Mia smiled triumphantly. “Ah-ha! It’s bigger than it looks.”
She swung hard, forcing the magnets that held it together to snap apart. The segments sprang out, and the tip smashed into a bronze bowl filled with multi-colored candies. The bowl flew across the room, smashed into the opposite wall, and scattered candies everywhere. Mia gasped in horror.
“I’ll pick them up.” Felicité seemed to be stifling a giggle.
The mayor was trying not to laugh, too.
So was Mr. Preston, clearly. His voice shook slightly as he said, “That’s an interesting implement, Mia.”
“I made one for Ross, for inside the ruined city. In case there was something in there totally different, you know, that regular weapons might not handle, or if he was too busy to get his weapons out, on account of prospecting, and then there’s his left hand, which, you know, he’s still getting used to the gauntlet . . .”
Mr. Preston and Mayor Wolfe looked at Mia with identical expressions of doubt.
Mia forced herself to stop babbling. “I thought he might need it.”
Mr. Preston exchanged a long look with the mayor, who gave a tiny nod.
Felicité glanced up from the floor. “Should I get my scribe implements?”
Mr. Preston began to say, “That’s not necessary,” but the mayor laid her fingers on his wrist. “An excellent idea, Felicité. Let’s put this on the official record.”
Felicité ran to fetch her tools. Mia hastily scooped up the candies while Mr. Preston examined her cudgel, snapping it in and out. Then he returned it. “I have never forgotten that you saved my life, Mia.”
Mia swallowed. She’d completely forgotten to remind him!
“Let’s give your idea a try,” Mr. Preston said.
The mayor took the bowl of ruined candies. Mia caught herself before she could wipe her sticky fingers on Dad’s good pants.
“I concur,” the mayor said, setting down the bowl. “Perhaps Kerry will open up more to another teenager.”
Mr. Preston put his fists on his knees. “Let’s set down some rules, shall we? Mia, never let her out of your sight. She goes back to jail every night, or if you have a job outside the walls. Never tell her anything important about the town. And every night, write down everything she said that you didn’t already know, even if it seems insignificant.”
“I promise,” said Mia.
Chapter Twenty-Eight. Las Anclas.
Kerry
As Kerry waited for her new guard, she reviewed everything Min Soo had taught her about ingratiating herself with people. If it got her out of Las Anclas alive, she’d apologize to her mother and admit that she had been right. This much was surely true: you couldn’t rely on techniques that only worked if you were already in power. You also had to know how to create power—the power of influence—from a powerless position.
Preston would surely find a guard who was even bigger and meaner than him. How should she handle it? Brave and stoic? Sorrowful? Weak and non-threatening? She loathed the idea of pretending to be weak, but if made the guard careless . . .
In came Brisa, hand in hand with a freckled blonde girl, pale as an overwashed sock. That was the girlfriend Kerry had heard so much about? Kerry had expected her to be prettier.
“Hi, Princess Kerry!” Brisa chirped. “Dr. Lee said Becky could examine your face. How’s it feeling today?”
Kerry put fake brightness into her voice. “Oh, it’s fine.”
Both girls looked gratifyingly indignant. Kerry was certain they were picturing Preston and his ham hands. Kerry had felt how swollen her face was, and she’d caught a flash of pity, then anger on Dr. Lee’s face when he’d examined her injuries the night before. Much as it hurt—she hadn’t been able to sleep on that side—it had to look even worse.
Becky spoke in such a soft voice Kerry barely heard her. “If you could come to the cell door, I’d like to apply some witch hazel.” She held up a bottle and a piece of linen.
Kerry stood still under Becky’s careful ministrations, as Brisa said, “Can we get you anything? Is the food all right?”
“The food is fine. I’m just bored. Well, to be honest, lonely.” Kerry watched in satisfaction as Becky looked sympathetic and Brisa gazed down guiltily. “Could you two stay and keep me company?”
Brisa said reluctantly, “We have to go to school. But we can come back in the evening.”
“Thank you,” Kerry said, trying to sound sad but brave.
