The Disappearance of Ember Crow (32 page)

I slunk into the hall, sneaking up behind her. I was weak, but I wouldn’t have to wound her that badly. All I had to do was hurt her enough to distract her, and allow Connor to get in a good shot. One step. Two. Three … I lunged.

I was quick and I was quiet. But she was alert and faster than me. She spun, sending a bolt arcing in my direction. A chair flew in front of my body. It wasn’t enough to shield me. Some of the electricity came sizzling through, striking my right side. The blast seemed to set my wounded arm on fire all over again, and it was agony. I screamed and staggered, the sword falling from my hand as I collapsed onto the ground.

Everything went dark. Then the world blinked back into being.

Impossibly, I was on the grasslands.
No, I’m not
. I was inside my own head. I had to be, because I’d been in the hall a second ago.
Unless I’m dead?
No, surely Grandpa would be here to meet me if I was. Besides, I knew I’d go to the Firstwood when I died, not the grasslands. So what was happening?

“Woof!”

I spun to find a familiar black labrador behind me. “
Nicky?
Are you responsible for this?”

He wagged his tail, seeming very pleased with himself. “Nicky, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I can’t be here right now. Send me back!”

Nicky bent to nose at something in the grass, rolling it onto my foot. I picked it up. A flask? He pranced, his black body quivering with excitement as if he’d given me the best present ever. I took a cautious sniff of the contents and recognised the faint citrus scent. This was the herb I used when I wanted to fall asleep and Sleepwalk.

I sighed in exasperation. “I don’t know what you think you’re up to, but this isn’t helpful right–”

I stopped as a mad, wonderful idea burst upon me. Nicky could link directly into my mind. He’d proved that many times over. And – at least according to Em – the connections which made abilities work were all in the brain.

“Nicky,” I breathed, “can you help me Sleepwalk? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Because I’m in terrible trouble!”

“Woof!”

Call me crazy, but that sounds like “yes”
. I eyed the flask. Did it represent Sleepwalking, in this world of my mind?
One way to find out
. I tipped back my head and drained the contents.

There was a blinding flash.

And when I could see again, I was in a different place.

I was sprawled on the floor of a cave, one filled with dozens of different forest creatures – birds, treecats, lizards, frogs. A hissing electric storm hovered above them. There was something wrong with that storm, a twisting at its heart that made it vicious and mean. It wanted to eat the animals, to rip their little bodies to shreds, but a mighty winged being was standing in its way.
My friend
. And everywhere, numbers were falling through the air.

15, 14, 13
…

I was dreaming. I knew it with utter certainty. And the numbers mattered. They were …
a countdown
.

They were telling me how long I had to act.

Lightning crackled towards me, and a tree branch flew in the way, taking the hit. The storm sent out more spiteful blasts, this time at the helpless animals. My friend raised his hands and other branches whirled, blocking the bolts.

12, 11, 10
…

I lurched to my feet.
I have to stop the storm!
I called up vines, magic vines that hurtled upwards from the ground and into the storm. They seized its heart, drawing its energy downwards into the earth.

The storm fought back, sending a thousand bolts sizzling in my direction. Branches flew to shield me. A single bolt got through, striking my leg, and I stumbled to one knee.
This isn’t right!
I should be invincible in my own dream. Only I wasn’t. Something was wrong with me. I’d been wounded, weakened. And the countdown was continuing.

9, 8, 7
…

The vines were slipping from the storm.
No!
I tried desperately to make them stronger, only I had no strength in me. Then, out of nowhere, an enormous possum scurried to my side. She gathered my battered body into the shelter of her furry arms, and healing energy flowed into me. I called up more vines, and more, entangling the storm in shining green strands.

6, 5, 4
…

The storm shrieked its rage, and I shrieked right back, pouring all my will into keeping it contained. It was trapped, but it was taking everything I had simply to hold it. I could not defeat it, not alone.

Only I wasn’t alone.

My winged friend grabbed something from the floor of the cave, a strange warped spear. He threw the spear into the storm, and it collapsed in on itself, the hissing energy sputtering out.

3, 2, 1
.

Everything changed again.

