The Rising Tide

by Helen Brain

“Yes, Ebba. We’re your sabenzis. And what about Alexia? She adores you, and she’s your own flesh and blood,” Letti says as we go back inside.

  “So is Leonid,” Fez adds, shaking his head.

  But I’ve thought it all through. I trust Micah with my life, and I know he’d look after all the others if something were to happen to me.

  Which it won’t. And anyway, I want to show him how much I love him.

  Just then the colony girls come marching down the driveway, ready to start work.

  “There are more guards today,” Fez says, peering through the window. “There’s at least fifteen. And the girls look furious.”

  I twist the amulet between my fingers, wondering how I’m ever going to tell them that I’ve found it.

  NOT THAT IT SEEMs to matter – when I go out a few minutes later to say good morning, no one will look me in the face. As soon as I turn my back, the angry muttering starts, and the guards yell at the girls to be silent.

  It’s not much better inside, where everyone already knows about the will and the necklace. My sabenzis are cold towards me. Jasmine is angry, Fez disapproving, and Letti’s response is the hardest to bear: She’s disappointed. I can’t bear to see their faces, so I go out to the kitchen garden and try to keep myself busy.

  Aunty Figgy shakes her head when she comes out to hang the washing and finds me picking herbs. “That was a very foolish thing to do, Ebba. You’re too trusting. Greenhaven is sacred land – you can’t just leave it to any Tom, Dick or Harry.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “It doesn’t matter much, does it? The world’s going to explode if I don’t find the other three amulets in the next few weeks, so there won’t be any farm to inherit anyway. Just dust floating around in a great bowl of nothing.”

  “Don’t underestimate the power of your ancestors, Ebba.”

  Micah comes up to the house then, and thank the Goddess he’s the only one who isn’t upset with me. He leans over to kiss me and notices the necklace immediately.

  “Where was it?”

  “Behind the door, under my clothes. But I didn’t leave it there, I swear it. Someone moved it.”

  He takes my hands and looks into my eyes. “Of course Jaline moved it. That’s why she ran when they accused her.”

  “But she died, Micah.” The tears spring into my eyes. “She died because of me.”

  “She died because she was a thief,” he says. “That’s what happens when you take what doesn’t belong to you.”

  A guard comes past so I drop my voice. “How long will Samantha-Lee still be here? I’m worried because they’ve brought in even more guards. Can’t she go home soon?”

  His hand runs up and down my forearm. “Just a few more days.”

  “But what’s she doing? How come I never see her?”

  “Ebba.” He pulls me into an embrace. “I can’t tell you. But her work is nearly done, and then she’ll be gone, and you won’t see her again.” He rubs his nose against mine. “Promise.”

  I can’t resist him when he’s being so adorable. My anger melts.

  “Okay. But make her hurry up.”

  TWO DAYS LATER, I’m on my way to the office after my morning inspection of the lands when Alexia comes running through the kitchen garden to meet me.

  “Can I talk to you?” she asks.

  “Sure.” We weave our way between the onions and leeks and find an upturned wheelbarrow to sit on. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s a bit difficult.” She looks up at me, her curls blowing in the wind. She brushes a lock behind her ear. “Don’t be cross. Promise?”

  My stomach starts to knot. “What is it? Just tell me.”

  She bites her lip. “It’s about Micah.”

  Her eyes have gone dark, and she is looking at me with … It takes me a second to work out that her expression is one of pity.

  “What? Just tell me.”

  “I was feeding the chickens earlier. One of the hens – the speckled brown one that likes to hide away – she was missing, but I know she likes the potting shed.” Alexia points to the wooden shed at the end of the kitchen garden. “So I went to look for her there, and … er …”

  She checks my face for my reaction.

  “And Micah was in there. With Samantha-Lee. They were … kissing.”

  “Rubbish,” I say, standing up and glaring at her. “I don’t believe you. Micah loves me.”

  She goes pale. “I’m not making it up, Ebba, I promise you.”

