Chapter 16
The attacker backhands Mum, sending her face-first to the ground. Her screaming stops.
‘Mum?’ I yell, terrified. What’s happening? One second, we’re outside Kingsland’s electric fence, welcoming my father home from his supply route. The next, I’m watching my parents get attacked by this man. A one-handed stranger.
He pulls a knife. ‘Now, give me your ring.’
‘Go away, Ryland,’ Mum calls, as I race closer. She pushes to her feet, face red. Tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘Get out of here. Run.’
With another scream, she throws herself at the man, scratching and clawing his face. My father grips his stomach. There’s blood everywhere. He falls.
‘Dad!’ I run to him. Except when I get there, it’s not him I find lying on the ground.
It’s Marian.
Her lifeless eyes stare up at me. Then her lips move as she speaks. ‘You’re talking in your sleep.’
I startle awake, sitting up. My hand sweeps behind me, grasping my knife.
The nightmare world disappears, along with my father’s face that I can no longer remember, and I struggle to make sense of what’s left.
Of … the boy leisurely slurping a drink from my canteen.
The sun’s up just enough to see Little John lying on his stomach, staring at me.
My tent is unzipped and wide open. How did I sleep through him doing that?
I scrub a hand through my hair, my heart still pumping as if I’ve been chased by a bear. ‘What are you doing in here?’
‘You were talking. But you were asleep.’
I grunt. ‘I gathered that.’
Unbothered, he glances around. ‘I’ve never slept in one of those cocoons before.’ He ticks his head at my sleeping sack. ‘Can I try that?’
‘Not while I’m in it.’ I reach for a T-shirt and slip it on, wincing at the stiffness from sleeping on the ground. ‘How long have you been here? Wait. What time is it?’ I try to look out of the unzipped door.
‘Do I look like I own a windup clock?’
The kid doesn’t look like he owns anything. He’s wearing shorts that are too big and a shirt that’s practically see-through. He never has shoes.
‘I meant, has everyone left for the mine yet?’ I had planned to get up early and talk to more of the men who fit my suspect profile. My time here is running out.
‘Oh, it’s too early for that.’
I relax a little and rub my eyes. ‘Does your mum know you’re here?’
‘Nope,’ he says, popping the P.
I raise a disapproving brow.
‘What?’ He shrugs his little shoulders. ‘She’s still sick, but maybe she’ll feel better soon now that she’s got medi–’ He cuts off, his eyes wide.
I tilt my head. ‘Medi … cine?’
He looks like he might start crying for letting that slip out. But then he nods his head.
I don’t know where they get medicine around here, but why is that a secret? ‘And if I needed medicine, the same kind your mum needed, where would I go to get it?’
His bottom lip pushes out, and I almost feel bad for asking. He drops his tone to a whisper. ‘The Saint of Shadows.’
I huff a laugh. Wait – he’s not joking.
The pieces fall into place. Is Marian the Saint of Shadows? Was that what she was doing last night? Stealing medicine?
‘He helps us.’
He?
‘You can’t tell anyone.’ Suddenly, Little John jumps up and runs out of the tent, taking my blasted canteen with him.
People are up and cooking over the coal fires in the shared common area.
A couple of them watch me with suspicion as I pass by.
Not that I blame them. My combat clothes and weapons make me look like a guardsman, and if I’ve learned anything here, it’s that a militia guard is not a friend of the Dresden.
I find my first person of interest drinking from a mug while sitting by a firepit.
‘Morning,’ I say, stretching my fingers out to warm them over the burning coals. ‘Mind if I join you?’ I nod at him. ‘I’m Ryland.’
‘Ji-ho,’ he says, then ticks his head to take a seat on the cut log beside him. It’s clear he’s missing a hand, and now that I’m close enough to see past the coal dust on his face, I realise he’s got brown eyes. Not my suspect.
The tension eases in my muscles. ‘Looks like it’s going to be a nice day.’
‘Yes,’ he mutters. ‘Not that we’ll get to enjoy it.’
‘How long are your shifts?’
‘Usually takes ten to twelve hours to hit my quota. More if you have other mouths to feed.’
An uneasiness clamps around my chest. It’s a feeling that’s been getting worse the more I learn how the Commander runs things around here.
Ji-ho and I continue to chat, and I’m surprised to learn they’ve started using the miner’s safety lamps. Equally shocking, he resents it.
‘Doesn’t let us see much, which slows our work. But I guess it’s important we live to work another day.’
I frown. I thought the miners would be happy to improve the dangerous conditions of the mine.
But that obviously only scratches the surface of their problems. In Kingsland, every able-bodied person has a job, and no one goes without food or help or medicine if they need it.
Here, what happens when they get old or sick? Do they just … die?
Eventually, Ji-ho leaves and I spot Rufus, the one-handed trader – the man Little John said was a snitch.
‘Excuse me,’ I call, jogging over as he heads towards the mine. Rufus is about my height, and just like everyone, he’s covered in coal dust. In his one hand, he’s carrying a jar of water.
He turns, and at seeing me, his blue eyes widen.
There’s a pulse of something inside me. Recognition? Or is it because he ticks all the right boxes – he’s white and I’d guess in his forties. The world melts away as I go on alert.
‘Do I look familiar to you?’ I ask. I’m not sure this is even about the attack. I study his overgrown blonde-and-grey hair. He’s got a look about him, like I should know him. But I can’t put my finger on it.
His mouth opens, then closes. His feet stop. ‘Yeah, actually. You look like … my brother.’
‘Your brother.’ Wasn’t expecting that.