I was in a room. A big room, filled with gradually settling dust, and no animals at all. Just people hiding behind bits of furniture. Connor was standing to my left, and there was a girl on the ground in front of us. She had a sword through her leg, and a couple of enforcers were holding her down as she tried to pull it out. “I have to serve!” she sobbed. “I
need
to serve!”

Dizziness swept over me, and I staggered. Someone caught my shoulders from behind, helping me to keep my balance. The possum.
No, not a possum
. Wentworth. Except the doctor was staggering herself, and shaking even worse than I was. I shoved her in the direction of a nearby chair, stumbling a little as I went.

Connor sprinted to my side, grabbing hold of another chair and setting it next to Wentworth’s. He pushed me into it. “Ashala. Breathe.”

I did, leaning over to rest my arms on my knees.

“Doc,” I whispered. “Daniel?”

“He’s fine. He’ll live.”

She cast a quick, curious glance at Connor, and I realised she’d recognised him from when she worked here. I shook my head at her and she nodded; she understood not to let on to anyone that he’d once been an enforcer in this place.

I focused on breathing. Surprisingly, other than the usual Sleepwalking-induced nausea, I didn’t feel so bad. My head wasn’t hurting and nor was my arm. I glanced down to find it covered in a network of scars, as if I’d been burned long ago.

“Sorry,” Wentworth whispered. “Didn’t have enough power left to heal it completely.”

I opened my mouth to tell her I didn’t mind one bit, only before I could speak a shout cut through the air. “Arrest those Illegals!”

A black-bearded administrator was striding out of the dust, pointing in my direction. Wentworth made an indignant protest, and Connor put himself between me and the rest of the room. I struggled to my feet, ready for a fight as enforcers began to advance towards us.

Someone called out, “Stop!”

Everyone froze, heads turning in the direction of that distinctive, powerful voice. Prime Belle Willis was rising to her feet from where she’d been crouching behind a table, throwing off the staff who’d been trying to keep her sheltered and safe. She was exactly as I remembered – stout, with blond hair, and an ordinary sort of face. It was her voice and her sheer presence that held people’s attention.

Willis gestured to the Electrifier, who was still being held down by enforcers. The girl had gone quiet now, and was gazing into space with empty, defeated eyes. “Someone find a collar for that girl,” Willis ordered. “But,” she added, with a stern glance at the bearded man, “leave the Illegals who saved our lives alone.”

Prime Willis to the rescue
. I watched as she motioned people over, issuing crisp instructions. In no time at all, there were enforcers guarding the room and Menders circulating among the wounded. Willis looked at Connor. “Should we expect another attack? What happened to the other one, the Firestarter?”

“He’s dead,” I answered. “And there won’t be any more attacks. There was only one more of them, and … well, I’m afraid he got away. Along with Neville Rose. The Illegal, um, rescued him.”

There were gasps and murmurs from the crowd.

“What about Grey?” Willis demanded.

“She’s dead too. Rose killed her.”

The bearded man snorted disbelievingly. “Why would he do that?”

“I saw it with my own eyes, Lewis,” Wentworth put in. “I suspect Grey had become more of a liability to Rose than an asset. And I’ll tell you something else. Illegals might have been the weapon of this attack, but they weren’t the masterminds. This was organised by former Prime Talbot as part of a plot to derail the reform movement. I overheard one of them say so.”

With an effort, I kept my expression neutral. Wentworth had overheard no such thing. I’d been the one who told her the Illegals were from Talbot, and what he was trying to do.
She’s a good friend to have
.

And an excellent liar.

An administrator piped up, “That’s impossible. Talbot died of a stroke.”

“People say he’s coming back,” someone else called out. “That he faked his death.”

And a third, bewildered voice, “But Talbot hates Illegals!”

There was a sudden hubbub of chatter. Willis held up her hand, and everyone fell quiet. “I’ve heard the rumours about his return,” she said. “And I doubt he’s above using Illegals to further his own aims. Rose was once planning something similar. In fact, it explains why they came for Rose – he was one of Talbot’s biggest supporters. Jeremy was investigating the rumours …” Her voice trailed off, and she glanced around the room. “Where is Jeremy?”

