For three days the Tribe had taken turns to sit with Mr Snuffles. We wrapped him in a blanket and brought him water. We couldn’t hunt for him, because we didn’t hunt the forest animals, but the other Tribe dogs shared their food with him.
On the first day he ate a little.
On the second he didn’t eat anything at all.
The third day was today and he’d stopped drinking. I didn’t need a map to tell his future. Mr Snuffles was going to die if I couldn’t think of a way to save him. I’d thought all morning without finding an answer. Then I’d thought about what Ash would try if she were here. That was when I’d known what needed to be done. I’d picked up Mr Snuffles and started walking. Daniel had walked too, coming with us into the forest.
“I can take him for a while,” Daniel said. “He must be getting heavy.”
“He’s not heavy.” That was a lie. My arms were aching even though Mr Snuffles was thinner than he’d been three days ago. But it was right that I should carry his weight.
We went on, past tree after tree until we came to the one I wanted. It was old and gnarled and one of its roots arched over a hole that went down into the earth. This was where Ash’s Pack lived.
“Hello?” I called. “Wolves? Are you there?”
For a while only silence came from the hole. Then there was a stirring and a scuffling and a wolf crawled out. I usually wasn’t any better at telling Ash’s wolves apart than Ash was at telling my spiders apart, but I knew this one because he was much bigger than any of the others.
“Hello, Pack Leader,” I said. The wolf flicked his ears in my direction, watching me out of yellow eyes. I wasn’t sure if he understood me. I didn’t speak wolf, only spider. But Ash had been able to talk to my spiders once, when I needed help. I was hoping I’d be able to do the same with her wolves.
I put Mr Snuffles down in front of Pack Leader and stepped back.
“That’s Mr Snuffles,” I said. “He’s sad. He’s so sad he’s dying.”
The wolf stared down at the pug. Mr Snuffles just lay there, all floppy and miserable. Pack Leader looked back at me, tilting his head to one side.
“If you’re asking what you can do, I don’t know,” I told him. “If you’re asking why you should help, Mr Snuffles is part of our pack, and Ash is part of your pack, so he belongs to you too in a way. Also, it’s important to Ash that he lives. Because if she comes back and he’s dead, she’ll be the one who’s sad. She’ll be so sad that she’ll never really get over it.”
Pack Leader watched me for a second longer. Then he bent over Mr Snuffles and made a soft, whuffing sound. Mr Snuffles looked up, and Pack Leader rested his long wolfy nose against Mr Snuffles’s flat puggy one. After a moment, Mr Snuffles rolled to his feet. Pack Leader turned his head towards the den and yipped.
More wolves emerged, one after the other, until there were twelve of them altogether. They sniffed at Mr Snuffles, who sniffed at them in return and made happy snorting noises. Then Pack Leader loped off into the trees. The wolves ran after him. So did Mr Snuffles, and he had his curly tail wagging and his head in the air.
He was going to live. My legs went weak with relief, and I hung onto Daniel’s arm to keep my balance. He put one of his hands over mine and said, “It wasn’t your fault. Pen volunteered to go, and she knew it could be dangerous.”
That didn’t mean it wasn’t my fault. Didn’t Daniel see how one thing had created the next thing? I’d told Jules his choices mattered, and Jules had said he wanted to take Pen to the city. Then I’d looked in my map and discovered that Pen was the second person whose choices were important, so I’d talked to Pen too. Now Pen was dead.
“If I hadn’t Seen what I Saw, and told Jules, he wouldn’t have led me to Pen. If I hadn’t told Pen what I Saw, she wouldn’t have gone to the city. If she hadn’t gone to the city, she’d still be alive.”
“None of that makes it your fault.”
He still didn’t understand. “Pen’s choices didn’t matter before I talked to Jules. But once he said he was taking her with him, they did matter. I am a person who changes things.”
“We’re all people who change things.”
“I am the person who changes things and people die.”
He shook his head. “You are the person who changes things and people live.”
That was true also. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t the person who changed things at all.”
“Don’t say that!”
“Why not?”
