I sit down hard in an armchair next to the fireplace. My parents aren’t my parents. This should feel blasphemous, foreign, nonsensical. But instead, it’s as if something has fallen into place.
Tsam kneels down in front of me. “I’m sorry I left, Émi. I should have been here.”
“All this time. You weren’t in the Gold Quarter, were you?”
He sends a withering look in the direction of his abandoned gold sash. “No. My wings started to come through, I had to go back to Abilene.”
I get to my feet. Now it’s my turn to do laps of the living room. I am trying to sort through Tsam’s words, line them up, see if any of them fit with my life. If I’d been told this a week ago, I’d have laughed out loud. But now? After today’s magick? Because it was, undeniably, magick. “The Watchers still exist? And Abilene? Mahg didn’t destroy you all?”
Tsam reaches into his pocket and withdraws my father’s sketchbook. He hands it back to me. “No, he didn’t destroy us. The other three cities are still there. Still thriving. Still safe – for now.”
I rub my forehead with my fingers. “What you’re saying, it makes sense, but a sister? I don’t have a sister.”
Tsam nods. “That’s why I’m here. The sorcerer took your sister, Ava. He vowed to keep her safe and he didn’t tell a soul where he was going. But now…” Tsam looks at Nor and Hedge and lowers his voice as if he’s trying not to scare them. “Mahg’s forces are growing. He’s been raiding villages and towns in the outer provinces. Somehow, he knows you exist.”
I think of the girl in my drawings. I see her as clearly as if she were standing in front of me. She is clutching her scarf, her eyes imploring me, and I know now she is my sister.
She is Ava.
“Mahg is looking for us?” The words drill shards of fear deep into my bones.
Tsam’s eyes fill, as though he’s struggling not to cry. “Yes and, Émi, we need you to help us find Ava. Before Mahg does.”
I turn to Nor and Hedge, then back to Tsam. A familiar feeling of wretched indignation tugs at my chest. “Why do you all think I can help you? What happened today – it was an accident! I can’t control it!”
Tsam takes my hand again. “But you could learn, Ém. You have to learn. Ava needs you.” He pauses. “We all need you.”
I tug my hand away and reach up to my hair, to refasten some of the pins that have shaken themselves loose.
“Please, Émi, come with me? Back to Abilene?”
I turn away from Tsam and kneel down in front of Nor. Kind, stoic, brash Nor.
“What do I do?” I ask her.
Nor strokes my hair. The promise and excitement in her eyes has faded and she is smiling a doleful smile. “You must go.”
“But if I go…” I look at Tsam. “If we go, can we take them with us?”
Tsam shakes his head and Nor clasps my hands between hers. “Listen to me, Émi. Listen close. This is bigger than me, or Hedge. It’s bigger than Nhatu and that damned wall. You go with your Watcher, find your sister, and when Mahg’s dead in his grave – then you can come back for us.”
Hedge slides an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Noreen’s right, Émi.”
Again, the girl from my dreams appears in my head. Those eyes. Those pleading, desperate eyes.
“Alright,” I say. “I’ll come with you.”
Nor springs up from the sofa.
“I assume you have a plan? A way out?” She is looking at Tsam’s wings as if she’s expecting him to take flight at any second.
Tsam perches on the corner of the armchair. I watch him balance his body so there is room for both him and his wings. I remember him doing the same thing back in The Emerald.
How did I not see it before? How did I not realise what he was? It is so obvious to me now; his silvery blonde hair, the ethereal glow that even Gold Quarter citizens don’t have.
Tsam’s feathers ripple. “The plan was to take Émi to the outer wall, late, under cover of dark. Wait until the sentries swap their watch, and fly over.”
“We can’t do that now?” I ask.
“I don’t think so,” Tsam says, rubbing his chin.
Hedge cuts in, “Impossible. It’s chaos out there. The Cadets will be swarming all over the city looking for Émi.”
Tsam nods. “We’d be seen. The Council can’t know I’m here. If they thought the Watchers had breached the wall, brought magick here…”
Hedge looks at the clock on the mantlepiece. It is nearly half past midnight. “In three hours, I’ll be starting my shift. If you two hide in the back of the cart, I can get you to the wall. Could even get you up it, if you get in with the rubbish.”
