Poison

by Lan Chan

  All eyes are on me when my tears subside. “No more,” I say. “No more throwing children from planes. I am your last Wind Dancer.” Then I think about it. “And this Wind Dancer is a brunette.”

  Forty-Three

  The first mission to find the seed bunker is set three days after my surgery to have my follicles replaced. Gloria is adamant that I need to rest, but it’s impossible for me to stay away. That’s why she tags along when my new driver deposits us on the tarmac.

  By rights, I should be the one on the search team for the red plane, but the Council doesn’t trust me not to make off on the way. From what I can tell, it’s only a reconnaissance mission, and soon enough, I’ll get my chance to make a break for it and go searching for the seed bank on my own.

  Gloria and I come up behind Aiden as he’s being given last-minute instructions from the airplane pilot and crew. I don’t recognise any of the other Seeders who are part of the team, but at least two of the four of them have implants in their necks. Sitting on all fours at the Seeders’ heels are three enormous sabrewolves. The biggest of them sniffs the air as Gloria and I approach.

  I freeze as the beast lumbers over and proceeds to dig his nose into my hip. My eyes close from both fright and sadness because this sabre is scary, but at the same time, his curiosity reminds me so much of Sully.

  “Razor!” Aiden calls.

  The sabre retreats immediately. I refuse to meet Aiden’s eyes as he places as hand on the sabre’s neck and scratches him. I produce a palm tablet from my satchel and toss it at Aiden, not caring if he’s quick enough to catch it. I’ve been instructed to type out the story of Weebil and the Red Rock so Aiden has the tale as a reference. Too bad I’ve left out a lot of the story and Aiden will probably come up empty-handed.

  “Thanks,” Aiden says. I go to walk away, when he extends his arm and bars my exit. The tightly knotted ball of anger that I barely keep contained unravels. I know he sees it when our eyes finally meet because he smiles like a cat in a birdcage.

  “He likes you,” Aiden says. I want to spit in his face, but I only allow myself to shrug. “He’s Sully’s older brother, you know?”

  “Sully’s dead because of your pilots,” I say, and then I push past him and rejoin Gloria.

  The expedition group boards shortly after, and I’m safely inside the airport when they eventually take off. I’m about to tell Gloria I’m ready to leave when a wet nose pushes itself into my palm. When I look down, Razor turns around twice in a circle and then sits on his hind legs. Tucked into his collar is a note. I open it with shaking hands.

  Rory,

  Someone to watch you while I can’t.

  Aiden

  I hate him so much.

  ***

  Skylar isn’t happy I’ve moved into the Chief Warden’s estate. Even if it’s just into the modest disused servants’ retreat attached to the main house. She’s taken the news of my survival worse than most of the Council, and though she must think her complaints to Harlan are whispered, I can hear her clear as day through the picture window in my room.

  They’re out there now, taking a walk around the manicured garden. No doubt Harlan will come to ask me to join them, as he has done for the past week. I’ll hate myself, but I’ll go anyway. Partly to cure my boredom, but mostly because playing nice with the Seeders is one of the conditions I agreed to in exchange for my own agenda to be met.

  Another of the conditions was for the release of any aerialist who no longer wanted to be part of the circus. That the Seeders agreed to it says a lot, because besides Skylar and me, only two other aerialists remain. All the others were released with the dire warning that should they speak of what happened, anyone they care about would feel the repercussions. Despite the Seeders’ apparent generosity, I made Dory promise to video call me once every day so I know she’s alive and well.

  As predicted, Harlan and Skylar appear at the door. The smile he gives me would be infectious if I wasn’t immune to his games. In contrast, Skylar is sour as a lemon. I want to smack the disdain off her face, but I can’t help feeling like Papa sold her out to save me, and that weighs heavily on my conscience. Turns out Skylar knows all about the journal, and by agreeing to help the Seeders, I’ve gone and stolen her sunshine again. I don’t blame her for disliking me, but my temper has been erratic, and I don’t know how much more of her I can take without snapping.

  Harlan offers me the crook of his arm, but before I can reluctantly accept, Skylar swoops in and steers him away. We take the cobbled walkway through the middle of the ornamental garden, stopping occasionally so Harlan can prattle on about this and that feature or flower that wouldn’t even exist if his ancestors hadn’t decided they should change the course of nature.

  Objectively, I have to admit the garden is beautiful with its dazzling array of voluminous flowers. If I sit in the right spot, the cedar hedge blocks out the Citadel skyline and I can imagine I’m somewhere else. But all too soon the heady perfumes become overwhelming. I’d give anything to be able to visit the Forgotten Garden again, but it’s closed for reconstruction, and I am understandably banned from setting foot in there ever again. My stunt destroyed a little over a quarter of the trees and blew a hole in the turf.

  I’m so consumed with my own thoughts that it takes me a while to realise Skylar is speaking to me.

