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Half Lost

Page 7

by Sally Green


  * * *

  I’ve pretty much decided to go to see Ledger, but Greatorex wants me, Nesbitt, and Gabriel to help secure the camp first. Greatorex is establishing a new routine of daily checks in the immediate vicinity and weekly checks in a wider area. Each Alliance camp is connected to the others by a cut, with one escape cut leading somewhere far away. Greatorex says, “The network of cuts that link them allows us to keep the camps small and less visible, but the cuts themselves may be a problem. There’s at least one Hunter who can sense where they are.”

  I nod. “My father thought it might be best to fill the world with cuts. Overload the Hunters with information.”

  “Nice idea, but at the moment we’ll keep hiding and moving frequently.”

  A few of the trainees are sent out close to the camp for the daily check, and I go further out with Nesbitt and Gabriel, looking for any signs of Hunter activity.

  It’s good to get out of the camp for a few days. Me, Nesbitt, and Gabriel agree on an area to cover each day, splitting up in the morning and meeting again in the evening. We take three days to make a wide circuit of Camp Three and find nothing alarming; on the contrary, it looks like a good place.

  And every day I practice my Gifts. Invisibility, flames, and lightning are all getting stronger and more controllable and I even think at one point that I’m on the verge of stopping time. Only I’m not stopping time. That isn’t what my father did. He stopped the world, or slowed it down so much that it seemed to stop. And I do what I saw my father do, rub my palms together in a circle, and as I do that I think of the world turning and then I put the palms of my hands on my head, and as I do that I think of the world stopping but me carrying on moving. And I look up and see all is still around me. I turn to Gabriel and he’s still, watching me. And then it starts again. Gabriel blinks.

  “Did you notice anything?” I ask him.

  “Something funny happened with your head,” he replies. “One second you were looking away, then you were looking right at me.”

  I grin at him. “I think I’ve done my first ever stopping of time.”

  “Do it again?”

  And I try and it doesn’t work, but I know that I just need to keep practicing.

  The final night before we head back to camp we’re lying by the fire. Nesbitt’s snoring is quiet, but I can’t sleep with it so I sit up and poke at the embers.

  Gabriel hasn’t said much all evening; he lights a cigarette, which he must have got from Van, drags on it, and passes it to me. He says, “Your control over your Gifts has improved. Still not as strong as your father, but definitely better.”

  I puff a smoke ring and then blow a narrow flame through the middle of it.

  Gabriel says, “Nice trick.”

  I breathe out another smoke ring and try an even more delicate stream of flame through its middle.

  “I’m not so sure you need any help from Ledger to improve your Gifts. I mean, she may be able to give you a few pointers, but really all you need is time and practice.”

  “Uh-huh.” I huff out a large ring of flame. “I can do that and still go after the amulet.”

  “And the amulet might work, but on the other hand it might not.”

  “Are you trying to say I shouldn’t go?”

  “I’m trying to say that maybe we should think of other options.”

  “Such as?”

  He stubs the cigarette out on the ground and then turns to look at me. “Leaving completely. Leaving the war. Leaving it all.”

  “Like the other Black Witches have done? You tired of it too?”

  “Of course I’m tired of it! I’m tired of the cold. Tired of being hungry. Tired of being afraid. Being out here these last few days has reminded me of what we used to be like. It used to be fun. You, in your own individual way, used to be fun.”

  “It’s war, that’s what you said.”

  “Yes, it’s war and I’m tired of it. And . . . I’m getting tired of you, Nathan. I never thought I’d say that, but it’s true. I’m tired of your revenge, your anger, your hate. The war is killing you. Not your body but your mind, your soul. You’ve changed. I feel I’m losing you. Or you’re losing yourself. You don’t need Ledger or the amulet. You don’t need to kill Annalise. You don’t need any of it. What you need is to get away from it. Get back into nature like we have done these last few days, before the war turns you into something else . . . something bad.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in all the good versus evil stuff. I thought you said there was no good or bad in it.”

