by Sally Green
I hang back now, expecting Annalise and Sarah to go to the stores, but they go into Celia’s tent. I hesitate and wonder if I’ve got the wrong instructions. A couple who work in the canteen turn up next and also go in. Gabriel arrives, sees me, and walks over. I ask him, “Do you know what’s going on?”
He says, “Rumor is Van’s back.”
Inside, rows of chairs have been set out and Celia and Van are sitting at the front facing them. I haven’t seen Van for a few days; Arran told me she’d been away, trying to get more Black Witches to join the rebels. Nesbitt is standing near the front, almost jumping around with excitement. He’s just got back from a reconnaissance trip. Gabriel and I stand at the back. The tent fills up with all the fighters and scouts but there are more from the other groups: Healers, Cooking and Camp, and several from Foraging and Stores, including Annalise.
Last to arrive is Marcus, who comes to stand next to me. Virtually everyone in the room takes the opportunity to turn round and look at him. I say quietly to Gabriel, “I know most of them don’t see Marcus around but they behave like he’s some sort of sideshow.”
Gabriel turns to me and even he seems to stare too. He says, “It’s more than that, Nathan. When you’re standing next to your father it’s more obvious how alike you are.” That’s when I notice that Annalise is watching us but when our eyes meet she turns back to face the front.
Marcus says to me, “Don’t you sometimes wish the whole lot of them could be swept away in a giant tidal wave?”
And I have to say, as I look around the room, that some of them I wouldn’t miss, but some I would. I don’t want Annalise to be swept away. I want her to come and stand with me.
It’s not Celia but Van who starts the meeting. She says that the camp is having problems. There are nearly two hundred people here now but few can fight and they all need to eat. Basically there are lots of people and not enough of anything else. Certainly food and water is a problem that everyone is aware of, and sanitation too. There aren’t enough tents or blankets. Torches and even cups are in short supply.
Celia explains, “The foragers will be obtaining all the items we are short of in the next few days. They will go to buy them from fain shops as before, but we’ve had an extra twenty people arrive and we must always be careful when we leave camp.”
That seems to keep people happy but someone complains about the food: no fruit, no variety, not enough meat, not enough veg, and on and on. And then the other complaints start to escalate. Why is nothing happening? Why is Soul still in power? Why is it taking so long? Why aren’t we helping the White Witches who’ve been imprisoned by Soul? And I realize that another problem is that most of these people have nothing to do all day but whinge and complain and gossip.
Van refuses to answer. She says, “That isn’t the purpose of this meeting.”
Then it’s Greatorex’s turn to explain that the fighters are short of weapons, and particularly Hunter bullets. She says, “But we get by.” And I’m grateful that she doesn’t look at Marcus as she says that. What she means is that if it wasn’t for Marcus none of our raids would have succeeded, at least not without casualties.
Now Celia takes over. She tells us that we have learned the location of a significant Hunter cache containing weapons, other equipment, and food. It’s an opportunity for us to improve our situation significantly and deal a blow to the Hunters.
“There are just sixteen Hunters guarding the cache. Six of them look experienced, the rest are trainees. Greatorex will lead the fighters in at dawn. All foragers and anyone else who can walk and carry must be ready to go and clear everything they can as soon as the fighting is over. Everyone from the camp must help.”
Annalise will be one of the foragers and in the past I hoped she wouldn’t see any of the battle but now part of me thinks, Let her see the horror of it all because that’s what it is. It’s all very well Celia saying the rebels have the moral high ground but really there is none in war. It’s all shit.
Connor
Greatorex leads us into the cut. It’s a relief to be away from all those people and all the complaining and into the quiet of the forest. We’re running through trees at the other end in no time. It’s a two-hour jog to the Hunter camp. All the foragers and everyone else are coming close behind but they’ll walk and will arrive well after the fighting is over.
We slow near the camp. It’s at the end of an unpaved track through the forest. There are two trucks parked and a number of small tents that look like they are where the Hunters sleep. There is also one large gray tent, more like a marquee. In front of that are a couple of wooden crates stacked up.
It’s just getting light. There are two Hunters on guard but already another is appearing out of one of the small tents.
Greatorex takes it all in quickly and gives instructions. There are sixteen Hunters and sixteen of us. We’re a good fighting unit. We have a few more trainees but they’re serious and good. Sameen, Claudia, and Olivia are all excellent. We fan out; we know what to do. I’m still partnered with Nesbitt. But we know each other’s ways now. It works.
Marcus goes invisible and attacks first.
I look out for runners. There are two. I go for the fastest first and by the time I’ve caught the second runner the fighting’s over. I check both the runners for tattoos but find none and I’m about to head back to the others when I realize there’s a hissing noise in my head. I’m not usually thinking about this when I’m fighting because all the Hunters have mobile phones. But this noise is strong, like many phones hissing at once.
I head back to the Hunter camp, expecting the hissing to get stronger. I think it must be something there. Perhaps one of the crates has phones in it.
As I get back, though, the hissing hasn’t really changed. I can’t work it out. There are phones here but if each Hunter has just one that’s only sixteen. The hissing in my head is louder than that. I want to ask Marcus but I can’t see him. I ask Nesbitt where he is.
