by Helen Brain
The room is getting hotter and hotter. The drums won’t stop thudding – they sound like they’re right inside my head. I’ve got to get away. Should I run? But Micah and Jasmine – I can’t endanger them …
I know my mind will be clearer when I’m away from the incense and drums, so I let Evelyn take my arm and lead me through the interleading door into the sanctuary, where the worship leaders get dressed.
Pietro is waiting with his scissors and make-up bag at hand. “Congratulations,” he beams. “What a beautiful couple you’re going to make. Hal tells me you’re the love of his life, Ebba. I’m so happy for you, so happy.”
He pushes me into a chair and flicks the cape around my shoulders. “So, let’s see what this turban is hiding,” he says. “Have you been moisturising your hair like I told you to?” He starts to unwrap it.
“Leave my hair,” I snap. “I’m wearing the turban.”
“Don’t be silly,” he says, smacking my shoulder. “You have to look wonderful for your new husband. Stop making a fuss. There isn’t time.”
“Calm down, dear,” Hal’s mother says. “Just do everything we say and it will all be perfect.”
Yes, do everything you say – for now and for evermore, I think. I’ll never be my own person, ever again. I look for an exit – maybe I can run for it, reach the buggy and tell Leonid to drive like the wind … but General de Groot will send his soldiers after me. I don’t stand a chance.
Pietro pulls off my turban. “Dear, dear,” he says. “Just look at your hair. You haven’t been using the olive oil conditioner, have you? Let’s take down this ugly bun …” He takes out the first pin and Hal’s mother reaches over and undoes the clasp of my eagle necklace.
“I’ve brought you some of my own jewels,” she says. “My gift to you, on your wedding day. First, let me take away this old necklace. It’s very girly, but you’re nearly a woman now, a married woman,” and she beams at me.
She thinks I can’t see her, but she’s reflected in the mirror. I watch her cross the room, open the door and pass the necklace to one of the soldiers in the shrine. Any moment now the High Priest will come through and demand the real amulet.
Pietro pulls out the second hairpin. I’ve got to act now.
I leap out of the chair and tear off the plastic cape. “I’m not marrying Hal. I’m not getting married!” I shout. “I’m too young.”
Pietro shoves me roughly back into the chair. “Shut up,” he hisses. “You’ll do what I say. High Priest’s orders.”
Evelyn’s face changes. “You’re just a stupid little girl,” she says, slapping the side of my head. “Do as you’re told.”
That does it. I grab the scissors from the table and jump up facing them. “I’m not getting married!” I scream. “You can’t make me!” I hold the scissors up like a weapon.
“Sit down,” Evelyn snarls. “You ugly brat.”
Pietro grabs me by the shoulders and tries to shove me back in the chair. I’m pushing him away when Evelyn tries to pull my hair. I lash out, she moves forward without warning, and the scissors slash her arm. I drop them, horrified. “I’m sorry,” I gasp. “I didn’t mean to stab you.”
Evelyn is screeching as blood runs down her arm. Pietro takes one look at the blood and passes out. I’m wondering if I can make a dash for it, but the door opens and three soldiers rush in, followed by the High Priest, the general and the worship leaders. Everyone is shouting and pushing except the High Priest. He stares at me with hatred, through half-closed eyes.
“Silence!” he yells. “Get her out of here.”
They drag me out of the sanctuary, and down a flight of stairs. I look back. Hal is watching. He looks heartbroken.
CHAPTER 12
They take me down endless twisting passages and throw me into a cell. It’s carved out of the same grey rock as the colony, with thick metal bars across the front. The door clangs shut and I’m alone. There’s a sleeping platform, a bucket toilet, and nothing else. Just hard rock.
I huddle on the platform and pull my legs up to my chest. I stabbed the High Priest’s third wife. I shamed his son in front of everyone. I thwarted his wishes. I promised to be a good girl and I failed.
I feel like a snail, waiting to be crushed under the High Priest’s shoes. I wonder how long it will be until the execution. Will they give me a trial first? Or will he send Major Zungu to shoot me? Or perhaps it will be a public execution, with all the citizens watching and cheering. Maybe they’ll burn me at the stake, like a witch.
