Nada's Escape

44- Allies.

"Thank you, Martin." I smile as he leads the last girl through the door. Miraculously, he nods and slips back inside to leave me alone with Macie. Her lips remain pursed, her fingers tapping, hiding her anger behind the little things. If I'd still been in Seven I would have understood it: fighter and worm were like matter and antimatter. But after ceremony day and her help the night I'd escaped... surely we're past all that?

"So I do have a way to get the rest of you out of here." I start, feeling renewed to be able to speak freely after a day of mumbling. But Macie cuts me off.

"No. I already know; we need to talk Huntsmen. Who are your allies? What do they want from us?" She leans forward, the ends of her brown-red hair slipping over her shoulders. I gape for a second at this change of tack. She must have been talking to Amy: how many other things have changed since I'd escaped?

"They're Finley's allies..." I stretch my mind to remember what he'd said about them. I got the feeling some of them were wardens, possibly those that worked in Seven, which would explain how he'd managed to sneak me in and out so easily for the garden party. "Wardens, I think. I met some of them that day I disappeared with him."

"Right. So what are their names?" Macie's face contorts her freckles for a second as she replies. She must read the incredulity on my face and moves on, "What do they look like?" Disappointment roars through me.

"I don't remember..." I reply, dejected. "You know, I'm not good with all that. Remembering people. Especially Huntsmen." Macie shakes her head derisively.

"You're more about the action," she cuts in. "Unfortunately you've made a deal with people you haven't even met. For our freedom not yours, I might add." My mind goes zinging into defence at her barbs.

"I trusted in Finley. And that's dumb, I know." I berate Macie like it's her fault but she cuts me off again.

"Finley is trustworthy. He truly means to do the right thing in this case. But he's only one boy. He's relying on other Huntsmen to help him out and you just about said it yourself. Huntsmen are not only untrustworthy; they pride themselves on it. What makes these rebels any different? So I will make the pledge tomorrow if I have no choice but what I want to know- what I'd really like to know is what these rebels are ready to kill for. Because if the council wants us enslaved then this is the perfect ruse."

My mind rushes like a torrent, first the disconcerting feeling that Macie knows Finley better than I shoots through me. But then for the longest time I hadn't wanted anything to do with him, had I? I argue.

Then I feel familiar rage about the tenets of Huntsmen culture: lie, steal, kill. And horror fills me at the picture of betrayal Macie has painted. If Finley is also being played, by the other Huntsmen, by his father, this could all be a great mistake. Perhaps his father had threatened me only to convince me that Finley was on my side. It had certainly worked. And hadn't I seen just how in control of his voice and the crowd Finley's father was-

Macie slaps her hand on the table to get my attention. The conspiracies still whirl in my mind but I move my eyes to her.

"So you have to find that out," she commands. "I also want to talk to you about the post- Oh Percival! Hello."

I start, wondering when the exterior door had gotten so quiet. Sure enough, leveraging himself into the room on a cane is Percival, wearing a forest green jumper despite the heat.

"Oh Nada, good." Percival wheedles, "I wanted to talk to you about the elder girls." I glance between him and Macie in shock. He is completely ignoring her. "I was wondering if you might permit me to sponsor them both for the 'morrow?"

"Amy and Macie?" I ask bewildered. "No I don't think-" Macie slams her foot down on my toes and I break off, shooting a whisper quick glance at her. Does she want to be sponsored by the lecherous old fool?

"I don't think that will be a problem...?" I reply, glimpsing Macie's nod of confirmation in my periphery. Macie's tactics are exhausting, I think, wrinkling my crushed toes.

"Splendid. I also have a gift for you. A little welcome to the ranks of the chosen."

I open my mouth to refuse the gift, god I hate gifts, but I sense Macie's foot lift again. I jump up from the bench, moving my feet out of her range and find myself toe-to-toe with Percival's brown wingtips. A green-wrapped package is pressed into my slow hands.

"Aren't you here to see Macie?" I ask in confusion, avoiding his too close face.

"Oh. Two beautiful birds, one sharpened stone," He replies and clacks his crooked teeth together into a jack-o-lantern grin. "Finley told me you'd be here." I scuttle away from him, out into the open space between the tables.

"Go on, open it." He grins. I carefully scrape the tape up from one end of the package and slide out a large photo frame.

Lavish gold twists to frame an image of the Warrior Mage in all his glory. Swirling robes of white and black, a chiselled chest, shining long sword in one hand, a staff with a giant magenta orb on the end in his other. His symbol drawn in light behind him. Licks of blood adorn the long sword, dripping into a pool at his feet but his skin is clean and shining like a fresh snow drift in the sun. An angel so hyperbolic it's grotesque.

I wipe the grimace from my face, promising to smash it when I get out of sight. "Thanks," I lie.