Chapter Twenty-Six

Posterity

This was the day.

Ariea flexed her bloody knuckles and looked down at the handheld mirror scattered into pieces on the floor of her washroom. She swept the crimson shards under her dresser and washed her hands of the crime in a pool of hot water.

A knock rang at her door.

‘Coming!’ she said.

Again.

‘I said I am coming!’

She drained the water and smeared any lingering redness from her hands, winding them into bandages.

Ariea was led from her square bed chamber and along a narrow corridor, paved in black and gold. Its walls pressed against her like a vice. Everything was pointed and angry-looking, confounded by long shadows and the gloom of lanterns along the way.

The kitchens were to one side, and a string of offices and amenities on the other. Like yesterday, she saw the unmarked door, locked and unattended. All others were signposted. The thought of its contents unsettled her.

Ariea was stopped at a wide doorway at the far end and rubbed one of the wounds below her eye. It throbbed.

‘Enter,’ her escort said; a short man, bathed in silvery robes.

‘Didn’t want to dare presume.’

The escort pushed the door open and Ariea stepped through. Her leather boots clacked over marble to where a table for two was set. She passed herself over to a bay window divided into square sections and saw the smog of Eden beneath overcast skies. It was a smear of grey on grey.

The city was segregated into rigid rows, with alleys folding inside the buildings in satisfying, geometric patterns. A line of children, thirty or more, were led single-file directly below her, watched by two pilgrims. Ariea imagined the buildings might have once been white and pristine, a vision of some future society. But now they stood grey.

Ariea reached a hand down to her trouser pocket, felt the bulge of glass dig into her thigh.

‘Ariea,’ a voice said.

She turned. Malvo Jask had seated himself at the table, awash in a gold-laced gown. He was familiar from Fort Wilder, but leaner, more dead-looking. A white beard flowed on to his chest, masking the narrowness of his face, like sheets of skin on pure bone. Her eyes darted from his half-collapsed skull, to the network of circuitry feeding his neck that sustained him. He smiled at her.

Wordlessly, she collected her high-backed chair and made herself comfortable. A girl about her age swept in and slid two plates of steak and potatoes on to the table. She left without so much as breathing. Ariea’s gaze was caught on the doorway as she left. What great and terrible thing had that girl done to deserve such a job?

‘Ariea,’ Jask repeated. ‘Eat.’

Ariea looked down at her cutlery. She rolled the knife through her fingers.

Knives.

She smiled back at him and began to carve the steak into smaller chunks as Jask watched.

‘Did something happen?’ he asked.

‘What?’

‘Your hand.’ He pointed to the bandage and Ariea admired it aloft.

‘One of your men cut me. It’s nothing.’

‘We can’t have that. I’ll see that it’s—’

‘You really don’t have to do this.’ Ariea let her cutlery clatter over his plate. She stared at the room at large. Her eyes traced across velvet curtains and walls washed in matte black.

‘Do what?’ Jask smiled.

‘Cook me meals. Give me presents. Pretend to be polite. Because we both know you’re not. And we both know your interest in me goes about as far as Agloff Ashborne’s head. So, let’s just take it like it is. I’m a prisoner, not a house guest. And you’re a terrible host.’

‘I…’

‘Just know that given the opportunity I would gladly cut your balls off and feed them to you.’

Jask flashed his eyebrows, amused. ‘I trust it.’

‘And I have every intention of doing so.’

‘Are you quite finished?’

Ariea fell back into her chair, then nodded.

‘You were right on one count. I do have a gift for you.’ He paused. ‘It’s endearing to not see someone so fearful. They don’t look you in the eye, Ariea, breathe or make a sound. I got old and slow and no one seemed to notice. But with you, I see vigour, passion. It refreshes me, genuinely.’

Was that a compliment? Ariea supposed she was resigned to the fact she would die in this place. Either by living out her life in that boxed room under guard or killed at the earliest opportunity. What need had she to fear?

‘I’m glad you’re happy. Must hurt bullying thousands and finding no one really likes you.’

I have to get him out of his seat. Her stare flashed to the doorway and the armoured guard posted there. The table is too long to reach him on surprise alone. I need him to stand. I need him to come to me. Rile him. Yes, that’s it. Provoke him. Make him stand over me. Show his dominance.

‘Something the matter?’ Ariea’s sideways glance did not go unnoticed. ‘You have the strength of iron. But you hide behind these petty quips. If you have something to say…’

Ariea pushed her plate forwards, sighed. ‘Okay. I think you got lucky, with Colony Two. Empires and nations fall all the time. That yours is still here is a fluke.’

‘Give me some credit, please,’ Jask said. ‘We are in the most fertile land in the Colony. That’s no coincidence. We dictate the supply such that, eventually, they all give in. Every fort is reliant on us in some capacity. Everyone has their price. For food, water, medicine… Vaccinations. Consent is the maxim by which I rule, to put it so crudely. If they consent, they don’t rebel. You see now?’

