I walked as quickly as I could without looking like I was rushing. As I'd foreseen in the raven's vision, there were a number of Avalonian Guards there, but they were all clustered in one area. That seemed very odd: surely, if they were all going to guard the one area there was no point having so many there.
They were just standing around, chatting amongst themselves and occasionally scanning the square. They looked almost as if they were waiting for someone.
As I went to walk past they called me over.
'Affiliation?' asked the guard.
'Pagan,' I answered in what I hoped was as normal a voice as possible. I hoped they weren't going to search me. That would use up valuable time.
'Identification,' the guard said again.
I fumbled quickly in my bag and took out my identity card. The guard scanned it, frowning slightly, looking at the identification card and then at me.
'Hurry up!' I screamed inside my head. I was careful not to let my impatience show on my face. The gun at this guy's hip reminded me that he was not to be messed with. His face was like granite, and I think they purposely chose guards who were unable to smile. They took their jobs very seriously, and were able to dole out all kinds of punishments. I wondered idly whether it was the same in other countries.
'Where are you going?' he asked.
'The Morrigan Temple,' I answered. Well, it was close enough.
'What is your business there?' he asked.
'I'm the high priestess of my chapter,' I answered. I saw the mild curl of his lip in disgust, but it was a valid reason and under Avalonian law he had to let me through. It would be interfering with religious freedom to hold me back, and religious freedom was something that all Rationalists and Pagans took very seriously. At least in public.
He took out his notebook and copied my name down in the notebook. That was strange. They usually only took down your name if you'd committed a crime, so they could add your name to the database of infringements. 'Antisocial behaviour' worked on a points scale in Avalonia. Once you got a certain amount of points you were assigned community service, and enough points could get you jail time. The points you got were ostensibly decided on the basis of your crime, but the guards were also able to assign extra points arbitrarily. Sitting on a wall could get you two points. Asking why you couldn't sit there could get you another two.
I had three points for drinking in a public area a couple of years back. Other than that I flew below the radar. While I was in no danger of getting punished anytime soon, I still didn't want extra points added to my record.
'Did I do something wrong?' I asked.
The guard looked up at me with a grim expression. 'You tell me.'
Well that told me nothing. I took back my ID and walked on. When I got to the temple I saw Fern sitting on the steps outside, painting her nails. It was her watch. Her face showed confusion as she saw me approach. She knew I had an exam this morning. I didn't have time to get into it right now, so I just raised my head and waved.
'Be careful not to spill any on the steps,' I called, as if nail polish on the Temple steps was my biggest concern right now. I walked across the square, my nerves beginning to get to me. If I'd misinterpreted the dream, then I was in real trouble.
I ran over and into the reception area. A bored looking woman glanced over at me and returned to the enormous stack of paper she was holding. I groaned internally. This building was full of paper. Fire would spread here quickly.
I walked over to the counter. 'Look, you need to - '
'I'm sorry,' she interrupted me. 'But the reading rooms aren't open to the public until 10 am. You're going to have to come back later.'
'I know all that, but I'm not here to -'
'I'm sorry,' the woman said. 'But we're not open. I'm going to have to ask you to leave.'
'I don't want to look at the reading rooms!' I shouted at her. The security man started to take large strides towards me. 'There's a bomb in Fenly Street.'
'What?' asked the woman. I had her attention now.
'I had a premonition,' I said now. Pagans would give me far more credence than the guard would. 'I'm a priestess over at the Temple of Morrigan. A bomb will go off today in Fenly, and your building will catch fire. You need to get out.'
The woman froze. She had no idea what to do.
'You need to tell the archive staff!' I told her.
She nodded and went off to do exactly that.
I turned around to the security guy.
'Is there anyone around Fenly that could get hurt?' I asked him.
'No,' he said. 'I mean, there's a few secret societies and all that, but they're nocturnal. They wouldn't be there now. Have you told the Guards?'
I shook my head. ‘No, but I should.’
'No, you're right,' he said kindly. 'You can’t admit that you know anything about this: they don’t believe in portents. The only thing they’ll conclude if you tell them this is that you had to know something about it.'
'But if someone gets killed...' I began. I couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like to have that on my conscience. It didn't bear thinking about.
'They won't,' said the security guy. 'They cleared that area a few weeks ago. The area is being fumigated or something, there's nobody there.'
That was strange. Whoever had set the bomb obviously hadn't done their research. But all the better.
A group of the centre's staff came down the stairs. They all looked fairly panicked, which was understandable, but Morgan looked pale and worried. Almost as if he'd seen a ghost.
'Kara, what are you doing here,' he asked as he walked towards me. 'Don't you have an exam today?'
'I do,' I said. 'But I saw a portent and I finally deciphered it when I was doing my exam. I just had to leave and get down here.'
'You shouldn't have,' he said, holding the top of my arm, his voice full of urgency. 'Listen to me, Kara, you need to go back.'
'You can't go back into an exam once you've left,' I said in . 'And is that really the most important thing right now? There may be a bomb just a few streets away, and you're worried about my chemistry test?'
