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  Serif’s mother shook her head. “It’s Nathan. He’s been with us for years now. We never thought that she had a spy in our ranks. Nathan would have shown symptoms if he was using the dust. We would have known.”

  “He is a true believer. It’s the only way. He was spying for her. For the queen,” Serif commented.

  Dave could see the young man stagger forward through the crowd like a drunk. Nathan’s face was euphoric as he raised a glass alcohol lantern, smashing it over his head. The clear fluid drenched his clothes. Rivulets of crimson formed on his scalp from where the glass had carved open his scalp and began to drip downward, mixing with the liquid.

  “She wants all of you to know her love! Do not be afraid! I am not afraid!” The crazed man pulled out a piece of flint and began clacking it against a metal rod.

  Dave realized what was happening and raced against the fleeing crowd, dodging and shouldering people as he went.

  Clack.

  Dave’s legs fired like pistons as he barrelled through the crowd. Pushing a woman out of the way, he cleared the last of the citizens and hit the open ground at a full run.

  Clack.

  Dave’s fist collided with the alcohol-soaked jaw, and the man stiffened for a moment before stumbling backward into a stall. The small table collapsed under the weight. Dave grabbed the man’s shirt and lifted him for another blow, but a deep snoring indicated that the man was out cold.

  Dave dropped him to the ground and looked around, wringing his sore hand. A few red-clothed figures stood statue-still in the quickly emptying intersection. Dave realized that his blade was inside, in the foyer with his bag.

  Serif and Genie stepped forward, pulling out their blades. Synchronized, the red zealots turned and retreated into the fleeing crowd, evaporating from sight.

  Dave looked back down at the man. “We’re going to find out what you know.”

  Chapter 16

  “So what do we do with him now?” Dave looked at Serif, then back to the Nathan. The unconscious form was tied to the chair and stank of alcohol from the failed attempt at self-immolation. Dave wondered absently if he himself was getting drunk off the evaporating fumes.

  “The next council will decide,” Serif stated, looking over his shoulder at the men and women dragging the last of the furniture out into the street, while others began scrubbing the floor with alcohol to sterilize the room.

  “Isn’t that going to take some time?” Dave asked.

  “Not necessarily. The council is small because we do not have a lot of people in the trade district, and the first group that shows up fills the seats.”

  “There aren’t elections?”

  “We don’t vote for our people. Each person who sits in this room is the first person who arrived. They make a decision and then leave. A group is a mix of new and old each time they assemble.”

  “That seems really ineffective. How do they get anything accomplished at all?”

  “They don’t. We don’t control the city. There are no structures put into place. The council is made up of business men and women. They come and go. They are citizens who are interested in effecting change. Sometimes more for their own pockets than for the greater good.”

  “Again… it seems ineffective.”

  “Would you have us choose a king? A president? Hold elections for officials? It would take years to get anything done. And who are we to tell others what to do?”

  “There have to be laws?”

  “There are no laws. No schools. No government. Every time a group decides to ‘create change,’ the queen squashes it. She sends in her agents, and they kill the man or woman who is trying to organize anything. We have found that this way, with a constantly changing citizen council, we are not affected by an individual loss. It creates a consistent place of decision-making but no one person or group that can control power for long.”

  “Can’t you kill the queen?”

  “We have tried. She is either hidden or doesn’t exist. She speaks through the infected.”

  “Can’t you follow one to where she lives? Kill her?”

  Serif shook his head. “No. None of her followers visit her. None have ever seen her. There are shrines and temples that they make, but she never comes to them.”

  “So how does she tell them what to do?”

  “The dust… you felt it, didn’t you? The connection? The feeling of being part of something bigger?”

  Dave reflected on this and remembered the warm embrace of the drug. “Yes.”

  He felt ashamed at how he had discounted Sue’s addiction for a chosen option. He imagined how easily it would be to sink back into the blissful fog of the dust. It would be easy to lose himself. Easy to choose to take another dose. Dave could imagine how self-control would quickly become an illusion.

  “Then you should know that the feeling you experienced is real. It is a connection with her mind. The more the dust is used, the more connected the person becomes. They eventually become nothing more than an extension of her. That’s why they stop eating and taking care of their bodies. They are not who they once were.”

  “Like a psychic connection?” Dave asked. “Sounds like horse shit.”

  “You keep mentioning horses.”

  “It means that it sounds like a lot of mumbo-jumbo. Fake. Not real. Fantasy. There’s no such thing as psychic control. These guys are just addicts. Crazy addicts. They use the drug; they just don’t want someone taking their junk away from them.”

  “You will see,” Serif stated. “I will show you.”

  “How?”

  “We are going to dose him until he connects with the queen. Then… then we will ask her what we want to know about you and the curtain.”

  “So if your theory is correct, she knows where he is. Won’t other followers come and try to rescue him?”

  “Normally, no. My only worry is that she might find out where you are through his eyes. In that case, she will send more. There are very few inside the city. We need to tell the council what we are doing.”

  “What if there is another spy?”