  “This is about the will, isn’t it? You’re angry because you and Leonid aren’t going to inherit Greenhaven, so now you’re saying horrible things about Micah.” I can’t believe it. White hot anger blurs my vision,. I feel like slapping her.

  “I really don’t care about the will,” she says with a sob in her voice. “I only care about you. And Micah’s messing you around, Ebba. He’s not who you think he is.”

  “You know, Alexia,” I say coldly. “I’ve had enough of you maligning Micah every chance you get. You’ve got no proof. Nobody else sees him making out with her – only you. I think you’re jealous.”

  “Is that what you think? Truly?”

  A tear rolls down her cheek, but I ignore it. She’s just crying to make me feel sorry for her.

  “You know, maybe your working here isn’t such a good idea,” I snap. “Leonid is going to the harbour tomorrow morning. Maybe you should go back with him.”

  I’m waiting for her to make some cutting remark, but she nods and brushes the tears off her face. “I think I will.”

  I’VE CALMED DOWN by the evening, and I look for her to apologise. But she’s already packed her things, and she won’t change her mind.

  “I can’t stay here anymore,” is all she’ll say.

  The next morning at dawn, hearing the wagon clattering down the driveway, I get out of bed and cross the room to the window. Is she really leaving? She’s perched next to her brother up front, and my heart sinks.

  Someone else is up, because I hear footsteps on the gravel as the sound of the wagon fades. Samantha-Lee and Micah are walking around the side of the house, heading for the kitchen. I sneak down the passage and listen outside the kitchen door.

  He’s getting her breakfast. He’s starting the fire in the range and I hear the clang as he puts the lid back on the kettle.

  Something has been bothering me: What did Jaline mean when she mentioned the old wine cellar just before she was shot? I’m sure I saw Micah stiffen when she said that. But nobody uses the old building. I’ve never actually been inside it. I trust Micah with all my heart, but he might change if Samantha-Lee gets her claws into him. I have to know what she’s been doing here all day.

  It’ll take a while for Micah to get the fire going and to boil the water, so I sneak back to my room, grab an oil lamp and walk outside into the bracing morning air. With Isi at my heels, I set off through the vineyards to the old wine cellar.

  It’s a big building with a round roof and huge arched doors that open onto the driveway and rows of derelict vines. The doors creak as I push them open, and I look around curiously. I’m in a huge shed. Vast metal tanks stand on platforms along one wall, with pipes running along the ceiling leading into each tank. Rows of old wine barrels lie on their sides, piled up so high they reach above my head. There’s a lingering scent of fermentation.

  There’s a second room at the end, and when I go in, I see more wine barrels, hundreds of them, stacked on top of each other in rows.

  I’m looking for a sign that Micah and Samantha-Lee have been here together. My brain suspects what my heart won’t allow me to feel … What if they are more than just comrades in the struggle? I swallow the lump in my throat. I don’t want to think about it, but the suspicion is eating away at me like a worm in an apple.

  What if Alexia is right?

  I don’t want to know because I can’t imagine what I’ll do if I find out it’s true.

  Then Isi’s ears prick forward and her nose twitches. She trots off in
to a gloomy corner. In the half light I can see her white tail wagging, and then she disappears. She’s back a few moments later, chewing something.

  “Drop it, girl,” I say, grabbing her collar.

  She looks up at me with a look that says, “No way.”

  “Come on, girl. Drop it.” Her eyes go dark but she opens her jaws and a crust of bread falls out.

  Bread? I pick it up. It’s a few days old – it’s Aunty Figgy’s bread from the Greenhaven kitchen, I’m sure.

  “Okay, Isi, go find more,” I tell her, pointing at the corner.

  She wags her tail and trots off, and I follow her. There’s a tiny gap between the last barrel and the wall, and I squeeze into a narrow passage, glad I thought to bring a lamp. The passage opens into a room that’s been created by removing some barrels. From the outside you’d never know it was here. It’s lined with crates, and there’s a foam mattress and blankets in one corner. I squat on my haunches and inspect the bed.

  Who’s been sleeping here?

