Читать книгу City of Dust: Completely gripping YA dystopian fiction packed with edge of your seat suspense - Michelle Kenney - Страница 11

‘In the name of Arafel …? Why!?’ Max interjected, his golden skin darkening with a scowl.

We’d finished the trout stew, and Mum was silently cutting up a fresh pineapple into hand-sized chunks. I wasn’t deceived though. I could assess her mood by the tight compression of her lips.

‘They want to join you, Talia, all of you, here in Arafel. While Cassius has restarted the propaganda machinery, most of the free thinkers believe an outside community thrives. The truth is, Arafel … Max … you … you’ve all become rather legendary.’

Silently, Rajid got up from his cross-legged position by the fire and walked over towards Jas. She lifted her head, growling her warning softly, but he didn’t falter. Instead, he slowly lowered to his knees beside her. She eyed him coldly for a beat, before yawning and rolling over. I stared in surprise. An invitation to tickle her snow-white belly was a real sign of trust. Aelia shot us a satisfied look, her elfin cheeks tinged with spots of colour and I wondered, briefly, what had passed between her and Rajid. They were both Prolet Freedom Fighters, and she obviously trusted him. So why did he unnerve me?

‘The day after the Senate reported August as missing, a group of Prolets took off – through the old Roman tunnels beneath the ruined city of Isca,’ Rajid offered in a low voice, still stroking Jas. His voice was almost hypnotic, and I suppressed a frown. Jas had a pretty sharp instinct with people, yet she’d clearly accepted him.

‘Beneath the city?’ I repeated, recalling my own journey beneath the domes. ‘The Roman tunnel only leads to the Lifedome exterior wall. I had to fly the griffin over the mined land.’

Only once in the last twelve months had I crept to the edge of the forest to stare out at the domed rise of Isca Pantheon; and the dirt-land separating the two worlds looked just the same as it always had: barren, impenetrable and terrifying. It had claimed so many Arafel lives in the beginning, and their memory rested there with their bones, in the blackened soil.

Rajid broke off grooming Jas to look up, his face creased with disdain. ‘The Prolets are, among other things, resourceful archaeologists,’ he responded.

‘Your exit tunnel was just the beginning of the secret excavation work. Since then, we’ve uncovered a whole network of ancient Roman tunnels that lead out and interconnect beneath the old city of Isca Dumnoniorum … or Exeter as it was known before the Great War.’

‘Rajid led the excavation work. It was dangerous but incredible, like rediscovering a forgotten underground maze,’ Aelia added.

‘Does Cassius know?’ I asked, trying to keep up with all the revelations.

I recalled his face the day he thought I was at his mercy – just minutes before Unus arrived. It was a look that had hard-wired itself into my brain. Cold venom. Like a death adder.

‘He didn’t, but he does now, of course. And the first thing he and Livia did was freeze the new freedom of movement powers August brought in to support the Integration Agenda. Cassius said it was just to retain balance until August returned. But there are those …’

‘… who know better?’ I muttered.

She nodded.

‘And he’s sending out search parties on a daily basis to bring back the missing Prolets. Armed search parties.’

Max looked from me to Aelia, his frown deepening.

‘She can’t help.’

I’d been listening so intently, I’d forgotten Mum was at the back of the circular room, shelling beans. I gazed at her familiar face, brown and seasoned from her years spent working in Arafel’s fields. Eli and I took on her load as much as possible, but Grandpa’s death had hit her hard, especially since he’d filled the breach Dad had left eleven years before.

‘It’s OK, I’m not going anywhere,’ I reassured her.

‘Aren’t you also on the Senate, Aelia? As General in Command of the PFF?’ I asked, trying to understand how so much could have been undone so quickly.

She smiled in a way that said everything.

‘You mean ex General in Command. Cassius voided my position within the first week August was missing,’ she relayed, her brow puckering.

‘He said there was no need for the PFF any longer, since we were working together with a new vision for Isca Pantheon. Made a big deal about all positions on the Senatore needing to be earned through the popular vote, although the prejudiced voting system hasn’t been replaced, and so guess what? The only people currently entitled to vote live within … Pantheon.’

