by T. C. Edge
I feel my body beginning to burn. My head pulses like a beating drum. My eyes continue to blur, the bright lights around me sending shards of glass right into my brain.
“Why not?” I manage to mumble.
“Because I outrank them. I could have the pick of anyone here. And I’ll choose you. No one will find that too surprising, given your recent popularity and fame. Remember…our subterfuge must be convincing. We have started the ball rolling with this conversation. But we’re only just beginning…”
His words start to fade. I blink hard a few times, trying to wash away the growing haze, but all that does is draw in the blackness.
Slowly but surely, the room becomes smaller, and the walls of darkness start to close in. I can’t hold it any longer. My brain feels like it’s about to explode.
My legs are the first to go, with my brain shutting off moments after. All I hear is my champagne flute shattering on the floor, and see the ground rushing up to my face.
Then, nothing but blackness.
35
I wake in unfamiliar surroundings.
There’s a dullness to my senses as my eyes creak open, letting in the light. At first, I can barely make out what’s in front of me. Then, the shape of two eyes appears, surrounded by wrinkled old skin. They seem to be right in front of me, as if they’re mere millimetres from my face.
I instantly blink hard and recoil. When I open my eyes again, however, the eyes have drawn right back, and now their owner comes into full view.
Mrs Carmichael stands above me, her brows wrinkled and drawn together. She holds a damp cloth in one hand, and a cigarette in the other.
As my eyes widen, I note that the dull throb in my head has subsided. Now, a feeling of numbness has set in, as though I’m suffering some partial paralysis.
I try to get up, but fail, my limbs feeling too heavy to move.
“Settle down now, Brie,” comes Mrs Carmichael’s croaky voice. “You had a nasty fall.”
I check the cloth in her hand again and note that it’s littered with red stains.
“What happened?” I groan, reaching to my forehead. I appear to have several little cuts, each coated in a layer of antiseptic healing cream. They’re quickly on the mend.
Mrs Carmichael pulls my hand away.
“Don’t go messing with my work. From what I gather, you passed out and fell on some broken glass. Sophie told me you were feeling ill all day. You should never have attended the ball in such a state…”
Ah yes, the champagne glass. I must have fallen on its shattered shards.
“You know I couldn’t miss it,” I mumble weakly. “I needed to go.”
“And did you find who you were looking for?”
I nod, thinking back. Adryan. He was a Savant…
With a renewed effort, I manage to drag my body up in the bed. I take a look around the room and note that it’s one I’ve never been in. However, the smell is familiar to me. A sweet and natural aroma of flowers seeps up my nose.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“At the training house Sophie took you to,” she tells me. “You’ve been out all night. She called me as soon as she got you back. How do you feel now?”
“Better,” I say, wincing slightly. “But I still ache all over.”
She nods and turns her eyes to the door behind her. It’s shut tight, only the two of us in the room. Still, she sees fit to bend her old frame down a bit and lower her voice to a whisper.
“You do know what’s wrong with you, don’t you? It’s your abilities, Brie. They’re beginning to manifest. Your body is going through a lot of changes.”
I sigh and place my hand on my boiling forehead once more, grimacing as my fingers graze the little wounds.
“I didn’t think it would happen so fast,” I moan. “Although, I guess Zander did say it would start after a few days off the drugs. And…he said it would be uncomfortable. He certainly got that right.”
“I can see it,” she says, still leaning down. “Your eyes are bloodshot. Your body is covered in bruises. And I can only guess what’s happening inside your head. It’s the price you pay, I suppose.”
“And I’ll pay it,” I say defiantly. “I’ll pay it ten times over if I have to.”
“Be careful what you wish for. I suspect this is only the start.”
A creaking noise issues from behind her and she quickly straightens and turns her old spine. Sophie flows through the doorway like a breath of fresh air, bringing a stronger whiff of flowers with her. In her hands she holds a vase with an array of colourful blossoms.
“I thought I’d brighten up the room, Brenda,” she says as she comes. Her eyes turn to me. “Brie! You’re awake…”
She speeds forward, passing Mrs Carmichael the vase – much to her annoyance – before reaching out and brushing her fingers through my hair. A couple of fingers then lay flat on my forehead for a few moments, carefully making sure to avoid any cuts.
“You still feel hot. It must be a fever. How do you feel?”
“A lot better,” I say. “I didn’t embarrass myself too much, did I? At the ball, I mean?”
“Oh goodness, no. Don’t worry, you barely caused a stir. It happens sometimes. Some girls can’t take the pressure of being introduced to so many Enhanced. Not that that’s what happened with you, of course,” she hastily adds.
“No…”
“Although, I understand it happened when you were speaking with a Savant. That would test the wits of even the most self-assured of girls.”
“A Savant, you say,” murmurs Mrs Carmichael, stepping to the side of the room and placing the vase on a table. “You didn’t tell me about that part, Sophie.”
“No, well it’s only just come to my attention.”
“And this Savant. Who is he?”
“His name’s Adryan Shaw. A very handsome young man, and quite the catch. It was he who invited you to the ball, Brie. Were you aware of that?”
“He mentioned it,” I lie.
In truth, he didn’t really need to.
