by Natasha Ngan
‘What story has Alba been telling you, huh?’ he asked, sitting down. He peeled Mika off him and set her back on her feet.
Mika snuggled in his lap. ‘One about her friend Dolly! She was a naughty maid. She showed Alba how to trap frogs by the lake and then put them in the servants’ beds!’ She squirmed, looking wide-eyed at Alba. ‘Can you teach me? Please! I want to try it on Loe!’
Alba glanced away. ‘Soon,’ she promised.
Seven pinched Mika’s cheeks. ‘Go help Loe with dinner – otherwise you know she’ll probably end up poisoning us.’
Giggling, Mika ran off and swung down the ladder, leaving Seven and Alba alone.
‘Any more news?’ Alba asked quietly.
He nodded. ‘I caught a little on the way back.’ Shifting closer, he took one of her hands and cradled it in his lap with both of his. ‘There’ve been more uprisings in South. Sounds like the new stand-in Lord Minister is doing his best to deal with it, trying to create a better relationship between North and South. Seems like there’s good progress on the investigation into TMK now, too. More evidence coming through. And … ’ Seven hesitated, watching her carefully. ‘Those involved with TMK have been charged with murder. Their trails will start in a few weeks.’
‘Good,’ Alba said. Her voice was hard. She took a deep breath. ‘I mean, as long as the trials are fair and just. The nationwide ban on executions is still in place, isn’t it?’
She avoided Seven’s eyes, and he knew she was thinking of her father.
‘Yeah, it is.’
Alba relaxed a little at his answer. Seven moved closer so he was sitting at her side, his back propped against the wall. He tucked an arm round her shoulders. She leant in, pressing her face into his chest. She smelled of straw – what didn’t now? – and of that soft, floral scent of hers.
He thought of how broken she’d been after the Winter-turn Ball. How stepping into the shadow of that willow had transformed her somehow. She’d left something behind there; something more than Dolly’s body.
Seven didn’t know if she’d ever get it back.
Alba hadn’t said a word the whole journey from Hyde Park Estate, Seven driving wildly out of the break in the fence that the Movement had cut for their getaway, then through the moonlit streets of North to the river. Nobody had chased them. The entire London Guard must have been at the Ball, fighting the Movement.
She’d continued to be silent as they’d crossed the river on a water-taxi – illegally paid for with Alba’s necklace – to pick up Mika from Loe’s home at Bankside. Because of course the London Guard hadn’t given Loe the reward they’d promised for her giving up information on Seven. After that, they’d travelled for hours up the Thames, far out of the city and deep into unregulated country land.
Alba still hadn’t spoken when they made camp in a forest near the river, lost in endless countryside, moving every day, Seven having to steal food and other supplies from farmhouses and local villages.
It was only when they’d come across this unused barn that she finally, finally spoke.
‘I’m tired. Can we stop here for a little while?’
Everyone had seemed glad she’d suggested it. They were all tired, all craving a place to stop and call home, even if it was only temporary.
They’d been in the barn now for a week. Each day, Seven and Loe – they were the two thieves of the group after all – went to steal the things they needed: warm clothes, food, blankets. They only took the essentials to survive. Seven had had enough of stealing for a lifetime, but until they figured out where they were going to go and how they could earn money legitimately, it would have to do.
They tried to catch the news on Net programmes when they passed houses or shops. This was how they’d learnt about the impact of the Movement’s actions at the Ball. Despite its abrupt ending, the Movement’s suggestions on the night and the broadcast they’d sent out over the Net had been enough for an official national inquiry to be launched into TMK. Sung, Kola, Axel, Nihail and the rest of the Movement members were aiding the investigation, though they themselves were awaiting trial for what happened at the Ball. Seven was hoping all charges against them would be dropped once their allegations about The Memory Keepers were proved to be true.
And a few days ago, Seven and Loe had overheard a broadcast mentioning that Oxana had divorced Alastair White and left the country. They’d decided not to tell Alba. At least, not yet. Seven hadn’t told her about what he’d seen in the memory Takeshi had made him alter either. He was pretty sure he never would. Why cause her more pain?
If there was anything he and Alba had learnt from what had happened, it was that memories were sometimes best left well alone.
Before he’d left the river that afternoon, Seven had stood looking out at the rushing water. There was something he’d been wanting to do for a while and it finally felt like the right time. Bowing his head, he pulled off the long chain hanging round his neck.
The key to his memorium.
He could have thrown it away weeks ago. Before the Ball, even. As soon as his flat had been taken over by the London Guard. But something had held him back. The key represented everything it used to unlock –
New worlds.
New experiences.
Freedom.
But Seven didn’t need a key for those things any more. He didn’t need a memory-machine or skids. He didn’t need to steal parts of other people’s lives, because he finally had his own life, his own memories to make. And when he’d thrown the key into the river, watching it disappear under the churning water, he knew he could finally let go of his past and move forward into his future.
Alba gave a soft sigh, shifting under his arm, bringing him back to the barn where they were tucked up in a corner under the sloping roof. He smoothed the hair away from her cheeks and kissed her forehead.
The truth was, Seven didn’t have an effing clue about any of it. Not one. He didn’t know how long they’d be able to stay here. Where they’d go after, what they’d do, how they’d live. But he did know one thing for certain: they’d be doing it together. Alba, Loe, Mika and him.
All right, he’d be the first to admit it was a weird little family. And half the time he wondered how on earth they’d not alerted the people in the farmhouse nearby with all their squabbling. But he had a feeling they’d be OK. Because for the first time in Seven’s life, his life felt like enough. He had Alba by his side. He had someone – three someones – to love … and to love him.
Loe’s voice reached them from below.
‘Could you have caught any more puny little lumps of fish, Seven? I’ll do it myself if you’re always gonna be this rubbish.’
Well, perhaps the word love was a bit strong when it came to Loe.
‘Feel free,’ he shouted back down, grinning. ‘I’d like to see you try.’
And, though he might just have been imagining it, because it was so quiet a sound and her face was turned into his chest, buried in the fabric of his jumper, Seven thought he heard Alba let out a little snort of laughter.
Thank you for choosing a Hot Key book.
If you want to know more about our authors and what we publish, you can find us online.
You can start at our website
www.hotkeybooks.com
And you can also find us on:
We hope to see you soon!
First published in Great Britain in 2014 by Hot Key Books
Northburgh House, 10 Northburgh Street, London EC1V 0AT
Copyright © Natasha Ngan 2014
Cover photo illustration © Larry Rostant 2014
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living
or dead, is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN: 978-1-4714-0155-8
This eBook was produced using Atomik ePublisher
www.hotkeybooks.com
Hot Key Books is part of the Bonnier Publishing Group
www.bonnierpublishing.com