He shifted until he was standing in front of me. “Because extraordinary people shouldn’t wish to be ordinary.”
I glanced up at him. “Maybe I’m not extraordinary.”
“You are.”
I’d never heard anyone sound more certain about anything. Not even Ash, when she said the world was real. It must be right. I didn’t want it to be right. “I don’t want to look any more, Daniel! I don’t want to see any more bad things and I don’t want any more bad things to happen because of me.”
“It isn’t because of you.” He reached out to push my curls back from my face, cupping my jaw in his hands. “None of this is because of you.” Then his attention was caught by something behind me, and his gaze flicked upwards. “Georgie,” he whispered. “Look up.”
I did. The trees were packed with mudlarks. I’d never seen so many together at once, and every one of them was fluffing out their black and white feathers and watching us out of beady black eyes. One began to sing. Another answered, and another, and another, until we were surrounded by warbling melodies.
Mudlarks were Penelope’s animal, and I didn’t speak mudlark any more than I spoke wolf. Only today I did. They were telling me that there was always danger. Storms came, and treecats, and lizards to steal eggs. What mattered was that while you were here, you sang. Penelope’s life had been a song, one that Mended lives. One that saved a life. But mudlarks always sang in duets. Someone had to answer her. I had to answer her. Extraordinary people shouldn’t wish to be ordinary. They shouldn’t wish for anyone else to be ordinary either. Pen hadn’t been and I couldn’t treat her as if she was ordinary now by making this about my choices when it had been about hers.
I sang out to the birds, “I understand.”
The mudlarks let out a few last, trilling notes and departed in a flurry of wings. They left behind silence and feathers that drifted downwards to fall onto Daniel and me, clinging to our hair and clothes.
Daniel took an especially pretty feather out of the air and tucked it behind my air. I found one for him and tucked it behind his.
We smiled at each other, and I said, “Extraordinary people need to map.”
THE PRIMES
ASHALA
I was going to meet the Primes. At – of all things! – an afternoon tea.
I’d rested all yesterday and through the night, and now I was going to be a surprise guest. Belle Willis hadn’t told the other Primes I was coming to their farewell get-together because she’d been worried some of them might refuse to turn up if she did. I only hoped they’d be willing to listen once I was in the room. But judging by the suspicious gazes directed at Connor, Ember, Jules and me as we walked through the Residence, people really were afraid. Some of the enforcers lining the hallways had even put their hands on the weapons at their hips as we passed by, and not all of them were carrying rhondarite swords. A few had streakers, and a hit from an energy weapon could kill us quick. It was so unfair, especially when the presence of our escort must have made it obvious we were supposed to be here. Belle Willis’s husband Henry was bouncing along ahead of us, a portly, dark-skinned man who radiated happiness and goodwill. I’d never met him before today, but he might just be the most cheerful person on the entire planet. Not even the hostility coming from the enforcers diminished the optimism that clung to him like a fluffy cloud.
We rounded a corner, turning onto yet another hallway. It was quiet here. We’d given Nicky the job of looking after Wentworth because if there was any troubl
e her life was more important than anyone’s, since she was the one who could keep everyone alive. But there’d been no trouble so far, and it seemed like the biggest thing going on around here today was this afternoon tea. And we had to be getting near to it, because we’d been walking for ages. Ember must have been thinking that too, because she leaned in to whisper, “Do you remember everything I told you? About the Primes?”
“Yes,” I answered, and waited. She was going to ask if I was sure.
A few seconds of silence, then, “Are you sure?”
I whispered back. “Prime Peter Grant is the ‘popularist’, and Prime Ian McAllister is the ‘true believer’.” Or that was what Ember called them. Grant had only narrowly won the Mangrove City Prime election, and his opinions shifted depending on whatever he thought would help him get re-elected. Prime McAllister only cared about the Balance, and while he’d once thought abilities were a threat to it, rumour had it that he wasn’t so sure any more. “And,” I concluded, “Prime Isabella Lopez is – well, the boss of Spinifex City. Which means she’s all about the taffa.”