Tsam is frowning so Hedge explains, “I’m a Scrappie – collect rubbish sacks from the upper Quarters and take ‘em to the Tipping Point. Then throw the rubbish over the wall. If you two hide in there with the sacks…”
“We could get to the top, without being seen, and then fly,” says Tsam. “Good, yes, that will work. Émi? Are you alright with that?”
“Well, yes, but Hedge, you’ll be putting yourself in an awful lot of danger. If they find us with you?”
Hedge shakes his head at me. “Émi, dear, I couldn’t give a jot what they do to me. Like Noreen said, this is more important than some little old Scrappie from the Red Quarter. If it helps you get out, and helps the Watchers destroy that monster, once and for all, then being caught with a couple of fugitives is a risk I’m willing to take.”
“That’s settled then,” says Tsam.
With just a few hours until Hedge begins his shift, Nor says we should try to get some sleep. She and Hedge retire to their bedroom, leaving Tsam and I alone in the living room.
The lanterns above the fireplace are dimmed and I’m curled into an armchair with my tunic pulled tight over my knees, holding back the urge to cry. Leaving Nhatu is all I’ve ever wanted. I have dreamed of the Watchers, of Abilene and the other Cities, since I was a girl. But now, Tsam is telling me I’m not a girl, not really. I’m a… thing. One day, I was nothing, and then I was a person. Not even a whole person. Somewhere out there, beyond the wall, my sister – my other half – is waiting for me to find her. If he wanted to, could the sorcerer just – change us back? Could Mahg? Is that his plan?
I wish my father was here, because he would know what to say, and because he deserves to know that he wasn’t crazy. But thinking of him makes me think of my mother alone in our flat, or perhaps even, by now, captured by the Cadets. Then I can’t stop the tears from falling.
The vibration of Hedge’s deep rhythmic snoring bleeds through the parlour wall and muffles the sounds of my sobs. Tsam is stretched out on the sofa, his fingers entwined beneath his skull so his elbows stick out and rest on the cushion of his wings. He seems to be sleeping.
As my tears dry on my cheeks, I feel the air start to change; it won’t be long before it rains. Tsam shivers and curls his wings around himself, turning on his side. I take the blanket from the back of my chair and fold it over him. I am staring at the intricacy of his snowy feathers when he mumbles, “Can't sleep, huh?”
“Are you surprised?”
He sits up. His wings give a small flick.
I balance on the sofa, beside his feet. “Do you really think this will work?”
He sighs and shakes his head. “I think it’s our best chance.”
I know he’s right. “Tsam, what about my mother? The Cadets will…”
He puts his hand on my arm. “My father will look after her. He won’t let any harm come to her, I know he won’t.” He is sincere, but the shadow that flits across his face betrays his concern. “Hedge will be up soon.”
A few minutes later, Nor knocks on the living room door and enters. Without speaking, she smothers me in a tight embrace.
“Are you alright?” I ask, struggling to breathe.
She lets me go. “Breakfast,” she says, ignoring my question. “You need to eat.”
As Nor busies herself at the stove, I
remember the crowns Garvey gave me in exchange for my necklace. I reach for Nor’s hand and drop what’s left into her palm. “Will you give these to Junas?” I ask. “For the rent? I don't know how long he'll let her stay there, but—”
Nor whips around to face me. “Don't you worry about Junas,” she says, sternly. “He’s all talk. He’ll not see her out on the street, I promise you.”
My eyes start to sting. “Will you look after her?”
Nor cups my face in her hands. “You know I will.”
I'm about to tell her I’ll miss her when Hedge enters the room, muttering. “Nor, where in The Four Cities is my coffee? We have to leave in the next twenty minutes or the whole thing will go to pot and I can’t do a darned thing without coffee in my veins!” Nor grumbles something back at her husband and shoves a steaming mug into his hands, but when he kisses her on the cheek she blushes. “Get away, you old fool.”
When Hedge has left the room, Nor walks over to the pantry where she rummages around its highest shelf. She returns with a small porcelain jar that has a delicately patterned lid. She hands me the jar and tells me to open it. Inside is a pendant: a twisted leather chain with a pair of dangling silver wings. The wings are wrapped around a small white gemstone. “Put it on,” Nor says, “it’ll keep you safe.”
