Checkmate

Endgame (Epilogue)

"I'm here to pick up the order for Clanholding."

The male at the counter looked up at once, his black eyes briefly meeting mine before coming around the counter, heading towards the windows, glancing outside.

I'd been careful, waiting for the right time to come, an hour before the evening curfew, when people would be hurrying back to their homes. I'd entered the store only after I'd been absolutely certain it was empty and there were no potential customers lingering in the street outside.

Dainor turned the sign on the door over and walked back to me, nodding briefly at the young female who had come out from the rear of the store. She began bustling around, lifting a box onto the counter and opening it, before drawing the step ladder open against the shelves. Anyone looking in would assume the store had shut a little early to do a stock take.

"This way, Ala." He said pleasantly, signalling me to follow him behind the counter through the curtain at the back.

We walked through the supply rooms, and I saw the little cart of supplies, all prepared and carefully arranged by the wall, ready for me to take back, as per my cover story. Even after all this time, we didn't take any chances, if anyone checked, this was the order I'd placed a few days ago. I never placed the same order twice and I never picked it up at the same time or day, just to be safe. 

We went through to a small back room that could pass for a storage room, it was cramped, had no ventilation, no windows, just the one door, and smelled of dust and old paper, with random pieces of furniture and boxes that looked as if they'd been hastily and carelessly shoved inside. 

To all eyes, this was a nondescript, dirty little room that had been neglected. 

Even the sharpest Intelligence agent could not have discovered its truth. 

Dainor closed the door behind me and we turned to face each other. Now his pleasant mask was off, his expression was serious, tense.

"Well?"

"The orders go out tomorrow." I said, keeping my voice low, even though I knew we couldn't be heard in here. "Those who will be brought into each service area, based on the need, current occupation and age. Younglings will have their own service, the Youth Guard. Membership mandatory."

"Younglings." He said, his voice tight, out of shock or anger, I couldn't tell. He was quiet, so I continued speaking.

"The borders have been fortified, border barriers at maximum strength. They are confident that the other Clans will find it hard to break through. They are expecting Enarda to try soon."

He exhaled.

"And what word from the borders?"

I shook my head. 

"Nothing new."

"The other Clans are bracing." He said absently, almost to himself. After a moment, he refocused, looking at me.

"What of the prisoners?" He asked quietly.

I returned his gaze steadily.

"Nothing changes." I said equally quietly. 

He looked down at the floor. I could see the defeat in him, his shoulders hunched over, whole demeanour that of one who has no more strength to see the battle through, no more hope to hang on to, no future to wait for. I knew that feeling. I saw it in myself every morning in the mirror as I got ready for work. There was nothing left for us now, except waiting for the end. 

He raised his head again.

"You are safe?" Dainor asked the same question every time, always concerned over my wellbeing.