooftop to rooftop, however, the thatch is even more irritating and I stop several times to scratch at my skin. I end up not only scraped and raw from the compacted straw but also covered in scratches from my fingernails. If the Mayor does get the better of me and my fate is the same as Miller’s and Salib’s, whoever conducts the post-mortem will have a gay old time trying to work out what I did to myself.
This time I bypass the castle and take the long way round to the oxbow lake. I’m relieved when I cross the last row of cottages and spot Ashley sitting humming to herself. Sending her a silent apology for what I’m about to do, I check the coast is clear then leap down to talk to her.
She’s so lost in her own world that I’m behind her before she notices me. She jerks in fright until she sees it’s me. ‘Good grief, Zoe! You scared the living daylights out of me!’
I smile. ‘Sorry, it wasn’t intentional. How are you doing, Ashley?’
‘I’m good.’ Her mouth turns down at the corners. ‘I heard about the mares. I can’t believe you led them through the town like that. It must have been a hell of a sight.’ Despite her grim expression, there’s a hint of awe in her tone.
‘It wasn’t such a big deal,’ I say. ‘But I guess you heard what the Mayor said afterwards.’
‘Yeah.’ She bites her lip and nods doubtfully. ‘They are pretty dangerous.’
‘Except,’ I point out, ‘they didn’t attack anyone when I freed them.’
‘No,’ she says slowly. ‘But why would the Mayor capture them except to keep them safely away?’ The answer is already written all over her face; she just doesn’t want to admit it. She looks even more troubled. ‘He’s been looking for you, you know.’
‘The Mayor? Don’t worry, I’m going to find him and speak to him.’
Her eyes widen. ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’
I smile. ‘I want to do it before he gets too upset. But I need your help.’
‘Of course! What can I do?’
She’s so eager to come to assist me that I know I’ve got the right person. I hope she’ll manage to forgive me when all this is over. I force myself to meet her eyes. ‘I was in the castle earlier today and I found a butcher’s knife there. I know I’m supposed to hand it in because we’re not allowed to carry weapons but I didn’t think it would be a good idea for me to take it.’ I twiddle with my hair awkwardly. ‘If the Mayor saw me carrying it...’
‘Yeah,’ she agrees. ‘He wouldn’t like it very much. You should ask Esme to collect it for you.’
‘I was hoping you would.’
‘Ask Esme?’
I shake my head. ‘Fetch the knife.’
Ashley’s face pales. ‘But I don’t go into the castle. No one goes into the castle apart from Esme.’
‘Yeah, it’s kind of creepy.’
She shudders. ‘Kind of? It’s like some horrid tomb. All those unconscious people – there are even kids there.’
‘I know.’ I drop my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘But Esme only goes in because no one else will. It’s obvious it’s really hard for her. I mean, she’s like them, isn’t she? She’s in a coma too.’
Ashley stares at me. ‘Oh gosh,’ she whispers, ‘I never thought of it like that. She must hate it.’
I nod. ‘She does. I asked her.’
I can see that Ashley really doesn’t want to go there and I don’t blame her. ‘We could just leave it there,’ she suggests.
‘Ordinarily I would but, like you said, there are kids in there. If one of them wakes up or sleepwalks or something and finds it...’
‘They do that? Sleepwalk, I mean?’
‘That’s what Esme told me,’ I lie.
‘I had no idea.’ Ashley looks sick at the thought.
I wait for a moment, giving her time to think it through. ‘I can see you don’t really want to do it. It’s alright, Ashley, I’ll ask someone else. Or maybe I’ll go and get it myself. How mad can the Mayor get?’ I force a laugh.
Stricken, she shakes her head. ‘No, you ... you’re right. You can’t let him see you with it. He flies into a rage sometimes and if he thinks you have a weapon...’ She sounds more decisive. ‘I’ll get it for you. Don’t worry, Zoe.’
‘Thank you so much, Ashley. You don’t know what this means.’
‘Sure,’ she mumbles, her face still pale. ‘Should I go now?’
I feel awful. ‘Yes. It would be better to get it out of way. Meet me in the square when you have it.’
&nbs
p; She swallows hard, then walks off in the castle’s direction. I watch her go, worry gnawing at me. I’ve come this far, though; I have to see this through.
