Bad Seed

Amos wasn't sure what had got is neice so riled up. Elsa fumbled with the catch to the largest compartment. Amos shuffled over to help.

“I’ve got it,” he said.

Amos raised the lid and shone his lantern inside to find a boy, his body mottled with bruises, welts and cuts. As the light washed over him, the kid rolled onto his back and his eyes fluttered open to reveal irises as grey as ash.

Amos recoiled. “Take him back!”

A deep fear took root in his belly and grew.

“Wherever you found him,” Amos said, “for darkness’ sake, return him there.”

Elsa shook her head, tears in her eyes. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Or take him to the deepest, darkest hole you can find and throw him down it. I don’t care what you do. Just get him out of here!”

Elsa clutched her hands together, knuckles white. “Uncle, I took him from the Guardhouse. They had him, Doctor Orsay and Melker, and they were hurting him.”

Dizziness gripped Amos. “Doctor Orsay? Girl, what have you done?”

She started babbling, her panic feeding off his less than calm reaction. “There was a Citizen, and I promised to help him locate something important. I didn’t know it was a boy, but when I saw what they were doing, I couldn’t leave him there. I didn’t have it in me.”

“Elsa, this kid was part of the gang that attacked me on the surface!”

With this realisation, the tears started to fall. “I didn’t know.”

“They tried to kill me!”

“I couldn’t leave him,” she said. “Look at him. Look at what they’ve done and tell me I did the wrong thing.”

He couldn’t. Amos closed his eyes and ran his hands through his white hair. “Do they know it was you?”

“I don’t think so. Maybe. Melker had me waiting in his chamber. There are unconscious guards there and Smokers took his weapons.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Amos looked around the courtyard, the shadows seemed even more menacing now, a place for watchful eyes to hide.

“Let’s get the cart inside.”

He took up the handle and Elsa raced forward to open the grey doors wide. He parked the cart next to his larger wagon and reached into the compartment for the boy. The child weighed almost nothing.

“I saw him on the pier yesterday,” Elsa said next to him, as they hastened down the tunnel to his workshop. “He was trying to get onto the ferry and Melker shot him. I thought he’d died.”

They reached the workshop and Amos moved towards his bed. He lay the boy down and straightened. They both stood there. Neither of them knowing what to do. They’d patched up minor wounds before, but this boy’s sliced-up body was far beyond their level of expertise.

Elsa knelt beside the bed. “Finn, can you open your eyes?”

She brushed the hair back from his face and Finn muttered, “I must tell the shining city. When they know, they will stop it. I must tell them. They can stop it. They can stop him.”

“He’s burning up,” Elsa said. She lifted his lids. Finn’s eyes were rolled back into his head. “Is he going to die?”

Amos crouched beside her to examine the injuries. He rubbed a hand over his whiskers.

“What do you think?” Elsa asked. “Should I get the medical kit from your wagon?”

“Do you remember when you were thirteen and you cut your hand on a rusty sign in the junk cavern?”

“Yes,” Elsa said and showed him the faint scar on the back of her right hand.

“The infection set in quickly, only hours after the incident. You had a fever, and your mother stayed up all night sponging you down. Your hand swelled to twice its size and turned red. The wound began to smell. You couldn’t hold your fluids. We were terrified we were going to lose you. In the end, I had to bribe a member of the Science Guild to come into the Darkzone to see you. He gave us medicine from the council stores. It’s the only time your mother has accepted help from me since you became Bad Seed.”

Elsa pressed her hand against the boy’s forehead. “He has a fever. Do you think his wounds are infected? Should we get one of Rusty’s salves?”

Amos snorted. “That fish oil claptrap is the last thing we need. What I’m trying to say is the boy’s cuts don’t look anything like the one on your hand. To be honest they look… almost healed.”

Elsa studied the boy’s wounds, then turned over her left hand and opened her fingers. Amos noticed three new scars on her palm.

“Freedom,” she muttered.

