Amber Sky (C.O.I.L.S Of Copper and Brass Book 1)

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Amber Sky (C.O.I.L.S Of Copper and Brass Book 1) Page 5

by Claire Warner


  “We have the authority to deal with difficult prisoners,” Marlon argued, his face turning red with frustrated anger. “Just let us take her.” Tay leant back against the wall, watching the argument with increasing concern.

  “Nothing would give me more pleasure.” Tay trembled as the woman shot her a venom-filled look. “Unfortunately”-she closed the file before her-“she’s not yours to manhandle.” The woman pointed back to the chair, and Tay gingerly walked across the room, avoiding the incredulous stares of Marlon as she did so.

  “What?” Marlon turned red with anger, striding across the floor to tower over the Centre Manager. “But you said…”

  “She’s cleared,” the woman answered in a calm, unruffled tone as she handed the discs back. “She’s entitled to the ration.” Relief flooded through Tay as the words penetrated the shroud of panic surrounding her. “I’m not sure how”-the woman glanced down at Tay, and a calculating look entered her eyes-“but all the records are in order.”

  “Can I go?” Tay winced at the tremor that ran through her voice. “If everything’s clear?” Marlon looked down at her, and she swallowed nervously, hoping to escape before the guards created another reason to hold her.

  “Yes.” The woman closed the file and waved her toward the door. “Your ration is waiting in the usual place.”

  Tay got to her feet, and controlled her desire to run from the room. Moving out into the main part of the Centre, she walked through the left door and into the warehouse. A set of steel bars ran along the right-hand side of the room, closing the racks of food to the supplicants that came through the door. A bored clerk took possession of her ration ticket and began to call out numbers to the workers on the shelves.

  As she waited, the door banged open and Marlon and Darrow sauntered into the room. Shuffling forward, she attempted to ignore them as two, wheeled crates were pushed to the centre of the room. The clerk stamped the ticket and nodded, giving her leave to take the ration. Taya secured a set of straps to each of the wagons, mindful of the guards’ scrutiny. There was a bell tone and the side door opened. Tay glanced back over her shoulder and suppressed a shudder at the cold rage on Marlon’s face. As calmly as she could, she dragged the heavy wagons out of the building. The door did not close immediately and she knew that they were watching her.

  Shuffling past the lines of gaunt-faced workers, she did not stop until the Ration Centre was almost out of sight. Darius had kept his word and managed to securely embed her into the system. Had he not done so, she looked back at the stockade with a shudder of remembered fear. Thoughts of Marlon and Darrow rippled through her mind, and she shook her head, trying to dispel the memory. Bracing the straps against her shoulders, she started the trek home.

  The noise of the wheels against the cobbled streets bounced off the surrounding walls, and she became more vigilant. It was not unheard of for groups of scavengers to mug those carrying rations. To give the guards their due, they violently discouraged such theft, but it did not dissuade the hardened or desperate. A wheel jammed into a pothole, and the weight of the trolley nearly pulled her over. Nervous and conscious of the deepening shadows, Tay crouched in the dirt, trying to free the trapped wheel. A whistle sounded off to the left, and she looked up. In the distance, she could see several figures silhouetted against the sky, and her heart beat even faster. Another sharp tug and the wheel jerked free. With the panicked thud of her heart hammering in her chest, she started to run, fear lending her the strength she needed to drag the trolleys. Another whistle, this time to the left, galvanised her to further speed. She rounded the final corner to her home, looking at the thin tendril of smoke from the chimney with increasing cheer. The whistles became running footsteps, and she pushed more energy from her aching legs. Reaching the front door, she wrestled with the key, expecting to be attacked at any moment. Her hair whisked across her face, as she finally unlocked and pushed open the door.

  “Tay.” Lana threw her arms about her as she dragged the wagons across the threshold. “You’re back.”

  “Don’t sound so shocked.” Tay forced a chuckle, driving the unpleasant scene in the centre to the back of her mind. She reached back and slammed the door, pushing the bolts home, before she turned to her sister and returned the hug. “It’s good to see you,” she whispered, taking as much strength as she could from the embrace. Even with the door closed, she could still hear the catcalls and whistles of the gang.