He gave me an unreadable expression, as if he was trying to weigh something up in his head. 'Kara, you need to leave.'
'Of course I do, we all need to leave,' I said. 'I mean, we should be shielded from most of the blast here, but the building might catch fire. '
'No,' he said leaning close. I could feel his breath against my ear. It was the closest we'd ever been, and despite the danger there was some part of me that felt an illicit thrill at the contact. 'You need to get out of here. Leave the building and keep running until you get out of the city limits.'
'What?' I asked.
'They'll pin it on you,' he said. 'They're going to try to pin this on you. We're going to try to rescue as many documents as possible before the blast goes off. You haven't got that long Kara, run.'
My mind was reeling. I stepped away from him as I tried to make sense of what he'd just said. The words were crazy, but the urgency in his tone wasn't. Could I trust him? That was the million dollar question.
'Go.'
I needed no further bidding. I left the building and ran across the square. The explosion when it came was a shock, even though I'd been expecting it. Car alarms started shrieking, glass was breaking, and the few people still in the area started to run. I was tempted to look back, but I knew I didn't have time. I saw Fern running ahead of me, so at least I didn't have to worry about her.
I was almost out of Darkfield when I remembered the Temple. The guards were going to be all over the area like a rash, and gods knew what they'd confiscate from the temple if they got inside. Fern had run immediately, as was normal, so she wouldn’t have locked down the building.
What to do? Morgan wouldn't have told me to run if I wasn't in danger. But I had a duty to the Temple. I couldn't let their secrets be discovered.
'Would they really try to pin this on me?' I wondered. Surely not. Tr
ue I knew that the Guards could be ruthless, but they didn’t fabricate evidence.
Plus, Morgan might have motives of his own. Let’s face it: despite claiming that he did it for my own good he had ignored me in university. Whereas my duty to the Daughters went back to…well, forever.
I hesitated. How had I got myself involved in this craziness? I turned and ran back to the temple.
It was cold in the morning night. The morning sunshine shone lightly through the stained glass window, sending a kaleidoscope of colours across the stone floor. I gathered the large book from where it stood on the lectern and stowed it in the cupboard at the back of the hall. I also gathered up pamphlets, books and projects that we’d been working on and hid them away.
While I was in the storage cupboard, I paused. Daughter numbers were dwindling. If Morgan was right – and admittedly that was a very big if – then there would be nobody to carry on the work of informing people about the Reckoning if I got locked up.
There was a protection pendant that I had infused a few weeks ago. I’d charmed it for a novice who’d backed out, and I had a basic spell book that we used in the temple. Almost like the hymn books you’d see in Christian churches. I placed the items in a small woven bag and closed the door behind me. I placed a hand on the door and muttered a few words under my breath. There. The door was sealed.
I ran outside and closed the door over. Sure that wasn’t much protection against the Guards, they could open the door easily enough. But the area would probably go into lock down for a few days around the bombing: the wind and wildlife could do a large amount of damage if left unchecked.
The ravens were getting restless, squalling and freewheeling above my head. Their cries sounded stark against the multi-faceted noise of the sirens, the smoke billowing out from the records building. The staff were throwing sheaves of document out the window, like the papers were more important than actual lives. Maybe to them they were.
I held onto the cord of the drawstring bag and threw it upwards into the flock of cawing ravens. If I was caught they'd make sure that the proper person got it. If I wasn't, Quince would return it to me.
The square was filling with more vehicles than had passed through in the past six months. I hoped to got lost in the clamour and confusion, just on the off chance that Morgan was right, so I chose a tiny side street to make my escape down.
I made the wrong chioce.
CHAPTER FOUR
The lane held a cluster of guards who, alerted by my frantic running, asked me to stop.
'Where are you going, girl?' spat one of the guards.
'Just away from here,' I said trying to sound as normal as possible. My voice wasn't quite level, but a bomb had just gone off metres away. I was hardly expected to be the epitome of calm and reasonable, was I?
Except apparently I was.
'You came in this morning,' said one of the guards. I groaned inwardly. 'You arrived twenty minutes before the bomb went off, and now you're leaving in a hell of a hurry. Something just doesn't add up, does it?
'I came to check on my temple,' I said quickly. 'Like I told you.' It was a lie, but I couldn't tell the truth. If I knew about it before hand it would only tie me closer to the crime.
'To check on it?' asked a female guard. Her eyes were dark as flint, and I recognised a glint of steel on her wrist. Pagan protection bracelets. I almost rolled my eyes, except I knew it wouldn't help me. Pagan Guards were the worst. When dealing with fellow Pagans they always seemed to think that they needed to go out of their way to prove they were unbiased, and often ended up being more heavy handed than their Rationalist counterparts. The goddess Fortuna was not on my side today.
'Look, I needed someone to cover for me at the Temple today, I was just checking in on her to see that everything was ok before heading over to the university,' I made my voice sound as reasonable as I could.
The girl gave me a hard appraising look. 'And while you were there did you go anywhere else?'