“Pardon?”

Elsa closed her fist. “You were right. These Blood Wolves, they aren’t normal.”

“No,” he said, “they’re dangerous and not to be trusted.”

Elsa nodded, but Amos caught her looking at the scar on her palm again and his apprehension grew.

***

Noak lost his pursuers in one of the waterfall tunnels and it took him some time to wind his way back to the port. With the deep bark of dogs in the distance, he scaled the cave wall above the lake.

“That was close.” Roan pulled Noak over the ledge and went back to watching the tunnel to the Guardhouse, which buzzed with angry, armed soldiers. “They’ve locked the place down and reopened the sentry towers. No one’s getting in there anytime soon.”

“You saw?” Noak asked.

“We were waiting by the gate,” Roan said. “We got most of the escaped Smokers across the bridge, but you were nowhere to be seen.”

“I took a different route.”

Noak headed to the back of the cave. Ysolde was waiting for him.

“Did you find him,” she asked, her eyes bright with hope.

Noak eased himself against the wall. “Yes.”

She rose. “Well, where is he?”

“Safe.”

Noak inspected the damage to his arm, a stinging bullet straight through flesh.

“You’re hurt.” Ysolde stepped forward to help him.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I’ll fix it. I just want to rest for a moment.”

She retreated to the other side of the hollow.

Noak tore the sleeve off his stolen, black coat. Roan crouched down next to him and handed him a flask of water and a roll of cloth to clean the area.

“If Finn didn’t leave with you, how’d he get out?”

“There was a young woman,” Noak said, “a local.”

Roan’s eyes widened in understanding. “The girl with the cart.”

Noak nodded. “We made a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Ysolde asked.

“She’ll help us,” Noak said, hedging around the details. “It’s in her best interests to keep Finn safe until we can find another way of getting him out of here.”

“Wait, why do we need another way?” Roan asked. “What’s wrong with walking out of here?”

“He’s got injuries. I’m not sure he could make it.”

“They’re that bad?” She asked. And it was odd to hear the worry in Ysolde’s normally even voice. “And the Leashworm?”

“It hasn’t taken him.”

Ysolde visibly relaxed. “If he’s still in control, why hasn’t he used the Source?”

“I don’t know.”

Ysolde stood and paced and crouched again. “I want to meet her.”

“No,” Noak said. “The girl is my responsibility. You leave her to me.”

***

Elsa dreamed a twisted version of the escape across the Guardhouse bridge. Armed guards searched her cart, pressing their noses to the compartments, sniffing out her hidden things. They barked accusations at her. Elsa denied any wrongdoing, but the cart betrayed her. It melted away like blood red wax, revealing Finn’s broken body. The young boy pointed his crooked finger and cursed her, “The darkness will never release you.”

The stone beneath her feet turned to soft rubber that wrapped around her ankles. Elsa looked back at the guards and, to her horror, saw they’d changed. They were monsters, whose teeth gleamed and whose eyes burned.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was wrong to steal him.”

They advanced on her, and a thump filled the air, the frenzied beat of a drum that signalled her end. The sound beat, over and over. She looked at her hand and realised the sound was coming from her palm, from the three weeping cuts Noak had made. The monsters closed in. As their sharp claws ripped even more cuts into her flesh, she woke.

Elsa bolted upright, disoriented. Sweat coated her body, and her heart pounded in her chest. The banging continued, frantic and persistent.

On the sleeping shelf adjacent, her mother had also woken. The light from the smouldering hearth revealed Helena’s wide eyes and trembling hands. Her mother hugged the blanket to her chest. The wooden door shuddered beneath an angry fist, and they jumped.

Find a weapon, Elsa, her uncle’s voice urged. Bar the door. Move!

“Helena! Elsa! Open up.”

The sound of a familiar voice pulled Elsa from her stupor and sent her into a new panic.

Melker had come.

Her mother searched for her matches. “Elsa, let him in, quick.”