  “Aren’t you going to talk to me?” She turned as Roj walked in from the kitchen.

  Tay smiled and, without letting go of Lana, drew him into the hug.

  “I missed you guys,” she whispered, feeling the final traces of tension drop away in the warmth of their embrace.

  “Let’s get this stuff away,” she noted, pulling away from the group, as she tried to hide the gleam of happy tears from her siblings.

  “Sure.” They moved apart and began to unpack the wagons one at a time.

  “Medicine.” Lana held up a small, brown, glass phial and peered at the label. “It’s for grazes, burns and cuts,” she noted with wonder as she gingerly transferred the item to the cupboard.

  “New clothes,” Roj crowed as he pulled a small, shrunken package from the box. Tearing open the top of the parcel, they watched as the smooth wrapping expanded to almost twice its size, revealing a complete set of winter clothes for each of them. Roj took the new clothes upstairs, as Tay carefully folded the clear, slippery fabric that had been the package. She could never understand how the package shrunk its contents, but all deliveries of new garments came in such wrapping. She placed the bag into a drawer and began to dig through the wagon again.

  “Money.” Lana picked up a leather pouch and peered inside. A gleam of gold reflected the light, and Tay stopped what she was doing to stare at the small pile of coins.

  “Oh my…” she sighed, looking at the gleaming gold with awe. “Place it behind the loose brick in the fireplace,” she ordered as she began to work out what she could afford to buy. As Lana moved to obey, Tay reached back into the wagon and began to remove the carefully packed food items. Meat, butter, flour and a large sack of potatoes. Walking into the kitchen, she loaded them onto the shelves, filling the cupboard for the first time ever.

  A knock sounded at the front door, and Tay moved back to the hall. Undoing the bolts, she pulled open the door to reveal two men. One was tall with straw-coloured hair poking out from beneath a thin woollen hat, the other was stocky, with thinning hair shaved down to near stubble. Both wore the rough garb of the Factory, the ragged, thin fabric barely keeping out the cold. Her heart sank slightly as she recognised the pair of them. Lars and Cody, both friends of her father and deeper in the resistance than she cared know to about.

  “Tay.” Lars stepped forward, his voice pleasant. “Can we come in?” Beneath the mass of hair, a pair of green eyes stared out from a prematurely lined face.

  “Sure.” Tay stood back, and let the two walk past her into the hallway. Before she shut the door, she glanced back out into the street, checking for anyone watching. Satisfied that no one was paying attention, she closed the door and returned to her visitors.

  “What’s all this?” Lars asked, pointing at the wagons.

  “Ration,” Tay answered shortly as she pushed past them, and entered the main living room. “Why are you here?” she asked as they followed her in and sat down on the sagging couches.

  “I take it you got to see Darius,” Cody noted, nodding back in the direction of the wagons.

  “Yes,” she replied, sitting down on one of the other chairs with a growing sense of dread.

  “So where does the second box come from?” Lars asked, glancing toward the hall in curiosity.

  “She works in a merchant house.” Tay’s heart sank further as Roj poked his head around the door and spoke.

  “Really?” Lars cast a quick glance at her and turned back to face Roj. “How did she manage that?”

  “Darius got her the job,” R
oj answered absently as he returned to the wagons. “She’s been working there a week.”

  “That’s interesting,” Lars noted as he turned to face Tay. “What happened?” he asked, a strange smile on his face.

  “Nothing really,” Tay answered, disliking the knowing look that now crossed Lars’ face. “I did what you said.” She stood up, trying to find some confidence. “I went to Darius and asked him to help father.”

  “Then why are you at a merchant house?”

  “It doesn’t matter why,” Cody broke into their conversation. “She’s now in a position to help.”

