Phoenix Burning

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Phoenix Burning Page 11

by Bryony Pearce


  “I’m here,” Summer answered sleepily.

  It was an exchange that was repeated among the pairs over and over again as the night dragged on.

  “Lenka, are you there?”

  “Uzuri, talk to me.”

  “Leila, Leila?” The American boy’s voice was growing increasingly urgent. “Leila!”

  Finally he received an answer. “I’m up, Noah.” But Leila’s voice was low and sleepy and Toby knew she had been falling asleep when her partner had called her name.

  Toby himself was beginning to worry. He had stayed away from the small camp bed at the back of his own cell, preferring to sit on the hard floor for the added discomfort, but now even the cold earth was beginning to feel like an embrace. He had slipped down, stretching his legs out before him and leaning on his elbow.

  When his chin jerked forwards and he bit his tongue, he gasped. He grabbed the tine of his fork from his pocket and jabbed at his leg again, hissing with the pain.

  “Ayla,” he called. “Talk to me.”

  “What do you want me to say?” she responded immediately. Toby blew out a rush of air. She was awake.

  “I don’t know.” He got to his feet, racking his brains. He couldn’t ask her about life on the Banshee – they were meant to be sheep farmers from the Falklands. “What’s your favourite food?” It was a dumb question, but better than nothing.

  Ayla snorted. “My favourite food?”

  “Yes, tell me what you like to eat.”

  “Depends on the time of day,” she said in the end. “I like porridge for breakfast, if it’s made properly, you know, with milk. I had syrup in it once. It was … unforgettable.”

  “Have you ever had chocolate?” Toby pressed his head on the wall between them, as if to get closer to her.

  Ayla laughed. “Of course not. No one has.”

  “I have,” Adele’s voice chimed in. “Once.”

  “They have chocolate in France?” Ayla asked.

  “In what’s left of Belgium, actually,” Adrien replied. “Our oldest brother is a trader. He bought it home – he said it was one of the very, very last pieces.”

  “It’s all gone now,” Adele added.

  “What else do you like?” Toby pressed.

  He could almost hear Ayla thinking. “I hate fish,” she said in the end and he snorted loudly.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes. I’d almost rather eat anything else. Gull meat, sprouting potatoes…”

  “But if you had a choice for your last meal ever?”

  “Do you have to?” Arthur grumbled from his cell. “I didn’t eat, remember?”

  Toby’s stomach was rumbling, too. “Sorry.”

  Ayla was quiet for a bit, then she spoke in a low voice. “Can you hear me, Toby?”

  “Barely.”

  “Good,” she spoke even quieter. “Curry,” she said. “When we go to India…” She fell silent. “Well, that’s what I’d have if it was my last meal.”

  Toby raised his eyebrows.

  “What about you?”

  He sighed. “I liked the stew we had at lunchtime. I wonder if Peel could make it, if he had the ingredients. What about your free time, what do you like to do?”

  “I don’t get free time, you know that.”

  “You must, at least sometimes.”

  “No.” Her voice stayed low. “But I liked it when Nell taught me to read. She traded everything a couple of years ago, but for a while we had two real books.”

  “Which ones?” Toby had learned to read from stock manifests and Dee’s Atlas.

  “Something called Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.” Ayla’s voice held a smile. “And the other was The Lord of the Rings.”

  Toby dropped his eyes. “I like to make stuff,” he offered. “Engines – the others call them toys, but they’re prototypes really.”

  A snore cut across their conversation.

  “Who’s that?” Toby jerked to his feet and heard Ayla leap to her door.

  “I don’t know.”

  He strained, but couldn’t tell. “Who’s awake? Call your names.”

  “Arthur.”

  “Summer.”

  “Zahir.”

  There was a pause, then, “Uzuri.”

  “Adele.”

  “Brody.”

  “Moira.”

  “Bianca.”

  “Cezar.”

  “Is it Lenka?” Ayla called. “Did she fall asleep?”

  “I’m awake,” Lenka replied sleepily. “You had better be, too, Matus.”

  “I’m up.”