Elsa slipped from her bed and hurried down the creaking ladder in the dim firelight. She opened the door just as the candle caught. Melker waited on the other side; his expression grim. He barged into their nook and slammed the oak door in such a way that it didn’t latch. He crowded her.

“Thank the light, you’re okay,” he said.

“Yes,” Elsa said, his concerned tone confusing her. “I’m fine.”

Melker always seemed to take up more space than other people and their nook felt even more cramped and uncomfortable with him in it. She dodged his hand and moved as far away as she could. He was still too close. He was always too close.

Her mother descended from her own sleeping shelf. “What’s wrong?”

Melker didn’t answer. His frowning face followed Elsa across the tiny room.

“Melker? Tell us. What has happened?”

“There was an attack on the Guardhouse,” he said. “A group of prisoners have escaped.”

Her mother paled. “Are we in danger?”

“Perhaps. These escapees have weapons and they’ve gone into hiding in the Darkzone.”

Her mother pulled her tattered, grey shawl tighter around her shoulders. “Then thank you for this warning.”

Melker placed his dust-covered rifle on the table. Flakes of dirt scattered onto the clean surface. “I didn’t just come to warn you. Your daughter made a delivery to the Guardhouse earlier. I asked her to wait in my quarters, but when I returned Elsa was gone. I was worried.”

Her mother rounded on her. “Is this true?”

Elsa did her best to keep calm. “I got tired of waiting. I left before any of this happened. I didn’t see the attack.”

Melker’s dark eyes narrowed. He knew she was lying. He knew and he was playing with her, just like he always did.

“I don’t understand who would do such a thing?” Her mother asked, oblivious to the undercurrents in the room.

“The prisoners had outside help,” Melker said. “We suspect a rogue band of Smokers.”

He claimed one of the only two chairs in the room and her mother followed suit.

“What will you do next?” Helena asked.

“We’re searching.” Melker stretched out his legs. “But until we find those responsible, every man, woman and child in the Darkzone must be treated with suspicion.”

“What does that mean?” Elsa asked. “Are you going to arrest everyone?”

Melker tapped the table. “No, but there will be repercussions.”

“Such as?” Elsa asked, earning her a warning look from her mother.

“We’re shutting down the Night Port,” he said.

“But…what about Market Day? My stall. You can’t do that!”

Helena came to Melker’s defence. “Really, Elsa, I’m sure the captain has bigger things to worry about than your knick-knack stall.”

“There is no use being angry with me,” Melker said. “Blame these dissident Smokers, they are the cause of your trouble.”

Helena smiled at the captain. “Of course they are. And I’m sure you’ll have this matter resolved in no time.”

“We’ve got our dogs searching the Darkzone and we’ve already begun interrogating witnesses. It’s only a matter of time. They won’t escape.”

Melker rose and cornered her before she could move. He took her hand in his. “I will find them, Elsa. I can promise you that.”

He lifted his fingers to her face. Elsa turned away from the uninvited touch before contact could be made and his hand tightened around hers, just enough to be uncomfortable. Elsa pulled at his grasp until he let go.

“My mother and I thank you for the warning, but I imagine there is still much to be done tonight. The guards will be in need of their leader.”

His mouth jerked, as if he was fighting another frown, and Elsa thought he might not move back.

“As you say,” he said finally, and stepped away. Melker picked up his gun. “We’re watching the Night Port and the Alley. We’ll find these Smokers eventually and their lives will be forfeit. As for anyone caught helping them…well the numerous punishments for such a crime aren’t worth contemplating.”

Her mother tightened the shawl around her shoulders and followed him to the door.

“You’ve done us a great kindness, coming here tonight.”

Elsa had to listen to her mother’s outpourings of gratitude for several more moments before Melker departed.

Helena secured the latch. “You’re always so cold towards him.”

“Well, you’re warm enough for the two of us.”

“Someone has to show Melker his efforts are appreciated,” Helena snapped. “If it were left to you, we’d never see the poor fellow.”

