by T. C. Edge
It only grows when Mrs Carmichael sits on my bed and hands me the letter. I hastily break the seal and let the words glow, rushing my eyes over them eagerly.
Dear Miss Melrose,
At the request of Mr Shaw, your marriage approval test has
been set for tomorrow afternoon at 2PM.
Should you pass, you will be permitted to immediately
marry Mr Shaw, and will be taken to the Office of Nuptials
to sign your wedding contract with him.
Your liaison has been instructed to escort you to your
examination. Please make sure you dress
appropriately.
All the best of luck to you.
Katherine Kirkland,
The Council of Matrimony.
“Well, that was quick,” remarks Mrs Carmichael. “So, it’s really happening then?”
I nod, rereading the letter to make sure I take it all in.
“So how did it go with Agent Woolf yesterday? I assume everything was alright, since you’re here, safe and sound?”
I put the letter down and briefly consider my response.
“It went fine,” I lie, deciding to keep her in the dark.
Now that the agent has me in her sights, it’s best if I keep all information about my current dealings from anyone who could be under threat. I have some defence against the woman. Mrs Carmichael doesn’t.
Should she learn of the latest things I’ve been up to, they’ll be right there for Agent Woolf to find if she decided to come knocking. Right now, I don’t trust my ability to conceal the information inside my guardian’s head. Only Zander could manage that.
Of course, she probes a little more, and I end up shutting down entirely. Tess appears to be coming back onside. Now, perhaps, Mrs Carmichael will take her place.
That’s the suspicion that runs through my head as I deny her any juicy details of my latest adventures. I probably don’t give her enough credit, though. She quickly quits her attempts to extract the info.
“Fine, keep your cards close to your chest, Brie,” she says. “So this marriage of yours…how does it work? Do you need any witnesses?”
“Are you offering your services, Brenda,” I grin.
“No, just interested. Although, if you need me I suppose I could help.”
“That’s sweet, but I don’t think they require any such thing. Marriage there is just a formality, a legal contract. As far as I know, I just have to sign something that binds me to Adryan.”
“How romantic,” she huffs.
“I don’t think romance was ever part of the equation,” I say.
She peers into my eyes, as if reading my mind as I can do.
“I’d be careful to make sure you live up to that,” she suggests. “You don’t have feelings for him, do you?”
I scrunch up my eyes a little too heavily, and lean away from her.
“Of course not,” I say with a puff of air. “He’s basically a working colleague.”
“Hmmmm. Well, just remember who he is. I’d keep him at a distance as much as you can.”
I yawn, but not through tiredness, and roll my eyes.
“Are you still doubtful? About all of this? Haven’t you seen enough to convince you this is all for the best?”
She doesn’t answer my question.
“I’m just disappointed. I wanted you to marry a normal man here in Outer Haven. I wanted you to be happy.”
“We’ve been through this before. Happiness isn’t relevant to me right now. There’s only the mission.”
“And when it’s over?”
“Then…maybe. But I can’t afford to look that far ahead.”
She smiles and leans in, leaving me with a kiss to the forehead and no further words. I’m grateful for that. Right now, I’m in no mood for a debate or any sort of interrogation. God knows I’ve had about enough of that recently.
There’s not a great deal for me to get up to, however, after she leaves me alone. Again, I’m back to playing the waiting game, confined to this place. I consider heading north and making my way back down to the underlands, seeing Drum and Zander again, maybe doing some more training.
But then I realise that such a thing would be folly right now. Nothing but a chance for things to go wrong. Instead, I satisfy myself with a telepathic conversation with my brother that’s far more effortless than ever before, owing to my flowering mental gifts.
Right now, he’s about the only person, besides perhaps Adryan, who I can be completely honest with. So I quickly explain as concisely as I can – my ability to communicate psychically, while improving dramatically, still takes a little out of me - what’s been happening with me, and where things are going next.
Good, comes his voice, echoing through my mind. Things are moving fast. You’re ready for this, Brie. Have faith.
But what about Agent Woolf? I ask. She’s hunting me down, Zander. She could come and find me at any moment. I don’t know if I can stop her again.
Leave the academy, he tells me. Go somewhere where no one will find you. Return only to sleep. Stay out of sight until tomorrow afternoon, and you’ll be fine.
I take his advice and make for the eastern quarter. For what might be the final time, I climb to the roof of the warehouse and stare out at the mountains beyond. I cast my Hawk-gaze upon the natural formations that have so long enticed me, teasing me from afar.
I always longed to see them closer, to walk among the high passes, but never truly considered such a thing to be possible. Now, the future holds all sorts of possibilities. There’s a whole world out there that I’m longing to explore, adventures beyond the boundaries of this city just waiting to had.
And for that afternoon, I fall into daydreams again, enjoying my final hours alone before my world changes for good tomorrow. I sit and think and just stare out, the sun gliding across the sky and fading away against the horizon, bringing the warming hues of a red sunset with it as it dips.
