by Lan Chan
“He seems to know a lot about your mother,” Sheila says.
“He’s crazy. Always has been. He tried to convince me this seed bank is real, but it’s not.” I hate myself for even revealing that much. As if I’m betraying Connor somehow. But there’s no way I’m going down for something I have no idea about.
“I think we can all agree that Connor Avery is suffering from delusions at the moment,” Sheila says. A couple of the snivelling Wardens snicker. “We’ve allowed him to live this long based on the possibility that some of what he says is the truth. Are you sure there’s something you haven’t forgotten, Aurora?”
The enormity of what she’s saying sinks in like mud through a sieve. She’s putting Connor’s life in my hands. If I say I don’t know what he’s talking about, they’ll kill him. If I lie, then I’ll be the one in danger. Time ticks on. I’m paralysed with indecision.
“Your silence says more than enough,” Sheila drawls. She makes a gesture at one of the guards holding Connor. The guard draws his gun and presses the barrel against Connor’s temple. Connor continues to babble my mother’s name.
“Wait! No, there might be—”
Bang!
Twenty-Two
Terror takes my voice before I can scream. Connor’s lips are still; his entire body falls like a leaf in the forest. With one look from Sheila, the guards lift and carry him away. There isn’t even that much blood. Much less than I’ve already witnessed. The Seeders don’t give me any time to grieve. I don’t expect as much either.
“Now, Aurora, I trust that I’ve impressed upon you the severe consequences of lying to the Council. If it ever comes to light that you have prior knowledge of this seed bank, it’ll be Mr. Casseldon we drag back in here.”
I nod immediately, still unable to utter a word. My mind superimposes Gage in Connor’s position, and I know even if I did know, I would never say a word to anyone.
A knock on the door the Wardens came through shatters my internal turmoil. “Enter,” Sheila says. Harlan steps into the courtroom, and I fall back into a sitting position as disbelief washes over me. Judging by the titters all around, I’m not the only one in shock. Harlan turns to me and smiles before he makes his way up the same steps the Wardens took to the balcony. The robe he wears is silvery grey like a wisp of cloud. The same silvery grey as my Wind Dancer costume. The silvery grey I’ve seen a hundred times before on Gideon.
This time I can’t help but look at Aiden. His expression is bleak. Every feature on his face has been arranged to give off a neutral vibe, but I know better than to trust that. Aiden Forrester is animated. His gestures are big. It’s when he stops moving that you know something is very wrong.
Harlan practically slides across the balcony and into the seat next to his mother. “For too long, the leadership of the Landing has been neglected,” Sheila says. Her gaze darts between Aiden and me before her eyes settle on the court. “Recent events have highlighted the dire need for intervention. Therefore, effective immediately, Harlan has been appointed as the Warden of the Landing, which henceforth will be redesignated as Harlan’s Landing.”
The courtroom breaks out into applause. Even Aiden claps, though it’s slow and strangely timed. Only I remain unmoved, and of course Harlan notices.
“Why the long face, pet?” he says. Everything goes quiet again.
“I don’t understand what you’ll be warden of,” I say. “Half the Landing must be dead by now. Unless—” I hardly dare let myself hope the Seeders will be merciful.
“We’ll cut our losses with that bunch, I think,” he says. “Plenty of people from other regions who’d like a change of pace. In fact, we’ve already started seeking expressions of interest.” He waves a hand and a flat screen lowers from a slit in the ceiling. The screen comes on in the middle of a promo video advertising the advantages of life in the Landing. I don’t recognise a shred of the buildings or the landscape being spotlighted. My house will be gone. They plan to remodel the whole area.
“How can you do this?” I accuse. It’s completely the wrong thing to say, but I can’t stop myself.
“Rules are rules,” Harlan says. “Be thankful the Council has decided there’s a place for you in the Citadel.”
“But the stories, the walkabout…”
“Don’t tell me a sharpshooter like you really believes those old rumours? You’ve been had, my pet. Why would we spare an entire region for the effort of one citizen? We’re rewarding you for your tenacity. Matter closed.”