“But you’ll be out soon,” Becky consoled her.
“Hey, that gives me an idea,” exclaimed Brisa. “Everybody wants to meet you. We could throw you a party!”
The deputy spoke up, startling all three. “Nobody is throwing the prisoner a party.”
Brisa scowled. Becky hung her head. Kerry said wistfully, “Thank you anyway. It was a sweet idea.”
The girls said a subdued goodbye and walked out. Before they reached the jail door, they were whispering.
Kerry turned away to hide her grin. Those girls had to be planning a secret party. Perfect. Assuming she could somehow get to it, Kerry would have all her potential allies gathered conveniently together for her inspection.
She lay on her cot, preparing for her second challenge of the day, the guard. But when the door opened again, the last person Kerry expected walked in: Ross’s grubby girlfriend, Mia.
The girl unclipped a pair of manacles from her belt. Her hands shook nervously, making them clank together. “I made these myself. I tried them on. They should be comfortable. I mean, for walking around in.”
Kerry revised her tactics. Be nice, but not so nice you seem fake. The more sincere you are, the more believable you’ll be. She did have something sincerely grateful to say. This girl did not have to go out of her way to provide the prisoner with comfort.
Kerry offered her wrists. “That’s very considerate.”
The deputy cut in. “You try anything, just remember, most people in this town would love to be the one to take you down.”
Kerry gave him a shocked, reproachful glance. “I would never hurt her. She hasn’t done anything to me.”
The deputy said with obvious disbelief, “The keys are on my belt, Mia.” And he leveled his rifle at Kerry.
“Thanks, Mia,” Kerry said.
Mia unlocked the door and cautiously approached Kerry. “If you move slowly, the chain stays as it is. If you move fast, it snaps together and locks.”
Clever, Kerry thought. Still, if Mia stopped watching Kerry for fifteen minutes or so, she could create a file and saw through the chain. Slowly.
Kerry went out, relieved that the manacles were light enough to allow her to walk easily, and surveyed the town from the jailhouse porch. There were long buildings behind the jail, and behind those rose the wall, with sentries every fifty paces. A huge square with buildings all around lay in front of her.
Every person in sight stopped whatever they were doing to stare at Kerry. Some teens seemed curious, and one fluttered her fingers in a half wave. But the adults either gave her a hostile glower, or walked away as if Kerry were invisible. But they knew she was there. Even without the manacles, if she made a break for it, she’d be jumped within seconds. As it was, she could take comfortable but small steps, but even without the snap effect, running would be impossible.
It had rained in the night. To test the limits of the manacles, Kerry raised her hand with medium speed and made an umbrella. As she stepped under the dripping eaves, water bounced off the air above her head and sluiced down at either side.
She was surprised by an excited squeak from Mia.
“That is so cool!” Mia exclaimed. “They told me about your power, but I hadn’t realized how versatile it is. I thought you could only make weapons.”
Mia’s obvious delight in Kerry’s power called Ross to mind. “Go ahead. Touch it, if you want.”
Mia grinned. “Can I?” She stretched out a finger. “This part feels like wood. I can even feel the grain.” She stood on he
r tiptoes and spread her fingers, patting gently. “And this is silk, right? Is it based on a real umbrella you have?”
Kerry was startled. No one had ever figured that out so quickly before, not that she often got quizzed about her power. There didn’t seem to be any reason to conceal the truth. “Yes, it is.”
“How old were you when you got your power?” Mia asked. “You were born with it, right? It seems like it would take that much practice to get that much control.”
“Yes. When I was a little girl, I could only do simple things, like sticks.” Since her power intrigued Mia, Kerry ran with it. She made a stick, bent, and—she only knew how to design clothing—sketched Mia’s overalls in the mud.
Mia laughed. “Perfect!”
“You really stupid enough to make fun of your guard, Princess?”
A bunch of teenage boys came up, with a tall hulking one in the lead.
“Who’re they?” Kerry asked under her breath.
Mia whispered, “Tommy Horst and his Norm friends.”