  “That was about using your Gift. There isn’t anything good or bad in the animal you.”

  “I’ve killed people when he took over, when the animal took over.”

  “You killed for food or to survive. You didn’t murder people in their sleep.”

  I shake my head. “No. If I kill as an animal, I eat people, Gabriel. And I’ll tell you something—eating people isn’t good. None of it’s good. If I kill as an animal or a person, the end result is the same: there’s another dead body at my feet.”

  “As an animal you don’t kill through hate.”

  “Hunters are my enemies. Do you want me to love them to death?”

  Gabriel shakes his head. “I said before all this started that the Alliance would only be interested in how many you could kill, and you’d kill a lot. I stand by that. They want you to get the amulet and kill Soul for them. And they’ll let you kill many others along the way.”

  “You want Soul to carry on?”

  “No. But I’m more concerned for you than him.”

  “If I get the amulet and it works I’ll be invulnerable.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about. Another thing I said was that I thought Annalise would see the Black Witch side of you, see the killing you do, see how you change, and she’d come to dread you. I stand by that too. Though I admit I wasn’t that bothered about it. I never liked her, never trusted her, never understood your attraction to her. And I admit I wanted her to see that side of you. I wanted her to realize that you weren’t right for each other. But . . . what makes you Nathan—what makes you so special—is that you are both White Witch and Black Witch, both dark and full of light. That’s what I love about you. What I’ve always loved. And I love you still, Nathan, and I know I always will. But you’re changing. And now . . . now what I fear is that you’ll get the amulet and you’ll hone the Gifts you took from your father. You’ll be invulnerable and you’ll kill more people, many, many more people. I fear you won’t be able to stop and you’ll lose yourself completely. And then I’ll come to dread you too.”

  Spit

  I sit up and watch the fire, thinking about what Gabriel said to me. Of course I don’t want him to dread me but I remember my vision and him beckoning me over, the gun in his hand. Would he ever shoot me? I can’t believe that. Even if he dreaded me, he wouldn’t do that. And as for all the stuff about losing myself—I feel like for years I didn’t really know who I was, but now that I know I’m more and more like my father, I feel clearer about that, good about that. To do what I need to do, to kill Soul and Wallend and bring an end to their reign of terror, I have to be as tough and ruthless as Marcus was.

  The next day we have one last slow scout around and then work our way back to Camp Three, arriving as it’s getting dark. Nesbitt immediately goes to look for Van, but Greatorex tells us that she has left because she was needed at Camp One.

  I ask her, “Has something happened?”

  “You need a haircut,” a different voice interrupts before Greatorex can reply.

  I turn to find Celia looking me up and down. I haven’t seen her for months and I inspect her too. She’s looking tired and thinner but otherwise as neat and ugly as ever.

  She says, “Good to see you’re still with him, Gabriel.”

  We sit by the campfire and Celi
a asks about my Gifts and I tell her I think I might be able to stop time soon. I expect some criticism for attacking the Hunter camp but she’s more interested than irritated and seems pleased that I managed to overcome eight of them. “But, of course, eight is nothing. Eighty is how many you will have to beat if you want to get to Soul.”

  I expect her to go on about the amulet but she doesn’t mention it.

  I ask, “And if I do go up against Soul, how many Alliance soldiers will there be to back me up?”

  “In truth, not as many as I’d like. But Soul rules by fear. If we can defeat him, many of those too scared to stand up and fight him now will come over to our side. Then I do believe that we have a chance of working together, Whites, Blacks, Half Bloods. It won’t be easy and there will always be troublemakers, but if all are considered equal and treated equally under the law then we’ll have a fair society, a better society for us all.”

  I still struggle to believe Celia is saying this. The woman who kept me chained in a cage now does seem to genuinely believe in a world where Black and White Witches can live together peacefully. And here I am, a Half Code sitting between her, a White Witch, and Gabriel, a Black Witch.