Max scowled. ‘But then the Senate vote is never gonna reflect Prolet will.’

She smiled again, her teeth just visible, and I could tell her nerves were frayed.

‘Eat,’ I urged, pushing her refilled bowl back towards her.

Jas stirred from her comatose position beside Rajid, and my gaze shot back to the trapdoor, though I knew exactly what had made her beautiful flocked ears perk up. Jas was the most intuitive watch-cat in the world. Whenever Eli took an early hunting shift in the outside forest, she waited for his return intently, and always seemed to know when he was back on Arafel soil. I strained my ears and, sure enough, a few moments later detected a scuffle at the bottom of our tree.

Mum was up in a breath, flying across the floor towards the trapdoor, to let down our woven willow ladder. Seconds later, an earth-streaked hand pushed aside the rough netting we hooked over the exit, and a mop of sandy-brown hair appeared.

I drew a breath as his grey-blue eyes followed, his expression quickly changing as he acknowledged the newcomers. He vaulted through the trapdoor like a forest cat, and Jas stretched out her sleek hunting body in response, bypassing Rajid as though he’d never existed. She padded up to Eli, purring like a queen bee in the height of summer, as he bent to reassure her, a bundle of cloth cradled beneath his arm.

He held the small wrap out to Jas, who sniffed with her usual casual interest, before he let a tiny, doleful little owl peep out of the top. A murmur of interest whispered around the room as he straightened, placing the newcomer inside one of the egg-shaped woven baskets suspended from the ceiling. We were very used to our treehouse being an impromptu animal hospital, and immediately Mum started warming some thinned milk.

‘Orphaned?’ I signed.

‘Yes, and this little guy was the last in his nest,’ Eli signed swiftly before walking across to Aelia and giving her an affectionate hug.

None of us missed the question in his eyes. The entry tunnel into the village was a long-kept secret, and revealing it was punishable by expulsion. Clearly, he hadn’t been to the animal infirmary on his way back.

‘She and Rajid caught the overnight haga to Arafel,’ Max interjected, a gleam in his eye.

There was a ripple of laughter as Eli held his hand out to Rajid. He gripped it with respect. There was something in Eli’s unflustered air that calmed even the hormone-fuelled bucks at rucking time, and as Rajid inclined his head respectfully, I noticed the Cerberus climbing his neck doing the same.

‘Haga?’ Eli signed incredulously. ‘Where on earth is this intrepid bird? And how did they know how to find us?’ he added to me directly.

I raised my eyes at Max. Only Eli would ask after a bird before enquiring about Aelia’s daring journey.

I signed quickly, bringing him up to date, as he gently removed the little owl from its basket cocoon and pipetted thinned, warm milk into its open beak. Watching him sustain such a tiny fragment of life as though it were the last helped to calm my jumbled thoughts.

‘So, where are the group that escaped now? How many Prolets made it out?’ Max asked in a low voice.

I was still signing, but my ears pricked up. Max was always the underdog champion – no matter the stakes. He wouldn’t leave a rabbit alone to face a fox. But this rabbit could be anywhere, and I was still reeling with the news that Cassius was still alive. There could be no crueller fox.

‘Prolet Levels Thirteen and Fourteen emptied overnight. So, a party of around sixty is unaccounted for,’ Rajid offered, sauntering back to join Aelia by the fire.

‘Livia spared no time in offering her services to help flush them out, should they fail to return within three days,’ she added with a grimace.

‘And she doesn’t mean round up.’

My stomach twisted like one of Max’s trap knots. At last Aelia’s urgency was clearer. But Arafel was already in the region of three hundred heads. How could it support another sixty? And wouldn’t a rescue mission just bring Cassius directly here to Arafel?

‘Care for the seed, and it will care for you.’

I had no idea where Grandpa’s whisper came from. It was just there, hanging in the oaken breeze, as though he was beside me now.

I straightened my shoulders and cleared my throat. I had to think like Grandpa.

‘It’s a matter for Art and the Council,’ I said decisively and quickly, ‘but I don’t think we have any choice.’