Taffa beans could be brewed into a tea that resulted in vivid dreams. Spinifex City people believed those dreams were glimpses into the past or the future or worlds beyond this one. The entire city was so obsessed with taffa that nothing else really mattered there, including abilities. In fact, there were plenty of Illegals working for Ember’s brother Leo, who ran the taffa trade. Whether Lopez supported me today or not wasn’t going to have anything to do with Illegals being a threat or unnatural or anything like that. All she’d be concerned about was the potential impact of any upheaval in the world on taffa production.
Henry turned another corner. We followed, and found ourselves in a short hallway this time, one that led to a large door. A crowd of enforcers were standing in front of it; that had to be where the Primes were. Henry stopped a few metres away from them and swung around to face me. “You can go in, Ashala. Belle is expecting you.” He cast a glance at the distinctly unfriendly-looking enforcers, and stepped closer to add in a low voice, “Don’t let anyone or anything shake your confidence. What you have to say is important.” He beamed. “And I know you’ll do wonderfully well!”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I smiled as much of a smile as I had in me – which wasn’t much with the wound of Pen’s death still so raw and aching. Then I looked from Connor to Em and finally to Jules. I didn’t say anything and nor did they. None of us needed words to know that, whatever happened, we were in this together and always would be. Even Jules, my Yellowcrest, who wanted us all to fly away home.
Henry gestured to the enforcers, and one of them leaned across to open the door. The rest shuffled aside to allow me to pass. I drew in a steadying breath, and strode into a large, bright space. We were on the second storey, high enough so that the big windows in the wall opposite gave a view across rolling gardens to the cliff edge and the sea. The Primes were sitting in the centre of the room, gathered about a low table that sat on top of a chequered blue and white rug. Three of them were staring at me in surprise, and since they were each dressed in the colour of their cities, it was easy to identify who was who. The thin blond man in Mangrove-City-brown had to be Prime Grant. The giant with the bristling black beard in Fern-City-green was Prime McAllister. That left Prime Lopez, round and golden-skinned and reclining in a pool of Spinifex-City-yellow robes and long dark hair.
Willis patted the empty chair beside hers. “Ashala! I’m so happy you could come. Please join us.”
I shut the door, walking across to settle into the chair. Then I smiled across the table at the other Primes, hoping to make a good first impression. Lopez smiled back. McAllister looked thoughtful. And Grant … okay, this guy is afraid of me. He’d gone all shaky and pale.
“Ashala Wolf?” he gasped. “This girl is a killer! I insist she be removed from here at once!”
Lopez waved a chubby hand in his direction. “Oh, do stop being so dramatic, Peter. Belle’s already said that it was Terence who was behind the attack on the station.”
Willis nodded. “I can personally vouch for Ashala’s innocence, and she’s here now at my invitation. I thought the least we could do is meet with her, since she came so far to see us.”
Grant looked at Prime McAllister. “Ian? Surely you won’t stand for this!”
McAllister rumbled, “If Belle says the girl didn’t do it, then I believe her. Besides, I’ve got a question I’d like the answer to.” He edged forwards, studying me out of fierce grey eyes. “I accept you didn’t personally cause that explosion. But that doesn’t change the fact that abilities were used to cause pain and terror and death. So what I’d like to know is this: do you consider yourself to be part of the Balance?”
Of course I do, you– yeah, that wasn’t the right answer. Instead I said simply, “Yes.”
“Why?”
Because I am as human as you. Except that wasn’t right either, because this wasn’t about how I felt about myself. It was about how he felt about me and about anyone with an ability. Ember had said once that a belief that any person was less than human was evidence of the inhumanity of those who held the belief, not those who were subjected to it. And after the way I’d seen people react to us today – even after Connor had saved all those lives – I knew that for as long as we had to prove we deserved to be treated the same as everyone else, we never would be.
