The Madness Project (The Madness Method)

by Bralick, J. Leigh

  Chapter 18 — Tarik

  I watched Derrin threading his way through the cots toward me, not a hint of a wound anywhere on his face, and not even a whisper of anger, either. He just came up and stood by my bed, and smiled when he saw Bugs curled up at the foot where he’d fallen asleep only moments before.

  “Shade, Kantian wants to see you,” he said softly.

  My stomach gave a little lurch. “Now?” I caught his gaze and added, a touch too viciously, “You’re not afraid I’ll punch him?”

  “I trust you have enough sense not to.”

  He backed a step and waited for me, so I drew a deep breath and stood up as quietly as I could to avoid waking Bugs. As we headed across the barracks under the curious eyes of the other skitters, Derrin turned to me and said,

  “Listen, I know you don’t like what happened to Alby Durb. It wasn’t my wish, either. But if you want to stay with us here, you have got to hold your tongue. Kantian doesn’t trust you yet, and any smart talk from you will land you outside the gate. I can’t vouch for your condition when you land, either.”

  “Understood,” I said.

  We came to a large room at the back of the barracks. It was much longer than it was wide, with a bed screened off at one end and a massive desk next to a furnace at the other. I got my first good look at Kantian as Derrin led me through the room. He sat behind his desk, the furnace flames casting the lines of his face into deep shadow. Even bent over a piece of writing paper he had a formidable air, and when he finally glanced up to acknowledge us, I felt suddenly small and exposed.

  “So,” he said, setting aside his pen and folding the bottom half of his paper up, as if I might have tried to read it from behind the desk. “You’re the Mask.”

  “Yes sir,” I said, keeping my voice as neutral as possible.

  “Heard you got our boy Durb’s name for Derrin here. Good on you for that.”

  I nodded, because I didn’t trust myself to answer without calling him something I’d regret.

  “Istian boy, are you?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “How are things going there, with the accord and all that hubbub?”

  I hesitated. “Honestly, I’m more interested in the politics around here,” I said, not breaking my gaze from his even when it got to be unbearable.

  “Are you?” Kantian smiled and straightened the edge of the paper. “I know you Istians like a good battle.”

  What is he getting at? I wondered. The conversation felt dangerous; I didn’t know how to escape it.

  I said, “That’s the rumor.”

  “Tomorrow you should have Anuk take you out and show you the walls.” I arched a brow, questioning, and he said, “I think things are about to get interesting here. Go see the walls, then come back and see me in the afternoon. I’ll have something for you to do tomorrow night.”

  “Yes sir,” I said, which made him smile again.

  “You can go.”

  * * * *

  “So, what exactly are you supposed to be showing me?” I asked Anuk as we threaded our way through the wet streets.

  “We know there are more people out there stirring for some change, not just us,” Anuk said. “Kantian believes that, with the right push, we could make a real difference in how this city runs, so.”

  I frowned, a faint uneasiness muttering in my thoughts. “How?” I asked.

  I struggled to keep up with his fast, sure stride, and for the hundredth time I cursed myself for making myself shorter instead of taller. These streets felt vaguely familiar to me, and all of a sudden I realized why. Anuk stopped in front of a brick wall, where the words Cursed The Crown had been carved in angry lines and stained with black. I shuffled my feet. If only Anuk knew that those words had been gouged into the stone in a fit of irrational anger by a fifteen year old boy…a fifteen year old prince, defying his boundaries, protesting his own existence. If only Anuk knew that I had written them.

  “You think this means there are other rebels in the city?” I asked.

  “What else could it mean?”

  “I thought—” I started, but caught myself in time. The words were a snatch of dialogue from an old play that every well-educated person knew…or every well-educated Cavner noble knew: Cursed the crown that brought such grief to me, that cast my pride to ruin, and my mind to madness turned.

  Shade wouldn’t know those words. So I cleared my throat and shrugged, saying, “Maybe someone was bored.”