Of course. She doesn’t know yet
. “Prime Willis?” I knew only too well that there was no way to make news like this any better. I tried to deliver the blow as fast as I could. “He was killed saving me from the Firestarter.”

There was a hushed silence. Willis stood very still, her expression rigid. Lewis scowled at me. “I’d like to know how you got into this place. And who are you? One of the Tribe?”

I considered lying, and decided against it. People would assume the Tribe was involved in today’s events anyway, given how close we were to the Firstwood. And I wanted to make sure they associated the Tribe with the Illegals who’d helped them rather than the ones who’d attacked. “I am Ashala Wolf.”

Everyone seemed to breathe in at once.

“You’re the leader!” Lewis sputtered. “How do we know that your Tribe isn’t part of this?”

“We saved you,” Connor snapped.

“Lewis.” It was Willis who spoke. Whatever she was feeling about Duoro, she’d put it aside; she looked and sounded capable and in control. “The reason they are here is because Jeremy asked them to come.”

I ducked my head, letting my hair fall over my face to hide my surprise.

“He heard whispers of a possible attack,” Willis continued. “Nothing concrete, but enough to make him concerned. He thought the Tribe might be needed to defend us against other people with abilities. Obviously, he was right.”

I’d forgotten how quick she was on her feet. It was a good story. No, it was a
great
story. And she’d just cemented our position as saviours. Allies of the government, not its destroyers.
Thank you, Belle Willis
.

I looked up at her, only to find that
everyone
was looking at me, and in a disturbingly expectant kind of way. As if they were waiting for me to say something, like I was supposed to make some sort of speech. I wasn’t any good at speeches, that was something politicians did.

Politicians, and leaders of the reform movement, like Jeremy Duoro.

Suddenly there were words in my head. Because even though Duoro hadn’t really asked for our help, I knew what he would have said if he had.

I cleared my throat and said, “I came here today because Jeremy Duoro … he told me the world was changing.” I glanced around, trying to address the whole room, the way I thought he would have done. “He said that there was going to be a fight, and it was the only fight that was going to matter any more, except it wasn’t between Citizens and Illegals. It was a fight between the people who want to stop the hating, and the ones who don’t.” I glanced at Willis, checking to make sure she was happy with what I was saying. She gave me a tiny nod, and, reassured, I went on. “Jeremy said whatever side you were on in this fight was more important than whether or not you had an ability. Neville Rose, and Terence Talbot, and the Illegals who attacked everyone today – they’re on the side of hate. But that wasn’t Jeremy’s side. And it’s not mine either.”

That was the end of the words I had, the words I imagined he would have spoken. I added some of my own, only for Willis and straight from my heart, “I’m so sorry he’s gone! I would have saved him if I could.”

“I think,” she said gently, “that you and your Tribe have saved more than enough lives here today, Ashala Wolf. Including my own.”

She walked over to me, and extended her hand. I clasped it in mine, and did what Jeremy Duoro would have done. I played to the audience.

“It was an honour, Prime Willis.”

Someone began to clap. Then another person, and another, until the entire hall echoed with the sound of applause. I wasn’t sure what it was for, and I don’t think they knew either. It probably didn’t matter. Under the cover of the noise, I whispered to her, “He took a bad injury, but he died peacefully, and he wasn’t alone. And he looked so happy and hopeful at the end.”

Her lip quivered. “He always did have enough hope for the whole world.” For a second, her composure slipped, and I glimpsed the raw, howling grief that she was keeping locked inside. “We will not let his death be in vain, Ashala.”

I met her gaze squarely, letting her see that my resolve was as fierce as her own, and made a promise to the Gull City Prime. “No. We won’t.”

Ten days after the events at the centre, we were having a party.

Georgie was organising it, and she’d banned me from helping; she wanted to manage everything herself. It was nice to see her happy about something, because she’d been hovering anxiously over Daniel ever since we returned to the Firstwood. His near death was a future she hadn’t glimpsed, and it had shaken her.

I’d left her to her preparations and gone out to sit by the lake in the fading light of the day. I could hear the eerie wailing of saur songs in the distance; the lizards were having a celebration of their own, and had been for almost a week, rejoicing in their victory over the “burner-of-grass”.