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Fenlon himself hauls Zoya free from the floorless navigator's seat. His way of congratulating her on surviving is to slap her on the back so hard she stumbles and would fall if Yeldon weren't there to catch her in a pretty hearty hug.
I start shaking. Delayed reaction, I guess. Someone hands me a towel. It's soon black with the Slick I've scrubbed from my face and hands.
I've long since scrubbed Steen from my lips. Reef's not so easy to slough off. He's busy with some Scrutiner business the day of the near-disastrous air-duel over Sea-Ways. Increasingly we get glitches with Aura connections a" the Mora.s.s effect? a" but he still finds time to message me.
rain, how are you today?
rain, i miss you rain, are you avoiding me?
Avoiding him? Absolutely.
Other people are counting the days a" not many now a" till the Eclipse. I'm counting off each day I don't have to face Reef. Everything's so crazy I get away with it for ages until, trudging down a school corridor after another night in the sky, I quite literally b.u.mp into him.
*Rain! Finally! I've been looking for you.'
What have I done now?
*Here, come into this cla.s.sroom. We need to talk.' He shuts the door behind us. *I've just been sending updates to Aura. People in Corona are really sitting up and taking notice of the squadron. They're so impressed with the Storms' successes defending Sea-Ways that they're going to include one of the planes in the big Festival of Light parade in the capital. Guess what else the updates said . . . ?'
Bang bang bang a" my heartbeat is loud but my voice is small. *I'm in trouble because Steen escaped?'
*Forget Steen. With any luck he'll have been killed or injured trying to get back to his own lines, or he'll fall in some forest rift and get eaten by trees. I'm glad he's gone a" I was sick of babysitting him. These updates were about you.'
*Am I in trouble about something else?'
Reef laughs. *Relax! Trust me, all the reports were positive. Why wouldn't they be? You're an amazing pilot, a good team-player and a loyal citizen. Obviously there were observations I withheld from the reports . . .' I cringe. Here it comes a" the denunciation. *. . . like how your eyes light up when you smile a" which you don't do half often enough. How you twirl that bit of hair over your ear when you're thinking. How you stretch when you get out of your Storm, as if you're bridging the gap between sky and ground.'
How does he do that? Make my heart stop beating by saying something so sincere?
He looks straight into my eyes and I feel silvery threads drawing us close. I wish I could trust him. Wish I could waft off to the forest with him to sink into summer among the trees, with dawn cobwebs, heavy flowers, fat green leaves and the s.h.i.+ver of lace-wing insects . . .
He pulls me closer. I feel all his body along the length of mine. I put my hands on his chest as if to push him away, even though I'd far rather trust the instinct to let him wind himself around me, like two thorn-vine shoots twisting together.
*You can't do this . . .' I whisper.
*I know.' His voice is hoa.r.s.e.
*You're a Scrutiner . . .'
*Do you think I ever forget it?' His eyes darken. *I sacrificed a lot to do this job. I've always done the right thing, even when . . . even when the right thing seemed horribly wrong.'
He won't look at me now.
*Your parents?' I ask quietly.
*You know?'
*A bit. Not the whole story.'
He straightens up and smooths his uniform. Now his voice his hard. *I only did what was right. They were Lim-born. They believed in witches a" wors.h.i.+pped them even. They went out in the woods for days and nights, dancing, drinking, whatever people do in the forest, leaving me alone with only Aura to keep me company. They'd bring back branches full of leaves to put in the house, garlands of blossom and fans of corvil feathers. They sang songs of . . . I don't want to remember. Then one day Aura asked where they'd gone. I told the truth. I never saw my parents again.'
*Do you feel guilty?'
*What do you think? How can I not!' He folds his arms around his body and stares at an invisible spot on the wall. *But I was only a kid, doing what everyone said was my duty. They praised me for it. Took me away for training. Taught me how to spot signs of superst.i.tious thinking. Aura's laboratories were my home. I told you already I knew your Uncle Mentira. It was his idea to send me to the Mora.s.s as part of the normalisation team. He said it would do me good to control the place that had made my parents so wild . . .'
*And did it?' I can't forget the way he so casually shot the wolf watching me on the edge of the forest rift . . . or how he couldn't bring himself to kill the wolf prowling around the Biopolis airbase.
He shakes his head. *Yes . . . and no. It grows on you, the forest. Literally, these days.' He stops to pull up a small seedling that's dared to root in the wall of the cla.s.sroom and twirls it between his fingers. *Sorry, this must all sound pretty bad to you. I just wanted to explain, and there hasn't been a chance.'
I like his honesty . . . if that's what it is. His eyes search mine now, looking for acceptance, or accusation, or something else only Scrutiners know about . . .
I can't look away.