  “That’s not everyone.” Toby hammered on his door. “Hey, come on! Name call.”

  Finally a husky voice from the end of the row. “Celeste. I’m awake.”

  “As am I. Aldo.”

  “Who does that leave? Who’s missing?” Uzuri called.

  “It’s Adrien,” Adele whispered. “He’s the one snoring.”

  “I didnae hear the ’Mericans, either.”

  “We’re here, we’re awake.” It was the girl. “Aren’t we, Noah?” There was silence. “Noah? Wake up.”

  “I’m awake.”

  “But that means we can go to sleep now, right?” It was Cezar. “Now we’re not last, we can go to sleep”

  “We’ve lost,” Adele wailed.

  “Not necessarily, Adele.” Uzuri’s deep voice was a comfort. “Adrien was first to sleep, which means you are losing now. But you remain awake. If you can stay that way until a pair both fall asleep, then they will be out and you will remain.”

  “You hear that, Cezar?” Bianca snapped. “You have to stay awake. If we both sleep before Adele…”

  Arthur rumbled. “This is a trial to prove our worthiness to be the Sun and Moon. We all have to stay awake. Think of the Sun.”

  “The Sun … Praise the Sun.” The mantras rang out along the passageway and Toby leaned on his door. His whole body started to sag and he jerked back to his feet.

  “This is no good.” He rubbed his eyes again and stifled a yawn. “How long till dawn?”

  “There’s no way to know.” Even Ayla sounded tired now. “My gut tells me we’re a way off yet.”

  “Mine, too.” Toby knew he had a decent internal clock. “I’m going to do some press-ups.”

  “Don’t tire yourself out.”

  “I’m hoping it’ll keep me awake.”

  But after the first ten, Toby’s arms began to shake and he found himself face down on the floor, unwilling or unable to lift himself up again. He closed his eyes for a moment, just briefly, intending to remain awake.

  “Toby!” Ayla’s voice whipped him out of it. It was as if she could sense what he was doing.

  “I’m fine.” Disorientated, Toby staggered to his feet and began jogging on the spot.

  Ayla lowered her voice again. “Think about a problem,” she said. “That’s what I’m doing. Work out how we can solve our problem.”

  “That’s … a good idea.”

  Toby sat cross-legged in the middle of his cell. They had found the inverters, but they were inside the locked crypt, guarded, at least during the day, by two large uncles. Toby shuddered again as he pictured the empty-mouthed guard outside the Reliquary turning on him.

  Could there be another entrance? He considered asking Ayla what she thought, but decided to save their conversation for a time when he was sure everyone else was asleep.

  The wall in between the cathedral and their quarters backed on to the crypt. If there was a way to get through it, they wouldn’t need to pass the guards at all. But how could they dig through a wall without being seen?

  And there was the added problem that they were locked in their cells at night. Would they have to steal the inverters during the day?

  Toby dug his nails into his palm. He’d had the Phoenix’s inverter in the palm of his hand and lost it.

  If they managed to get the inverters, could they get out without resorting to Ayla’s suicide pills? Toby went over thei
r entrance. If they wanted to leave the way they had come, they would have to go back through their quarters and into the cathedral without being seen by attendant brothers and sisters or guardian uncles. Then they would have to get through the main door, which was magnetically locked, across the courtyard without being spotted, and through the massive double gates, which seemed to be operated from within. If they managed all of that, they would then have to make it to the northernmost point of the island without being stopped by any of the Gozitan islanders.

  It seemed impossible. His mind raced, finding no way out of the maze. Frustrated, Toby dug his nails into his palms. The only other way out was through the rear courtyard and over the glass-topped wall, which Ayla thought would drop them over the jagged cliff edge and which was watched by more guardian uncles. The sanctuary of the Solar Order really was a fortress.

  Still, if he could cling on to rigging in a storm, he should be able to manage a cliff climb. If they wanted to escape before the actual festival they’d have to go over the wall. Would it be possible to arrange some kind of distraction?

  As his mind hit one dead end after another, a scraping sound from the back of his cell made him spin around. A tiny hatch slid open and eyes glittered in the cavity. So that was how they were being watched.