I was conscious of all eyes in the room swinging my way, including my mother’s.

‘Grandpa taught us to value life above everything else. All life. We can’t sit here in our safe idyll of a valley, while others scour the Dead City sewers searching for us!’

‘Talia, think!’ My mother looked ashen as she rose to her feet, the beans she was shelling spilling onto the wooden floor.

‘We just about manage to feed everyone as it is. We can’t support sixty extra mouths through the winter months. What if bringing them here also brings that … that monster to our home? And how do we know she wasn’t followed?’

Mum pointed towards Aelia, her face twisted with fear. My chest contracted. Mum had been through enough, but how could I justify putting her above the needs of sixty desperate Insiders?

Jas whined above the chatter of a capuchin in a nearby tree. My little apricot monkey ran through my head, and I bit my lip, tasting the tiny trickle of salty blood. Freedom always came at a cost, which was what made it so precious.

‘We take it to Art,’ I repeated grittily, watching Mum close her eyes as though I’d just committed us all to certain death.

***

A chevrotain was grazing by the yew and I approached slowly, trying not to startle it. They were shy animals and this one had to be a little confused to be out at late afternoon. Grandpa used to call them mouse deer, or deer bewitched by the fairy folk; either way they were unusual enough to be considered good fortune in Arafel.

I allowed myself a small smile as I crouched silently, watching it. I could do with some good fortune just now. It had been an hour since the discussion in the treehouse, and I’d stepped out for some fresh air before seeing Art. The Council members took their shifts in the fields like everyone else, which meant all Council matters were dealt with after working hours. It was a tradition that protected our primary resource: food.

But as I extended my hand, I sensed it. A threatening presence. I was on my feet and spinning in a heartbeat, arm raised high to deflect the incoming missile. There was sharp pain as it found a target, the fleshy underside of my arm. I winced. The stone would have killed the mouse deer outright, but the nervous creature was already gone, the bushes rustling their relief.

‘In Arafel, the mouse deer is considered sacred,’ I challenged the lurking shadows.

‘In Isca Prolet, the mouse deer would feed a family for a week,’ came the acerbic response.

‘Last time I checked you were staying in Arafel, at our invitation!’ I retorted.

Rajid sidled into view, an indecipherable look on his swarthy face. He seemed taller and leaner in the open air, and for the first time I noticed a large white-handled blade dangling from his waistband.

‘Prolets can take care of themselves.’

Max’s words echoed through my head although I didn’t doubt it for one second. I flexed my fingers. Didn’t he know Outsiders invented the rule book?

‘What are you doing out here?’

I was suddenly conscious he must have followed me to find me in this quiet part of the forest.

‘Just getting some fresh air, and exploring the local animal species. Interestingly, they seem to have a uniform number of legs.’

He drawled rather than spoke, elongating all the s’s in any word. I stared at him intently. Despite Jas’s acceptance, this man could get under my skin, and the reddened jaws of his Cerberus were glinting in the evening sun, like some sort of portent of ill luck.

‘How long have you known Aelia?’ I asked.

‘For about as long as she’s been a Prolet.’ He leaned casually against a convenient oak, as though it was the most natural thing in the world for us to be standing here, discussing Aelia.

‘We grew up in the same corner of town. Then, when she won the funded medical place with Isca Pantheon, I joined the mineral miners. As you can probably imagine, it’s a rather popular choice in the wonderful metropolis of Isca Prolet!’

He grinned at his own joke, revealing a blackened tooth near the front of his mouth. The neglect reminded me how different our paths had been. The sight of a lush, green forest had to be one of the most arresting he’d ever seen. And yet, he seemed so detached.

‘And then the PFF?’ I pushed.

‘And then the PFF,’ he closed.

His head dropped to one side, as though he was assessing a laboratory specimen. And for a second we stood there, engaged in some sort of unspoken combat, before he sauntered across and paused closely enough to me to feel slightly uncomfortable. I held my ground, even while his slightly soured breath filled my face.

‘Just what is it that makes you so special?’