  “She’s doing it again,” Skylar says to no one in particular. “How is she going to help find anything if she can barely remember where she is?”

  “Hush,” Harlan says. They speak like I’m not even there. Maybe I’m not. Maybe this is all a nightmare and I’ll wake up back in the Landing. “Still having trouble sleeping, pet?”

  It’s as though he’s had selective amnesia and has forgotten everything that’s brought us to this point. More than once, I’ve gone to sleep and woken up terrified, believing I’m falling from the sky again. That’s assuming I fall asleep at all. For the last three nights, I’ve come out into the garden and attempted to climb the sycamore beside the mansion. I get just far up enough to the point where I know I’ll hurt myself if I fall, and then I have to get back down. Thankfully, aerialist training has been put on hold until the Council decides what to do with the four remaining aerialists. Harlan is the last person I want to discuss the issue with, but if he’s going to feign concern, then I’ll take my cue from him.

  “Just a little,” I say. “I’m sure it’ll pass.”

  “There, she’s fine,” Skylar says.

  Just then her communicator beeps. She whips it out quick as lightning and then proceeds to enlighten Harlan and me on Aiden’s latest exploits on his mission. She knows very well how I feel about Aiden, made all the worse by his renewed friendship with her. I’m just happy at the moment for Aiden to be away, because I don’t know what I’ll do to him if we’re in the same room together.

  Skylar goes on and on until I can’t take it anymore and pretend I’ve got a headache. Harlan insists on dropping me back at my room, but when we get there, two figures are blocking the door. One is the Chief Warden, and the other is a guard wearing the green and red uniform of the Citadel’s industrial sector. The guard has his back to us, but as we approach, he turns slowly, never breaking from his attentive stance. There’s something eerily familiar about him that I can’t place, and it makes me nervous. Not least because the Chief Warden has a smirk on her lips.

  “How is he?” she says to the man.

  “Surprisingly stubborn for one so young,” the man says. His voice is shockingly familiar. “I’ll get it out of him, though.” I know then that they’re talking about a Wanderer prisoner they managed to capture the night I blew up the Forgotten Garden. That the prisoner is young and male means it’s neither Yuri nor Ace, which is a relief. When I checked, the seeds I hid in my dressing room were gone, which fills me with hope that Yuri was able to get to them.

  As the guard’s features come into view, my limbs feel as though they are filled with lead. Jonah Brax. The man who shot my mother. />
  Everything about him screams military through and through, from his strong, clean-cut features to his well-muscled physique. Since we last met, someone must have broken his nose, and it hasn’t healed properly. An untidy crescent scar tears into his bottom lip.

  “Miss Gray, I’m sure you remember Captain Brax,” the Chief Warden says. “Since Captain Forrester is no longer available, Jonah will step in as your minder.”

  Jonah holds his hand out, and I find myself gripping his palm very tightly. Far from being afraid, I am suddenly excited. “Captain Brax,” I say. “I’m so pleased to see you again. Let’s hope our time together is as exciting as it was when last we met.” If not, I will make it exciting.

  Sheila’s smile dims slightly. I should be intimidated, but I find myself amused. She’s delivered the man who killed my mother straight to me, and this time I’m not letting him go without a fight.

  The Seeders have poisoned this land with their greed and thirst for control. I know now though that they aren’t all powerful. If the land itself can fight back and heal itself, then so can I. The Seeders believe me to be their Wind Dancer, their saviour, but if I can help it, I will also be their undoing. I will be the poison that destroys them once and for all.

  AFTERWORD

  Thank you for purchasing this ebook. If you enjoyed it, please leave a review at your favourite online retailer.

  CONNECT WITH ME

  Website: http://www.thewriteobsession.blogspot.com.au

  Twitter: @WriteObsession

  JOIN MY NEWSLETTER

  To be the first to hear about my new books, sign up to my New Release mailing list

  Acknowledgements

  When I first started writing Poison I was under the naïve illusion that writing is a solitary activity. Now I know that behind every writer is a pit crew of under recognised friends and family keeping them sane. In light of this, there are a few special acknowledgements I would like to make.

  To Ana-Maria Ardelean, who talked me off a ledge almost every day for the three years it took to write this novel. I am forever grateful for your patience and encouragement.

  To my husband Matthew, thank you for never begrudging the amount of time I spend with the characters in my head.

  To Cathy Keaton and Camille Picott, thank you for bearing with my constant rewrites. Poison wouldn’t be what it is today without your constructive guidance.

  To David Sweeting, Sian Wadelton and Heng Chan, for taking a rough draft and helping me polish it into something remotely readable.

  To Ashley, Sherre, Liza and Mimi. Without you some of my characters would be nameless.

  To Andrea, thank you for picking up my mistakes.

  To all those who read Poison in its many forms, thank you for your honest feedback.

  And finally, to everyone who reads, reviews and spreads the word about Poison. Your support and enthusiasm mean the world to me.

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-Three

  Afterword

  Acknowledgements