  Who was looking at him? Was it Mother Hesper?

  Toby stared back; he refused to be the first to drop his gaze. Finally the grate scraped closed and cold fingers slid up his spine. There was no way for him to know when someone was behind there, listening. Conversations with Ayla would have to wait.

  TWELVE

  The corridor slowly grew lighter, as dawn brought a warm glow to the plastic bottles.

  Cries of relief from the teens welcomed the brightening and Adele led the group in a prayer for the rising of the Sun.

  Adrien had slept only briefly, but Toby knew that he would have been seen. He wondered if anyone else had napped in the night, thinking they were protected by cover of darkness.

  He stretched and yawned. His whole body felt heavy, his arms like weights, his legs numb. He rubbed his gritty eyes and stared, as a spider the size of his thumbnail scuttled across the back of his cell and began to spin a web between the legs of his bed.

  “Everybody out.”

  Mother Hesper was marching down the corridor, robes flapping behind her like great wings.

  “Is it breakfast time?” Summer asked as she staggered from her cell. Her eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed. It wasn’t too difficult to tell that Adrien had rested: he was the only one who didn’t look as if his eyes had been washed in the salt. Adele glowered at her twin, who ducked guiltily away from her glare.

  “Into the courtyard,” Mother Hesper ordered.

  “Can we use the bathroom?” It was the American, Leila. “I need to use the bathroom.”

  Mother Hesper hesitated. “Yes. You may use a toilet.”

  “I want to clean my teeth,” Summer muttered. “I feel like I’ve been eating dust.”

  Toby ran his tongue over his fluffy teeth – his mouth was dry and tasted like sour stew.

  “We have mint leaves you can chew.” Mother Hesper pointed. “This way.”

  He turned as Ayla emerged and leaned on the door frame of her cell. She appeared nonchalant, bright even, but a closer look revealed eyes that were even redder than Summer’s.

  “Morning.” He tried to sound cheerful, but his voice was a rasp, as though he hadn’t used it in a week.

  “That was fun.” Ayla didn’t move. “Only a few hours left now. Looks like the twins are going first after all.”

  “The bells chime just after midday,” Arthur agreed. “We’re nearly there.” He turned to Summer. “Hear that?”

  Summer nodded wearily.

  The teens gathered in the courtyard. Although it was barely morning, the sun blazed down and Toby hid his eyes behind his forearm.

  “What now?” he muttered.

  Mother Hesper stood beside Father Dahon on the steps. She was smiling.

  “I don’t think we’re going to like this,” Ayla muttered.

  “Each of you will have an attendant.” Father Dahon nodded as a troop of sandaled brothers and sisters lined up next to the teens. Sunburst pendants swung from their necks and Toby flinched away from the daggers of light they thrust into his face.

  “The brothers and sisters are here to make sure that you don’t stop –” Father Dahon licked his lips – “because now you must run.”

  “Run?” Adele was horrified. “I thought we just had to stay awake!”

  “If you love the Sun,” Mother Hesper said. “You will push yourself and run.”

  Cezar gestured to his leg. Lack of rest had twisted it up beneath him. “I’m not sure I can…”

  “You will do your best. That is all the Sun requires.” Mother Hesper folded her hands.

  Slowly, in fits and starts, the teens began to run. Arthur set into a solid lope, Noah and Leila not far behind. The others stretched out behind them.

  “How many laps do you want?” Arthur called.

  “Until we say you can stop,” Father Dahon replied.

  The brothers and sisters ran beside the teens, their robes flapping around their knees. Arthur grinned as the brother assigned to him struggled to keep up.

  “How far do you think one circuit of the courtyard is?” Ayla whispered.

  Toby narrowed his eyes. “A third of a nautical mile?”

  “Ashes,” Ayla swore and lurched into a jog.

  Toby groaned and followed her.

  By his second lap he had a terrible stitch. Toby thrust his fist into his side, gasping with pain. Beside him Ayla was keeping pace, but her breathing was laboured. They were pirates, used to climbing rigging and navigating the confines of a ship, not running.