Ariea rolled a finger over the shard of glass again. ‘And the children? Why do you steal them?’

‘A resource.’

‘The ones I passed on the way up? Cuffed to hospital beds.’

His warped face twisted further still. ‘Many of them are being treated for various afflictions,’ he stated.

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‘What about the not-so-many?’

Jask stared at her blankly. ‘Not your concern.’

‘And the ones outside, are they your slaves?’

‘Yes, and no. They are a workforce like any. It is a part of their education. I recall you were treated much the same at Fort Backwater, so I’ve heard. Did you get a choice in that?’

‘This is different. You took people from their families.’

‘Perhaps. Perhaps not. The children are inducted into a way of life from the moment they are brought here. To them, Winter is their normal. Do they see that as something obscene? To be struck down? Of course not. We are the product of our institutions, Ariea.’

‘My institutions didn’t kidnap children.’

‘Did your father consider conscription an evil during the Feng-Hal War? Did he call that kidnapping? I daresay he thought it a civic duty.’

At once, Ariea bounded from her chair, stood over the table with her hands balled into fists. Her chest rose sharply. ‘How dare you talk about my father! Pretend you knew what he thought.’

‘Correct me if I am wrong.’ He waved a hand of apology but looked entertained.

That was a mistake. He knows he can fluster me. He’s still controls the room. How can I provoke him? Another line of questioning.

Agloff!

‘I suppose you expect Agloff is going to come for me,’ she probed.

Again, Jask smiled, munching on a mouthful of potatoes. ‘I do indeed.’

‘He’s not, you know. He’s not stupid enough to come here. To fall for your bait.’ She said it without the conviction that she believed it. Neither possibility was satisfying. But he deserved to be spared this, and whatever Jask had for him in that nameless door.

He isn’t dumb enough to take the bait, surely.

‘I think we both know that is a stretch. Agloff’s love for you is no less than yours is for him. Otherwise, you would not be sat there. I see why he likes you. He now has double the incentive to come.’

Ariea’s mind flashed again to the nameless door. For once, she could think of nothing to say. She dragged her plate back and stuffed her cheeks with steak instead.

‘You may as well kill me, because he’s not coming.’

‘I will,’ Jask said coolly, ‘in time. You throw yourself at death, with such rampant ardour. You confound me.’

Another compliment?

‘If it meant taking you with me, I would be glad to die.’

‘At your age, how can you say that with any conviction? You cannot know the consequences of such an action. Let us say you entered this room today with the conviction of killing me, and yourself.’ The Enemy leaned forward.

He can’t know. He only guesses.

‘So, if I have?’

‘What would you hope would happen? The security of a people is lost. A bloody vacuum of power ensues. How would you ensure a smooth transition?’

Ariea thought. ‘I would have thought you would have contingencies for your death.’

‘I do. But there are always pretenders. Queen Yara of Fort Spear is a plague with imperial dreams. Might lives be lost in her crosshairs? Or might my Apostles war for the honour of succession. Statecraft is an imprecise business.’

‘Then, in answer to your question, I cannot. But I would have thought any eventuality is better than this. The Colony has a right to its own freedom.’

Jask dipped his chin. At last, he stood.

Ariea’s heart lurched and her hand closed over the bulge in her trouser pocket. It cut further still into her thigh, like the blade that it was. Not yet.

The Enemy’s attentions were caught by an opaque bottle that rested at the centre of the table, suspended between two candles. He glided halfway to her and paused.

‘A noble enough intention, I suppose.’ He looked at Ariea. ‘Wine?’

She shook her head.

‘You forget a crucial detail though.’

‘What?’

‘In this hypothetical we are entertaining. Were you to kill me here, Agloff Ashborne is no longer protected. His use becomes spent.’

A wide silence fell between them. A sick feeling pushed through Ariea’s insides and she prodded her plate away again. She looked at him through a gaunt stare of unblinking eyes.

I cannot give in. I must not.

‘You forget he’s not coming,’ she said eventually.

Jask seated himself and poured a drizzle into his glass. ‘Please, Ariea. Don’t torture yourself with that lie. But we should continue.’ He took a sip. ‘We have established the motive, however misguided, but what of the method?’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘How would you kill me?’ He gestured the bottle of wine. ‘Poison perhaps. But there’s no practical means unless you brought it with you. You could choke me. That’s what you want, isn’t it? I would not resist, but I doubt you would get far before my guard stuns you.’ He waved a finger towards the door. The silver-plated pilgrim was unmoved.

He looked down the length of the table, to the cutlery at right angles over her plate.

‘Maybe a knife.’

Ariea humoured him. She stared at the slither of silver, dipped in red and feigned a longing look. Then chuckled and leaned back. ‘I want to, but why bother? I’m sure others have tried before. If they failed, why would I be different?’

