by Helen Brain
I hang my head.
“Have we not been kind to you, Ebba?” he asks, his voice echoing around the cavernous chamber. “Didn’t I rescue you from the jaws of death and elevate you? Didn’t I welcome you into my home, like a member of my own family, and feed you from my own table?”
“Yes, Your Righteousness.”
They stare at me like I’m nothing but a piece of dirt. Mr Frye looks disappointed too. He shakes his head as the High Priest continues.
“Is this the way you thank Prospiroh? By breaking the laws He has set up for your own protection? You’re a child, Ebba. What do you know about governing a settlement like Table Island?”
“Nothing, Your Righteousness.” I’m picking at my cuticles, wishing he would tell me what I’ve done. I couldn’t bear it if Micah gets taken away. Has Hal told him? Am I going to lose Micah for a second time?
A tear runs down my cheek and plops onto the floor.
“And yet you break the law by bringing a diseased old woman into the settlement!” General de Groot bellows. “Do you realise she could have inflicted a plague on all of us? We could all have died.”
I look up quickly. Is that what this is about? He doesn’t know about Micah?
The High Priest is scowling at me. “Where would you be without us, Ebba?” he says. “Would you like us all to die? Is that what you wanted?”
“No, Your Righteousness.”
“Perhaps you don’t want to be here in the city,” General de Groot says. “Perhaps you want to go back into the colony, to your sabenzis. Is that it?”
“No.” I can barely whisper. The thought is too awful. To be back underground again, with no sky, no trees, no Isi. No Micah.
“Perhaps you want to leave the settlement then. Is that it? You want to be exiled to the mainland.”
I’m choking up. “Please, Your Righteousness,” I beg, “please forgive me. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think.”
The High Priest narrows his eyes and stares at me for a long minute. I feel a centimetre high. I break into a cold sweat. If they throw me out of Table Island I’ll have no one. I’ll be totally alone, with nothing.
He and General de Groot confer. I can’t hear what they’re saying. Lucas taps his quill on the table and glares at me. Even Mr Frye is shaking his head as he looks at me.
If only someone was on my side. Then I hear Clementine’s voice in my head again. “Ebba,” she whispers, “the Goddess loves you. The Goddess will help you. All you have to do is ask.”
Help me, Goddess, I pray. The words creep out of the cracks in my heart. Please, Theia. Save me and save Micah. If you save us I will devote myself to you forever. I will do everything you ask of me. I promise I will take on the sacred task and I will do whatever I must to prevent the second Calamity.
I wait.
There is silence.
The room feels like a marble tomb closing in, about to crush me.
Mr Frye puts his hand up. “Your Righteousness,” he says. “May I say something?”
The High Priest peers at him from under his heavy eyelids. “What is it, Fergis?”
“I take some responsibility for Miss den Eeden’s lapse,” he says, putting his hand over his heart. “I should have spent more time teaching her our ways. She’s very young, and she needs more guidance than I realised.”
The High Priest looks at him for a long moment then steeples his hands. “Hmmm. You may have a point. What do you say, Miss den Eeden?”
“I’ll try harder, Your Righteousness,” I plead. “Please give me another chance.”
“Mr Frye,” he says at last, “you are going to take a more active part in Miss den Eeden’s education?”
“Yes, Your Righteousness,” Mr Frye says. “My sincere apologies for my lapse in this matter. I’ve been so busy, what with the –”
“Yes, yes, yes,” the High Priest interrupts. “Spare me the details. You may go, Miss den Eeden, but next time, you won’t get off so leniently. If you break the law again, I will be forced to reconsider whether we want you here in our settlement at all.”
I’m almost in tears. “Thank you, Your Righteousness,” I say, as Captain Atherton gets up, ready to escort me out of the chamber. Thank the Goddess it’s over. I can go home. Home to Micah.
“One last thing …” The High Priest’s hooded eyes seem to search my clothing. “Before you leave, you are required to undergo ritual cleansing. Captain, take her to the cleansing chamber.”