  Tay felt her stomach roil at his words and she took an involuntary step backward. Cody and Lars were more than her father’s friends. They had been deeply involved in the campaign for better accommodation, rations, clothing, and it was only by a fluke that they hadn’t been picked up by the authorities along with her father.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice a breathy whisper, hoping that he wasn’t suggesting that she join their doomed revolution. Her mother had died, and her father’s small involvement had already landed him in the Mine. Much as she hated the authorities, Tay was not looking to follow either of her parents to disaster.

  “Information,” Lars replied. “You’re in the perfect place.”

  “I wash dishes,” she retorted. “I can’t even look at the family, let alone find out state secrets.”

  “Don’t you want to change things?” Cody raised his voice as he stepped closer to her, idealistic fervour shining from his face. “You can’t be happy with the way things are.”

  “By doing what?” she hissed back at him, angry at the righteous spiel flowing from his lips. She had heard this rant before, and it had cost her both parents. “Writing a petition?” Derision dripped from every syllable. “Or do you plan to sabotage the supply train for real?” Lars glanced down at the floor, cut to the quick by her words. “It won’t work because no one is willing to stand with you.”

  “Well you certainly aren’t,” Cody snarled down at her, and she took an involuntary step back. “Your parents would be ashamed of you.” He cast a glance toward the wagons in the hall. “Selling yourself to the Overseer’s son for a few extra grams of flour.”

  Tay reacted without thinking, slapping him hard across the face.

  “How dare you.” Her voice was low, too angry for much volume. “My mother died for this rebellion, and my Father went to the Mine for you.” She advanced forward and raised her hand again. “You let him take the fall for a plot that you were in up to your necks.” Taking a deep breath to control her voice, she continued. “You are quite happy for me and my siblings to starve once my Father dies, how dare you assume what my parents would want.”

  “Cody.” Lars took a step forward, and placed a hand on his arm, drawing him backward. “This isn’t the way we do things.” Cody drew a breath, and reluctantly stepped back. Lars watched him back off before he glanced back to Tay. “I understand how you feel.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “But,” he overrode her, “we can’t continue on like this.” He waved at the shabby surroundings and paltry fire. “We’re starving and dying by inches.” He walked forward, intensity in his gaze. “The rating system is skewed, you have to see that.”

  “But what can we do?” she whispered, unable to deny the truth of his statements.

  “There’s more of us than you think,” he continued, his voice soft and coaxing. “We can change the system, redistribute the wealth.”

  “It’ll be impossible.”

  “Then help us.” He leant toward her, a plea in his blue eyes. “We can help you.”

  “How?” She wanted to believe him, wanted to hope that there could be something better for them than the life they currently led. Both her parents had shared that dream, and it had taken them away.

  “Find the Coils of Copper and Brass.”

  Tay nearly laughed at his words. The Coils of Copper and Brass were a fantasy, an old fairy tale told to children, and certainly nothing to pin dreams of freedom on.

  “They do exist,” Lars continued to speak, recognising the look of amusement on her face.

  “I’m sure they do.” Lars winced at the derision in her voice. With two quick strides, she returned to the hall and flung the front door open. “You two, get out now.”

  Lars and Cody glanced at each other before Lars nodded in resignation and they walked to the door.

  “I mean it.” Lars turned back to her just at the door. “The Coils exist, and they will help us win.”

  “Get out!” she shouted, her patience finally exhausted by their visit. “I don’t want to see either of you here again.” Reaching past Lars, she held the door open, wafting an icy cold breeze down the hall.

  Cody took one look at her furious face and ducked past her into the street. Lars stayed for a few moments more, a beseeching look on his face.

  “Please listen, Tay,” he whispered softly, staring at her intently. “You can help us.”

  “Goodbye.” She stepped back and closed the door in his face before leaning forward and resting her forehead against the cold wood.

  “What was that all about?” Lana walked in from the kitchen, concern etched on her face.

  “They wanted me to spy for them.”

  “Yeah, I heard that,” Lana interrupted, coming to a stop beside her. “But that’s not what I meant.” Tay turned and leant back against the door, looking at her. “What I want to know is”-she took a breath-“what are the Coils of Copper and Brass?”

  “Didn’t you ever hear Father speak about it?”