Why? Why am I surprised? Why is there a scream echoing inside my head? I knew it. I knew it was all a lie, but I was so desperate for a fairy-tale ending that I ate the whole thing up. There was never an intention for this hearing to be about what I needed to say. The Seeders have their agenda. They’ve satisfied it. Now here I am in the one place I never wanted to be again. I’ve lost everything.
Part of me wants to curl into a ball and weep, but I’m still in front of a room full of Seeders, and I won’t let that happen. I bite the inside of my cheek and draw blood. The metallic taste shocks me back into the present. I need to find something to use as a bargaining chip. Maybe I can offer to rejoin the circus? No, somehow I get the feeling that’s where Harlan will be headed with me anyway. It’s Aiden who finally provides me with the obvious.
“Beg your pardon, ma’am,” Aiden says. He addresses Sheila because I doubt he can even look at Harlan right now. “There’s still the matter of this.” He holds out the Micah’s Rose balm, and a guard picks it up and walks it to the balcony. “The cream was found in Miss Gray’s belongings when my unit discovered her in the forest.” The Chief Warden opens the pot, sniffs it, and then passes it down the line.
“Why weren’t we informed of this earlier?” Sheila says. Her tone is lethal, but Aiden keeps cool. I would admire his calmness if I weren’t sickened by what feels like a cheap ploy to garner favour.
“I didn’t want to waste the Council’s time until I knew what it was. The lab results came back this morning.” He passes a thin document to the guard, and that in turn is taken to Sheila. “Most of the chemical components are common. The most abundant being allantoin found in comfrey. There is, however, one component that hasn’t been documented in the archives. You will see in Dr. Bagrov’s notes that the cream is rife with beneficial microorganisms. The doctor believes they are drawn to the compound and help to speed up cell recovery.”
I don’t know if Sheila or I am more interested in what he’s saying. The extent of my technical knowledge about Micah’s Rose is that it boosts the immune system. Hearing the scientific explanation for its medicinal properties is one benefit I never thought I’d get. Even more intriguing is the concentrated interest that plays over the Chief Warden’s features. Her fingers grip the pages of the document before her until she’s almost crumpling them. I’m really in trouble now.
What do I have left to lose? There’s not even the slightest shred of me that believes the Seeders won’t betray either Gage or me as soon as they can. As much as I would never admit it out loud, what Aiden said to me about talking to get myself out of trouble is starting to make sense. Except I’ll probably get myself into more trouble. The only difference is I don’t really care.
That’s why when Sheila looks at me, I am not afraid. At least not as much as I would have been.
“Where did that cream come from?” Sheila says.
I look her directly in the eye without flinching.
“I invented it,” I say. “Using seeds I collected and bred.” There is an inexplicable note of pride in my voice that conveys the truth of what I’m saying. Even though it’s an outright lie, I’m still proud. In this world of absolute Seeder control, I’ve managed to defy them in my own small way. I will die happily knowing they couldn’t cage me completely. The reaction of the Seeders is completely the opposite. I see the guards tense and then look at each other in confusion when they aren’t ordered to arrest me at once.
“What’s its purpose?” Sheila
asks.
I don’t give myself time to reconsider the lies I’m perpetuating or the promise of severe retribution in her tone.
“It was formulated as a cure for the rotting sickness,” I say. “But the dosage would have to be much more than what’s in that pot.”
“I see,” Sheila says. She gathers the papers together. “The Council will adjourn for ten minutes.”
With that the Wardens on the balcony rise and file out exactly the way they came. Harlan winks at me as he walks out the door. I collapse onto the bench again, feeling weak as the adrenaline sustaining me seeps away.
My head droops and I draw my knees up into a protective cage. It’s scant privacy, but I’ll take it anyway. A bead of sweat trickles down my back and my brain pounds like it’s not getting enough oxygen. My mother used to say it’s not worth worrying about something you can’t change. What am I going to do when the Council comes back? Have I already doomed myself with the lies I’ve told? What if they’re doing something terrible to Gage right now?
