“But Doctor Abigail and the others –”
“They’re on their own. You need to take care of yourself.”
Alice’s face crumpled. “I’m fine.”
Sorrel felt heart-sorry for the girl. She had thought Alice soft and silly, but to make such a journey by herself showed real grit.
“Alice, if I can get Eli, then I’ll gladly come with you – we all will. But I can’t leave without him. You do understand?”
Alice nodded. She looked around at the people streaming back from the trench. “Prisoners, all of them?”
“Only if they want to leave Dinawl. I guess that if they want to stay, then they’re free.”
It was a relief to see everyone back at the room. Sorrel had been fearful that Niven would separate them, but with the city being so full, perhaps he had nowhere else to put them. Whatever the reason, keeping them together wouldn’t be for their own comfort.
Each worker on the trench had been given a chitty for a meal from the mass kitchen that had been set up in the city. They didn’t know if Willow was still spying on them, but to be safe, talk in the room was kept to the most basic of exchanges. It was only when they were eating their meal in the vast, noisy kitchen that they could finally talk freely to each other.
They’d been served a puddle of stew with boiled cabbage and dumplings on the side. The stew consisted of a thin gravy with a few chunks of carrot and a piece of grey meat. She thought about asking if anyone knew what kind of meat it was, but decided she was better off not knowing. At the least, it was warm, and the dumplings, though hard work on the jaw, were filling. She chewed through a mouthful before telling Einstein and David about Alice.
“Mara, still spreading her poison,” David said. “She wasn’t like that in Amat.”
“She didn’t get the chance,” Sorrel said.
“Do you want to help Alice?” Einstein asked. “Or perhaps exact your revenge on Mara?”
“Would that be so bad of me? Not that it matters – I can’t do anything until we get Eli back. We don’t even know where he is.”
Kala spoke up. “I heard talk today about a place – a kindergarten – where they look after small children.”
“Where is it?” Sorrel asked.
Kala shook her head. “I don’t know – the words were not meant for my ears – but I’ll try to find out more tomorrow.”
“We need to find Eli and get out of here before the army arrives,” Sorrel said. She looked at David. “I don’t know how I’m going to get through another day at the trench – everything hurts. I’m so tired and I miss Eli.”
She looked along the table at Brig. He was listening, his face stony. Olaf was by his side, Ivan across from him, all three looking as miserable as mud after a day in the trench.
“I miss poor Tailwagger as well,” Sorrel said. “I hope Willow is looking after her.”
She looked at the piece of grey meat on her plate and had a horrible thought. Now she had to ask.
“What is this?”
“It’s rat,” David said.
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve eaten enough of them. The Three Rats do a better job of cooking them, but it’s rat all the same. Why – what did you think it was?”
“I don’t know.”
Einstein leaned into her. “Do not worry, a dog has novelty value and is too rare a beast for the pot.”
Sorrel nodded but left the meat untouched on her plate. She offered it to David. He shook his head.
“You should eat it,” David said. “You need to fill your belly. Think about our log cabin. That will get you through.”
“Get through,” Lizbit repeated, her eyes as dark as the trench at sundown.
“Tomorrow, we’ll find out where this kindergarten is, and then we’ll get Eli,” David said.
Sorrel was pretty sure they wouldn’t be able to skip right into the place, pick up Eli and skip back out, but she nodded all the same. At least they had a plan of sorts and that meant they had a shred of hope.
“Log cabin. Log cabin.”
“What did you say?” David asked.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to say it out loud.”
“We’ll get there, just you wait and see.”
They were walking by the jail, on their way back to the room in the palace. The others had gone on ahead, to give the two of them a few moments of privacy. Not that they were alone. The streets were busy with workers going to and from the mass kitchen, but now that the distraction was over, the carnival atmosphere had gone with it. Conversations were hushed, and no-one was singing tonight.
“I hate Niven,” Sorrel said.
“Me too – wait, did you hear that?”
“What?”
“Listen.” David stopped and cocked his head. “There, again.”
Sorrel was about to shake her head when she heard a gruff whisper.
“Over here.”
It seemed to come from the jail wall.
“It must be coming from there.” David pointed at a grill set in the base of the wall.
“You keep watch,” Sorrel said, “I’ll take a look.”
She crouched down in the shadows by the grill. “Hello?”
Two sets of fingers appeared. They wrapped themselves around the bars, there was a grunt of effort and then a gaunt, bearded face appeared in the narrow slot.
Sorrel gasped.
“Sorrel – it’s me, Slade.”
Sorrel peered closer.
“Watch yourself,” David said.
“Slade?”
Between the beard and his weight loss, she scarcely recognised him, and only now because he’d identified himself.
“I saw you yesterday and hoped you’d pass by again.” His voice was strained. “I’ve been watching.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine but I can’t hold on for long.”
“They say you blew up the mine.”
“What say you?”
“I don’t believe it. You were there with us. You could have died along with us.”
“Hold on.” He dropped out of view and reappeared a moment later.
“Listen,” he said, “Don’t trust Juno.”