A FIERCE MIDDLE-AGED woman with beefy arms is waiting in a small anteroom with a tiled floor. “Undress,” she snaps. “Put your clothes here.” She points to a slatted wooden bench against one wall.
“Undress? Everything?”
“The whole caboodle. Jewellery too.”
She watches me while I take off my robe and undergarments. The last thing I take off is the dove pendant. I put it on top of my pile of clothes and stand in front of her, stark naked, trying to cover myself with my arms.
She opens a door and a cloud of steam pours out into the room.
They’re going to boil me alive, I think. She’s going to torture me. “No, please …” I beg. “Don’t hurt me.”
“Shut up,” she says, shoving me inside. “It’s just a steam room.”
She shuts the door and leaves me there with no light, just the glow from the fire, and the sizzle of the water on hot stones. I huddle down on the bench, wondering what she’s going to do next. Soon my body is running with perspiration. Suddenly the door opens, and she throws a bucket of cold water over me. I scream.
She grabs a towel, and starts rubbing my back, under my arms, my legs, my chest. “Disgusting,” she says, showing me the grimy towel. “You are filthy.” Her lips are pursed.
She scrubs me so hard my skin is red and raw. I feel like I’ve been sandpapered.
Then she demands, “Take down your hair. I’m supposed to cleanse your scalp, though why they’re sending someone with witch’s hair to be cleansed is beyond me.”
“Um, um …” I mutter, trying to think.
“Hurry up!” Her hands are on her hips. She wipes the sweat off her hairy lip with her forearm. “Haven’t got all day. Get moving.” She flicks the towel against my leg.
“Um …”
“What is it?”
Then I know what to say. They’re so scared that Sarie brought an illness into the settlement. “I … I caught lice from the old lady I helped. She was from Boat Bay. I let her sleep in my bed.”
She jumps back like she’s been slapped. “That’s disgusting!” she shouts. She’s already started scratching her head. “Get out of here. Go on, scat.”
I get my clothes on again as fast as I can. By the time I’m dressed she’s already called Captain Atherton. “Lice …” she snaps. “I’m not combing through that hair for nits.”
The Captain looks at me like I’m filth. He marches me out of a back door and into the waiting carriage.
“Don’t rest your head on the seat,” he snarls as he closes the door behind me.
I’m travelling alone. He won’t risk being in the carriage with me. As we drive away I remember the dove pendant. It wasn’t where I left it, on my pile of clothes. Someone removed it while I was in the steam room.
CHAPTER 8
When I finally reach home, exhausted, Aunty Figgy is waiting for me at the front door.
“Oh, praise Theia,” she exclaims. “You’re safe. I was so worried about you. I prayed the whole time you were gone.”
I hug her tightly. “Thank you.” I mean it. “Thank you for everything.”
I’m really shaken after my experience with the brutal shrine committee.
I’m worn down by the burden of being elevated, of owning so much, of managing staff and trying to please everyone. It’s like I’ve been thrown into a deep pool without being taught to swim. I can keep my head above water for a while, but I’m going to drown. It’s just a matter of time.
Micah comes around the side of the house to bring in the horse
s for the night. He waves to me. “Miss Ebba, can you give me a hand, please?”
I run down to help him. I want to tell him how awful it was at the shrine, to fall in his arms and feel him holding me. But I don’t dare. Shorty might be watching, looking for things to report me for.
“How did it go?” he asks calmly as he opens the gate and we cross the meadow to where the horses are grazing.
“He shouted at me for bringing Sarie into the settlement. He told me he was disappointed in me, that I’m a disgrace, and that if I’m not careful they’ll either kick me out of the settlement, or send me back into the colony.” I grab his sleeve. “Micah, I can’t go back there. I can’t. You’ve got to help me. Tell me what to do.”
He gently untangles my fingers from his shirt. “Ebba, calm down.”
“What do you mean calm down? You weren’t there. Afterwards they made me take a ritual bath. They –”
“Ebba, I know you’re upset. But you need to control yourself. You can’t just fall apart because the authorities shouted at you.”
“You don’t know what it’s like.”