Tommy kicked away the drawing. “Your mighty Change power didn’t give you any more talent than it did smarts.” The way he said ‘Change’ made it sound like ‘cockroach.’
A blond boy laughed and drew his finger in the air as if he was chalking something on a slate. “Horst: two points. Princess: zero. Come on, Princess. Show us what you’ve got.”
“Henry, leave us alone, okay?” Mia asked.
The boys ignored Mia, whose shoulders hunched in intimidation. Because of the boys’ size? Because of their social status?
If Mia was assigned to guard Kerry, she couldn’t be that low in the town hierarchy. But maybe it was like Santiago being set to guard Ross: Mia wasn’t important in herself, but was close to someone important.
The thought of Santiago hurt, like bumping a bruise.
“You want to be aloooone with the princess, Mia?” asked one of the boys. “Have you forgotten all about your mutant boyfriend?”
Tommy chimed in, “And found a mutant girlfriend!”
Henry began making kissing noises, which were promptly picked up by the rest of the boys.
Kerry considered possible reactions. Being hostile to anti-Changed bigots wouldn’t make Kerry look bad to Mia, who obviously cared about Ross. And since Mia seemed too timid to stand up for herself, she might appreciate being defended.
Kerry faced Henry and Tommy. “I notice you two weren’t on the mission to capture me. What were you doing here while the competent people were at Gold Point? Hiding?”
Mia laughed in surprise, but turned it into a cough.
Oh, yes. This felt good. “You boys think you’re so tough?” Kerry gave them Father’s smile, exulting inside when two boys actually stepped back. “The reason my father has an empire is that he rewards success. But the reward for failure is death. You two, with your stupid prejudice against Change powers, are walking, talking failures. Remember that when he arrives with his army.”
Henry’s head turned sharply. Kerry automatically shifted to a defensive stance. Then she relaxed at the sight of a pretty girl with her hair dyed bright red, but still glossy and soft-looking. That took expensive dye. Her clothes looked even more costly—a matching hat, frilly parasol, gloves, scarf, and a veil in eggshell blue.
The girl cradled a golden rat in her arms as she minced along in high-heeled boots, avoiding puddles as if they were acid.
The boys shut up and looked at the newcomer as if waiting for cues on how to behave.
“Who’s that?” Kerry whispered.
“Felicité Wolfe,” Mia whispered back.
Preston’s daughter!
“Tommy. Henry. Is this any way to treat our visitor?” Felicité’s voice was sweet as mesquite syrup.
Imagining that she was swallowing down a candied rose petal, Kerry said, “Hello, Felicité. I’ve heard all about you, but I didn’t know you had such beautiful red hair.”
Felicité’s cheeks dimpled as she smiled. “It was golden until recently. I hope your night wasn’t too bad, Princess?”
“Not at all,” Kerry said in Min Soo’s sweetest voice.
Felicité came right back, even sweeter. “I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.” She held out her golden rat. “This is Wu Zetian. Say hello to the princess, Wu Zetian.”
Kerry stroked the rat’s adorable, twitching pink nose. At least Wu Zetian didn’t give her a fake smile. The rat’s fur was as soft as Kogatana’s had looked, but Yuki had never let his rat within six feet of Kerry. She’d truthfully assured him that she would never dream of harming a sweet little creature like his rat, but he clearly hadn’t believed her.
Out of the corner of her eye, Kerry caught a row of boggling faces, including Mia’s.
“This way, Kerry,” Mia said. “Unless you want to visit the granary.”
Kerry followed Mia, who walked as if she wanted to get away from that crowd as quickly as she could.
Tommy’s blustering voice rose up behind them. “Henry, do you want to be on the firing squad?”
“I’m a great shot,” Henry said, laughing like it was a joke. “I dropped nearly thirty of ’em in the battle. I like target practice.”
“You should volunteer,” Tommy said.
“Me and half the town!” Henry laughed louder.
“Tommy,” reproved Felicité. “Don’t you all have wall duty?”