“Such a lucky girl! And clearly, you made an impression in person. Despite…what happened.”
“What are you saying?” asks Mrs Carmichael, her posture stiffening and eyes ever narrowing.
“Well, this is so very exciting,” says Sophie, bristling with joy. “I’ve just received a message from the Council of Matrimony. It turns out, Adryan would like to begin the process of courting! In fact, several men bid on the opportunity, but were beaten to the punch. After all, who’s going to outrank such a respected young Savant! Well done, Brie. I’m so proud of you.”
“My God…” mumbles Mrs Carmichael, shaking her head at Sophie’s enthusiasm. “You truly are something, Sophie.”
“Excuse me? What exactly do you mean by that, Brenda?” There’s a muted bite to her words. I doubt she’s the sort to ever let herself go, or get properly angry. Living in Inner Haven, such tendencies will have been neutered by now.
“You know precisely what I mean. You’re nothing but an airhead, a mindless slave. It’s the same with all you women who marry up. You’re insufferably arrogant and you don’t even know it…”
“I. Am. Not!”
“You damn well are, and frankly I’d rather not spend another moment in this horrendous building. You should be ashamed of yourself, grooming these women to betray their own people.”
“That isn’t what I do at all! I’ve done nothing but be kind to Brie throughout all of this. And how do you think she feels, hearing you speak in this way! Clearly, she doesn’t agree with your sentiment! How dare you come here and…”
I lift my hand and clasp it to Sophie’s forearm. Her sentence ends abruptly, my guardian’s words bringing a sheen of angry tears to her eyes. She blinks them away as she looks down at me.
“Stop it, both of you,” I say. “This is hardly the time…”
“Yes…exactly,” stammers Sophie. “I won’t stand here and be insulted by this woman at my place of work.
I perform an important duty here, I’ll have you know, Brenda.”
“And what is that? Enlighten me,” oozes Mrs Carmichael with the methodical cool of the Savants.
“I am aiding in the growth of the population of Inner Haven,” says Sophie proudly.
“Yes…Inner Haven. Like I say, all you do is betray your own people. How you, and all your little students, are so blinkered to that I don’t know. But I can’t be here anymore. Come on, Brie, I’m taking you back to the academy.”
“Oh no, she can’t go!” splutters Sophie. “She needs more coaching if she’s to court a Savant!”
“She needs nothing of the sort. I can assure you of that. You really have no idea what’s going on here, do you?”
I offer a stern glare at Mrs Carmichael. She bites down on her tongue as Sophie speaks again.
“What does that mean? This is my work. I am sure I’m far more aware than you of what’s going on.”
“Forget it. A woman like you wouldn’t understand. Now come on, Brie, let’s get you home.”
She moves in to try to help me to my feet. I feel myself naturally sliding from the bed and planting my feet on the floor. Like her, I’d rather not be here any longer either.
And yet, this argument has gone on long enough.
“No,” I say, pushing my guardian lightly away. She withdraws in surprise. Sophie smiles triumphantly.
“You see. She wants to stay and continue her training…”
“She wants nothing of the sort!”
“WOULD YOU BOTH SHUT UP!”
I shout so loud that my head feels like it might explode again. I wince hard and grit my teeth. For a few seconds, a violent skirmish begins inside my skull. Slowly, it fades as the room turns silent.
I take a long breath, and re-open my eyes.
“You two are like a couple of bickering children. It’s pathetic. Honestly, I’ve got far more important things to be doing than listening to this rubbish. Sophie, thank you for guiding me through things so far. But I don’t feel comfortable here, and I’m going to go back to the academy.”
Now, it’s Mrs Carmichael whose face morphs with a rare show of victory.
“And you, Brenda,” I say, rounding on her, “need to apologise to Sophie. She is only doing her job, and whatever you might think of it, you have no right to insult her like you did.”
She dips her eyes like a kid being reprimanded by her mother. Then she lifts them again and guides them to Sophie’s.
“I apologise, Sophie, for being rude,” she begins. “I’ve been up all night with worry. And, well, I’m cranky at the best of times.” Her attempt at humour doesn’t fall completely flat. Her lips grind into a tight smile, and Sophie’s follow. “Will you accept my apology?”
“Of course, Brenda,” utters Sophie, her words carrying a hint of reluctance. “Stress can…twist words. I won’t hold them against you.”
“Thank you. For understanding.”
The exchange is somewhat tense and terse. Both women look at each other with a measure of animosity that their false words cannot hide. I don’t care. I really do have more important things to worry about.
Much more important things.
“Good. Now isn’t that better?” I say, standing wearily to my feet.
I never thought I’d be in this position with Mrs Carmichael, treating her like a child. Sophie…well, that’s slightly more understandable.
“If you really don’t want to stay here, I understand,” says Sophie. “However, if you wish to be successful in courting Adryan, then I’m here to help. Contact me any time, OK?”
“Thanks, Soph, I appreciate that. I think – hope – I can take it from here, though.”
“Well, the offer’s always there,” she says.
With a renewed calm spreading through her, that false smile of hers reappears. I preferred her when she was shouting and crying. At least then she seemed more human.