He looks at me quizzically, and I remember. He was physically thrown out of the colony. He knows what it’s like to be in the worst possible trouble with the authorities.
“Sorry.” I take a deep breath and unclench my hands.
“You’ve had a bad day, but you’re home again, safe. You survived. You’re much stronger than you think.”
“I don’t feel strong.”
“That’s because you haven’t been tested. In the colony they told you what to do, and you did it. Up here it’s different. You have power.”
“What power? I’m only sixteen.”
“You’re underestimating yourself. You’re extremely powerful. But if you don’t know you have power, you can’t use it.”
“You mean the amulet?” I ask, and instantly regret it. He must think I’m crazy to believe Aunty Figgy’s stories.
“Politically. Politically, you’re very powerful. You’re very wealthy. You own a lot of land, growing a commodity that everyone needs. And you can decide – do you accept the political status quo, or do you try to change it?”
“Change it? Me?”
“Yes, you.”
I’m not sure I like this new hard-nosed, focused Micah. I prefer the one who kissed me in the pool.
He looks me straight in the eye. “Ebba, there’s a long, hard battle ahead. You can play an important part. You can fight for a more just society, just like your mother did.”
He throws the halter over the big chestnut mare’s head, and pats her neck. “Come on, girl, time to get you back to your stable. Ebba, you lead her.”
I step back. “Me?”
“Come on,” he says. “Being scared won’t kill you.” He hands me the reins.
Why can’t he be all loving again, instead of lecturing me about politics? The horse is huge, and she nuzzles my shoulder. I flinch.
“Just relax,” Micah says. “Don’t let her sense your fear. Act like you do this every day. Come on.”
My first few steps are tentative, but she follows willingly around the side of the house, past the kitchen garden to the stables. I finally get her into her stall.
Shorty comes walking past, whistling. “Hello there, Miss Ebba,” he says. “Did you bring in that horse all by yourself? You want to be careful. My aunt nearly lost her foot once. She was at the market and a huge stallion kicked her. You’re just a girl. You should leave the horses for Leonid or one of us men.”
“Shut up, Shorty,” I snap, shoving the bolt home on the stable door.
“Sorry, miss.”
When I see his face, I feel guilty for a moment, until I remember that he shopped me to the High Priest. The bastard.
THAT NIGHT MICAH wakes me by tapping on my window.
“Ebba,” he whispers. “Are you awake? Can you come outside?”
Happiness zings around my heart. I run out onto the dark stoep.
“Are you sure we’re safe?” I whisper. “If Shorty finds us, he’ll report me. The High Priest said –”
“Relax. Aunty Figgy made them a nightcap. They won’t wake for hours. Sit down.”
I join him on the step.
“Isn’t this fantastic?” he says, leaning back and looking up into the star-flocked sky. “I never get tired of it.”
“Me neither. Remember how we used to think about the sky all the time in the colony? I never imagined the stars would be so bright.” Is he going to kiss me again? He looks like he wants to. Maybe I should just keep my distance from now on, and make sure we’re never alone together. I’m his boss. If we’re caught they’ll punish him far worse than me.
“Why were you so horrible to me when I came home today?” I ask, shifting slightly away from him. “I was miserable, and you gave me a lecture about politics.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. He lifts a curl of my hair and twirls it around his finger. “I was just trying to protect you. If the High Priest finds out about us …”
There’s an “us”? My heart leaps with happiness. He sees us as a couple. “But we’d be together,” I say, putting my hand on his knee. I look up into his face and imagine a life where we could be together, in the open. No hiding. “Can’t we leave? We could make a new life in the mainland, maybe get a small piece of land …”
He shakes his head. “My place is here, in Table Island. We will be fine if we’re extra careful.”
“I’m trying to be extra careful,” I say, “but the High Priest is watching everything I do. And Hal’s around here all the time. If I tell him I don’t want to see him, they’ll get suspicious.” The thought makes me want to be sick. “What am I going to do, Micah? He wants me to come and live with his family in the compound. He says he wants us to be together forever.”