  Most of the other teens were ahead of them, the only ones behind Toby and Ayla now were Bianca, red-faced and panting, and Cezar, who was limping far behind.

  Those ahead were also staggering – exhaustion sending them careering from walls and spiny bushes.

  Barely able to pick up his feet, Toby stubbed his toes yet again and yelped. “How long do we have to keep this up?”

  “Just … keep … going,” Ayla gasped.

  The attendants beside them were quiet, only speaking when it looked like someone was going to stop.

  “Oh my Sun.” Summer dropped back to jog beside Ayla; her face was bathed in sweat and her long blond hair was hopelessly tangled, dropping into her eyes as she stumbled onwards.

  Arthur slowed to wait for them to catch up and grabbed Summer’s arm. “Stay with me.”

  “Why are they making us do this?” Bianca panted from behind.

  “They’re trying to tire us out,” Ayla said.

  Summer giggled and then, suddenly they were laughing; stress and exhaustion bursting out in hilarity.

  Cezar caught up with them as they slowed. “Look.”

  Ahead of them Lenka tottered to one side on shaking legs, then collapsed. Toby could hear her laboured breathing. Matus dropped to her side and pulled at her. “Get up.”

  The brother who was running alongside him grabbed Matus by the arm and shoved him onwards. “You don’t stop.”

  “What about Lenka?” he wailed.

  “She’s asleep.” The sister attending Lenka seemed abruptly sympathetic. “You’ve got to stay awake now.”

  Adele looked back and her dull eyes lit up. “Why not give up, Matus?” she called. “Don’t you want to rest with Lenka?”

  Toby lurched past. “At least get her in the shade,” he shouted.

  He could barely keep his head up, so did not watch to see what happened to her, but the next time he passed the spot, Lenka was gone.

  Six times around the courtyard and Toby’s legs felt like jelly. There was no way they were going to be able to bear his weight for much longer. Cezar was struggling on, but his limp had become so pronounced that he was literally jerking sideways as he ran and his face was screwed up wi
th the pain.

  “They have to let him stop.” He gestured to Cezar then grabbed the brother who was panting at his side. “You’re killing him.”

  “No one’s died from the run yet,” the young man said, but refused to meet his eyes.

  Suddenly, as one, Brody and Moira stopped. They leaned against one another and sagged to the ground. The brothers who had been watching them tried unsuccessfully to persuade them back to their feet.

  “We’re nae asleep,” Brody murmured as Toby reeled past. “We just cannae run nae more.” Exhaustion had thickened his accent.

  “Up.” The angry brother shoved at them, but Moira slipped sideways. “Up!” the bearded man shouted again.

  Brody glowered up at him. “Make me.”

  Summer tottered to a halt just ahead of Toby, her eyes unfocused.

  “Keep running,” the sister beside her bawled. “Don’t you believe in the power of the Sun?”

  “The Sun,” she mumbled and her knees collapsed. Arthur was there to catch her. With a loud exhalation of breath, he heaved her on to his shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” Summer gasped.

  “Running,” Arthur muttered, and he did.

  Summer clutched at him, awake, but barely.

  “He’s a machine.” Ayla looked impressed. Toby just grunted.

  After another circuit of the courtyard, Toby was no longer thinking. He was just watching his feet, willing them to keep moving.

  “Stop.” Ayla clutched his arm.

  “Got to keep running.” He shook her off.

  “Not any more. We can stop.” Ayla released him, unwilling to run after him if it meant taking another step.

  Toby staggered two more steps, three. Then her words hit him and he turned. The other teens were lying on the ground. Only the rise and fall of their chests told him they were still alive.

  “We can stop?” His head felt like a foreign object wobbling on his shoulders. He didn’t dare sit. “The bells haven’t rung.”

  Ayla shook her head. “We still have to stay awake – we just don’t have to run any more.”

  He lifted his head. Mother Hesper and Father Dahon had not moved from their spot on the sanctuary steps. Mother Hesper nodded at him. Permission to halt. The brothers and sisters who had shadowed them were now standing in the shade by the wall, watching, but no longer exhorting them to run.

 

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