I paused. There was no use lying, they'd pick it up on the CCTV anyway. 'I also checked in at the Centre for Pagan records.'
The centre was on the side of the square where the bomb had gone off, and that fact had galvanised the guards. Within seconds they had whipped out the handcuffs and twisted my hands behind my back. Iron bracelets were meant to be protective, but these were anything but. They read me my rights and slammed me in the back of the car.
I was scared in the back of the car, but after so many run ins with the law in my time I was determined not to cry.
The city scrolled by, and I was amazed to see that news crews had already arrived and were doing live broadcasts.
The guard in the front radioed out a message. 'We have a suspected perp in the Darkfield bombing, arrange a cell, interview room and a Pagan associate. Over.'
'Right away. Over.'
I think it was the fact that they called me a perp that brought home just how serious a situation I was in. I was being accused of a terrorist attack, a bombing. True, there was no evidence linking me to the bomb. All they had was the fact that I was in the area around the same time as a bomb went off. Even if they talked to the centre staff and they told them about my premonition, that wouldn't hold up. They couldn't make a case based on that. Juries in Avalonia had to be divided evenly between Pagans and Rationalists. And the Pagan part of the jury could conceivably believe me.
But there was a chance, there was always a chance. Pagan fundamentalists were always harping on about how corrupt the Rationalist Guards were, how they'd trump up any charge to get a conviction. I didn't want to prove them right.
It turns out failing chemistry may be the only thing I had going in my favour.
When I reached the station I was strip searched, finger printed, and every piece of information they could ask was taken from me. They took urine and blood samples to test for illegal substances. My clothes were taken from me and I was given a dark red jumpsuit. Rationalist prisoners were given blue, so they could distinguish between the two factions in prison.
The only good thing about being categorised as an A level suspect was that I was viewed as being too dangerous to share a cell. My cell was sparse and utilitarian, with a basin and stainless steel toilet on one side of the room. On the other side there was a bunk. I'd only be there until they sorted this mess out, but still, it was humiliating.
I lay back on the bunk and tried to get my thoughts in order. How had all this happened so fast? It was unreal.
I was impatient. Once they got me in an interview room everything would be fine. I just had to wait for my Pagan associate to arrive. Their job was to be my legal advocate and ensure that I wasn't discriminated against by the Guards. It was standard procedure as far as I knew. Lots of people in Vyrion complex had been appointed Pagan associates, it wasn't exactly a place renowned for its adherence to the law.
But as the hours ticked on, I began to get nervous. Surely it shouldn't take this long to get an associate? We were in one of the biggest police stations in the cities, they usually had a few on standby. Still, maybe they were busy.
A plastic tray arrived at lunch with a snack pack of orange juice, limp chicken and pasta salad and a bread roll. Most people might turn their noses up at prison fare, but it was the largest meal I'd seen in days. Unfortunately, my stomach was churning through nervousness and I couldn't eat. What a waste.
I could see a clock over on the wall behind the guard station, and the hands had climbed around until half five by the time they called me in for investigation.
I briefly met my Pagan associate, a man in his early forties by the name of Bran. He seemed nice enough, if a little serious. He talked me through my story, and I told him the truth.
'So what do you think?' I asked after I'd finished recounting my tale.
'Hmmmm,' he said. Great. That was reassuring.
'I've told you the truth,' I said. 'I know how these things work.' I didn't mention that my opinions on the justice system were gleaned from co
nversations on the Vyrion 1 tower landings and bits and pieces cribbed from CSI Miami. I didn't think that would be helpful at this point. Or, indeed, at any point.
'I know you have,' said Bran. 'I believe that you didn't have anything to do with that bomb. But we have to see it from the Guards point of you. You left a very important exam because of a belief in something they don't think exists. They can go down the religious tolerance line all they want, but one fact remains. They don't believe in portents, foreshadowing, or symbols. And it's not just you. If a Catholic came in to an Avalonian court and said they had prior knowledge of a crime because a saint told them this, it would be disregarded by the investigators too. Legal matters can only rely on things that can be proven or unproven on a solid scientific base. That's how it works, Kara.'
'But it's stupid,' I argued, aware that I sounded like a petulant child. 'It means they're making a judgement without all the facts.'
'Yes, but the point is that they don't consider them to be facts. They're trying to be as fair as possible.'
I tipped my head back in exasperation and stared at the strip lighting above. There was so much artificial light in this place that it was impossible to tell what time of day it was.
I needed to get out of here.
Bran was a professional. He instantly saw the frustration on my face and moved to reassure me. 'The evidence that they have is all circumstantial. It might take a bit of time, but we'll get there.'
I sighed. 'The worst thing is that I feel like I'm being punished for doing the right thing. If I'd just stayed where I was and not warn anyone, I'd be fine.'
He gave me a sad smile along with a paternal tap on the back. 'You're not the first client I’ve I have had in this position.
‘Oh?’ I asked. ‘And how many of those are walking free today?’
His face told me all I needed to know. He placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
Portent, A Ravensborough Novella (The Ravensborough Saga) Page 3