“Pah,” Micah spits. “That pampered little mommy’s boy. Listen, Ebba,” he says, taking my hand. “You can manage this. You’ve just got to be cunning. The High Priest thinks you’re an immature young girl with no life experience. So let him believe that.”
I frown. “You mean lie to him? Isn’t that wrong? Isn’t that putting me on the same level as him?”
“You must do whatever you can to protect yourself. That’s not wrong, it’s sensible. Pretend to be the innocent, gullible girl – it’s a brilliant disguise.”
“So,” I think about this for a bit, “if I were a gullible girl, I’d be … I’d be trying to ask his forgiveness.”
“Exactly, and to Hal.” His voice tightens. “You don’t care about Hal, do you, Ebba? Are you in love with him? Because I think he’s in love with you.”
“No, not at all.” I look him straight in the eye. “It’s you, Micah. It’s always been you. It’s just that I’m your boss …”
He scowls. “You mean I’m not good enough for you?”
“Of course I don’t. But if we’re caught, you’re the one who’ll bear the brunt of the punishment. They’ll whip you again. Maybe even kill you. I should leave you alone – for your own good.”
He takes his hand off mine. “If that’s what you want.” His voice is cold.
“Of course it’s not what I want.” My voice cracks. “I’ve been in love with you forever … I love you, Micah.”
He looks at me closely. “I thought maybe you fancied Leonid and that’s why you and Jasmine are fighting now.”
“Leonid!” I snort. “He’s my half-brother.”
“Your half-brother?” Then he stares at me, amazed. “You’re Darius Maas’s daughter?”
“Apparently. I don’t look much like Leonid.”
“No,” Micah says, “you don’t look like Leonid, but you do look a lot like your father.”
“Do you know him?” I say eagerly. “Have you met him?”
He shakes his head. “Nobody knows where he is. He disappeared soon after the Calamity. He got everyone safely out of the caves on Silvermine Island and organised the construction of the Boat Bay island from the debris l
ying around. Then one day he was just gone. Disappeared. I’ve seen a picture of him, though. You have the same mouth, and the same shit-stirrer chin.”
“Thank you,” I say, strangely flattered.
“You’ve got pretty incredible lineage, you know?” he says. “Your parents are both major resistance heroes.” Then he takes my hands and gives a wry grin. “So you’re sure there’s no one else around that you fancy?”
I reach up and pull his face down to mine. “I’m a hundred percent sure.” And I kiss him.
PRETENDING THAT I’M not totally in love takes all my self-control. I have to play the naïve girl so that the High Priest and the council don’t suspect anything. I have to get back into Hal’s good books, and pretend I love him, even though it now makes me cringe.
I have to make Shorty believe it too. But it’s hard.
After breakfast I’m in the kitchen garden talking to Shorty about the number of eggs we’re managing to sell per week when I see Micah walking towards us with a wheelbarrow.
A huge grin attaches itself to my face and I can’t wipe it off. Shorty looks at me strangely, then at Micah, who is whistling a song and pretending he hasn’t seen me.
“What’s so funny, miss?” he asks, with that half-grin people get when they’re waiting to hear a joke. “Why are you laughing?”
“It’s … it’s just that Mike has a really strange walk,” I say, trying to think of something, anything. “Haven’t you noticed? He walks like a hobbit.”
“A hobbit?”
“Funny creatures, hairy feet? A really old kinetika?”
“Ah,” he says sagely, rubbing his fluffy head. “Can’t say I’ve seen any kinetikas.”
Micah gives me a dirty look from across the aubergines and I want to laugh. I turn my back on him. “Hal’s got a beautiful walk, hasn’t he?” I say to Shorty.
At suppertime I ask Aunty Figgy for a big basket. “Tomorrow morning I need you to get up early,” I tell her, “and pick the best vegetables. And could you bake a couple of your loaves of bread? I want to send a hamper of our best produce to the High Priest as an apology.”
She’s surprised, but she doesn’t say anything. After supper she brings me fresh eggs, butter and three bottles of honey, and packs them into the basket. Then she gets to work on the bread. As the workers are leaving, I ask Shorty to stay for a moment.