IT MUST BE late afternoon when a soldier brings me a meal. “Eat,” he says brusquely.
I get up in a hurry. “What’s going to happen to me?”
The soldier pushes his face close to mine and I flinch from his garlic breath. “I hope you’re going to be executed, you filthy scum. They should never have let you out of the colony. You’re like cockroaches, the lot of you. You should hear the language from that other lot. That little boy’s got a mouth on him – wouldn’t believe the filth coming out of it.”
“What little boy?”
“The one who thought he could just walk in here and let the cockroaches out. They caught them in the storage chamber, hiding in sacks, trying to escape on the wagon. They’re being executed tomorrow morning. The world doesn’t need ungrateful little shits like you lot.”
I spit in his face.
He slaps me. “Good riddance,” he mutters. The cell door clangs, and he’s gone.
I SEARCH THE cell for a way out, anything, but there’s nothing. The gate is triple-locked. The bars are so thick there’s no way I can bend them.
I give up. I sit on the sleeping platform and think about dying. Will it hurt? Where will I go when I’m dead? Will I be united with my mother at last, and all my ancestors? Will I meet the Goddess?
At last I fall asleep, curled on the rock platform. When I wake up, my body is stiff and sore. The soldier is snoring in his chair at the end of the corridor. I have never felt so alone. So desperate.
“Where are you, Clementine?” I whisper. “Why are you so far away?” I take the amulet out of my hair and rub it between my fingers. “Help me, I beg you.”
Nothing.
Then I hear distant footsteps. The soldier wakes with a snort. I hear his key turning in the lock and the central door to the corridor clangs open.
“Good evening, Righteous,” he says. “This one is a right little bitch. Pardon my language.”
It must be the High Priest. What does he want with me? I imagine a torture chamber, and him enjoying watching me suffer.
“Please, Goddess,” I breathe. “Be with me now.” I pull my knees up tighter and hug them. “Don’t let him hurt me. Make it quick.”
But it’s Righteous Lucas talking. “How are you, Stan?” he says in his deep, musical voice. “I’ve brought you a bottle of something to warm you up. I know what a depressing job it can be, keeping guard over traitors like this.”
Go to hell, I think. Who does he think he is?
“Thank you, Righteous,” Stan says. “Will you have one with me?” I hear liquid pouring in a cup.
“Not for me, thanks,” Lucas says. “I’m here on official business.”
“Ah,” Stan says. “Final prayers and such.”
“Exactly. You enjoy it. You’ve earned it. Share it with your friends – who’s on duty tonight? Is it Kobus?”
“That’s right, Righteous. Kobus and Jabu. Jabu’s looking after the other four. Kobus has gone to relieve him – needs a bathroom break. He’ll be back soon.”
Their footsteps approach. Stan unlocks the cell door. “Get up,” he snarls. “The Righteous is here to hear your confession.”
I’ve got nothing to lose anymore. No need to be nice. I stay where I am and sneer at Lucas. “Here to gloat, are you? I’ll tell you straight, you smug, self-righteous shitbag, I’d rather die than marry anyone in your family.”
The guard slaps my head. “Watch what you say.”
Lucas holds up h
is hand. “That will do, Stan. I’ll take it from here.” Then he puts down his lamp on the platform next to me.
“Right, right,” Stan says, backing out. He triple-locks the cell door. “Call me when you’re ready to leave, Righteous.”
He goes back to the desk, and I’m alone with Lucas.
“So, what do you want?” I ask, glaring at him.
He shrugs. “Nothing.”
“Well, get out then.”
“I thought I’d just sit with you for a while.”
I point to the floor. “Fine. Sit then, if that’s what you want.”
He sits down, jackknifing his long legs under him. He puts his hands in his lap and sits. He just sits. He doesn’t say anything. I watch him for a bit. This must be a trick. His serenity is strange. What is he up to?