  “Most people don’t cut words into walls unless they’re really skundered about something.”

  “True.” I kicked at the wall. “So? Even if you’re right, what’s it to do with us? It could have been anyone.”

  “Open your eyes! Think about it.” He lounged back on the wall, his thick shoulders covering The Crown. “We have to reach out to those folks. Make it easy for them to find us.”

  I shifted, disturbed. “Since when did you people get to be dissidents?”

  “What, are we supposed to just sit back and get kicked? No thanks. Things’ll get worse before they ever get better. We gotta make them better, so. This is the only way.”

  I turned away, hands in my pockets, and strolled back down the alley. After a minute Anuk came jogging after me, punching me in the ribs as he caught up to me.

  “What eats?”

  “I didn’t sign up to start a rebellion.”

  “Get your head out of the stars, Shade. What did you sign up for?”

  I grinned at him, feeling as cold and feral as I knew that smile looked. “I didn’t sign up for anything that doesn’t get me closer to my target.”

  “I’d hate to be that fellow,” he said.

  I ignored him, the way I’d learned made more of an impression on the kids than any kind of response.

  After we’d walked a while in silence, I turned to Anuk and asked, “So, what’s your plan for reaching these folks?”

  “I want to get one of the mages to help. Scorch can do it. Burn a symbol in the wall anywhere we see those words. Rivano’s symbol.”

  That brought me up. I almost stopped, but forced myself to keep walking. “There’s more than just that one?”

  “I’ve found eight. Bugs says he found ten, but I’m not sure he can count so good, so.”

  A prickle of shame warmed my cheeks. I was an idiot. At fifteen, I’d never imagined that my angry carvings would spawn echoes across the city. That my childish rage would fuel so much discontent.

  “Scorch is a Flint?” I asked after a bit, somehow remembering how Griff had talked about the Jixy who could light a fire with his fingers.

  “Yeah,” Anuk said. “Damn fine one, too. D’you ever hear about the aeroplane crash at the palace about a month back?”

  The blood drained from my face. “Never heard of it,” I said, cool. “What happened?”

  “Don’t know how he did it, but he got his power inside that engine somehow. Heated it up so far, the coils split. Never did work the way it was supposed to, though. Didn’t make it any less impressive for all that.”

  “What was supposed to happen?”

  “Cause a panic. Distract the guards. We were looking for weaknesses at the palace wall.”

  Hayli. Had she been part of it, after all? Sent to find weaknesses that these rebels could exploit? A little sick ache gnawed at my gut, and my throat stung with bile.

  “Kantian wanted to ground the fleet, too,” Anuk added.

  “Why would he care about the fleet?”

  “Don’t you know they’re turning them into weapons? Silent weapons that can scout the whole city from a birds-eye? That doesn’t worry you?”

  “I’m more worried about them scouting the whole of my island,” I snapped. Funny how easily defending Istia came to me.

  “Right.”

  I knotted and unknotted my hands, focusing on controlling my breath so it wouldn’t give away my rage. I’d find a way to lure Scorch into a fight, and then I’d destroy him.

  “Is this Rivano
’s plan?” I asked after a while.

  “Sure,” Anuk said. “Well, Kantian’s the one as cooked it up, but everyone knows he’s not the brains of the operation. Rivano’s behind it for sure. Think he’s had enough of the crown’s hatred of your sort, so. He prob’ly reckons it’s time to stop hiding and fight back. Isn’t that something you’d support? You’re Istian, after all.”

  “I have no use for kings or crowns, if that’s what you’re asking,” I said, my voice coming rougher than I’d hoped. “But this isn’t my fight.”

  * * * *

  We made it back to the Hole in time for supper. For all my worry and anger about Kantian and Scorch and rebellions, all I really felt when I walked into the mess was disappointment and some strange little sadness, because Hayli was nowhere to be found. I knew I ought to be angry with her, too, but I wasn’t. Not really.