*Thank you for listening,' he murmurs. *It's a tough secret to keep.'
*I won't tell anyone.'
*I know. And I want you to know you can talk to me in confidence any time you need.'
*Because you're a Scrutiner?'
*Because I want us to be friends, Rain. More than friends, whether that's right or wrong.'
*But you always do what's right. Like at the bridge a" you followed Aura's orders to save the Slick when you wanted to save the evacuees.'
Reef stares at me. *You don't pull your punches, do you? Just between us, maybe I was wrong at the bridge. My motto has long been don't step off the path, but here I am starting to think that sometimes you have to get lost to find yourself. Like now.'
He leans in and dips his head to do a wonderful, terrible thing.
He kisses me.
How sweet it is, oh G.o.d, how utterly wanted his lips are. This is so different from the clinch with Steen, as different as light from dark. I could drink kisses like this for ever and still not have enough. I love it. I love him.
And every moment of the kiss adds to a private agony as I get a clearer, stronger vision of his death.
His breath quickens. His arms tighten. I'm trembling a"no, shaking a" no, shattering to pieces in my desperation to get away. I tear myself from him, feeling every rip in the intimacy as a physical pain.
*Rain . . . ? What's the matter? What did I do?'
I'm choked. Can't speak. Can't find the words to describe the horrific inner sight of a hand slicing a cold blade right across Reef's warm throat.
I'm already backed to the far end of the corridor when I hear Cousin Zoya asking Reef, *Was that Pip? I need to speak to her. Where's she going?'
*Let me go,' I tell Reef. *Leave me alone!'
That goes for Zoya too. Whatever she's got to say it'll have to wait. She's been hovering at my shoulder for a couple of days now, looking like she's about to speak, then saying, *Nope, nothing's up.'
Where to run to now? Where to hide? The canteen is buzzing with people, though it doesn't stink of herbs and Haze as usual. The hangar is full of tired techs patching up Storms. In the crew-room there's no peace either. Since no one wants to think about the upcoming Eclipse, it's all talk of the siege, of supplies running low, of what we'll do if the worst happens and the Crux break through.
*We'll keep fighting in the streets,' Lida is saying. *We'll make them pay for every city block they steal from us. We'll die rather than surrender or convert to their yash religion.'
Dee says, *I don't want to die.'
*Hey, Rain, what's up? Are you OK? You look a bit sick . . .' Mossie waves at me as I hover in the doorway.
I am sick. Sick of bombs, of blood, of war a" all of it. Why won't someone make it all go away? I want my mama. I want to go home.
I dodge out of the school, split across the edge of the sports field runway and start sprinting through Sea-Way's streets. I need no ac-reqs from Aura to find my route, even through road-blocks and refugees.
I'm vaguely aware of people around me. Some are lined up at ration centres to get their daily dose of food packets. Some are hurrying to work in shabby uniforms. Some are stringing up party lamps. These will be for the Festival of Light that's planned to cheer the final day a" is it only one more day? a" before the Eclipse begins. They'll keep s.h.i.+ning all through the Long Night so no one has to be afraid of the dark . . . Or will Aura give orders for total blackout?
Slick-licked plant-life is being pulled from cracks in roads and walls, then loaded on to barrows to be burned in one of the many bonfires along the banks of River Seaward. There are other fires . . . for cremating bodies.
Here's the park, now a tent city for homeless foodlanders. Here's my street, complete with signs and arrows for the new underground bomb shelter. Here I am, at the entrance to People's Number 2032 Housing Block . . . at the top of ten flights of stairs, at the door to my apartment . . . standing in the doorway with eyes wide and mouth open.
Mama's home. She's not yet left for her s.h.i.+ft at Glissom's. There she is, next to a plate of half-eaten breakfast. She's got her arms round a black-haired girl and both of them are crying.
*Haze?' The name sticks in my throat. *Mama?'
This is the scene I saw in the bath-house basin of water. This is Haze's fortune.
*Rain? I didn't know you'd be here . . .' Mama loosens her hold on Haze and rubs tears from her eyes. *Don't look like that! Come in, shut the door, sit down, quick. It's a shock, I know.'
The lights are so bright! What is Haze doing in my home? What is she doing anywhere in my world? I wish I could slam her so hard against the wall it dents.
Haze moves so the table is between us. Her eyes are darting everywhere, looking for a way of escape. Stupid lump, she starts to cry again.
*Don't hurt me,' she gulps. *It's not my fault. I just wanted to get away from the forest and find my mama. I just want everything that's mine.'
*I don't understand.'
Were three words ever so completely inadequate to sum up my confusion?
*Oh, Rain . . .' Mama looks sad for me, but she doesn't come any closer to give me a hug. Then she frowns. *Is that really your name?'