Not long after my mother was killed, I asked Papa how he could continue on his trips to the Citadel, to perform life-saving surgeries on the very people who destroyed our lives. He told me then that in matters of diplomacy, half the battle is won if you simply deliver the message with confidence. I am so out of my depth because even I don’t believe what I’m saying. How can they?
I miss Papa so much it physically hurts. I want him to take my hand and tell me everything will be okay like he used to when I was a child. Except I’m not a baby anymore. Yet I’m also not grown up, and I have no idea what I’m doing. I can only make it up as I go along and hope for the best.
Ten minutes feels like two, and before I can come up with any real plan, a knock on the door rings ominously loud. The courtroom rises in anticipation. The Wardens file in and take their seats. All eyes turn to the Chief Warden, who still holds the botanical report in her hands. Slowly, she rolls the sheets of paper into a hollow tube and points it at me.
“Stand up, Miss Gray,” she says. I do so with much difficulty. My legs seem to have turned to lead. “The Council has conferred and it has been decided that your life and the life of your companion Gage Casseldon will be spared in exchange for full disclosure regarding the creation of the substance in this cream.”
I’m so shocked by the announcement, I just blurt out the first thing I’m thinking. “Why do you need me to give you the formula? Weren’t you the ones who created the rotting sickness?”
The courtroom draws a collective gasp. Sheila’s eyes narrow to wafer-thin slits. “That is a lie perpetuated by the Wanderers,” she snaps. “If you dare question the will of the Council one more time, the offer of clemency will be withdrawn.”
I keep my mouth shut, but my thoughts are shifting into overdrive. The Seeders don’t have a cure for the rotting sickness. What about rabies? Do they have a cure for that?
“In addition to handing over the formula for the cream, you will be required to resume training in the circus, and there will be repercussions for the breaking of a covenant. Those are the terms. Take them or leave them.”
My tongue feels like sandpaper and I have to roll it around to moisten it. “I choose to leave them,” I say. “I want…” I swallow with great difficulty. “I want to substitute another condition. That the people of Gid—Harlan’s Landing be spared also.”
You can hear a pin drop. Disbelief is evident in the open-mouthed stares the Wardens give me. Then Harlan starts laughing. His high-pitched snicker fills every corner of the room and sets my teeth on edge. I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone so much in my life.
“Oh, pet,” he says. “I’m so happy you’ve come back. This isn’t a negotiation, you know. Captain Forrester, over here if you please.”
What fresh hell is this? Aiden doesn’t ascend the stairs, but instead approaches the balcony. When he’s within arm’s reach, Harlan drops a control pad much like the one Gloria used in the hospital into Aiden’s waiting hands.
The screen above the balcony flickers to life again, and this time I recognise the Landing as it is now, with its deserted stalls and charred orchards. I will an image of the Merchant quarter to appear, but the picture narrows frustratingly until the Landing only takes up the right side of the screen. The left side pans across a vast manmade lake, the only remaining habitable waterway, to a settlement built on stilts. Fishing boats dot the water while suntanned men and women, the citizens of Enid’s Lake, haul in nets laden with farmed fish.
On the balcony, Enid frowns, but she doesn’t say anything. How can she against the son of the Chief Warden?
“Captain,” Harlan says. You can tell he loves being the centre of attention by the dramatic way he’s gesturing. He’s basking in it like the cold-blooded reptile he is. “You hold in your hand a detonator. The Council has agreed that you overstepped your authority when you decided to investigate the origin of the cream. You made a choice that wasn’t yours to decide, and now a choice will be taken from you.”
“Choose, pet,” he says, smiling at me. “You think you’ve got nothing else to lose and the Landing is lost anyway. Let’s see if that’s the case.”
Through his melodramatic babbling, I piece together what he’s actually saying and my body goes numb. He wants me to choose which of the two regions to destroy.
“Please,” I start to say, but he holds up a hand to stop me.
“No, no. A player doesn’t bluff unless they’re willing to be called out. The Council respects your right to deny the offer.”
“I’ve changed my mind!” I say. The alarm in my voice is evident and only serves to heighten his glee.