“Dunno, mate. But look at this lovely loot.” He’s almost dancing round two wooden cases open on the ground, full of guns. “And there’s more in here,” he says, going inside the large gray tent.
Greatorex shouts to Sophie, a new trainee fighter, “Go get the foragers and the others! Tell them to hurry.”
I can’t see Marcus anywhere. I want to concentrate on the hissing noise but there are bodies of Hunters here, all with mobiles. I’m standing in the middle of it, trying to work that out, when Nesbitt comes out of the tent with a different problem. He’s pushing a prisoner in front of him. “Look what I found hiding in the back.”
The Hunter has his head down and his straight blond hair has fallen forward.
Nesbitt shoves the prisoner to his knees and the young man looks up.
I haven’t seen him since I was thirteen but I’d know him anywhere. And he recognizes me too.
“Nathan.”
My first thoughts aren’t about him but of Annalise. I know she cares for Connor more than her other brothers. I know he helped her escape. I try to think positively about him.
But then he says, “Nathan, they made me do it. My uncle made me join the Hunters. I don’t want any of this.”
And that makes me mad. I’m knee-deep in dead bodies and he’s complaining about being made to join them. He’s still as cowardly and pathetic as I remembered. I walk over and spit at him.
Nesbitt puts on a mock reasonable voice, saying, “Hold on, Nathan. He’s telling the truth, you know. That’s why he was hiding in the back. He doesn’t want any of this.”
I back off, trying to control myself, but then Gabriel comes over, asking what’s going on, and I tell him, “Oh, Gabriel. Let me introduce you to an old friend of mine. This piece of shit is Connor. Connor O’Brien. Annalise’s youngest brother. I used to be at school with him. He’s a Hunter, but don’t worry about him, Gabriel. He doesn’t want to be on
e. He doesn’t want to hurt anybody. At least not until they make him. And, when he does, he’s really, really sorry about it. So that’s all right.” I turn away from him to control myself but I can’t and I turn back and kick at Connor’s stomach, shouting, “Isn’t it, Connor?”
He doubles over and is on his knees with his face in the ground, groaning.
“Oh! I’m sorry, Connor, I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just part of my job. I don’t want to do it really.”
Gabriel stands between me and Connor, though he doesn’t need to. I don’t want to kick Connor again, even though I’m still mad. I say to Gabriel, “I’m OK. I just lost it for a second.” But I lean round to Connor and say, “Connor is the one that put the powder on that burned the cuts into my back. Not the B, just the W.”
“Then I’ll carve my name on his back,” Marcus says. He’s striding toward us now. He pulls Connor up by the hair, the Fairborn at his throat. Connor stares at me, his eyes wide.
“Or do I just cut his head off?” Marcus asks me. “Yes or no?”
“Connor!”
It’s Annalise. She’s at the head of a stream of people coming through the trees, running the last few steps closer. She shouts, “Let him go!” She picks up a Hunter gun that’s been dropped in the fight and points it at Marcus.
I step between them, holding my arms out. “Annalise. Put the gun down.”
“Keep away from me, Nathan. Tell Marcus to let Connor go.”
I’ve stopped. I’ve still got my arms out. I’m trying to keep my voice low and calm. “Annalise. We won’t hurt Connor. Please put the gun down. This isn’t helping. Put the gun down. Please.”
I can see she is shaking now but she says, “Not until you let my brother go.”
I turn to Marcus and say with as much authority as I can, “He’s a prisoner. We give him to Celia to deal with. She’ll want to question him. He’s her problem.”
I turn back to Annalise. “Please put the gun down.”
“Promise me,” she says. “Promise you won’t hurt him.”
“Yes. I promise. He’s a prisoner.”
She lowers the gun.
I turn back to my father and say, “We give him to Celia.”
Marcus says, “I’ll carve my name in his back when she’s finished with him.” But he lets go of Connor’s hair and Connor collapses forward.
And at that moment there’s a gunshot from my left and one of the foragers near me falls to the ground. There’s another shot, a scream, and another forager drops.
“Hunters! Hunters!” someone shouts, and the shout is taken up by others. Already the foragers are running away, back the way they came, but I see the black shapes of Hunters beyond them. That was the hissing noise. They were hidden in the trees all the time. Invisible. But now we can see them and we’re surrounded. The whole thing is a trap.
Gabriel shoots at the Hunters but more are appearing.
Greatorex shouts, “Everyone, get down! Stay low!” But we can hardly hear her for shouting and gunfire.
Annalise is still standing, protected by the tree to her right. I’m low. There are bullets hitting the ground near me. I shout, “Annalise, you have to get down.” She doesn’t hear or she isn’t listening, and she stays standing. I’m about to shout again when she raises her gun, and I turn, expecting to see a Hunter running to attack her. But it’s worse.
Connor is scrabbling over to the crate of guns. I shout at him, “No, Connor. No!” But it’s too late. Marcus is too angry. He grabs Connor by the hair and drags him round to face me and looks at me as he stabs Connor in the throat.
Annalise’s gun fires and fires again.
Marcus staggers.
