Angel Arias (11 page)

‘That’s their fault for running away.’ There was a tinge of bitterness to her words.

‘There are guardians on Ixion called Ripers. Have you heard of them?’ asked Naif.

Emilia shrugged but Jarrold nodded energetically. ‘It talks about them in the confetti.’

‘I told you not to read that,’ snapped Emilia.

‘The Ripers watch over the Ixion runaways and enforce their rules. But we’ve learned that they’re not what they seem to be. They have been seen here on Grave, talking to the Elders.’

‘Here?’ Emilia was so startled that Naif wondered if she’d been lying about not knowing of the Ripers.

‘Markes thought that you might know something of this. He said that your father was an Elder and that he sometimes told you things.’

‘Em?’ Jarrold’s tone was full of expectation.

‘I – I – don’t know anything.’

‘Is there a way – could you find out?’

Emilia shook her head but Jarrold took her hand and tugged it.

‘Go on, Em. You can get anything out of Father. Find out where that special meeting is.’

‘A special meeting?’ Naif felt a little surge of energy.

‘You talk too much, little brother.’

‘Emilia, please. Terrible things are happening on Ixion. Young people like you are fitted with badges which shorten their lives,’ said Naif.

‘Shorten?’

Naif nodded solemnly and showed them her palm. The badge was as black as a deep bruise.

Emilia pulled free from Jarrold’s clasp and stared at Naif.

‘I know your face,’ she said. ‘You’re the Seal who ran away, aren’t you? The one who escaped wearing the obedience strip. I saw your face on the bulletins.’

Naif didn’t like where this was going but Jarrold chimed in and cut Emilia short.

‘That was
you
? Everyone talked about that for weeks. The wardens rounded up your family and anyone who knew you. Took them to the Holding House and questioned them. A girl died from it. They said she had a weak heart or something; that her own guilt caused her death. But I think they tortured her.’

‘What girl?’

‘Can’t remember her name. Jool or Torta or something.’

‘Toola? Toola Raspart?’

‘Yes,’ said Emilia. ‘I know the name now that you say it.’

Toola!

A wave of darkness threatened to overcome Naif. Toola had died because of her. Like Krista-belle on Ixion. Like Mesree. She wanted to curl into a ball and howl. But she couldn’t. Not if she were to finish this. Not if she were to help those still living. Instead, she curled her fingernails into her palms until they hurt and forced herself to stay calm.

‘You know her?’ asked Jarrold.

‘I . . . yes . . .’

‘They made an example of you,’ he continued excitedly before she had to explain. ‘Made sure the whole of Grave knew about it.’

Naif didn’t want to be known – least of all in Grave. ‘What is this meeting between the Elders?’

Emilia stared at her. ‘It’s meant to be a secret. And I still don’t see why I should tell you.’

Naif wondered if the girl’s hostile reaction was caused by resentment. Markes had left her behind to go to Ixion. She was still angry with him.

‘Don’t be such a frossing cow, Em,’ said Jarrold baldly. ‘You were mad for Markes until he left. Would’ve done anything he asked.’

His sister flushed and shifted her gaze to the empty fireplace. ‘What would you know?’

‘I saw you go with him unchaperoned into the shop. You never did that with the others.’

She swung around sharply, her hand raised as if she might slap him. ‘You little monster . . .’ Then just as suddenly, she dropped her hand and burst into tears. ‘We were trothed. When you’re trothed, it’s different.’

‘Father would have minded,’ said Jarrold unrelentingly. ‘Help her, Em, or I’ll tell Father I saw you alone with him. The wardens will question you. They were bad enough when he left, poking around here.’

Emilia dashed her hand across her face to wipe the tears away. ‘You’d help her and
blad
on me?’

‘You’re so scared of everything. Why can’t you ever stand up for yourself? You let Father –’

‘Jarrold!’ Emilia’s low, distraught cry stopped him, his own face flushing to match hers.