From behind came the sound of scampering feet.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that, Kerry.” Mia seemed to struggle inwardly, then said firmly, “It won’t happen. I can’t imagine anyone looking someone in the eyes—someone who can’t fight back—and pulling the trigger.”
Kerry could imagine it. She’d been attending executions since she was five.
As they skirted a patchwork of pocket gardens and entered a wide street, a string of children ran by, turning to stare at Kerry.
“There’s the monster,” one squeaked.
“You’re a monster,” another snapped.
“Ma says to be proud of your Change,” a third put in.
“Come on, we’re gonna be late for school,” the biggest said.
As they ran off again, one of the kids shrilled, “Everybody knows Voske is the real monster!”
Half the citizens in Gold Point didn’t even dare say Father’s name. Those kids would learn fast enough when he took the town.
Kerry glanced over the low tiled roofs, hoping to spot the wall. But she couldn’t see past a stand of timber.
“Here we are.” Mia stopped at a cottage with a yard full of metal scraps and machines, many of them clearly artifacts. Kerry had seen such things before, of course, but not so many at once.
Mia shifted uneasily. Kerry understood. This was Mia’s private space. Some fools—maybe even Tom Preston’s dainty daughter—must look at those disassembled artifacts and see a junk heap. Mia was probably bracing for some similar comment.
“This is a treasure trove,” Kerry said, letting her admiration show. She nearly added that Father paid well for such useful items, then decided that mentioning him would ruin the moment.
Mia blushed, then led her inside. A dismantled crossbow lay on a work table, and a disassembled engine rested on the bed. The second table had several projects in various states of progress.
There were two chairs. Hanging over the back of one was a worn shirt that was too big for Mia, but just right for Ross. The way it sagged, it had been there for weeks. Kerry wondered how to make use of such obvious sentimentalism. But she couldn’t prevent the uncomfortable realization that if Santiago had been captured, she too would secretly cherish something of his.
Mia began tidying a table full of tools and papers. Kerry joined her.
“You designed this?” Kerry touched the design for Ross’s gauntlet. “And built it? It was beautifully made.”
Mia burst out, “What’s happening to Ross? Is he okay? Jennie said she’d seen him, and she said he looked okay, but that was a week ago. Is your father plann
ing to do anything to him? He’s just planning to make Ross prospect for him, right? Right?”
“Yes, exactly,” Kerry said soothingly. “He wants Ross to prospect inside our ruined city. Ross has an incredibly valuable talent. My father would never hurt him.”
Mia carefully set down the gauntlet design. “Even if Ross won’t work for him?”
Both her parents had warned Kerry that many people notice outright lies, but far fewer could detect lies of omission and shadings of the truth. “My father intends to persuade Ross to do it voluntarily.”
Kerry turned away to examine the crossbows. Mia was watching her so closely that Kerry was afraid that her worry about Santiago might show and be misinterpreted. Ross was in no danger. He could easily let those crystal trees kill Santiago, then walk away free.
Mia’s voice rose. “Is there something wrong? Did something bad happen to Ross? Please tell me.”
“He’s fine. Really.”
“What was he doing the last time you saw him?”
Kerry had to lie. If she said anything related to Father’s plans for Santiago, she might lose control of her voice. “Father loaned him one of the royal horses, Sally. Ross loves riding her.”
Mia gave her a very strange look. “Ross loves riding, huh?”
Kerry immediately knew her lie had been caught. She had to be more careful about what she said about Ross to Mia, who knew him much better than Kerry did.
Mia said shortly, “I have to get to work.”
“Can I watch?” Kerry asked—as if she had a choice. It was that, or back to the cell.
Mia looked up warily. “Sure.”
Kerry prepared to be bored as Mia started arranging an incomprehensible pile of mechanical parts. But she needed to repair the damage she’d done.
“What are you making?” Kerry asked in her best Encouragement Tone.
It worked. And to Kerry’s surprise, she found Mia’s explanations about energy and efficiency interesting. You could translate that to military efficiency, Kerry thought as she watched Mia’s sure hands dart among the gears and pulleys and bolts.
“Want some lunch?” Mia’s voice was decidedly more friendly.
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