The beautiful colours change and flow, and soon the darkness begins to descend, and the faint moon appears against the blackening veil above. I stay there for as long as I can allow, getting dangerously close to curfew before working my way back home.
And when I do, I enter the main hall to find an unusual sight ahead of me.
It’s full, all of the academy gathered together. Immediately, a strike of lightning cuts through my chest and I search in panic for Agent Woolf.
Has she come again to speak to me? To speak to everyone? Have I just doomed us all?
I don’t see her, though. Nor do I see fear or dread among the soft, youthful faces before me. Instead, I see rising smiles all round, the girls in particular beaming as I enter.
At the front, I see the cute face of Abby grinning so brightly it looks as through her cheeks might burst. Her little cohort of friends look similarly pleased to see me. The boys appear less interested, the likes of Brandon the bully and his posse looking like they’d rather not be there.
Then, from the side, my eyes turn to find Mrs Carmichael coming towards me with Tess. It’s my friend who steps forward first.
“What’s going on, Tess?” I ask.
“It’s a surprise,” she says. “We know that weddings in Inner Haven aren’t celebrated. So…we thought we’d do something for you tonight instead.”
“This is for me? I…I don’t know what to say.”
I really don’t. I’m rarely speechless but this is one of those occasions.
“Whose idea was it?”
“Well…mine,” says Tess. “It’s my way of saying sorry.”
“Tess…you don’t need to…”
“I do,” she says, cutting me off. “And I want to. It’s nothing anyway. We’re just here to send you off tonight in relative style, for this place at least! Some of the kids have prepared a nice meal, that’s all.”
I spread my gaze to the gathering and feel my cheeks burning. It’s a strange mixture, really, of appreciation and joy at the gesture, with a t
opping of guilt that all of this is being done for a fake marriage.
“Thank you all so much,” I say, trying to stop any embarrassing tears from assembling. “This really means…the world to me.”
My voice cracks and ends. Mrs Carmichael calls out for the throng to head for the canteen.
“OK, show’s over. All of you, go ahead and get started.”
They don’t have to be told twice. With the typical rush that accompanies dinnertime, the kids begin scrambling down to the corridor at the back. Special meals like this are so rare, and usually only accompany major birthdays or graduations of long-term residents from this place when they move out and get a housing silence. Or, like me, marry.
Now alone, Tess pulls me into a hug.
“I’m going to miss you,” she mumbles. “So much.”
“I’ll be just across the wall. I’ll come back…often. I promise.”
Over her shoulder, I see the look in Mrs Carmichael’s eyes. She knows that’s not true. Only she knows how fake all of this really is.
I have to contend with that growing feeling of fraudulence as the evening goes on. In the canteen, a few sparse decorations have been put up and a two course meal has been prepared.
Even a seating plan of sorts has been arranged, with my spot at the middle table along with Tess, Mrs Carmichael, and a few of the other residents of my age group. Around us, the tables are set by age too, the dinner far more ordered than normal.
The food is nice for this place. I feel a further stab of shame at the thought that goes through my head as I munch on the chicken and potatoes: that as nice as this is, it’s nothing compared to what Adryan has cooked up.
When desert comes, however, I’m greeted with a large chocolate cake that, purely on appearance, looks incredibly appealing. It’s not particularly neat, but what does that matter when it’s so loaded with sugar and tasty butter icing?
I’m forced to blow out a single candle on the top, a little tradition here during any such occasion, before making a speech. I bumble through it, trying not to cry. I feel fine until I see Abby across the room in floods, which only serves to set me off.
I feel completely ridiculous, but the applause at the end of my speech suggests I did a decent job. Then, as we all tuck into the lovely cake, Mrs Carmichael brings out a bottle of her finest whiskey and pours glasses for all of the top table.
Tess digs straight in with a great amount of vigour, while the others are more tentative, a couple coughing and spluttering as I did the first time I tasted the acrid brown liquid. They raise their glasses to me to send me on my way, and my feeling of deception increases further.
They all seem to take it as embarrassment, and perhaps nerves, in the face of all this attention. Only Mrs Carmichael knows the true nature of my crinkled brow and the awkward fidgeting that accompanies every kind gesture or word that comes my way.
When we get some time alone, however, she offers some nice words of her own to soothe me.
“I know you feel uncomfortable with all this, but you shouldn’t,” she says. “So your marriage is fake, but you should be celebrated for something far greater than that. You’re trying to save these kids, Brie. I know I have my doubts about this sometimes, but you’re doing a wonderful thing. A brave thing. And I’m proud of you.”
Her words draw fresh tears from my eyes.
“I’m frightened, Brenda,” I say. “I don’t know if I can…”
She takes a firm hold of my shoulders.
“You can, Brie. And you will.”
Those simple words firm me up again. I blink the tears away and continue to battle through the evening until it gradually comes to a close, by which time I’m desperately seeking the solitude of my room, away from all the lies and deceit.
Sitting on my bed together, I thank Tess once more. And once more she brushes away the gesture and reminds me that anyone who gets married, or even a housing license, gets the same treatment.