I wasn’t even sure he’d whispered the words; they were spoken so quietly.

‘Rajid! Why are you out here? I wanted to talk to Tal before we head over to Art!’ Aelia’s sharp tone cut through the air. ‘The sun’s on the horizon; it’s time.’

I glanced across at Aelia’s shadow, tense and agitated. Beneath the bough of a twisted hazel, she had clearly been counting the seconds until we could see Art.

Rajid stepped back, inane smile resurrected, before sauntering after Aelia. And as I followed, I wondered again whether the Cerberus was more than a tattoo.

***

‘I’ll have to call an Extraordinary Council of the Elders, and a village-wide Ring to tally support after that. This is not something I can decide on behalf of Arafel, Talia. Should we choose to send a task force and then take these people under Arafel’s wing, we will undoubtedly compromise the safety of every man, woman and child living here. That action must not be taken lightly or without full, open acceptance of the possible consequences.’

I stared at Art’s wizened face in the dim light of his study. His treehouse was tucked between the branches of the oldest ash in the village, and the closely knotted pale branches created a twilight space, even though it was only just dusk. It was the colour between day and night, and usually that soothed me, but today I was conscious only of Aelia’s anxiety.

‘I don’t think we have that sort of time, do we, Aelia?’ I asked, her twitching foot belying her calm expression.

She shook her head swiftly. We’d been through it all in detail, and the more we talked, the more I felt her apprehension.

‘They’ve been gone for weeks. We think they’re hiding out in the tunnels beneath the city, but they must have run out of food by now, and they have no means of cooking whatever they may catch among the ruins. My fear is that they’re living off sewer rats and unclean water, with no access to light. Their prognosis is pretty grim, unless we get help in there quickly.’

She spoke rapidly, her clinical training giving her strength although I knew she had to know most of the renegade Prolet families personally. As leader of the Prolet effort to integrate with Pantheon, she had to feel responsibility for their protection too. It was clear that whether Arafel helped or not, she would do everything she could to find them.

‘If they are in a weakened state, and Cassius releases his personal battalion of molossers or even strix, they won’t have the strength to fight or escape. And Cassius likes to make an example of those who challenge the system. I can’t imagine he will be content simply to parade sixty insurgent prisoners. He will want something in return – and I don’t mean their white flag.’

I turned back to Art, hoping he would make an exception, just this once. He was Grandpa’s successor as leader of the Council, and infamous for his strong sense of fairness. He was also a stickler for the rules.

Art stared at us both, his astute eyes getting the measure of Aelia swiftly. Then he drew a deep breath.

‘I’m sorry, Talia, but on this my hands are tied. The only thing I can offer you for certain is an extraordinary meeting of the Ring, followed by a vote. It will take a little longer than you will like, but perhaps that time is usefully spent considering the path that may lie ahead? None of Arafel’s hunters will know the ruined city tunnels, and if we are forced to engage with Cassius, there will be injury and loss of life.

‘I understand your urgency,’ he added gently, ‘but this decision needs thorough debate. We are hunters, farmers, survivors … not warriors.’

I glanced at Aelia. She was pale and completely still.

‘I will call a Ring, but I cannot promise you the decision you want.’

I nodded, knowing better than to push. We’d secured a meeting, and that had to be enough for now. Moments later we were dropping down through Art’s aged trapdoor to the forest floor beneath.

I looked at Aelia, her face in shadows, her agitation tangible.

‘I know it’s not exactly the outcome we wanted. But just let Art talk to the village … I’m sure they’ll—’

‘I understand,’ she cut in shortly. ‘It’s a big ask, and Arafel is your home. You are all safe, while the insurgents … my people … Look, I get it, OK? I just need a few minutes to compose my thoughts before the meeting. And I need to speak with Rajid. I’ll listen for the Ring alarm and meet you there.’

I nodded silently, wanting to say so many things but unable to find the right words. Aelia was my feisty friend who was as unpredictable as she was loyal, but this time we weren’t facing the manticore or some other beast of Pantheon. This time the stakes were so much higher. She spun on her heel and headed off into the darkness.