  I noticed Derrin sitting by himself and took a plate of food to his table. “Where’s Hayli?” I asked, trying not to sound too curious.

  “She’s off practicing her Shifting.”

  “Outside?”

  “Don’t look so surprised,” he said, laughing. “It’s not like letting a caged bird free. She’ll be back. I just sent her out to see if she could observe one thing outside the gates as a crow and then report it back to me. Hopefully she’ll be back by dinner.”

  “Sounds useful.”

  “Look, Kantian had to go out, so he asked me to fill you in on what he wants done. He’s managed to track down a few people who look promising for the insurgency, all right? These are crew chiefs like Coolie, who have people under them willing to take action. Kantian wants you to go to the meet, since he can’t be there and Rivano’s got me off pulling duty elsewhere, too. All you have to do is meet with them, get their names and the number of people they can bring on board, and get the details for the first demonstration. They’ve apparently already taken the initiative and set something up. Think you can handle that?”

  I studied him a long while, picking at the pile of canned beans on my plate. “I think so,” I said. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “Good. You met with Vanek Meed of all people. Didn’t think you’d have a problem with this lot.” He got up from the table. “Oh, almost forgot. The meet’s happening in the rail yard tonight, after the ten o’ train comes in. Don’t let them intimidate you. They might badger you a bit, because you’re new, but you’ll be fine.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  I watched him clear out of the mess, then turned back to stabbing at the beans. What demonstration was Derrin talking about? Rebels in the city, planning some sort of event? I sucked in a breath and shoveled in the beans. Kor had to hear about this.

  When I got to the palace, the guard just gave me a sour glance and used the radio call box inside the guard post to notify Kor that I’d come. I sat on the steps in the rain and waited, until I heard Kor’s familiar determined stride bearing down on me. He didn’t stop when he reached me, but snapped his fingers and said,

  “Get up and walk with me.”

  I scrambled to my feet and sauntered down the steps after him, following him around to the gardens. When we stood alone, he stopped and faced me.

  “Don’t make a habit of this, kid. Careful as you are, your new friends are going to start noticing if you go missing all the time, and they might get a notion to follow you.”

  “I know,” I said. “But this is important.”

  I told him everything that Derrin had told me, and even the inflammatory carvings all around the city that suggested unrest—unrest that I was terrified could turn to violence against my family. He listened quietly, and when I’d finished he swore and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Kantian doesn’t trust you,” he said. “That’s what Derrin said, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “The meet is a setup. Look. He’s set you up. He’s trying to find out if you would do just what you’re doing right now. If I take the police and go in armed to the teeth ready to arrest anyone who shows up, the game’s over. He’ll know you played stoolie and ratted everyone out. You’ve got to go and be prepared to look humiliated when no one comes.”

  “There’s no meeting?” I asked, feeling stupid.

  “No, there’s no meeting. Kantian will be there, out of sight, waiting to see what happens. You’ve just got to go and stand around for an hour until he realizes you haven’t alerted the guards. Because believe me, Kantian would know if there are police sniffing around the meet. They can smell copper a mile away.”

  I watched a pair of crows circling above the trees, and a third picking a careful path through the mown grass, looking for food. I wondered what Hayli thought about when she was the crow. Did she remember who she was? When she woke up, did she remember how it felt to fly? I shivered and stared at my hands.

  “I’ll try to steer clear of the palace for a while,” I said. “Is there any other way I can get in touch with you if I need to see you?”

  “You can tell Astel.” He turned to go, but stopped and glanced back at me. “Sorry to hear about Durb,” he said. “Soon as you get this setup taken care of, you know what you’ll have to do. And find out what this demonstration is. If they’re planning something violent…”

  “I know,” I said. “I’ll get word to you somehow. And…before you go, there’s something else you should know.” I took a breath, ignoring the sick ache in my stomach. “One of the Clan’s mages brought down my friend’s aeroplane. It was partly to cripple the fleet, partly to serve as a distraction.”