Elsa collected the cloth and started wiping away the grime left on the table. “My relationship with Melker is not your concern.”

“When it has the power to change our fates, it is!”

Her mother grabbed a broom and swept the floor around the table with furious strokes until her anger was spent. Helena crumpled into her chair and sighed.

Elsa padded over to the hearth and stoked the fire. She put a kettle over the flames. While it boiled, she collected the tea tin from the cupboard and shook green leaves into two cups.

They sat across each other, both lost in their own thoughts. Her mother’s hands rested on the table. Her nails were clean, but short because she picked at them with obsessive regularity. Helena caught Elsa staring.

“No matter how many times I wash them they always feel dirty.” She slipped her hands beneath the table where Elsa couldn’t see them.

“I don’t think they’re unclean,” Elsa said. “You don’t have to hide them.”

Her mother gave her a tight smile. “That’s kind of you to say.”

Elsa wanted to say more.

She had a strong urge to confide in her mother, especially about the Blood Wolves. Finn had a high fever, even after she’d cleaned and stitched his wounds, and he still hadn’t woken. What’s more, there was no sign of Noak, which made her think he’d lost the battle against the guards. Elsa didn’t know what to do. She looked down at the scars decorating her left palm and cleared her throat to tell her mother everything.

The kettle whistled, sharp in the silence.

Her mother flinched and pulled her shawl tighter around her bony shoulders. She looked so tired. Elsa couldn’t bring herself to burden her further.

Elsa poured hot water over the tea and pushed a cup toward her mother. She let the leaves steep, but her mother was less patient. Helena downed her barely brewed tea in several scalding gulps. Grimacing, she returned the cup to the table and cleared her throat. An awkward stillness followed. Elsa didn’t know how to change it. Her mother pressed a long finger into a bead of water on the table and rubbed it back and forth.

“I’ve asked for another double shift at the plantation,” she said when the droplet had vanished. “I’ll need to leave in a couple of hours, I should sleep some more.”

Elsa blew the steam over the rim of her cup. “Okay.”

Her mother’s hazel eyes focused somewhere over Elsa’s shoulder. “I won’t be home for dinner.”

Helena rose, and Elsa watched her climb the ladder to her sleeping shelf from the corner of her eye. Helena lay down in her thin nightgown and pulled the blanket up to her chin, but she didn’t sleep. Instead, her mother remained on her back, staring at the stone roof and flicking her fingernails in thought.

Elsa listened below. Her tea turned tepid. She pushed it away, not even pretending to drink anymore.

She replayed their latest conversation and all the fights that at come before it on this topic. Elsa turned the problem in her mind, trying to be impartial, trying to see it as a simple puzzle to be solved. Two paths lay ahead, one that allowed Melker in and one that kept him out. Choosing the first would make her mother happy, but it would mean losing a part of herself. She would have to give in to Melker’s desires and push her own dreams and opinions away, perhaps forever. The second, harder path, meant rejecting Melker and fighting for her freedom. This choice would allow Elsa to do what she loved, but if she failed she’d condemn her mother and herself to a lifetime of poverty. It was such high stakes!

Once again, Elsa wished she could talk to her mother. Given the chance, she’d tell her all the fears she carried for the future, how everyday she worried she wouldn’t be strong enough to change their fate. If she could, Elsa would speak from the heart. She would tell her mother that she loved her, but she didn’t want to be Melker’s woman, not even to save them. Elsa would tell her how much she wanted to be free of the council and the Darkzone. How, more than anything, she wanted to leave behind her guilt and shame.

Elsa wanted her mother to reward her honesty in return. She wanted Helena to say she understood, to comfort her and tell her she wasn’t to blame for the life they led. Elsa wanted her mother to smile at her and say, “You were worth everything I gave up and I have no regrets.”

Elsa glanced at her mother’s sleeping shelf, the words on her tongue.

She said nothing, though, and got nothing in return.