  Isi is sniffing around, wagging her tail. There’s an old biscuit tin next to the mattress, with an oil lamp resting on it. I prise open the lid. It’s got a hairbrush inside, a change of underwear and a familiar-looking hairclip with red roses on it.

  Samantha-Lee. I’ve seen her wear it. It would look stupid on anyone else, but on her it just looks sexy.

  Why is she sleeping here? She’s meant to be in the hayloft.

  I lift the cloth off one of the crates. Inside are bits of metal, all the same. I take one out and weigh it in my hand. I’ve never seen anything like it before.

  The next crate has more metal of a different shape; the third one has wooden handles.

  Handles for rifles.

  Are these gun components? I hold up the lamp against the side of the crate. I know these crates – they’re what Leonid uses to take Greenhaven produce to market. I thought they were coming back empty …

  In a flash I know what they’re doing. Leonid’s returning from the market with dismantled weapons, and somebody on Greenhaven is assembling them. That’s what Samantha-Lee’s doing here.

  My heart is pounding as I check every crate. More of the same. On a hunch I lift the lid on one of the wine barrels standing against the back. It’s packed with rifles. There must be twenty at least, fully assembled.

  Deadly weapons, on my farm, without my knowledge. Without my permission. If the general finds out about these, I’ll be executed for treason.

  How could Micah not tell me?

  Maybe he doesn’t know?

  But he does know.

  So did Jaline.

  And she could have told the guards, who would have been here in a flash, searching every inch of this building. Micah let her die rather than reveal what was going on in here. Her blood is on his hands too.

  I lean against a barrel, feeling sick. This isn’t the Micah I know.

  Suddenly I hear the door creak. Someone’s coming. I look around desperately for a place to hide, but there’s nowhere – the barrels are packed tightly together, and I can’t climb up them either. Oh Goddess, don’t let it be one of the guards.

  I crouch in the corner, heart thudding, one hand on Isi’s collar, hoping she keeps quiet.

  My imagination goes wild as I huddle there, waiting, waiting for the barrels to be pushed aside, for a rifle to be pointed at me, to be shot dead just as Jaline was. I’m trying to sit still but I’m shaking.

  The footsteps come closer. I hardly dare to look up. Isi is watching, ears pricked.

  Then she wags her tail.

  It’s not a guard. It’s worse.

  It’s Micah.

  I STAND UP to face him and I’m shaking so much I have to steady myself against the sides of the barrel behind me. The light is behind him, and I can’t make out his expression.

  Suddenly Dr Iris is here too, and she’s scolding me as usual. Little mouse, she snaps. This is one of your employees. You’re a den Eeden. Behave like it.

  “Who do these guns belong to?” I ask, stepping forward. My voice is strained, my mouth dry. “It’s Samantha-Lee, isn’t it? Is that what she’s doing here – assembling guns?”

  He doesn’t say anything. I take another step forward.

  “You think it’s okay to have an illegal activity going on here, on my property without telling me? Because I don’t.”

  “Ebba,” he says quietly, “I couldn’t tell you.” His eyes are full of caring. “I was protecting you.”

  “What were you thinking, transporting guns in my wagon?” My voice rises, and I grab his arm. “What else don’t I know?”

  “Keep it together, Ebba,” he says quietly.

  There’s marching just outside – the guards are bringing the colony girls for work. Have they heard me? I bite my lip.

  Micah waits till they have passed before he says, “Babe, let me explain.”

  I sit on the barrel and look him in the eye. “Okay. Talk.”

  “We’ve been using the wagon, yes.”

  I suck in a breath. “You put Leonid in danger?”

  “Leonid has been in no danger. If they stopped and searched the wagon, which they never do, and they managed to find the secret compartment, which they wouldn’t, all they would find are a few bits of metal – easily explained on a farm with lots of machinery.”

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “For years. Since your aunt’s time.”

  I shake my head, disbelieving. “My great-aunt knew about this?”

  “Of course. She was the person who suggested using this cellar.”

  “But it’s my farm, Micah. You should have told me. You’ve been treating me like a stupid child.”