‘A savvy assessment.’

‘You give yourself too much credit,’ she jibed. ‘People don’t kill you because they can’t. They don’t kill you because they’re scared.’ Look at him, more brittle than glass and as sickly looking as my father was in Drake’s dungeon. ‘And you lucked into finding me.’

For the first time, Jask laughed. He slid a strip of steak into his mouth. ‘Is your opinion of me so little?’

I can’t afford to wait much longer. I need to take my chance. She glanced at his wine. Nearly empty. The next time he fills it. That’s my window. The consequences of her actions were without thought. She would die, but was that not worth it? In the scheme of things, her sacrifice was minor.

The Enemy waited for her to answer but she did not. ‘I concede I was fortunate Taret Stone’s nephew overheard your carelessness. But did you not think it convenient that someone just happened to show up when you were at Wilder, to take you to Wishbone? Of all the days, on all the years when you could have come and gone?’

What piece of information had betrayed them? What token did Jask have in reserve? He was building towards something, she could tell. Some detail they had missed. Because he was right. It was more than mere coincidence.

She thought of Merry, of Memphis, of Lady, of Oxford. The miseries of centuries gone and centuries to come weighed on this day. If she was to die in this awful place, let it be of consequence. Of virtue. Let her be good.

Jask’s glass ran dry. The moment was close now. Her hand reached into her pocket.

‘I haven’t thought about it,’ Ariea said eventually.

‘Then I’ll enlighten you.’ He buried a hand into the lining of his gown, pulled a square of paper and placed it face down on the table.

‘What is that?’

‘Something for posterity. When you left the Underground, you made a mistake, Ariea Finland.’

He turned over the slip.

No. She can’t have.

Ariea’s heart fell like stone into the pit of her being. All hope escaped her, and she saw that she was never meant to win this game. Her head dropped dolefully over the table, beaten. What have I done?

Finally, Jask stood and he set the slip down in front of her and reached a spindly arm across the hind of her chair. She felt the wicked smile of his victory.

A photograph of Ariea and Tails smiled hauntingly back at her.

‘You understand now?’ Jask whispered. ‘Yes?’

A tear edged down Ariea’s cheek. She drew her arms into herself like a schoolgirl summoned to their headmaster. Then, nodded.

‘She had strength enough when you left her to leave us that. She had your name. That was enough to increase our watch over Wilder. I could never presume you would go, of course. But your heart couldn’t resist her, and Agloff’s couldn’t resist Wilder. You are two sides of a coin.’

‘Tails hated Winter,’ Ariea said simply. ‘She spent every day in fear of you. She said not to trust anyone.’

‘And she was right. A compelling dichotomy, no? Everyone has their price. I told you that. And this is the lesson, Ariea. My gift to you. When even your enemies work for you, there is no end to which I cannot succeed.’

‘What was her price?’

Jask leaned over her. His shadow was cast the length of the table. ‘Runaways are afflicted with a compulsion to return to their families. Tails and her sister kept admirable distance. But if the runaway can’t be punished…’

‘You hurt their families.’

‘Her mother fell quite ill. The cost of her treatment was Tails’ information. Tails used her last moments to beg her ultimate salvation, with that photograph.’

‘Oh, Tails.’

How can I blame her, the poor girl? Ariea smeared her tears over her cheeks. She imagined her face a mess of red and blue. There was a moment’s pause, then she laughed. And she couldn’t stop laughing. It was the most satisfying irony.

‘What?’

‘It is funny, that you boast how you control everything and everyone and there’s nothing that can stop you. But, in the end, you are on this planet for one reason and it’s Agloff. And it’s not going to give him to you.’ She spat. Her words were laboured through a manic grin. ‘After everything; the Underground, Tails, Stone, Agloff’s still not here. He will never be here. But I am.’

She turned and stared at him with a half-smile. His dim-lit features bulged, cut in a line of shadow.

Now was the moment. Ariea plunged a hand into her pocket and bounded from her chair.

She turned. Before Jask could move, Ariea yelled and her body fell into Jask’s, tipping them through the air in synchrony. He hit the ground with a dull thud and her arms raised over him. He made a move to strike. But her fist leaned against him first. The shard of glass plunged into his neck; its work done.

A spur of blood pulsed from side. Malvo Jask’s body cowed and convulsed.

Roars and shouts buzzed in her ears and a pair of arms reached around her. Others came rushing in. But she didn’t care. Ariea looked upon her work, her face alight with a delectable grin.

The body rolled over, dragging itself to its knees. Blood spilled between the fingers vainly clutching its wound. He had miscalculated. Ariea was not so easily beaten. She let her body fall lax under the weight of her guard, and watched proudly.

That was the last thing she saw as she was dragged from the hall.

She supposed she would never know if she succeeded.