Still, given my circumstances, I don’t feel I deserve it.
“I have one more thing for you, though,” she says.
Her blue eyes sparkle in the dim room. I’m so happy to see them again, to have my friend back. She stands and moves over to her bed, before bending down and pulling a storage box from under it.
Opening it up, she draws something out and stands, holding it behind her back as she comes towards me.
“I got something for you,” she says. “Call it a wedding gift.”
“Tess, you shouldn’t have.”
She steps closer, and from around her back she draws out a rectangular piece of white card. I stare at it.
Is that…
She spins the card over, and the faces of my parents appear before me. And me, as a baby, in their arms. It’s a little faded, as it’s always been, some of the details slightly distorted. But it shines with a new protective layer of lamination, and my eyes rise back to hers.
There’s a hopeful smile arched across her mouth.
“My picture,” I whisper. “But…how?”
She reaches out and hands it to me. I take it up and inspect it slower, and feel the inevitable bubbling of tears once more. I can’t remember ever feeling as emotional as I have these last couple of days.
“It was when I found you here, passed out,” she explains. “When I was helping Brenda patch you up, I saw your clothes. She said she was going to burn them…but I remembered your picture. I thought it might be in your jacket, so I looked. I was wet and damaged. I took it to get it restored. I was thinking of giving it to you to say sorry…”
I stare again at the picture, and then at Tess.
“That’s the sweetest thing…” I mumble. “The nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me…”
“It’s nothing,” she tells me, shaking her head. “I know how much that picture means to you. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“It is,” I whisper. “It…it means the world. Thank you…thank you so much, Tess.”
I stand and move towards her, and pull her into an embrace, our bodies locking in the middle of the room. And having her back, part of me doesn’t want to let go. Doesn’t want to leave this place. Doesn’t want my life to change.
But it will. I know it will.
Tomorrow, it will change forever, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Either death or freedom…that’s what awaits me now.
78
Some days you just want to get out of the way. They’re barriers to break through, hurdles to jump over, nothing but blockages in the path towards your real goal.
Today is one of those days. I wake early, my mind too alert to fall back to sleep. Unusually, it’s me who rises before Tess, dressing in my gritty clothes and deciding to head straight out into the cold dawn before anyone else rises.
As far as I’m concerned, I said my goodbyes last night, and don’t need to go through them again. Maybe I’ll see my friends here again, maybe not. Either way, I can’t allow them to play any part in my thoughts right now.
With the cool misty air hogging the streets, I decide to take a wander, leaving the academy until I’m due back before Sophie’s arrival. With my test beginning at 2PM, I can assume that she’ll come and collect me at least an hour before to give us plenty of time to get there.
I’ll spend as much as I can out here alone, just in case Agent Woolf should come calling.
My journey takes me all over, hoping on and off the Conveyor Line occasionally, doing a tour of the various attacks of the Fanatics. I work through them chronologically, starting with the attack at Culture Corner that started all of this off, before moving towards the factories at the eastern quarter, and ending my journey back at the main market near Brick Lane.
Each site is in varying stages of recovery. Culture Corner, as I saw the other day, is back in decent health, although continues to be avoided by even the most avid of art lovers. The factory in the east has been cleared too, an odd patch of emptiness among the sea of factories and warehouses t
hat dot that part of town.
The market, however, remains in a bad state. Not only was the blast the most recent, but it was also the most devastating, tearing the central square to shreds and bringing down some of the surroundings tower blocks too.
Standing on the outskirts, I spare a thought for a good number of people as I look upon the carnage: Fred and Ziggy, who lost their lives; Rycard, whose own life, and that of his family, has been permanently changed by the attack; the hundreds of others who died, and their friends and family who now mourn them.
I let the anger fill and brew within my veins, soaking up every last drop of hate I can for those who inflicted such a thing on the innocent people of the city. When the time comes, I’ll use it wisely. For now, I bottle it up and store it safe, somewhere deep in the recesses of my soul.
I only return to the academy when I have to, going over a few things in my head as I do. Mostly, I make sure to recall the details of Adryan’s life, and the features of life in Inner Haven that I’ll need to prove knowledge of.
Sophie, of course, is there to remind me of such things. I find her already awaiting me in the foyer, pacing from side to side as I cross the threshold.
“Goodness me, Brie, where in the world have you been?!”
“Just…walking,” I say.
“Walking! Today of all days?! Have you packed at least?”
“Erm…”
“Give me strength! Come on, let’s get you sorted. We have so little time as it is.”
I’m rushed upstairs and set about packing away the paltry number of possessions I intend to take with me. In all honesty, I never thought I’d need to bring anything, assuming that it would all be provided.
“Well, it will, mostly,” Sophie informs me. “But what about all those clothes we bought the other day? You were just going to leave them behind were you?!”
She’s stressed out, I can tell. To be fair, you’d have to be deaf, blind, and dumb to not work that out.
“Sorry,” I say. “I’ve been distracted.”