The anger between them made Naif want to leave. But she couldn’t – wouldn’t – until she found out what she needed to know, so she sat there feeling sick and uncomfortable, reminding herself that brothers and sisters were like that sometimes.

Joel and she used to have arguments. At least, Joel would argue and she would sit there mute, just as she did now. That was something she regretted; not speaking her thoughts more.

So she forced herself to speak up. ‘Jarrold, be respectful of your sister. It’s harder for girls in Grave. Boys can do things and not be chastised. Even Seal boys.’

The pair stopped glaring at each other and looked at her with surprise.

‘You have a brother?’ asked Emilia.

Naif nodded. ‘I have a brother who was braver than me, always disagreeing with our father. Father beat him for it.’

‘Is it true that Seal girls can’t speak to others?’

‘Yes. I mean . . . we are only allowed to speak to a few. Our parents, brothers, sisters and sometimes a single friend.’

‘No wonder you ran away. I would too,’ said Jarrold.

‘Hush,’ said Emilia. ‘Don’t even think such a thing.’

‘See, there you go –’

Naif stood up. ‘
Please.
People I know are in danger. Can you help me?’

The pair stopped and looked at her again.

Reluctantly, Emilia nodded. ‘Very well. I’ll ask Father about the meeting tonight.’

‘What about Markes. Where will the wardens take him?’ Naif persisted.

‘He’ll be in the Holding House. It’s where they took Janna Shay after he burned the little cathedral. It’s on the other side of Deope,’ said Emilia. ‘But you’ll never get there without someone recognising you.’

Jarrold leapt to his feet. ‘I know a hidden way. I can show her.’

‘No. Now, shhhh! Father will be here soon,’ said Emilia. ‘I go to the markets early tomorrow with Mama. The Holding House is close by. I can slip away and pretend I’m lost. See if he is there.’

‘Mother won’t let you go off alone. Let me take Naif during mid-morning prayers. Everyone is inside then. We’ll go through Deope.’

‘Deope isn’t safe,’ Emilia said automatically.

‘Course it is,’ said her brother. ‘Gurney and I went through it last spring.’

‘What’s Deope?’ asked Naif. She knew so little about her own city; it frustrated her.

Jarrold raised his eyebrows. ‘You’ve never heard of Deope?’

When Naif shook her head, he went on. ‘The Grand Elders built Grave on the ruins of an old city. Most of the old city had been destroyed except some walls and such and a bridge.’

‘Where is the bridge?’

‘Underneath some of our houses.’

‘A bridge,
under
the ground?’ Naif asked.

‘Like I said, we built our city on top of it. I mean, it’s ancient. So much dirt and rock had built up that it looked like flat land. Wasn’t ’til things started collapsing in a particular place that they realised what was underneath. The bridge runs from the north water tower just near here to West Grave.’

‘We learned about it at school. Didn’t you?’ chimed in Emilia. ‘The bridge has two levels and runs over a deep underground river. That’s why our wells are so plentiful with water.’

Now that they were sharing their knowledge they seemed easier with each other.

‘When the land subsided and the giant holes began to appear, the Elders didn’t know how to fix it. And it’s too dangerous to excavate, so instead they made all the people leave their houses,’ added Jarrold. ‘That area is called Deope.’

Naif tried to blink away her tiredness. Weariness had fallen upon her like a heavy blanket. ‘So there’re a lot of houses, as long as an old bridge, which are deserted?’

‘No one goes there anymore,’ said Jarrold.

Naif stared at him, trying to imagine such a thing.

‘When Gurney and I went through, we saw things, and heard funny noises. And the smell!’ Jarrold added.

‘You went all the way through?’ asked his sister suspiciously. ‘From the water tower to the Holding House?’

Jarrold nodded. ‘Yes.’

Emilia shook her head disapprovingly. ‘Stop telling lies.’