“I don’t, but it’s funny hearing it from you when you’ve spent your life protecting her.”
“It’s what I was trained to do. But times have changed. You know of this Great Trench?”
Sorrel held out her blistered hands. “I’ve been working on it. How do you know about it?”
“Voices carry from the street. And I hear the guards talk. They take pride in it.”
“Everyone in Dinawl does.”
Slade dropped from view again. Sorrel heard him thud to the floor. She pressed her face up against the grill.
“Slade, are you alright?”
“I can’t hold on anymore. They want me weak. They don’t give me much to eat. Can you hear me okay?”
“I can hear you.”
“The Great Trench – it’s not what they say it is. It’s not for defence. It’s a mass grave, for the citizens of Dinawl. You’re digging your own grave.”
14.
All Our Tomorrows
Back in the room, Sorrel whispered the information from Slade to the others. They huddled together, talking in low voices for fear of being overheard.
“If what he says is true,” Einstein murmured, “then Niven has completely betrayed his people.”
“We have to tell them.”
“They will not believe you,” Einstein replied. “They have put their faith in Niven. He feeds them and has given them pride and purpose. They will not want to believe you and may instead turn on you – on all of us.”
“They’ll have you arrested if you try,” Brig muttered, “and then you’ll be no use to anyone – Eli least of all.”
Sorrel recognised the truth in Brig’s words, but the horror of the enormous grave weighed heavily on her. There must be something they could do, though what that might be, she did not know.
&nbs
p; Though she was beyond tired, sleep did not come easily to Sorrel that night. She finally succumbed in the small hours, only to be woken before daybreak by the clanging of bells.
Bell-ringers strode through the streets of Dinawl, and up and down the palace halls, rousing the citizens for the day ahead, but instead of calling them to the South Gate for allocation of work at the Great Trench and elsewhere in the city, they were told to assemble at the jail yard gates.
“This must be to do with Slade,” Sorrel said to David.
Great tides of people swept through the streets of Dinawl and formed a crush of bodies outside the jail. Sorrel and David held onto each other’s arms, trying to stay close, but they were pulled apart in the jostling throng. Sorrel was pushed one way, David another. She tried to work her way back to him, but the press of bodies was too great. She felt the familiar heat of rising panic as she struggled to draw breath.
She pushed her elbows out, creating a tiny breathing space in the mob, but she had no control over her direction and could do nothing but go with the flow of the crowd. She managed to maintain eye contact with David until a sudden surge swept them in different directions and she lost sight of him.
Thinking she’d work her way out to the edge of the gathering, Sorrel tried to stand on her tiptoes to scan for the shortest route, but almost lost her balance. If she fell, she’d be trampled. She had to stay upright, but the intensity of so many bodies crushed together was overwhelming.
She grimaced at the stale, unwashed smell arising from the flaky scalp of the man in front of her, and again at the rotten breath of the woman beside her. She was aware of their clothes rubbing against hers, and could feel the jab of elbows and the prod of knees as weights were shifted and balance sought, but there was no escape.
She felt closed in, like a trapped animal, and all the while, the old panic fluttered within her. She just had to hang on until they opened the gates into the jail yard.
A ripple of excitement ran through the crowd. Speculation swooped and swirled in the air.
They’re opening it now.
This is it.
Wonder what Niven’s got up his sleeves this time?
After the distraction, it could be anything.
Sorrel braced herself for the surge forward, but the main gates remained closed and two small side doors opened instead. The crush increased as people crammed forward.
Sorrel was carried along by the tide of people teeming towards the doors. She had as little control over her direction as when she’d been in the river. The current she was in carried her to the door on the left. A formation of bailiffs controlled the flow so that people could not gush through but were admitted in a steady stream.
Once she was through the door, the relief at being released from the crush of the crowd was so great that Sorrel had to fight the urge to break into a run across the jail yard, but the compulsion fell away as soon as she saw what had been built there. She stopped to stare, but was quickly prodded on by a bailiff.
“Keep moving!”
And so she gawped as she walked.
Impressive timber structures had been erected at each end of the yard. The sturdy frameworks supported seven long tiers of bench seating and had stairs at either end.
Voices buzzed with excitement as more people arrived in the yard. They hurried to the structures, eager to clamber up the stairs and claim seats. Whatever spectacle was going to unfold before them, they wanted a prime view.
Hundreds of hours of work must have gone into the construction of the seating, never mind the amount of wood used. To think that Niven had organised all of this as well as the digging of the trench. Not trench – grave. If this was about Slade, it all seemed too much. Sorrel shuddered, dreading to think what Niven had planned.
A wide stage had been erected in front of the jailhouse, so that it and the two banks of seating formed a U-shape. Three imposing black chairs, with red velvet cushions on the seats, had been placed throne-like at the rear of the stage. Near the front, there was a block of wood, about thigh high. Two ominous metal rings were attached to the floor on either side of it.
As more people flooded in and the tiered seating filled with excited spectators, others gathered eagerly in front of the stage and it was in this area Sorrel remained, with her feet on the ground.
She scanned the crowd, hoping to find her friends, but the only familiar faces she saw were two that she’d hoped never to see again.