But then his stillness begins to fill the room, and I feel myself quietening down inside. I lean back against the wall and let my thoughts wander. I wonder how the four of them are bearing up. I can imagine Jasmine is enraged, storming around the cell, cursing and banging on the bars. Fez is probably trying to work out an escape plan. Letti’s probably trying to make sure everyone is as comfortable as possible. And Micah. Is he thinking of me? Is he dreaming of what might have been, in an ideal world? Where we could live together on Greenhaven, and run the farm and have happy children, and enough friends to fill the long table on festive occasions?
Aunty Figgy must be worried sick. The farm will be sold when I’m dead. Or the High Priest will take it over. I wish I’d made a will, leaving it all to Aunty Figgy and Leonid. It’s too late now, and anyway they’re not citizens. They’re not allowed to own land on the island. I just hope they’re allowed to stay on and look after Isi. I can’t bear for her to suffer.
I wish I’d had more time in this beautiful world. I wish I’d explored every inch of the forest, stayed long enough to see the arum lilies bloom by the river, climbed more trees, learnt to swim in the pond. Made love to Micah. Felt our bodies mould into one.
As I think of him, I’m rubbing the amulet on the back of my left hand. It runs across my birthmark.
A shadow falls across the floor. It’s Clementine, standing inside the cell, by the door. She’s holding a lamp. Her little boy goes over to Lucas.
“Hello, little fella,” Lucas says.
I blink. Did Lucas just talk to the little boy? But nobody can see him except me.
The child climbs into his lap and curls up. He falls asleep. Lucas sits for a while, quietly looking at the little boy. Then he catches my eye and smiles.
“I’ll be going now,” he says. “You’ve got company.”
Clementine picks up her child and Lucas stretches his long legs. I’m expecting him to call the soldier, but he takes a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door. Then he’s gone, down the passage, and I hear him unlock the second door. The soldier, I can hear, is snoring. Lucas has left the lamp behind, and the cell door open. But what use is that? I’ll never find my way out of the maze of tunnels they’ve dug into the mountain.
Clementine sighs and sits next to me on the platform. Her little boy is asleep, breathing with his mouth open. His red curls are tousled. She slowly uncurls his chubby fingers and pulls a piece of paper out of his hand. It’s a map.
Lucas has drawn me a map.
I smile at Clementine as she points to the lamp, her finger on her lips. I pick up the lamp and follow her through the unlocked gate and down the passage, trying to move as silently as she does. The guards are indeed asleep, one with his head hanging on his chest, Stan slumped over the table. Lucas must have drugged the wine – the bottle in front of them is empty.
Lucas.
I’d never have imagined he’d help me escape. What if it’s a trap? Is he setting me up? I dither there for a few moments, wondering if I’m being really stupid. The gate is so close, I can reach out and touch it. It’s not too late to go back to the cell. Clementine is getting agitated. She’s pointing at the keys on the table, just centimetres from Stan’s head. The little boy is fast asleep, his thumb in his mouth. He sat on Lucas’ knee – he trusts him. I decide to take a chance. But can I get the keys without waking the guard? Millimetre by millimetre I stretch my hand out and pick them up, trying not to let them clink together. Stan stirs and I freeze, covering the lamp.
“What’s ’at?” he mutters. “Wha’s going on?” Then his shoulders drop and he begins to snore again. My heart is thudding as I try the second gate. It’s unlocked and I slip through. I have to find the right key to lock it behind me. They all look the same, but Clementine taps one. I put it in the lock and it turns. I’ve locked the soldiers inside. No one will find them until the next shift begins, hopefully hours from now. I tiptoe down the passage, stopping at every turn to check the map. Am I in the right place? I could get lost down here among the twisted passages that all look the same.
Then just as I’m beginning to think I’ve gone hopelessly wrong, I hear Fez cough. I creep along the wall and peep around the corner. There they are about ten metres away– Micah, Jasmine, Fez and Letti, locked in a cell. The soldier’s desk is right in front of it, and he’s wide awake, playing with a pack of cards. If I stand in the shadows, I can watch them without being seen.