  But the conversation is strange. All this talk of Blacks and Whites and no mention of the amulet, which I thought she’d be desperate for me to get. I wonder what’s up, or if she’s hiding something.

  It suddenly occurs to me that I haven’t asked about Arran, and I’m shocked that I haven’t thought of my brother until now. I haven’t seen him since the days after BB. He was with Celia then, helping with healing as best he could, though there was hardly anyone to heal. Most were dead. I brace myself to ask about him, wondering if this is what Celia is hiding, but she seems to guess what I’m thinking and says, “Arran’s well. He’s a good healer, a good person to have in the Alliance. He’s a reasonable voice. Although he’s quiet, Blacks and Whites listen to him.”

  So back to the issue of Black Witches and White Witches again.

  Celia leaves us to go to her tent for the night and I wonder again why she’s really come to Camp Three. Is it to see me? To see Greatorex? Is there a problem with the Alliance? And why has Van disappeared just when she was going to tell me how to find Ledger?

  * * *

  The next morning I go with Gabriel to watch the trainees sparring. Nesbitt joins in. He loves the chance to wrestle with women. Gabriel and I offer helpful advice to the trainees, and one of them eventually manages to kick Nesbitt in the balls.

  Donna is there too, sitting opposite us like last time, and I see the zip ties are still on.

  I say to Gabriel, “Donna’s going to spend the rest of her life with her hands tied.”

  “Nesbitt told me that Van had started to make up a special truth potion for her but hadn’t finished it before she had to go to Camp One. So, yes, she’ll be like that for a while.”

  “I think I was right not to trust her: her answers under the simple truth potion were odd.” But then as I look at the trainees I realize I like Donna more than them and I say, only partly joking, “Mind you, I wouldn’t trust any of them as far as I could throw them.”

  Nesbitt flops on the ground near us, his eyes still glued on the trainees, and says, “Who do you want to throw?”

  Gabriel looks him over. “Nesbitt, do you know that if you add up the ages of all the trainees and multiply that by the number of times you manhandled them, the resulting number would still only be half the age they think you are?”

  Nesbitt laughs and says, “Yes, but have you noticed how few blokes there are around here? There are at least two girls to every fella, and some of these girls are bound to be—”

  “Desperate?”

  “Interested in a more mature person.”

  “What!”

  “And, though I say so myself, I’m keeping myself in order these days.” He slaps his stomach and I have to admit that where there used to be a little bit of flab there is now nothing but muscle. But then no one here is flabby; our diets aren’t exactly rich. “OK, I’m a little older but—”

  “A little!” Gabriel and I reply in unison.

  “Ageist, that’s what you fellas are!”

  “There is one woman here who I’ve heard admiring you, Nesbitt,” Gabriel says. “White Witch. Blonde.”

  “So many blondes here,” Nesbitt says with a whimper.

  “Intelligent too. And super fit,” Gabriel continues.

  Nesbitt surveys the trainees. “Hmm? Which one?”

  Gabriel doesn’t reply and Nesbitt looks to him. “Well? Come on, mate, share.”

  “She arrived in camp last night.”

  “Celia?” Nesbitt pulls a face and then laughs.

  Just then Adele comes over and says, “Celia wants a word with you, Nesbitt.”

  “Ha! It might be that she’s after me, fellas.” Nesbitt gets to his feet, brushing himself down. “Well, desperate times and all that.”

  “And she wants to speak to you too,” Adele adds, and I glance up at her but realize she’s talking to Gabriel, not me.

  Adele leads Gabriel and Nesbitt back to Celia. Greatorex must be there too as she’s not with the trainees. I wonder when I’ll be summoned.

  It’s less than an hour before Adele comes back and asks me to go with her. Celia is sitting near the fire, Greatorex sitting to her right, Nesbitt and Gabriel standing to her left. They’re all watching me as I approach. Nesbitt seems nervous and is muttering something in Gabriel’s ear.