  “Distraction for what?” Kor asked, studying me thoughtfully.

  “A couple of the kids were trying to find a weak spot in the Wall to get onto the palace grounds.”

  “Whatever for, I wonder,” he said, never taking his eyes off mine. “Do you know which of the kids were involved? If you can get them away from the Hole, I might be able to get them nabbed and brought in for questioning. If there are dissidents in the city and some of these kids are finding ways to infiltrate the palace…that could be seriously dangerous.”

  “I’m not sure,” I said, hoping I didn’t hesitate too long, hoping the lie didn’t twist my voice. “I could try to find out, though.”

  “Tarik.”

  I let out my breath in one little puff. For a moment I just stood there, staring at the crow, then I lifted my gaze to his and said, “If you don’t ask, I don’t have to lie.”

  He measured me thoughtfully. I couldn’t read the expression in his eyes at all.

  After a moment he nodded and straightened his hat. “All right. Thanks for letting me know. I can suggest a boost in the palace guard, just to be safe.”

  “Good,” I said, and watched him walk away, waiting until he had disappeared back up the palace steps before I let out my breath and loosed my shaking hands.

  You betrayed them. Again. You would have betrayed Hayli.

  They are all liars as much as I am.

  Chapter 19 — Hayli

  I sit on the iron rail of a fence, watching the mechanical birds take to the skies. The other crows have crowded into the trees, scolding the men and their machines below, but if I go too close, I am afraid they will scold me too. They watch me by degrees, some wary, some curious. I am one of them, but not. I will never be one of them.

  Two men climb out of a motorcar by the edge of the field. It is not the motorcar I have seen before, not as grand, not as large. Something about the men calls my attention. It’s the pocket watch, twinkling in the light, swinging from one of the men’s waistcoats. I leave my perch to drift closer, hopping a bit as I land on the fence again.

  From here I see it is not a pocket watch at all. It is too thick, too heavy. And the hand hovering near it…I have seen that hand before, but not with these eyes. With weaker eyes, frightened eyes. Hayli’s eyes. I can still feel the girl’s terror, buried under a mask of bravery, when she saw that man.

  I consider the rust on the railing, piecing together her memories. Memories tha
t do not flow the way mine flow. She has been searching for answers, but she will not be able to find them. She has been searching for this man, but she will not be able to find him. I have found him. It is not safe for her to be here, so when I feel the burn of her spirit, the drive to walk and feel and see with her own eyes, I push her back and take to the air. I climb, higher, higher, till the wind disappears and there is only me and endless blue.

  Then I circle down, slowly, watching the men conversing by the motorcar. The other man, the one I do not recognize, has a faint ring of fear about him—fear and hatred. He takes off his hat and rubs his bald head. I can feel his anger as he listens to the man with the mechanical device. They are arguing now. The bald man could tower over the older man, the scientist, but he does not. He backs down. He is defeated.

  The scientist sees me flying overhead, and for one long moment he stares at me. Before he can suspect me, I turn and fly to a nearby tree, far from the other crows and their mistrust. I must follow him. I must learn where he goes, for the girl’s sake.

  The men argue only a few moments more, then the old man with the fine hands climbs into the motorcar. Clouds of steam puff from the engine, and I take to the air to follow, tagging through treetops as the car winds down the avenue. The car passes the palace gate, but does not go through. It turns and heads deeper into the palace grounds, where there are fewer trees to hide me.

  We arrive at a monstrous, sprawling building. It isn’t the palace—it is no place I have seen, and no place Hayli can remember seeing. Four stories of brick trimmed in white stone, with two separate entry points, one with a single guard, the other with barriers and guards with guns making a checkpoint. A long chain fence divides the two halves of the building.

  I land in a beech tree to watch as the motorcar pulls up to the checkpoint. Hayli is in my head, begging me to get close, to listen, to see what happens. I am afraid they will recognize me, but perhaps they will only see a crow.