Reluctantly, I started in the opposite direction, intending to find Mum and Eli before the alarm. The last of the afternoon light was receding and Pacha, the village lantern-bearer had begun lighting the beeswax candles suspended in willow rope jars from our treehouses. They illuminated a path through the forest at night, but the effect was to cast our homes into an ethereal half-light. Mum called it fairy-tale, but tonight their glow did little to soothe my nerves.

‘Tal?’

Max’s voice stopped me in my tracks and when I followed its direction, I could just make out his healthy face among the dusky branches of a dense red cedar. Instinctively, I gripped the strong arm that followed. His proximity was usually the only thing that enabled me to think straight.

I leveraged myself using the tree’s thick, nodulous bark but there was no real need. Max led Arafel’s treehouse construction team, and I was sharing his bough within seconds. I gazed through the feathery leaves that fringed his brown skin. He had three fresh rabbits attached to his leather waistband, and a forced smile pinned to his face.

For a moment neither of us said anything. It had been like this for a while now. The weighted silence. Like he was slowly building towards something methodically, the way he built treehouses. Only this subject wasn’t approachable with sheer logic, and there was no previous design for him to copy or adapt. It wasn’t a conversation I was anticipating in any way either, which made me the biggest coward, and him more than confused.

I loved Max fiercely, but there was a dam somewhere in my throat, one that blocked up all emotional pathways between my heart and mouth. And no matter how close we were, there was still a void between us, preventing those final words.

‘I made something for you,’ he murmured.

There was an underlying question in his voice, and I knew he wanted to ask how the conversation with Art had gone, that in his head he was already racing across the forest. Max to the rescue. He was always so damned busy trying to rescue everyone, he rarely stopped to ask if they wanted rescuing in the first place.

My stomach pitched as he held out a small wooden object. Anticipating, always anticipating. I stared incomprehensibly at first. In the twilight it looked a little like a wooden mushroom with a short fat stalk and a bigger, carefully whittled cap. Then, as I gazed, the fine markings of his determined wood-carving knife became clearer. I reached out and picked it up in wonder; it was no bigger than a whistle, but the craftsmanship was superb.

Lost for words, I turned it over and around in the palm of my hand. It was all there – the thick trunk, the veined knotted branches, the tiny indentations of a willow rope ladder and trapdoor.

‘It’s a treehouse,’ I whispered, my words slowing as the significance of his gift began to sink in.

He nodded shyly, waiting for the right reaction. A reaction that gave him the light he needed, a reaction that patched the need for real words – and real, honest conversation.

‘Not just any old treehouse,’ he returned, reaching across to pick it up gently and perform a swift manoeuvre. I gasped, as with a swift twist of his deft fingers, the small tip came away revealing a small, perfectly formed dart tube.

‘It’s one of the most accurate blow tubes I’ve designed.’ He frowned in concentration. ‘The aperture is just large enough to take one of our darts, and the narrow circumference maximizes direction and speed … Like this, see?’

He plucked a fresh cedar leaf, rolled it up into a tiny scroll and inserted it carefully into the tube. Then he raised it to his lips, and aimed at the floor beneath our feet. Two seconds later it was lying next to a small grey stone, slowly unfurling.

I stared at him in wonder.

‘You really are the most incredible craftsman,’ I murmured with real awe, hoping it would be enough, for now.

‘It’s perfectly balanced … the treehouse dart tube I mean,’ he added, his eyes shining uncertainly.

I nodded, knowing it wasn’t what he meant at all, that he hadn’t intended just to give me this. That it was his door into a conversation.

‘Max, I …’ I intervened, my head racing with a thousand inadequate words.

‘Sssh!’

He pressed a work-worn finger against my lips; and an expression flickered across his face, something between frustration and stubborn hope. It made me want to reach up and cradle his honest face in my shallow hands.

‘I thought you could wear it, like a necklace? So it rests here … my favourite spot.’

He dropped his fingers to gently brush the hollow of my neck, and I felt a flush steal up my neck. They were the same words he’d whispered that night, and he knew it.