The second bullet hits him a few centimeters above the first, both in his chest. Small red marks are spreading on his shirt and he drops to his knees. And I’m frozen in place, staring at him.
My father, shot.
I turn to Annalise, her gun still held straight, pointing at Marcus.
I step between them to protect him. I’m standing upright. She screams at me, “You promised! You promised!”
And there’s more shooting around us and Gabriel leaps on me and pulls me to the ground, lying on top of me to protect me. When I look up Annalise has gone.
Slowing Time
I scramble back to Marcus, keeping low to the ground. I have to pull him behind the crates. His wounds are bad but they’re not fatal. And this is Marcus: his healing powers are huge. He’ll be all right.
“You can keep yourself alive until we get back to Van,” I tell him.
Marcus coughs. “I’m not sure how you’re going to get me back there. Back anywhere.”
It’s true: most of the Alliance members have fled now but if some of them go back to the cut, and the Hunters find it, all will be lost. There are four or five bodies of rebels on the ground and I see a straggler fall in the distance. And it hits me that this has all been well planned. The Hunters will have watched to see where the cut is; our camp may already be in their hands.
Nesbitt crawls over to join us. He says, “Most of the Hunters have followed the foragers but we’re surrounded still.”
Gabriel helps Nesbitt drag some wooden crates over to form a makeshift barrier to one side of us. The cases of guns are by our feet. Gabriel goes through them and tries to fire them. None of them work. They’re all broken in some way.
We’re trapped.
Greatorex, Claudia, and Sameen are nearby, hunkered down behind some other cases. I can see Olivia’s body close to them. Everyone else has run.
Nesbitt offers his flask to Marcus. “It’s just water,” he says.
Marcus takes it but his hand is shaking.
“Any bright ideas, anyone?” asks Nesbitt.
Gabriel says, “We need to get away as soon as we can. I make out sixteen Hunters around us. But the others will be back.”
“There might be more,” I say. “I think these are the ones with Wallend’s tattoo. I think they can all go invisible.”
“Shit!” Nesbitt says.
“Yes,” Marcus agrees. “Shit!”
“Can you run, Marcus?” Gabriel asks.
“I don’t think—” Blood bubbles out of the corner of his mouth and he coughs. I can see he’s healing, and his healing is strong but it won’t last. “I don’t think I can even stand at the moment. These bullets are bastards, aren’t they?”
“Can we cut them out? Like you cut mine out?”
“One is in my lung; if you cut that out I’ll die anyway.”
There’s more shooting and I know Marcus certainly won’t be able to outrun Hunters. I look around. I’m not sure I can outrun them.
Nesbitt and Gabriel have crawled farther away and are shooting at a group of four Hunters who have crept up on us.
Marcus says, “I haven’t much strength but I think I can help you to get away. I can slow time enough. It probably won’t last more than a minute, maybe not even that. But it should allow you to get past the Hunters around us.”
“And what about you?”
“I stay here.”
I shake my head. “I’ll carry you. We’ll get you out.”
“No. That’s not what happens. I’ll be too slow. You have to get away.”
“No.”
“I can’t heal these wounds. I’m dying, Nathan. You have to fulfill the prophecy. You know that, don’t you? This is what I saw in the vision.”
I shake my head. “No. I can’t.”
“You can. The Fairborn will help you. It’ll want to cut me. Pull open my ribs. Eat my heart. Do it as a human. That is how it is in my vision. Take my Gifts. Take them all and use them.”
I have a feeling that everything in my life has led to this point but I don’t want any of it.
“It’s the only way, Nathan.”
“I
can’t do it.” But I can see Marcus is determined for himself and for me.
Gabriel crawls back to us and Marcus says to him, “I’m going to tell you the plan. I want you to make sure Nathan does it and escapes safely. I think I’m still strong enough to stop time for about thirty seconds, maybe a little more. It’ll be enough for you to run. Kill as many Hunters as you can in that time and meet up at the far side over there.” He nods in the direction away from the cut. “Nathan will stay with me. When he’s ready to go you must cover him. If there are any Hunters left alive draw them away from Nathan.”
I shake my head but Gabriel says, “Yes. I’ll make sure he’s safe. I’ll tell the others.” And he crawls off to where Greatorex and Nesbitt are.
Marcus reaches up and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Nathan, I’m glad I got to know you briefly. Maybe too little and too late. I wish it had been more.” His hand drops and he pulls the Fairborn out of his jacket. “I’m dying, Nathan. But I don’t want to die for nothing. I want you to have my Gifts.”
I shake my head. There’s no way I can kill him, never mind eat his heart.
“You’re strong. You can do it. Kill me and then kill Soul and the rest of them. Kill all of them.”
He pushes the Fairborn into my hand. “Will you do this for me, Nathan?”
I look into his eyes and see black triangles moving slowly, too slowly. I know there is nothing I can do to save him. I have to do as he asks.
I take the Fairborn out of its sheath, feel its desire, and tell my father, “I’ll kill them all.”
“Always remember that I wanted you to do this. I’m proud of you.” He coughs again. “Doing the spell is tiring. As soon as time speeds up again I will be weak, unable to heal any more. That is when you have to use the Fairborn.”