  “Babe …” His voice is gentle, and he leans forward, looking into my eyes. “I kept it secret to protect you. You don’t need to know this sort of thing. That way, if anything goes wrong, you can blame it on us.”

  “I don’t want to blame it on you. I want to be part of your decisions. I want to be in on what’s happening on my own farm. I want to know. I need to know.”

  He nods slowly. “I see that.”

  “And I’m not happy about having guns on Greenhaven. Can’t you find somewhere else to store them? It’s bad enough having the army tramping around here every day. I hate fighting and wars and weapons. Get someone to fetch them and take them to Boat City.”

  I check to see if he’s angry, but he’s smiling.

  He leans over and kisses me on the cheek.

  “I love it when you’re fierce,” he murmurs.

  Suddenly Isi growls. Someone else is coming. What if the guards have heard us and come looking? Oh Goddess, I can’t say I didn’t know about the guns if they catch me in their very hiding place.

  “Micah, are you in here?” Next thing, Samantha-Lee is standing in the doorway, looking down her perfectly straight nose at me.

  “Sam,” Micah says, “I’m just explaining to Ebba about the guns. She wants us to remove them from Greenhaven.”

  I try to be brisk and bristly, but I feel clumsy and stupid. “I’m not …” I start. “I’m not happy that you’re endangering everyone on the farm … There are so many guards …” My voice wobbles and fades, and I kick my heel against the barrel.

  She raises an eyebrow, folds her arms and taps one index finger against her bicep. “The way I see it, your involvement with the Syndicate has pissed off the general, so he’s taken transport jobs away from the Boat Bayers. And now hundreds of people are hungry, and will likely die this winter. Because of you.”

  I swallow. She’s like a snake with those almond shaped eyes that miss nothing. Isi is watching her, ears forward, the ridge on her back standing up.

  “So you don’t get to call the shots, sweetheart,” she snarls. “Not after the mess you’ve made.”

  When I speak again, my voice is tight. “Are you stockpiling weapons for a revolution?”

  “We’re stockpiling them so we can protect ourselves. When the time comes.”
<
br />   Micah slides in next to me and puts his arm around my shoulder. “Babe,” he says quietly, “do you see how you can fix this? You’re so powerful, and you can use that power to help us bring an end to this unjust system, so that the city can be open again to everyone. So that no one goes hungry while some live in luxury. It’s what your mother wanted, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, she wanted that. But I don’t know if she would have agreed to having weapons on the farm.”

  “We need a way of defending ourselves,” Micah says. “Things are only going to get worse. The general is a psychopath – he’s going to kill anyone who gets in his way. And don’t think he’s going to release the remaining workers in the bunker.”

  I stare at him. “You mean he’ll keep them inside even longer?”

  Samantha-Lee smirks. “That’s a very sweet idea, but no. He won’t keep them. Once they’re no longer useful, there will be genocide.”

  I lean against a barrel, not sure if my legs can hold me. “Genocide.”

  Micah tightens his grip on my shoulder. “We don’t want it to get to that. But we need to be ready if it does.”

  He nods to Samantha-Lee. “Sam, I need to talk to Ebba alone.”

  She tosses her hair over her shoulder and her eyes flicker. “Fine.”

  When she’s gone, Micah lifts my chin with his index finger. “You’re a hero. You don’t know it yet, but you are. You’re brave, and strong, and beautiful. You’re like Joan of Arc, or one of those olden-day warriors.” He cradles my head in his hands and kisses me, slow and deep and pulsing, and I begin to feel a tiny bit like the things he has called me – I am stronger, better, fiercer, braver through the power of his kiss.

  “Okay,” I say when at long last we pull apart. “Keep the guns here. But don’t let anyone else know. And I’m not happy about Leonid bringing them in the wagon – can you find some other way?”

  He nods. His eyes are shining. “No problem. I’ll get them dropped off on the beach.” He kisses me again. “Thank you, babe. Thank you.”

  Yes, he loves me.

  CHAPTER 18

  The colony workers are unhappy. They cluster together, talking in low voices, refusing to make eye contact, and I can see by their body language that it’s directed at me.