  “No.” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Roj enter the room and lean against the balustrade opposite.

  “Oh…” She glanced at the pair of them and lowered her head. “Okay…” She hadn’t expected to talk about this myth, particularly after a visit from Lars and Cody. She relocked the door and headed back into the sitting room. Roj and Lana followed her in, closing the door and stoking up the fire.

  “It was really Mother’s story,” she said, settling down into the armchair and tucking her feet beneath her. She took a breath and started to recount the tale in a sing-song tone of voice. “Long ago, when the sky was blue”-Roj gave a small snort of laughter at that idea-“the founders created the Coils of Copper and Brass.” Both Roj and Lana leant forward to hear the tale, and for a moment she forgot she was talking to her siblings. In that instant, she travelled back several years, back to her childhood, and her mother’s voice softly describing the story that she had never given credence to. It had been her favourite tale from childhood, and she had loved some of the more outlandish aspects, such as the sky being blue. Yet as she had grown, she had put aside all thoughts of that story, even when she encountered it as a legend within one of the books in the school library. It provoked far too many sad memories.

  “Tay?” Her head snapped up at Roj’s questioning voice. Shaking her head free from dark recollections, she began again.

  “Back when the sky was blue”-Lana shifted into a more comfortable position and listened intently-“a sickness fell across the land, poisoning the air and water.” She settled into the story, letting her words weave a spell. “Our founders saw the coming destruction, and they saw the solution. They would come to a place free from poison.” Roj sat down at her feet and leant against the chair. “So they did.” She shifted her position, allowing Roj to climb onto her knee. “To do this, they created the Coils of Copper and Brass. The Coils turned the sky amber, and kept us safe.” She took a breath and glanced at her sister; Lana was staring at her with rapt attention. “For many years, everything was fine, but then the sickness came, and the only salvation was the Coils.” Roj’s eyes flicked to hers, and she could see the excitement behind them. “But the Coils had been lost. A group set out to find them…”

  “Did they succeed?” Roj asked, almost bouncing up and down with excitement.

  “Of course they did, stupid,” Lana int
erjected with scorn. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”

  “Don’t be mean to your brother,” Tay said absently.

  “But what happened?” Roj asked.

  “After undergoing a dangerous journey, the seekers finally recovered the Coils, and used the power within them to cure everyone.” There was considerably more to the story, but Tay didn’t want to delve into the more lurid parts. “Everyone healed and grew stronger. But the Coils disappeared. After that, we discovered the secrets of steam, and better harvesting techniques.”

  “Is that why Lars wants to find them, to make everyone stronger?” Lana asked, snuggling into the back of the chair as she spoke.

  “Yes,” Tay replied, remembering what her mother had told her. “It’s been said that the Coils are the key to freedom.”

  “How, though?” Lana mused, her voice sleepy. “What are they and what do they do?”

  “Nobody knows what they look like,” Tay replied, “Mother only said that they were very powerful, that they could cure sickness and even turn the sky blue again.”

  “Then why didn’t they use them before?” Roj asked, his forehead creasing in confusion.

  “And the noble families?” Lana spoke up from her position by the fire. “I heard my teacher say that they arrived about the same time.”

  “She’s right,” Tay confirmed, wondering how Lana’s teacher had managed to tell that bit of the story without getting arrested. “The noble families seized control of the capital and imposed their control. Some said that they had learnt the secrets of the Coils, as their power base grew extremely quickly. And the rest is history.”

  “So, if they have the Coils,” Roj asked, his voice brightly curious. “How can us having them, save us?”

  “Because nobody really knows if the nobles do have the Coils,” Tay explained, much as her mother had done all those years ago.

  Both fell silent for several moments, digesting her words carefully. “So…” Roj began, his face screwed up in earnest. “If we find the Coils of Copper and Brass, we will be free?”

  “That’s the theory,” Tay agreed, wondering if she had made a mistake in telling them the story. “There’s no evidence that it’s true,” she insisted, worried by the eager look on Lana’s face. “No one has ever been able to prove that they exist.”

 

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