As soon as Ashley’s out of sight, I clamber back onto the nearest roof, hunching down and moving swiftly. I probably only have five or ten minutes once Ashley’s entered the castle, so I can’t take long. It’s harder to stay unnoticed now because the streets at this end of town are busy; I have a few hairy moments when I’m sure I’ve been spotted. I’m not, however, and eventually I’m crouching down on the roof of Esme’s little shop.
Annoyingly, there’s a crowd of teenagers standing in front of it. I recognise them as the ones who were getting drunk in the pub during my first visit. They are having a good-natured argument about whether it would be better to be eaten by a mare or trapped in the Badlands; the general consensus is that the mare option would be the worst. I scowl. The Mayor has certainly succeeded in keeping everyone in a state of fear. I’m not denying that it’s wise to be wary of the mares but they’re hardly monsters.
I watch them argue for a few minutes. It doesn’t look like they’re going to move away from the door any time soon. Even if they did, there are so many other Travellers standing around and gossiping, or wandering up and down the street, that nipping inside without being seen will be impossible. I guess I need another entry point.
I smile humourlessly; it’s the Mayor’s benign, Santa Claus-like appearance that gives me the idea.
I cross the roof and stoop behind the chimney. I take a moment to steel myself and double-check that no one is looking up in my direction, then I drop my legs down the stack. As I’d hoped, the chimney is fairly large. I have to wriggle my hips to get fully inside, and twist my shoulders to avoid getting stuck completely, but in seconds I’m fully enveloped by the stifling, claustrophobic darkness. At least the tight squeeze means I’m not going to fall down to the fireplace and break a leg.
I shimmy my way down, inch by inch. The soot tickles my nostrils and makes breathing hard. By the time I’ve pushed myself round the curve in the chimney flume and can feel my legs dangling in air, I’m coughing and spluttering.
‘What on earth...?’ I hear Esme say from below.
I call down. ‘Hi Esme!’ My cheery tone is spoiled somewhat by the hacking cough that follows it.
‘Zoe? You again?’
‘Yup. Can you grab my legs and pull? I’m a bit stuck.’
There’s a moment of stunned silence before Esme helps me out. I feel a sharp tug around my ankles. Using my fingers to scrabble against the bricks, I shove myself through. There’s a popping noise as the air above me is freed, then I’m crashing into the fireplace in an ungainly heap of limbs.
‘Well, this is certainly unorthodox,’ I hear Esme say.
I wipe my eyes and give her a weak smile. ‘Hi.’
‘You know there’s a door, right?’
‘I’ve been travelling incognito,’ I tell her, scrambling to my feet.
She sighs heavily. ‘The Mayor again? I told you I didn’t want to get involved.’
‘I’m not here about him.’
‘Then why? If you want something, you’re not going to get it for free. Not this time.’
‘Actually,’ I say, dusting off my hands, ‘it’s about the castle.’
‘What about it?’
‘Well, I thought you said people tended to avoid it.’
She puts her hands on her hips, clearly running out of patience. ‘So?’
I shrug as nonchalantly as I can when I’m covered from head to toe in black soot. ‘I saw Ashley walking inside a few minutes ago. She was marching through the door very purposefully.’
Esme frowns. ‘Ashley? She has no reason to go in there.’
‘From what little I know of her, she’s always keen to help people out.’
‘She has a big heart,’ Esme agrees.
I nod and step over to a shelf to examine an old-fashioned phone. I pick up the receiver and hold it to my ear as if I’m expecting to hear something. I hold my breath. Come on Esme, I plead inwardly.
She tuts. ‘That foolish girl is probably trying to help the sleepers. She should know by now that they can’t be woken up.’
‘Oh?’ I say innocently. ‘Well, it’s probably nothing to worry about then.’
I turn away from the phone and glance at Esme. Emotions flicker across her face and she shakes her head, irritated. ‘I’d better go and stop her before she does something to disturb them. Stay here and look after the shop. Those kids are hanging around outside again.’ She flings open the door and throws me a glare. ‘Don’t touch anything!’
I give her a mock salute. When the door closes behind her, I heave a sigh of relief. ‘Watch out, Mayor,’ I whisper. ‘I’m coming for you.’
***
Despite Esme’s order for me to stay put, I count to one hundred in my head then leave. This time, I don’t hide my presence. I want the Mayor to find me.