“How will you be getting back home?” she asks, as I begin pulling on the old clothes I came here with two days ago.
“We’ll take the Conveyor Line,” says Mrs Carmichael. “And walk the rest.”
Sophie quickly shakes her head.
“No, not in the state she’s in. I’ll programme my car to take you home.”
I can tell the manner in which she suggests it annoys my guardian. It’s a nice offer, but she presents it as an order. Mrs Carmichael holds her smile, though, and refuses to react with anything but a polite nod.
“Excellent. I’ll go down and configure the journey now.”
She exits the room, Mrs Carmichael following her step with a growing scowl.
“I really do despise that woman,” she grumbles.
“Don’t start,” I say. “I’m really not in the mood.”
She turns to me with a grin.
“You really are changing, Brie. You were never this assertive.”
“Well, maybe that’s my Savant side coming through,” I suggest flippantly.
Although, really, there might be some truth to that.
“Perhaps. Just don’t let it take too firm a grip,” she warns.
My eyes darken at the thought.
“Never,” I growl.
Heading downstairs, we find Sophie at the door, waiting and ready to see us off. She offers Mrs Carmichael a cursory nod as she passes and steps into the car. At least she manages to say thank you this time for letting us use her car.
I get a far more affectionate farewell. She pulls me into a hug and once more – quietly this time so Mrs Carmichael doesn’t hear – offers me a hearty congratulations for ‘bagging a Savant’.
“It’s such a rare thing, Brie, I trust you know this. It’s the highest calling for any of us Outer Haveners. Please, don’t throw the opportunity away. If you need my help, do call.”
“I will. Of course I will.”
“Good. That’s all I want to hear, with your, ahem, guardian around. I’ll make sure I inform the Council of Matrimony that you’ll be contactable at the academy. Usually, they’d send correspondence to me, and I’d manage your transition and the dates and details of your courtship. But, if you want to go it alone, that’s OK.”
“Thanks again for understanding, Sophie. I’ll see you again soon, I’m sure.”
I suspect that her eagerness to maintain some involvement in my courtship with Adryan is to get some additional prestige herself. She has passion for her work, I’ll give her that.
However, what she doesn’t know is that this is all just a sham. Sure, I’ll have to go through official channels to ensure my budding ‘relationship’ with Adryan doesn’t appear suspicious, but other than that I have little interest in doing anything more than I have to.
When it comes to it, I’m sure I’ll be able to fit in over there easily enough. So far, there’s been no danger. When my abilities manifest, however, and I’m over in the lion’s den, I’ll have my wits about me at all times.
No coaching from Sophie is going to change that.
So, with another abbreviated embrace, I’m set on my way. I step into the car, shut the door, and am chauffeured back home.
Home.
Soon, I’m sure, that word will take on a new meaning.
36
It’s odd how a place you’ve lived your entire life can suddenly seem like the house of a stranger.
The comfort and security I used to feel stepping through the doors of Carmichael’s are no longer present. No longer do I look upon it as a beacon in the city, a place where I can relax and truly be myself.
Now, like everywhere else I go, I feel like an imposter. Like my life is a lie, and always has been.
At the core of it, I’m beginning to feel like I don’t belong.
And that being myself is an alien concept too. Because, really, I don’t know who I am either.
Tess’s continued chagrin doesn’t help. Since we were girls, we’ve been best friends, despite our different personalities and outlooks on the world. Thrust together by
Mrs Carmichael, we’ve even grown into sisters. It pains me that our paths are now diverging so dramatically.
She was only 9 years old when she came here following the deaths of her parents. Deaths, I suppose, is putting it lightly.
They were murdered, and brutally so. Cut down in front of her during a robbery. I can barely imagine what that must be like for a girl of such a young age, how it would scar her. And when she first came here, she wasn’t the girl she is today.
She was a shadow, and little more. She drifted about the place, keeping mostly to herself, lost to her thoughts and terrible nightmares. I was charged by Mrs Carmichael with becoming a shadow myself: a shadow to her, following her around and helping her transition into life at the academy.
It was so different for her than it was for me. She’d had a taste of a normal life, felt the love of her true parents before it was snatched away so violently. I always considered that I had it much easier. I’d never had to taste such pain, suffer the loss of those who’d given me life.
Some people consider never having known your parents the worst of all fates. I disagree. Never have I seen someone so broken as when Tess first came here. Her world had been stripped away, never to be the same again.
Gradually, however, she emerged from her shell. Yet always she’s kept her hard edge, one forged that day her parents died. Tough and uncompromising, Tess has always found it difficult to find joy in anything.
And she’s always had a fondness for holding a grudge.
This one seems set to last a while. In the past our arguments have been brief, Tess’s frosty moods lasting a day or two before thawing. Yet until I explain to her how my life is changing – how I am changing – I suspect her rancour will remain, brewing and festering inside her.
And in the academy, I feel that winter chill descending. When I return to my room, my head starting to throb once more, my eyes praying for darkness, I find her descending back into shadow, coiled on her bed like a snake ready to strike.
The darkness inside her, always simmering beneath the surface, is rising once more to the fore.
I try to warm up the atmosphere with a simple: “Hey.”