So I tried something else. “I was once held prisoner by Chief Administrator Neville Rose, back when he ran Detention Centre 3. Everyone knows the kinds of things he did. Running a secret rhondarite mine, and hoarding energy weapons, and experimenting on detainees.” And on me. I stared right at McAllister, holding his gaze with mine. “He used his power to cause pain and terror and death. And just because it wasn’t you who did any of those things doesn’t change the fact that it was a Citizen who was responsible.”
Grant let out a short, humourless laugh. “Hear that? She just compared Ian to a criminal.”
“And,” Willis put in, “Ian just compared Ashala to a killer.”
I shook my head. “That’s not what I meant! What I’m saying is, it’s ridiculous to try to make the comparison. What should matter is who each of us are, and whether we care about people and the animals and the earth. And the people who don’t, the ones who want to cause imbalance – they don’t need an ability to do it.”
There was a small silence. Finally, McAllister said, “That’s … an interesting perspective.”
Interesting was good. I hoped. And from the way his bushy eyebrows had drawn together in thought, it seemed like he was genuinely considering what I’d said. That didn’t get me anywhere with the other two, but then, I doubted anything would change Grant’s mind. The station attack had clearly scared him, and if he wasn’t prepared to believe Prime Willis when she told him I hadn’t done it, there wasn’t much chance of him listening to me. As for Lopez – she was watching McAllister and Grant with cat-like amusement, enjoying seeing McAllister challenged and Grant at odds with the other Primes. None of this mattered to her in the way I needed it to matter, and I wasn’t sure there was a way to solve that.
I was trying to think of something I could say that would persuade her to get involved when the door swung open. A short, beige-robed administrator entered, pushing a trolley that held a teapot, cups, plates and a bunch of miniature cakes. Afternoon tea had arrived, and as the trolley rolled past me to Willis, I caught a whiff of a cinnamony scent. I frowned. I knew that smell. It wasn’t tea in that pot.
Willis murmured her thanks to the administrator and he left, closing the door behind him. Lopez straightened, gazing at the trolley with more interest than she’d shown in anything else so far today. She’d caught the scent of cinnamon too. “Is that taffa?”
Surprisingly, it was Grant who answered. “Yes.”
Everyone looked at him. “It was a gift from an old friend,” he explained. “Some rare beans, I understand – I really don’t know anything about taf
fa, but I thought everyone might like to share it with me. I took the liberty of asking your kitchen staff to serve it for us, Belle. I do hope you don’t mind.”
“Perfectly all right, Peter,” Willis replied. “I’m sure we’ll all enjoy it.” She poured out the taffa, handing everyone a cup of the rich, dark liquid and a cake. I accepted both, because I didn’t want to offend anyone by refusing, only there was no way I was drinking that taffa. The last time I’d had the stuff it’d given me a horribly vivid nightmare about Neville Rose standing on a hill of bodies. I knew it wasn’t taffa alone that caused the dreams – it was the ancient cat spirit Starbeauty who was truly responsible, and she was a long way away in Spinifex City – but I wasn’t taking any chances. With my ability, the last thing I needed was any added complications with my dreams.
Lopez took a sip, and blinked in surprise. “This is a rare blend!”
“There you are then,” Grant said. “The taffa has Isabella’s seal of approval. Enjoy, everybody!”
He seemed to have cheered up. Probably looking forward to getting out of here as soon as the taffa’s drunk and the cakes are eaten. The Primes sipped their taffa, and I pretended to while I tried to come up with a way to get rid of the stuff. There was a large pot plant by one of the windows – maybe I could pour it into there? I was planning a casual stroll across the room when a sudden sense of alarm jolted through me. Connor?
There were shouts from outside, and the sizzling sound of streaker fire.
I slammed down my cup and leaped to my feet, sprinting for the door. Before I could get there a wave of electricity came surging in from underneath and shot upwards, covering the door and spreading out to form a hissing, crackling barrier across the walls. A spark flew out to hit my wrist and I staggered back as pain seared up my arm, leaving it tingling and numb. We were trapped and the only Illegal I’d ever seen who could do something like this was the minion who’d nearly killed the Prime four months ago. She was supposed to be locked up! Terence is here. The minions are here.
The Foretelling of Georgie Spider Page 8