“So have we. The new terms are your full cooperation in formulating the antidote plus your choice of one region.” Harlan pulls the sleeve of his cloak up his left arm to reveal a wristwatch. “Ten seconds until a new term is added if you don’t make a decision.”
This can’t be happening.
Aiden’s penetrating stare tells me this is real.
“Nine, eight…” Harlan counts down.
I can’t do this. How do I weigh up my father’s life and the lives of everyone else in the Landing? After everything how will I tell Gage that I gave the order to kill his mother? What about Kaede and Angrish? I will be destroying Leura’s family line.
“Five, four…”
On the other hand, how can I punish the people of Enid’s Lake for my mistakes?
“Two, one…”
Papa!
“The Landing!” I scream without thinking. “Destroy the Landing.”
Aiden presses a button immediately, and I wail because the image of the Landing expands again. At first the screen is still and nothing seems to happen. And then two small specks appear as shooting shadows in the sky above the market. The sound is muted, but I swear I feel the heat of the mushroom cloud as it billows into the sky.
I sense the dust and debris all around me, trapping me and stealing away my breath. I have to get out. My feet start running of their own volition. I make it halfway to the door before one of the guards is able to restrain me. I can’t hear what he’s shouting. I have to get out. My teeth clamp down on his arm. A fist cracks against my cheek. My arms are yanked behind my back and I’m lowered to the floor on my stomach and held there.
Harlan gestures and his lips snarl. The guards haul me up and tow me from the courtroom. I turn just as the door closes, and the last thing I see is Aiden’s stark figure standing still against the mayhem. His shoulders heave, and my gaze travels down his arms to the control pad that is now in two broken pieces. It is the worst possible way to find out Aiden Forrester still cares about something.
Twenty-Three
I wake up in my circus bed and know I’ve been drugged because I’m headachy but giddy at the same time. There is a dull ache on one side of my face like I’m recovering from a recent injury. When did they sedate me? I can’t even remember. The curtains are drawn so I have no idea what time it is. The pillows I tos
sed aside have been neatened. I turn over and breathe in the clean scent of fresh sheets and daphne blossoms.
Aiden used to bring me daphne when I was sick. Something about pleasant smells helping recuperation. Thinking of him brings the waves of memory crashing back. I can’t stop the tears this time. They spill from me like a torrent, and I howl like a wild thing with its heart being torn out. I want Papa and Micah and Sully. I want my mother. Everything I’ve ever known is gone, yet I’m more trapped than ever. When will I finally be free of the Seeders? When you’re dead, a voice inside me says. This realisation stops my tears as quickly as they came. I will never be free unless I’m dead. Or they are. It’s the easiest choice I’ll ever have to make.
I turn on the en suite light to splash water on my face. Just as I’m finishing up, the elevator bell rings and a set of heels click. I jump back into the bed and pull the covers up over my head.
“I know you’re awake,” Gloria calls from the lounge. I refuse to get up. She sighs audibly and enters my room, making her way to the window. I hear the click of the curtain control unit, and the room suddenly gets much brighter.
“Go away,” I say.
“Get up,” she says. This time she takes hold of the duvet and yanks. I snatch the section covering me and roll so it makes a cocoon. “This is ridiculous,” she says, giving up. “I’m a doctor, not a babysitter. Stay there if you want Harlan to wake you himself.”
I get up.
“Thought so,” she says. With the duvet off my head, I see that she’s left a small cardboard box on the floor and is holding a cream-coloured envelope in her hand.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to the envelope.
She hands it to me. It’s made of a thick ivory paper with my name embossed in curly gold letters. Inside is an invitation from Harlan to tour the seed manipulation lab. My jaw drops.
“Why would he invite me to this?”
“Didn’t you agree to work there in exchange for your life?” Am I imagining the catch in her voice? Come to think of it, now that I get a good look at her, she seems to have a lot more makeup on than usual. The powder is caked so heavily that false lines have appeared on her usually flawless skin. If I didn’t know better, I could swear she’s been crying.