  Serif shook his head. “It won’t matter. At least for the short term. We have to drop the curtain. Nothing else matters. We cannot keep living like this. The old ways where people don’t have to fight for food and kill each other seem very appealing. People are educated, they take care of each other. There are medicines for things we die of here. The stories the elders talk about made me want to make things better.”

  “Haven’t you been?”

  “Yes and no. I have spent most of my life defending small villages from raiders and zealots. I have seen almost everything under the curtain, but the queen is oppressive. She keeps us living like animals waiting for her harvest. We could be elevated. We could be more, but she keeps us low.”

  “Sounds like you have been making a difference, though. You’re keeping her people at bay.”

  “It’s for money. Only just to feed myself. Each time I kill one of her thralls, she infects another somewhere else. Dropping the curtain will make the greatest difference. If what you say is true, we need to destroy this ‘core’ so that we can be free as you are outside the curtain. We have stagnated.”

  “We still need to find it. I don’t even know what it is, let alone where it is.”

  “The first step is to find out why she wants you so badly. The second will be to find where the core is. Everything else will fall into place once we find it.”

  “I hope so,” Dave said.

  The man in the chair moaned, lifting his head.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living. Looks like you’re not dead yet,” Dave said.

  “Nathan. How long have you been spying for the queen?”

  The man shook his head and sighed, ignoring them.

  A group of people filtered back in, eying the man in the chair. Some of the workers tossed their gloves and masks made from rags into a garbage can before gathering in the centre under the stained glass.

&
nbsp; Dave could hear them come together naturally, each introducing themselves to each other.

  Serif turned to him. “Today we will be both be part of the council.”

  “I’m an outsider,” Dave objected.

  “You are more a part of this than a baker and a blacksmith,” Serif pointed out. The tall man turned to Genie. “Please watch him. If anything happens, kill him first.”

  Genie nodded and pulled out a thin, crudely crafted blade from her belt. Dave was sure from the smile on her face that it was kept sharp for just these moments. She tapped the point on the inside of the man’s thigh, and he flinched.

  Dave turned away and reluctantly followed Serif to the growing circle of people. Heads turned toward them as the two approached, and opened up a spot, widening the human chain. The introductions completed with Serif, who then introduced Dave. Serif quickly relayed the story, focusing on the reasons for the queen’s attack. “Dave Thompson and his friend Tony travelled here to save us. One has already sacrificed his life for this goal. We seek resources and support to find the core. If we can find it, we can remove the curtain. We can save our city and everyone inside. If we do nothing, we all die. Everyone outside will die. All of our people, even the queen’s, will cease to exist. No one will know we ever lived.”

  The council mumbled amongst themselves, conferring with people next to them. Heads nodded and agreed. A few dissenters were skeptical and remained quiet during the process.

  “What do you need?” Serif asked Dave.

  “I don’t know the area, but the centre of your city will be where the core is. We need to find it. Or at least scout the area. It will take too long for the two of us to wander looking for whatever might be generating the field... the curtain. We don’t know what it looks like, though. It might be some sort of tech or device. Trevor suspected that it was about this size...” Dave held out his hands, miming a large globe. “If we can get enough people to help, if we can find someone to do the leg work, once it is found we can do the rest. There is not a lot of time.”

  “I will send out my couriers,” a man said.

  Another bearded man nodded, crossing his arms. “A few of my workers can go and help. I can’t commit all of them. I still need to farm.”

  The voices of commitment each began to speak. “Most of my collectors will know the area. They have been pulling material out of there.”

  A younger woman stepped forward. “I will go myself.”

  “My sons found that missing child earlier this year. They should be able to find something as big as what you described,” offered another.

  “We are in agreement?” Serif asked, and heads bobbed silently.

  “We will leave a messenger here who knows where we are. If anyone finds what we are looking for, or something that may be related to it, send for us.”

  The group dissipated quickly, leaving Serif, Dave, and the archer.

  Serif addressed the Archer. “Remain here and come find us. We will be in the chapel of the inner ring.” Serif turned, motioning for Dave to follow. “Now we will discuss the consequences of our spy’s actions.”

  Chapter 17

  Dave followed Serif, watching the man carry the Nathan over his shoulder as easily as a rolled carpet. Serif’s thin frame hid a sinewy strength bred by a lifetime of hard work and activity. Although Dave felt relatively in shape, he found it difficult to keep up with the man, regardless of how burdened he was.

  In the dimming light they weaved through broken houses and alleys, occasionally stopping to let Genie move ahead and check if the next route was clear of threats.

  Eventually, they wormed their way through the streets to find themselves at an old red-brick church wedged between a high-rise apartment and a street of almost identical homes.

  Checking over his shoulder, Serif scanned the area behind them while Genie slipped inside silently to ensure it was safe. Once clear, the two men and their prisoner followed suit, stepping through the open door. Inside, two other men dressed in black garments similar to Genie and Serif looked Dave up and down, sizing him up. Serif unloaded the bound and gagged man onto the wooden floor with an unceremonious thud. A groan emitted from under the hood.