  Gabriel comes toward me as I approach. He looks so serious I feel instantly on alert. I’ve no idea what this is about but it isn’t good, whatever it is.

  I stop. Gabriel is facing me, half blocking my way to Celia, his shoulder close to mine. He’s near me, not holding me back but touching my arm with his body.

  “What’s happening?” I ask him.

  “Celia will explain, but please, Nathan, try to keep calm.”

  Celia says, “Sit down, Nathan. We need to talk.”

  “I can talk standing up.”

  Celia stands too, as does Greatorex. “There have been some developments that I need to tell you about. There are some Black Witches at Camp One who aren’t happy. Gus and a few others are causing some trouble.”

  I’ve met Gus on a couple of occasions, one being when my father cut his ear off for attacking me. I’m not surprised he’s causing trouble.

  “That’s why I asked Van to go back,” Celia continues. “She’s a well-respected Black Witch. Well respected by both Blacks and Whites. She’ll calm things down.”

  “Are you going to get to the point?” I ask.

  “The unrest is because of a prisoner we have there.”

  “A prisoner?”

  And I feel like I can’t catch my breath, like I already know what’s coming next, but I daren’t think it in case I’m wrong and there are no clues on Celia’s face and even when she says “Annalise” I daren’t quite believe it in case I heard wrong so I say, “Annalise?”

  Celia says, “Yes, she’s our prisoner. She’s at Camp One.”

  And I need a second to get my head together. I know this isn’t straightforward, and the way they are all being with me is like they don’t trust me, but they have her. She hasn’t got away. I find I’m saying, “I need to go there, to Camp One.”

  “We’ll come to that in a minute. First, you need to understand the situation, Nathan.” Celia hesitates and then goes on. “We caught Annalise a few days after BB. She—”

  “What? But then . . . you’ve had her for weeks? Months?”

  “It’s three months.”

  “And no one’s bothered to tell me?”

  “I’m telling you now.”

  Celia’s voice is low and quiet. Mine is not as I say, “I’ve been scouring the fucking country for her!”

  “Yes, I know.”


  I swear again.

  “And who else knew you had her?” I ask, glaring around. Nesbitt at least doesn’t look away so I know he didn’t know, and Gabriel, still close to me, meets my eyes too, but with a look that says everything.

  “You knew?” I ask him. “You knew and didn’t tell me?”

  “I’d heard a rumor. I had an idea what might have happened and—”

  “You didn’t think to share that rumor with me? Didn’t think to tell me what idea you had?” I swear at him and turn away. “So all the time I was out searching for her, with you telling me not to risk my life attacking Hunters, you could have stopped me at any time by telling me about your ‘idea’?”

  “I didn’t know you were going to attack the Hunters.”

  But I can’t listen to him. I can’t make sense of it. I don’t know why he wouldn’t tell me about Annalise. He knew it was driving me insane. “You knew about her and told me nothing!”

  “I was trying—”

  “You told me nothing.” I lean forward to shout in his face. “Nothing!”

  “I was—”

  “I trusted you,” I hiss at him.

  Now Gabriel leans in to me, close to my face, and hisses back, “No, you don’t trust me—not anymore. You don’t tell me what you’re doing or what you’ve done. You disappear for days and don’t tell me where you’ve been, who you’ve killed. You tell me the minimum when you have to. When it suits you.”

  I can’t believe he’s blaming me. He’s hidden Annalise and he’s blaming me! I spit at Gabriel. The spit lands on his cheek.

  Gabriel stares at me. I’ve never seen him angry before. And Nesbitt is getting in between us, pushing Gabriel away from me and saying to him, “He’s just being Nathan. You’ve got to love him for it really.”

  Celia shouts, “Nathan, you need to calm down.”

  I turn from Gabriel to Celia, and swear at her and then I take a breath and say, “I take it everyone else knew?”

  “Greatorex knew and had orders not to tell you, to keep you out of Camp One, which turned out to be easy, as you hardly even spent time at Camp Three.”

 

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