I reverse back up the passage and study the map. There’s an exit route marked – if I go back a few metres and take the right-hand path at the fork, I’ll eventually reach a door that seems to lead straight into the yard at the back of the shrine offices. I’ve just got to work out a way to get them out from right under the soldier’s nose. Next to me Clementine waits patiently, the little boy fast asleep on her shoulder.
“I wonder what Ebba’s doing tonight,” Letti’s voice echoes down the passage.
“I bet she’s trying to rescue us,” Fez says. He sounds tired, and he coughs again.
“She doesn’t care about us,” Jasmine says. “I told you. She’s one of them now.”
“I wish we’d got out,” Letti says wistfully. “I wanted to see the world above just once before I die. We didn’t even make it to the wagons.”
“I wanted to see the sea,” Fez says with a sigh.
“Ebba’s house is by the sea,” Jasmine tells them. “There’s a huge wall, but just on the other side is the ocean. You can hear it at night. You should see her house. It’s enormous. She’s stinking rich.”
Micah is still not saying anything. I peep around the corner. He’s lying on the sleeping platform, staring at the ceiling. I wonder what he’s thinking. Why isn’t he defending me?
Here I am, trying to rescue them, and they’re badmouthing me? I could just sneak back down the passage, out of the door and leave them locked up. I could hike to the harbour. I could get a boat ride across the sound and make a new life in Silvermine Island.
“You won’t believe what Ebba did,” Jasmine says. “She could have got all three of us elevated but –”
Micah interrupts her. “Ebba is one of the bravest people I know,” he says. “So shut up and give her a break, Jasmine.”
“It’s not her fault she inherited a fortune,” Letti says. “And I bet she’s trying to rescue us right this minute.”
The heavily muscled soldier gets up and begins to pace the corridor, lumbering to the end of the passage and back again. To and fro, to and fro. I try to measure how long he takes with each lap. Not enough time to dart in behind him and let them out. And if he gets me he could break my neck just by twisting it.
I’m stuck. There’s nothing I can do. They’re so close, but I can’t get to them.
I wait till the soldier is walking away from me and step into the passage. I wave, and Fez sees me.
“Ebba!” he exclaims. “What …”
I put my finger over my lips and dart back around the corner. The guard’s footsteps are getting louder. He’s coming my way – he must be almost at the desk. He keeps walking, nearer and nearer. His footsteps clang on the floor. Should I run for it? It’s too late. I turn out the lamp and press myself
against the wall.
Then the child wakes up, rubbing his eyes. Clementine puts him on the floor. He runs off down the passage towards the guard’s table. As he passes it, he puts his hand up and sweeps the cards onto the floor.
“Damned wind,” the soldier grumbles. He bends down to pick them up. They’re blowing down the passage and he lumbers after them.
Clementine nods to me. I sprint down the passage and toss the keys through the bars. Fez catches them before they clatter to the floor.
I run back to the desk and grab the soldier’s chair. I’m back behind the corner by the time he gets the pack of cards together. He can’t believe his eyes when he sees his chair gone. “Kobus,” he grumbles, “don’t play silly buggers. Bring it back.”
He shuffles down the passage towards me, cursing. I hear him getting closer and closer. As he reaches the corner I stretch to my full height and bring the chair down hard on his head. He yells and as he lifts his head again I smash the back of the chair into his nose. Blood streams down his face. He grabs the chair and hurls it at me. I duck out of the way. As I bend to pick it up, he seizes me around the neck with his arm. I’m gasping for breath, kicking, trying to hit him where it hurts the most … He’s squeezing tighter. My eyes are bulging and black spots shoot across them. “Kobus!” he yells. “Come quickly!”
Just as I’m about to pass out he releases me and I fold double, coughing my lungs out. Jasmine is suddenly on his back, gouging his eyes. Micah punches him under the chin so his jaws crack and he collapses, unconscious.
“Help me,” Micah whispers, grabbing the soldier’s ankles. We drag him into the cell and lock him inside.
“This will be useful,” Fez whispers, grabbing the pistol from his belt.
“Should we shoot him?” Jasmine whispers.
“Too noisy,” Micah hisses. “It’ll alert the others.”
I’m checking the route on Lucas’s map. “This way. Bring the keys.”