I fasten the wings around my neck and they feel warm against my skin. “Are these...?”
“The wings represent the Watchers, and the stone… Well, I suppose it’s you, isn’t it?” She rolls up her sleeves and cracks an egg into a mixing bowl. “It’s been in my family since before the wall went up. My mother wore it, for good luck.”
Back in the living room, Hedge is slurping the last dregs of his coffee and lighting a cigarette. “It’s almost three thirty. In a few minutes, I’ll go and collect the cart from the scrap yard. I’ll drive it back here and stop out front. There’ll be other Scrappies and traders milling about, so Noreen will create a distraction. When no one’s looking you two will jump into the back of the cart.”
Nor has placed a platter of kippers and eggs on the small round table in the corner of the room and my stomach growls. We dig in, then Tsam retrieves a second blueish vial from his pocket and slurps down its contents. Slowly, his wings suck back under his skin. He grimaces and rubs at his shoulders. “That never stops feeling strange,” he says.
We are almost ready to leave, when a frantic knocking starts at the front door. We freeze in the centre of the room.
“Can’t be the Cadets already,” Hedge whispers.
Nor holds a finger to her lips and inches forwards to peer through the shutter nearest the door. “Émi, it's your mother.”
Instantly, I move towards the hallway, intending to open the door, but Tsam catches my arm and Hedge says, “We don’t have time for this.”
“I’ll deal with it,” says Nor, ushering us towards the kitchen. “Use the back door.”
From outside, my mother wails, “Nor! Nor, let me in! Is Émi in there?”
“For pity’s sake, woman. Let her in before the whole street hears her!” Hedge whispers, following Tsam and I to the kitchen. “I'll be back in five minutes with the cart.”
Tsam is still holding my arm as I press myself against the wall next to the parlour door.
“Patti,” Nor says, gently. “What in the world is the matter?”
My mother’s voice is fraught and high-pitched. “Is Émi here?”
“No, Patti, she's not here. Why would she be?” I imagine Nor placing her hand on the small of my mother’s back and guiding her to sit down.
“She didn’t come home. I don't know what to do. Did you see what happened at the Punishment? That girl up on the platform? It looked like… people are saying it was… But it can’t have been. Not my Émi.”
“Patti, you need to calm yourself down. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation. We’ll figure it out.”
My mother mumbles something I can’t hear and I’m about to push open the door, run to her and tell her everything, when Nor suddenly raises her voice. “Oh, listen to that. It’s Hedge’s van. He must have forgotten his glasses again. I’ll be back in a minute, Patti, dear!”
Tsam tugs at my arm and whispers, “Émi, we have to go.”
I press my fingers flat on the door. “I love you, Ma. I’m sorry.” Then I follow Tsam out of the back door and down the side passage that leads to the street.
Outside, the street is illuminated by the hazy half glow of the morning street lamps. Amidst the shadows, people are already beginning to journey to their places of work. We pause at the end of the passageway. Nor is standing on her doorstep, waving her arms and hollering.
“You useless fool, what would you do without me? You’d be lost! That’s what!”
Hedge hangs his head, looking dejected. He glimpses us out of the corner of his eye and twitches his index finger at the back of the cart. Red neighbours hurry past, wary of being caught in the crossfire of Nor’s anger. With our heads down, we dash out of the passageway and slip through the shadows. Hedge has left the back of the cart unhooked, so we swing it open and scramble inside. Nor draws her rant to a close and Hedge catches her eye. “See you later then,” he says, and the cart pulls away.
We have been crouched in the back of Hedge’s scrap cart for three and a half hours when he finally announces, through the grill that separates the driver from the cargo at the back, that we will now be heading to the wall. My legs feel like they are made of lead. Tsam shifts uncomfortably beside me and stifles a cough. The odour of the rubbish is becoming unbearable.
“Tsam?”
“Mm.”
“Why has this only just started happening to me? The sparks? Why now?”
Tsam thinks for a moment. “I’m not sure. The Elders will know.”