‘He was a good-looking guy like you.’ He smiles too brightly. ‘So I hear you’re trying to get a deal for coal?’
A bit of an abrupt change of topic. ‘Trying,’ I say, studying his face.
He’s got some scars, which makes me think of my latest nightmare.
The events were the usual remix of the same things.
The scuffle. The screaming. The blood. But did Mum really scratch the face of our attacker?
Or am I making up new details while I sleep?
‘Where did you say you’re from?’ he asks.
‘I didn’t, and I can’t say. You understand, right?’
The smile is back. ‘Of course.’ Rufus leans in. ‘Listen, the Commander has the market cornered on coal, but I’ve got connections for other things. Supplies. Horses. If there’s something else you’re looking for, let me know.’
‘Well … I am considering a ring for my girl.’ I don’t expect the attacker to have Mum’s ring this many years later, but I am curious to see how he plays this. ‘You deal in that kind of thing?’
‘Yeah,’ he says, real eager. ‘I’ll do some digging and get back to you.’
Digging or stealing? ‘One last thing – I’ve been talking to people about the mine explosions. It seems like there’s been a lot of them. Is that where you got those scars on your face?’
His eyes seem to cloud over with a memory. ‘Something like that.’ His smile returns but this time it seems forced. ‘Well, I need to get going to work, but let’s keep talking.’ He tips an imaginary hat.
I watch him leave, not feeling any closure. I think I’d really like to know where he was on August fifteenth, sixteen years ago.
That afternoon, in the High Command, I find the Commander slumped in his chair, eyes heavy and glazed, unmistakably hungover. In comparison, his advisor – Coatl – looks like he’d sell his dignity for a thumbs up. Marian stands in her usual spot along the side wall.
As much as I need this deal done yesterday, I’m not mad about the Commander’s condition. Stalling means time for Sam and Levi to find a better option. And for me to convince the Commander a coal deal is better than invasion.
‘Marian, I wanted to say thank you for the enchanting time at the waterfall yesterday.’ I smile, playing it up. Last night, the Commander practically threw her at me, and if he wants her close, I’m happy to oblige.
Something calculating enters her eyes. ‘You’re welcome. It was so … romantic.’
I raise an intrigued eyebrow, as my stomach dips. Now, I’m thinking about Marian and Romance.
‘Really?’ the Commander asks. His eyes lift with interest for the first time since I arrived.
‘Yes,’ she says. ‘Ryland picked me wildflowers. Unfortunately, it was too loud at the waterfall, and we weren’t able to do much talking.’
I bite back a smirk. ‘That was unfortunate,’ I agree. ‘Which is why we should do it again.’
A sound of surprise emerges from her throat.
‘This time we could go somewhere quieter. Perhaps take a walk. Or maybe we could attempt a swim, since I’ve secured the proper swimwear.
’ Her gaze flares with amusement, and it’s like a drug in my blood.
‘How does tonight sound?’ Her mask is uncrackable, except for her eyes, which I think I know intimately now after our staring game.
‘But I thought you told me you didn’t know how to swim?’ she counters.
‘Oh, I know how to swim.’ I cock my head. ‘You’ve seen me, remember?’
Colour blooms on her cheeks at being called out on spying, and the fact that she can’t hide it from me has me grinning like an idiot.
‘Enough,’ the Commander snaps. ‘My head hurts from all this talking. I called you here for a reason.’
My gaze flicks back to Marian.
‘I’ve got business at the Lower Beaver Trading Post. I’ll be gone two days,’ he grumbles. ‘So, you can take my offer or leave. I want twenty head of cattle or the equivalent for every wagon of coal.’
Twenty head? We traded our coal for ten per cent of that.
‘And no deal without your settlement name and location. For trust reasons, of course.’
Naturally. A slow, seething anger begins to boil in my gut. I knew he’d try to do us dirty, but this isn’t even in the realm of a possible deal. It’s a slap in the face.
And yet we can’t walk away.
‘Your hesitation tells me you’re not going to take advantage of my generosity. Fine.’ The Commander sounds unconcerned. ‘We’re done here. Coatl, have him removed.’
‘Whoa, whoa, whoa,’ I rush to say, then flash Coatl a look, letting him know he’ll lose that hand if he touches me. He stands down. ‘I thought this was a negotiation. Do I not get to make a counteroffer?’
The Commander rubs his forehead. ‘Like what?’
I exhale, wishing he wasn’t on the verge of puking – he won’t have the patience to go back and forth. ‘Our offer is …’ Going to be worlds away from what he wants. I grimace. ‘We’ll match you wagon for wagon of wheat and a second grain of your choice.’
Coatl barks a laugh.
‘I’m not done,’ I say loudly, even though I should be. ‘If you agree to my offer, we’ll give you a one-time gift of a water system – a gravity-fed water tower that will provide you with running well water from an elevated reservoir to one location.’
Marian gasps quietly. Coatl’s wide eyes grow wider.
‘You have your own lodge, do you not?’ I ask. ‘Imagine a water line to that.’
The Commander straightens, intrigued. ‘You have the old-world materials to give me running water? Pipes? A holding tank?’
‘I wouldn’t offer if we didn’t.’
‘Interesting.’ He sits back. Pulls on his beard with his long fingernails. ‘But the answer’s still no.’
My brows slam down.
‘However … we are getting somewhere. It appears we have more to discuss.’ The Commander thinks for a second. ‘You can stay. For now. I’ll give my counteroffer when I return. Marian will entertain you while I’m gone.’