‘It’s not a lie,’ said Jarrold with heat. ‘I went down there and I saw things.’

Before they could argue any more the clock on Emilia’s narrow mantelpiece chimed.

Both of them leapt as if stung.

‘Em?’ whispered Jarrold.

‘Go with Jarrold,’ Emilia instructed Naif.

Her whole expression changed to one of apprehension and she went to sit at her desk, her hands nervously smoothing her nightgown.

Jarrold tugged at Naif’s arm. ‘Quick.’

She followed him across the corridor into his room. He opened up the coal hutch and motioned to her to climb inside. Unlike the one in Emilia’s room which they’d said was empty, this one had a rug and a pillow in there.

‘I hide here sometimes. To get out of chores. Now get in and keep quiet. Father will come to my room first but he won’t stay long with
me
.’

As Naif tucked herself into the tiny square of space, she wondered if she’d really heard him emphasise the word ‘me’, or if tiredness was playing tricks on her hearing.

He shut the door and moved around the room, falling silent a few seconds before his father walked in. She heard heavy footsteps and the harsh voice. It reminded Naif so much of her own father that her throat grew tight.

The wall muffled their conversation but it sounded like they were saying prayers together. After a brief good-night the bedroom door closed again.

A while passed before Jarrold opened the coal hutch. Lamplight flooded in to the small space, making her blink.

He put his fingers to his lips and got down on his knees so he could whisper in her ear. ‘Father is with Emilia so you must stay quiet. Sleep now and I’ll wake you up in the morning.’ He pushed another pillow into her hands and a greasy string of liquorice.

‘Jarrold, I need to use the bathroom,’ Naif whispered back.

He frowned. ‘Fross! It’s downstairs.’

‘I’m sorry. I’ve been walking all day. Do you have a bed pot?’ Naif’s face warmed with embarrassment at having to ask but she couldn’t ignore her need any longer.

‘Mother doesn’t like pots. Says they breed sickness.’ He bit his lip and glanced at the door. ‘We can get past Father, but Mother will be downstairs in the kitchen. I’ll talk to her while you . . . you know.’

Naif flushed even deeper. ‘Will that work?’

He nodded and gave a fleeting grin. ‘Oh, yes. Mother finds me very distracting.’

Naif got up out of the hutch.

Jarrold took a dressing gown off the hook behind the door and handed it to her. ‘Emilia and I have the same gown. Fold the collar up around your neck. You could look like Em, a bit. I’ll go into the kitchen and get some food then pretend to go to the bathroom on the way back.’

‘Where is it?’

‘Turn left at the bottom of the stairs. The kitchen is on the right.’

‘Thank you. And . . . thank you.’

He nodded and paused, clearly wanting to say something more. ‘Markes and I were like . . . I mean . . . he’d have been a good brother. You know?’

Naif nodded. She did know what it was like to have a brother you loved. And she wished he was here with her now.

Jarrold blinked the sheen of moisture from his eyes and his adventurous grin returned. ‘Step when I step so it sounds like one person. I’ll go slowly.’

As they crept onto the landing and down the stairs, Emilia’s door remained closed.

Naif concentrated on putting her feet down at the same time as Jarrold’s and cringed every time the floorboards creaked.

They made it to the foot of the stairs without discovery and Jarrold pointed to a heavy, louvred door on the left. Naif tiptoed down the corridor towards it while Jarrold proceeded down the other side of the corridor to the kitchen.

She shut the door and relieved herself quickly. Her stomach immediately stopped aching and she rinsed her hands in the basin and then tipped the water into the waste pipe. Doing that reminded her of the effluent smell in the Grave alleys. She fought her gag reflex and cracked open the door to watch for Jarrold.

Before long he came down her side of the corridor. She fell in behind him as he climbed the stairs.

As they reached the landing, Emilia’s door handle turned. Jarrold shoved Naif through his open doorway and turned around to block it with the width of his chunky body.