Nika walked into the main room, which had once been a barroom, to find Tricks nailing a chalkboard to the wall.
“What on earth are you doing?” she demanded.
“Setting up a memorial,” Tricks banged in the last nail.
“A mem…Tricks, where did you find a blackboard?”
“Abandoned school,” Tricks said, evasively. “Borrowed it.”
“Will you return it?”
“I’m a thief,” Tricks rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Now throw me the chalk from over there.”
Nika picked up a stick of white chalk from the counter which had once been the bar itself and tossed it to Tricks, interested despite herself. The girl caught it and began to write in tidy, square letters.
“In memory,” Nika read, “of those who died for freedom.”
“Exactly,” Tricks finished with a flourish. “Currently, we have one name.”
She wrote “Gri-gri” under the heading.
“Got any flowers?” she asked.
“No,” Nika shook her head. “I’m sure you can acquire some.”
“I’ll be back soon,” Tricks grinned. “Got to do it properly, haven’t you?”
By the time Tricks was back and had nailed a posy of stolen flowers beneath the blackboard, the room was starting to fill up with people going about the important business of simply being. Nika watched the effect and smiled.
Every eye turned towards the board. Everybody read it, or got somebody to read it to them. People noticed, even if only out of the corner of their eye. It was obvious to Nika what this simple memorial was going to do: create a martyr to fight for.
Nika felt a shaming sense of triumph, of calculated pleasure. It was such a clever move in the game. Martyrs led people on. It had always been that way.
She glanced sharply at Tricks, wondering if the girl had deliberately done this or whether she had simply meant the memorial to be, well, a memorial. One look at the girl’s sparkling eyes told her the answer: Tricks was as cold-blooded about it as she was. It was only brains involved.
“Nice,” she muttered to the girl when she passed.
Tricks grinned. “Gets the blood boiling, huh? Got to go. I think our dear Diamonds need a little shaking up.”
Nika walked the streets of First trying not to feel tense. The Pretties of St Commerce’s had styled her hair and painted her face, chattering and laughing all the while as if remaking a person’s appearance was the greatest game.
The silken skirts were unfamiliar, a smooth light blue and too close to her ankles. She kept having to remember to glide not stride, smooth steps, shoulders back, delicate movements…
“Remember, you’re a princess,” Missy ordered. “An angel. You’re the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen and they should bow down and worship you. You rule the world. You’re not in a hurry. Now walk like that.”
The concept wasn’t unfamiliar but the costume was. Nika did her best. And, though she wasn’t about to admit it, she really did like the royal blue velveteen jacket.
“Any gossip?” Nika asked, casually.
Missy sighed. “Grammar. Grammar and elocution. Please remember that you’re representing the school. And if you fail you’ll be dragged away and killed.”
YOU ARE READING
The Rising Dawn
AdventureTwenty years ago, two thirds of the world's population silently and mysteriously died in one instant. A new regime fell into place: a regime controlled by the Ruler. Confined within place, ordered and structured, the new regime is designed to keep...