*It's my name,' Haze tells me, *but I don't want it back; you can keep it. Keep your friends and your clothes and your flying. I just want my family. My life.'
I find my voice again. *Whatever she's told you, it's lies, Mama. She's been making trouble for me ever since we met. She's mean, she's crazy.'
*And she's an impostor,' whines Haze.
Mama shakes her head. *I never thought . . . I mean, we did wonder, your papi and I, but we never said anything. It was just a feeling, you know, when you sense something's wrong for no obvious reason. My baby was missing, and then you were found. Why wouldn't I think it was you?' She turns to Haze. *I'm so, so sorry. I should've known there'd been a mistake. But she looked like my baby a" how could she not be real?'
*I am real!' I shout. *Mama, I'm standing right here in front of you! Look at me a" it's me. Rain. Your daughter!'
*What's all the racket?' comes a familiar voice from the doorway. Right on cue, Pedla Rue, scuttling across the hallway to stick her nose in. She's got a can with a long spout that drips Slick, perfect for squirting into nooks where plant-life nestles. *Well now, look who's home . . . Rain!'
*See a" Pedla, you know me, don't you? Tell her! Tell Mama who I am.'
Pedla stops short. She squints at me, then Haze.
*All right, I give up. What's going on?'
*There was a storm,' Mama whispers. *Last Long Night, all those years ago. We lost power and had to light candles. My baby wouldn't stop crying and crying. I was so cold, so tired . . . I only put her down for a moment, I swear. I went to the kitchen to make a hot drink. The candles blew out. I had to feel everything in the dark a" it was horrible! When I got back to the bedroom the window was open and the cot was empty; there was just my baby's blanket inside, all crumpled up. I didn't know what to do! This was before Aura and connecting. I screamed for your papi and we ran out into the village.'
*Sorrowdale,' I say in a dull voice.
*That's right a" how did you know that?'
I close my eyes and think back to that sombre morning walk in the ruins of Sorrowdale, now grown to town-size. Now destroyed by war. *I remember bits.'
*You couldn't remember the storm, you were too younga"'
*And it wasn't you,' interrupts Haze. *I was the baby that was stolen. People should've run to the G.o.d-house to ring bells as soon as the storm started. They should've known witches would come!'
Pedla hisses through her teeth. *Witches took you? I'm always telling people to watch out for witches! We just aren't protected any more. That's what comes of rooting up feybane bushes and taking down the G.o.d-house bells. Why doesn't anyone ever listen to me?'
Haze nods. *I learned the story from the old woman who slaved me. She said my mother ran to the G.o.d-house to ask where I was, but G.o.d was gone too, so my mother sat on the edge of G.o.d's garden where the dead are buried.'
*Then I found you again,' Mama sobs. *There you were on a bed of feathers. I took you home, Rain.'
So those visions back at Sorrowdale, and in the wreckage of the Biopolis, they weren't just hallucinations. They were memories of the time I was found. The day baby Haze was stolen.
Mama says, *I was so, so careful after that. I swore I'd never let anything else happen to my baby. I told you all the rules so you'd be good, so the witches wouldn't steal you again. Then Aura said none of the Old Nation stories were true, that there were no such things as witches. We came to Sea-Ways to start over. I honestly didn't know what had really happened that Long Night, until Haze came here today . . .' She breaks into full-blown weeping. *We loved you, truly we did, sweeting. We didn't know you weren't normal. You looked like my baby, you cried like my baby, but . . .'
I've had enough. *Shut up going on about it! It's all just insane! What if Scrutiners could hear you?'
Pedla sniffs the air as if suddenly smelling something rotten. *All this time I've been warning folk about monsters, never guessing there'd be one living right on my doorstep, as sly as you please.'
*Oh, don't call her a monster!' cries Mama. *She can't help what she is.'
*Don't call me anything!' I howl. *I'm your daughter, Mama. You know I am. There's no such thing as witches!'
Pedla puts down her can of Slick and fumbles in the pocket of her shabby cardigan. *You've always laughed at me for carrying these things around . . . Here, see how you like them ringing!'
I flinch as she thrusts a set of jangling bells in my face. *Stop it!'
Pedla shouts over the sound of the bells. *They don't grow children of their own, these witches. The stories all say they steal real babies and keep them as slaves, setting false things in their place.'
*That's what you are,' says Haze, pointing a shaky finger right at me. *You're the abomination. The witch sp.a.w.n. The changeling. It's you.'
Witch. A witch. A witch . . .
I can't get away quickly enough. The whispers follow me down all ten flights of stairs and into the street. The rumours grow, and a crowd grows too. Pedla must be messaging ahead to warn neighbours where I am. I walk, eyes down, thinking, Don't look at me don't look at me don't see me i'm not here . . .
Someone points.
*Is that her?'