Staring at her from the third tier of one of the banks of seating were the unmistakeable figures of Pegs and Frip. Pegs squatted toad-like on the bench, a red bandana tied over her empty eye socket. Larger even than Sorrel remembered her from the cell, it was a miracle she’d managed to heave her massive frame up the stairs. No doubt she’d used Frip as her crutch.
Pegs waggled her fingers at Sorrel, while Frip sat thinly by her side, as colourless as her face was blank.
“Sabs!”
Sorrel jumped, thinking Frip had somehow managed to project her voice, but when she turned, Olaf was there. Her relief at seeing the no-neck mutant surprised her.
“Have you seen any of the others?” she asked him.
Olaf jerked his head. Sorrel looked and saw Brig and Ivan cutting through the throng towards them. Brig was as direct as ever.
“I know where the kindergarten is. We’ll go there now, fetch Eli and get out of this place.”
“What about the others?”
Brig looked at Olaf and Ivan. “Find them. Meet us in the alley behind The Three Rats at sundown.”
Brig turned and pushed against the tide of people still flooding into the yard. Sorrel followed in his wake, keeping close so that she did not lose him in the tumult.
“Brig, listen. There’s someone else we have to take. A friend, Alice.”
Brig threw his reply over his shoulder. “If she’s with us by sundown she can come.”
Sorrel’s mind swirled. She couldn’t leave Alice behind, but how would she find her? But Alice wasn’t her only concern. “What about Tailwagger?”
“The girl spy has the dog.”
“But -”
Brig turned his piercing blue eyes on her. “We will never leave without Eli, but we can’t save them all. Forget the dog. It’s already gone.”
Sorrel’s mouth flapped, but before she could think of a reply, a cheer rose at the front of the crowd and spread quickly through the yard. Sorrel looked back to see a squad of black-cloaked bailiffs marching out of the jailhouse in two-by-two formation. She tugged at Brig’s arm. “Wait up.”
They watched as the bailiffs split into two streams which flowed around the stage until they met at the front. Now a river of black separated the people from the stage.
“Niven’s going all out to impress,” Sorrel muttered.
“It’s working,” Brig replied. “Look at them – they love it.”
The tiered seating had been filled, every space taken. People were sat on the stairs, while others had climbed the framework and sat on the crossbars, legs swinging as they held onto struts. Those standing jostled and craned their necks for a better view, and all of them cheered and clapped the arrival of the bailiffs.
“I’ve seen enough,” Brig said. “Let’s go.”
But before he could turn around, the crowd erupted in another volley of cheering. Niven, Willow and Juno appeared at the jailhouse door, the three of them smiling and waving.
It appeared that Juno was no longer Niven’s prisoner, but his ally. That Willow had been elevated to the status of appearing on a public platform with the two of them was surprising enough – where were Niven’s long-time allies, Yolanda and Sam? – but what really shocked Sorrel was the sight of Tailwagger trembling beside the girl.
The trio saluted the crowd, receiving more cheering and applause in return, then climbed onto the stage. A rope with a leash attached had been tied around Tailwagger’s neck. Willow tugged on the leash and dragged the reluctant dog with her.
“I told you,” Brig m
uttered, “the dog is already gone. Seeing it quake up there will only make you feel bad. Come on.”
“No.”
Brig scowled. “We need –”
Before he could say anything more, Sorrel put her hand on his arm. She felt numb, could barely speak.
“What is it?” Brig’s scowl deepened, shrouding his eyes in shadow.
“Look.”
He looked at the stage. Niven was making a speech, playing to the cheering crowd.
Dinawl is united – we will stand strong.
Brig glanced back at Sorrel, looking at her like she’d gone crazy. He didn’t see, he didn’t get it.
“Behind them,” she spoke through her numbness.
Brig looked again.
Niven, meanwhile, waited for the applause to subside before continuing.
To secure our future, we will make whatever sacrifices we must.
Sorrel watched Brig as he looked beyond the three figures on the stage to where a woman, holding a small child by the hand, had emerged from the jailhouse. Brig’s face, always so solid and intimidating, looked for a moment as though his skull had been sucked out from behind it.
This – THIS – is our future.
The woman led the child up to the stage. At first, Sorrel tried to convince herself that she was mistaken, but there was no mistake. The child was Eli.
Eli squirmed when Niven scooped him up, stopping only when Niven whispered something in his ear. With the child now compliant, Niven held him up, displaying him to the crowd.
This boy – this child – symbolises our future. He is all our tomorrows.
The crowd roared in appreciation. All around them, people made comment.
Niven is so wise.
The man talks a lot of sense.
The children, yes – they are our tomorrows.
We must save Dinawl for the children.
Eli dangled limply from Niven’s hands, his eyes dark circles in a face that looked sick with fear.
Sorrel looked at Brig. He had composed himself, but his jaw was clenched and his eyes blazed.
“What can we do?” she asked, barely able to form the words.
“Watch and wait,” Brig replied. “Watch and wait.”
The woman took Eli back into the jailhouse.
The New Day Page 15