‘Here, I could kiss here all night … I can see your blood pulsing, alive and vibrant. It’s such a gift, after everything.’

My world wobbled.

We’d already sealed our caring the most intimate way possible so why was I still holding him at arm’s length? And, if he wanted it all so much, why in the name of Arafel wasn’t that enough?

Perhaps if I just closed my eyes and pretended, I could lose myself long enough for it to become the truth.

‘It’s a practical keepsake … for while I’m gone,’ he whispered.

‘What do you mean?’ I frowned. ‘Art will need to send Arafel’s best hunters. I’m one!’

‘I know. But you can’t leave your family, not again. Your mum’s right – you’ve risked enough already. It’s your turn to take a back seat, Tal. If Cassius came across you …’ He paused, a ferocious scowl suddenly contorting his face.

I looked away. The moon wound only a milky light through the cedar’s branches, but right then it felt as though I were standing in the full glare of the sun. I pressed my nails into my hands, suppressing the feelings running wild beneath my skin. I couldn’t let Max see how I felt about Cassius. That I knew he would like nothing more than to have his vengeance on the Outsider who brought Pantheon crashing down around his ears. And probably in the most sadistic way. Because Max would make it his own war. And I couldn’t have that.

‘I understand the risks,’ I whispered, watching light diamonds flicker in his eyes, ‘but he’d still have to catch me first.’

A brief silence hung in the air. The moment had gone and we both knew it. And although it was only a temporary reprieve, for one insane moment I felt disappointed. Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself onto the balls of my feet, readying myself to leap. Just as Max’s fingers brushed my forearm.

‘Has Art even agreed to it?’ he asked intently, his breath warming my cheek.

I shook my head. ‘There’s going to be a meeting and a vote in the Ring. Art said he has to put it to the Council. Aelia was …’

‘Angry?’

‘Terrified.’ Our whispers coincided as Aelia’s strained face spun into my mind.

The cedar leaves rustled with the breeze, and the tiny hairs on the backs of my arms prickled. Where would this all lead?

‘She thinks we’re hesitating because we don’t want to help. She says time is running out.’

I started as he reached forward and silenced my words with a swift, determined kiss. It was the briefest of gestures, but one that burned as though he had scored his initials there.

‘She’s not the only one,’ he whispered. ‘And at some point in the not too distant future, that fragile branch you’re clinging to is going to break. And then you’re going to have to decide if you’ll let someone real catch you … Let them build a life with you.’

I breathed through the sudden vice in my chest, chased by a vivid memory. It was the image of us both in the dusty Flavium, surrounded by mounted Equites, waiting to die. I’d burned then for the power to heal his wounds, for the chance to make him well and happy. And finally, here I was holding that very same precious power, and balking.

And all because of a faded face, looming out of the swirling dust. I closed my eyes as Aelia’s words echoed like a ghost through my head.

‘August was chosen to lead the investigation into habitable life. He was dispatched with the elite Equite force on an exploratory mission. Across Europa.’

He hadn’t come to find me. It didn’t matter how many times I told myself, it still sucked the breath from my body every time the words echoed through my head. And why should he, after all? We’d known each other a matter of a few short days, barely enough time to like someone, let alone anything else.

I ground my teeth. August might as well have died back in the Flavium, among the blood-coloured dust and crowing griffins. While Max was alive, here, trying to love me. And I couldn’t ask him to wait for ever. Something clicked over inside.

I pulled open my eyes and looked straight at Max.

‘I want you to catch me,’ I whispered, ‘after we’ve helped Aelia.’

Just as the words left my mouth, the night air thickened with the sound of the Ring alarm. It was a stark, invasive sound among the everyday hum of the forest, and a shiver stole through me, even though I knew its purpose. It was only ever sounded in emergencies or rare situations that couldn’t be resolved by Art and the elected Council, and most of my twenty years had passed without the need for it to disturb regular forest life.

Max didn’t answer me, but the diamonds in his eyes brightened as they caught the glint of the moon. And as I dropped onto the forest floor, my promise felt loaded with more conviction than I’d felt in a very long time.