It’s not long before I’m noticed. The group of teenagers have moved further down the street but a tall brunette on the periphery of the group spots me. She nudges the boy next to her and heads swivel in my direction. Unlike more circumspect adults, they waste no time in confronting me. Their leader is a lanky boy who swaggers up to me. ‘You’re the one who controls the mares, right?’
I don’t stop walking. ‘They’re wild animals. No one controls them.’
‘They’re not just wild animals. They’re vicious creatures that’ll eat you as soon as look at you. Which makes you either Doctor Doolittle or a witch.’
I flick him a lazy smile. ‘Well, I guess I’m a witch then.’ I see a suited and booted guy stare at me before taking off at high speed round the corner, no doubt to inform the Mayor or his guards. Or both. I speed up: it’s imperative I get to the square for all this to unfold.
‘Are you trying to run away from me?’ the boy inquires.
I almost snort. There are plenty of things I’m afraid of; this kid isn’t one of them. ‘No. But I have a prior engagement in the square. In fact,’ I say, ‘you might want to come along.’ I glance at his buddies who are close behind us but bunched up together. Safety in numbers. ‘You lot too.’
‘Why?’ one of them asks. ‘Are you going to bring out the mares again?’
I give him a wink. ‘Come and find out.’
I start jogging, aware that other people are falling in behind the teenagers. Apparently rubber-necking is as much of a hobby here in the Dreamlands as it is in the real world. It suits my purposes though, so I don’t react.
‘Do you think she’s a dreamweaver?’ I hear someone whisper.
‘Nah,’ someone answers. ‘She ain’t strong enough.’
‘If she is, we’re pretty screwed. She looks kind of shifty to me.’
I tighten my lips into a grim smile. I wondered whether I was doing the right thing getting Ashley involved but my gut instincts were correct. No one is going to trust me; I’m a stranger who’s only been apparating for a few weeks. And I’ve hardly gone out of my way to be friendly and get to know people.
When I pivot to my left, I spy four uniformed guards striding in my direction. They’re about a hundred feet away so I swerve down the next small street to avoid a head-on collision that’ll end up with me being dragged back to the Department’s grim headquarters. I hear some shouting as they start to pursue me and I try not to react. The crowd behind me might create a buffer until I reach the square. Unfortunately for me, the guards are smarter than they look and another set of four appears, using a pincer manoeuvre to block me in.
‘We’re taking you to see the Mayor,’ one shouts.
I walk up to them while the people behind me fall back. They don’t leave; they’re obviously curious about what’s going to happen but they’re not willing to get directly involved.
‘I’m on my way to see him now,’ I say calmly.
‘Yeah, right.’
I sigh. ‘It’s the truth.’
The guard leer
s at me nastily and holds up a pair of handcuffs. ‘Then you won’t mind putting these on.’
‘I’ve not done anything wrong though.’
‘You unleashed dangerous creatures in public. People could have been killed.’
‘But no one was. No one was hurt. In fact those dangerous creatures, despite having been kept in appalling conditions, ignored everyone. They just wanted to get back to the forest. If they wanted to terrorise people, I’m sure they would have done it before now.’
Doubt creeps into his face, then his eyes harden. He gestures to his three companions and, like a well-rehearsed dance troupe, they simultaneously raise their batons.
‘Why does the Mayor get to decide what’s right and what’s wrong?’ I ask, holding up my wrists so he can snap on the cuffs.
‘Because he’s the Mayor.’ He fastens them tightly and the cold steel pinches at my skin. I wonder why things like knives and cuffs and batons appear in the Dreamlands; even without the Mayor and his Department, there must be something sinister here for them to exist. But then, if this place is fuelled by the subconscious minds of the world, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
I think about willing them to vanish but I’m not sure whether I have that sort of power or control. Equally, I don’t want this to be about me. If I’m the centre of attention, then I’ll probably lose.
I drop my head meekly to show the guards that I’m not about to fight them. It doesn’t do me much good; out of the corner of my eye I see something careening towards me. Realising it’s a baton, I duck down but it still smashes into the side of my head. A wave of pain judders through me.
Several of the onlookers hiss. Perhaps the blow wasn’t such a bad thing, after all. It’s one thing to ‘arrest’ someone, it’s quite another to hurt them when they’re trussed up and helpless.