  “Do you have it?” Serif asked one of the men.

  The shorter man handed him a parcel wrapped in rags. Serif smiled.

  “Please take our guest upstairs and find a comfortable chair for him. We will be here a few days.”

  The larger man grabbed the spy and tossed him over a shoulder before mounting the creaky wooden stairs. David wondered if they would hold under their combined weight.

  In the fading evening light streaming through the front door, he could see the church was almost in a condemned state. Through the foyer, he could see a kitchen floor had been torn up for firewood. Most of the plaster had fallen off and was piled on the floors near the walls like mounds of white dirt. The exposed thin, horizontal slats of wood emitted an ancient odour of dry rot. None of the pews remained. Not even the cross or pedestal at the front had been spared salvage.

  Dave could see that the windows had been boarded up with scraps. Despite the open space, he felt claustrophobic as Genie closed the doors behind him.

  Serif watched up the stairs until Nathan’s carried body disappeared around the bend in and listened carefully for a few moments, allowing the man to be far above them before speaking with Dave. “Dave, you must trust me in what we are about to do. It may be unusual, and I need you to do as I say.”

  “Torture won’t work—” Dave began to say.

  “We aren’t going to torture him, but what happens next may be unusual. You must trust me.”

  “I trust you. I just don’t want to waste time we don’t have.”

  “What I need you to do is not say a single word once you go up the stairs. No matter what happens. Keep your mouth closed. If you need to talk to us, bring one of us downstairs. Everything that he hears the queen will know. This will not be a waste. In fact, this will bring us closer to our goal. Meet me upstairs on the top floor. I want to make sure that the downstairs is secure and preparations are made.”

  Dave nodded and ascended the creaky stairs. His hand avoided dragging along the cracked and splintered rail. Each step echoed, and he was thankful for the open windows in the stairwell on the second and third floors; otherwise, there was no light to guide his way.

  At the top floor, he stepped up into the attic and could see the men finishing strapping the now naked turncoat to a chair. They picked up the chair and placed it in the centre of a large yellow plastic sheet.

  The man was doped up on something that they had given him and wasn’t fighting. The sight of the black-clad figures wrapping the man in the translucent yellow plastic made Dave’s pulse rise and his breath hitch in his chest. He felt the need to run from the room and find help.

  He realized he was standing on the top step, frozen. Watching. Frozen.

  The plastic was lifted around Nathan, enveloping his body and the chair he was tied to. A loop of rope fixed the end of the plastic at his neck, encasing him with only his head exposed.

  Genie touched Dave’s arm, and he jumped. She slid past him and turned once on the top step. Keeping eye contact, she placed a hand on his shoulder and made a rising and falling motion with her other hand at diaphragm level, encouraging him to breathe.

  Her smile was kind and understanding, despite what was going on in the room.

  She disappeared through a door on the left that divided the attic into two separate spaces.

  “Is our guest comfortable?” Serif asked from below as he ascended the creaking stairs. Dave could see a fabric-wrapped item in his hand.

  “He’s ready,” stated the large man who had carried the turncoat to the top floor.

  “Good. I will be with you in a moment,” Serif stated, following Genie through the door. After a moment, he emerged, still carrying his fabric-wrapped package, placing it on the floor near the wall.

  Carefully, he removed his j
acket and backpack and placed his hands into long leather gloves before untying the twine that bound the package together. Dave watched Serif stand and could see a stick of dust in the man’s one hand, a small knife in the other.

  “This will be a first. I don’t think we have done this before,” Serif said.

  Dave began to utter a noise of concern as his skin crawled. Just at the thought of being near the dust made him uncomfortable.

  Serif pointed the small knife at Dave. “Not a word. Not even a single word.” His eyes focused on Dave so intently that Dave snapped his mouth shut with a clack of his teeth. His jaw gritted tightly as he watched Serif cut a small hole above Nathan’s naked lap. Working the end of the tube into the small hole, Serif poured the contents over the man’s thighs. Through the medication, Nathan’s head rolled, and a smile crossed his face.

  Dave gritted his teeth harder, watching the precious dust empty out, coating the man’s skin inside the bag. This time there was no negative discomfort or pain, just a sharp intake of air.

  Serif had told Dave that the first dose was the only one that would carry the pain, and often the feeling of being connected with a vast mind would outweigh the sensation of the burning skin on the second use of the dust.

  Still smiling, Nathan relaxed against his bonds, and his head lolled back.

  “We will give him some time before the next dose.”

  Dave gave Serif a look of worry.

  Serif stopped in his tracks. “If you cannot be up here without saying anything, go downstairs,” He disappeared through the door again. Dave felt the emptiness of the room creep in.

  His feet found their way down the stairs, and he took one more look at the man before descending. Shaking his head, he found others gathered in the kitchen, relaxing. Some were talking. They welcomed him in and made room.

  Confused, but not wanting to be alone, he found a place on the floor and leaned against the wall with his backpack at his feet.

  Over the course of the night, and into the next day, he could hear Serif open the door upstairs, dose the man again, and return to the door.