I’m still sifting through the questions in my brain, trying to order them, when Tsam nudges a broken chair leg out of his field of vision and looks at me. “Maybe your age is significant. You’re nearly seventeen – that’s the age we turn from Fledglings to Watchers. The whole of Abilene gathers for the Ceremony. Flying displays, dancing, lanterns… it’s wonderful. The next one is in a few days’ time.” He shuffles closer and his tone darkens. “When Mahg first attacked us it was at a Fledgling Ceremony.”
“That was when he tried to take the Stone?” I still talk as though the Stone is separate from me. I feel too normal, too… human.
“Yes, seventeen years ago,” Tsam says.
Before I can ask any more questions, the cart jolts violently over a pothole and Hedge swears under his breath.
“We’re at the check point,” he whispers. “Get your heads down.”
We draw to a stop. From our hiding place, we can see the arm of a green-banded Cadet as he leans into the driver’s cabin and holds out his hand. Hedge passes him a worn-looking permit.
“Fine,” the Cadet says, waving us through.
When Hedge opens the back of the cart, he doesn't speak. Huddled in the corner, we watch as he starts to unload his bulging sacks of rubbish. Painstakingly, he empties each bag onto the floor and sifts through it by hand. Pieces of metal, wood, porcelain and fabric are put in a pile to return to the scrap yard, while food waste – and sometimes excrement – is stuffed back into a sack and put to one side. Through the open door, we can see a line of Scrappies with their carts, all doing the same thing. The colossal city wall rises up beside them. Its shining flint paints stripes of sunlight across the floor of the Tipping Point.
Hedge has sorted through just a quarter of the sacks in his cart when he raises his head and holds a hand across his forehead, squinting into the distance. At the far end of the line, a Cadet has stopped an elderly Scrappie and is showing him a large piece of paper. Hedge rubs the back of his neck with a handkerchief and exhales loudly, then continues to sort the scrap at his feet, glancing up every few seconds as the Cadet progresses further down the line.
“Morning, Scrappie.” A silver-banded Cadet this time.
“Morning, sir,” replies Hedge, offering a salute and standing up straight with his feet hip-width apart.
The Cadet steps back, wrinkling his nose at Hedge’s sour overalls.
“How can I help you, sir?”
“We are in search of a dangerous fugitive. A girl. I need you to look at this and tell me if you have seen her.”
Hedge rubs his chin as he studies a sketch of my face.
“Her crimes are severe,” the Cadet continues. “You’re aware of the incident in the square last night?”
Hedge nods and puffs out his cheeks, “Oh yes, sir. Terrible business. This is the girl?”
“Her name is Émi Fae. Redhead, medium height, slight build. Used to be a Green.” The Cadet narrows his eyes and leans in closer. “I believe you’re acquainted with this girl, Scrappie?”
Hedge hesitates and I pray for him to tell the truth – they will find out sooner or later.
“Well, Émi, yes. Was it really her? My word. I don’t know her well myself, but my wife helped her and her mother find a place to live when they arrived from the Green Quarter. Not sure she has anything much to do with her now, mind you. My brother-in-law Junas is the girl’s landlord. You could try him?”
The Cadet nods slowly. The glint in his eye says he already knew about Junas and wanted to see whether Hedge would disclose the connection. “When was the last time you saw Miss Fae?”
“Oh, not for a long time, sir. When they first moved to the Quarter, three years ago maybe, I helped them with some scrap from the yard. Between you and me, the mother is very odd. Depressive, they say. Sleeps all day, cries all night...”
“Alright, alright.” The Cadet waves his hand dismissively. “We may need to talk to you again. Make sure you are available.” Then he moves on, glancing into the cart as he passes.
When the Cadet reaches a Scrappie three carts along, Hedge whispers, “We need to do this now. They could start searching.”
He swings a sack, which he’s only half filled, onto the back of the cart and tips it over. I hesitate but Tsam nudges me. I look at him and he makes a ‘hurry up’ motion with his eyebrows. I crawl forwards and force myself inside, head first, then spin around so I’m facing the opening of the sack. I can see Tsam’s glistening eyes peering out from the back of the cart. I smile at him, to let him know I’m okay. But my smile is still only half-formed when Hedge ties a knot in the top of the sack and seals me in. Almost instantly, it’s difficult to breathe. And when Hedge heaves me onto his back, the putrid waste of the Upper Quarters smears all over my arms and face and hair.
Fire Lines Page 7