The Map of Bones

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Zoe hung back in the doorway. I saw her mouth tighten as she watched the fidgeting of Xander’s long fingers, ceaselessly kneading the air. And I remembered what she’d said to me, about how the visions affected me: I’ve seen it happen before.

Piper stilled one of Xander’s hands with his own.

‘It’s good to see you again, Xander.’

The boy opened his mouth, but no words came. In the silence, I could almost hear the discordant jangling of his mind.

‘Do you have any news for us?’ Piper asked.

Xander leaned forward, until his face was close to Piper’s. He spoke in a whisper. ‘Forever fire. Hot noise. Burning light.’ The words chased one another out.

‘He’s seeing the blast more than ever,’ Sally said. ‘Day and night, now.’

‘He never used to be as bad as this,’ Piper said. ‘What’s changed?’

‘Move over,’ I said to Piper.

‘Maze of bones,’ muttered Xander.

I looked up at Sally. ‘What does that mean?’

‘Search me,’ she said. ‘Sometimes he talks almost normally. Other times, he comes up with stuff like that. The fire, most of the time. Sometimes stuff about bones.’

‘Noises in the maze of bones,’ Xander said.

His eyes had stilled a little, staring abstractedly at the corner of the ceiling. I placed my hands on the sides of his head, and stared into his eyes.

I didn’t want to force myself into his mind. I still remembered how it had felt when The Confessor had tried to probe my thoughts in the Keeping Rooms. After each session with her, my mind had felt like a dollhouse that had been picked up and shaken, everything scattered and rattling. I understood Zoe’s fury, when she learned that I’d stumbled into her dreams. But I had to admit that I was also curious about what I might discover from Xander. I was desperate to see if what he saw was the same as what I saw. To confirm, I hoped, that I was not alone in the visions of fire that my mind hurled at me. If I was searching for anything in the jumble of his mind, I suppose it was a glimpse of myself.

His eyes remained blank as I groped towards his thoughts. Occasionally his mouth seemed to be trying to form words, but they didn’t take shape. Stillborn, they stayed at his lips, empty shapes incapable of sound.

His mind was burnt out. Everything charred and gone, broken down to ashes and dust. This was what remained, after the flames had exploded too many times in his mind: ash, and smoke, and words sheared of their meanings, rattling loose in his head.

‘It’s the visions of the blast that’ve done this to him,’ I said.

It wasn’t the strangeness of his state that unsettled me, but its familiarity. I’d felt it myself, this madness, scratching around the edge of my mind like a rat in the rafters. It was always there. At times, particularly in the Keeping Rooms, or when the blast visions had become more and more frequent, it had been emboldened, almost crept into sight.

‘Flash. Fire. Forever fire,’ Xander blurted again. He didn’t say the words – they uttered him. As each word burst from him, he convulsed. He looked startled at the sounds emerging from his own mouth.

‘You know it happens to seers, eventually,’ I said, trying to keep my voice even. I had lived with that knowledge for as long as I’d known what I was. But encountering the residue of Xander’s mind still left me with a chill in my guts, my fists curled so tightly that my nails cut into my palms.

He was rocking backwards and forwards now, his arms wrapped around his knees. I recognised, in his scrunched body, that futile attempt to hide from the visions, as if making yourself smaller would somehow spare you. I remembered curling like that myself, as a child, with my head tucked down towards my chest and my eyes clamped closed. It didn’t work, of course. Xander was right: Forever fire. It would never go away. The blast would haunt all of us seers, always. But why did it burst into our dreams more often now, enough to drive Xander to this?

‘Let him rest,’ Sally said, stepping forward and cupping Xander’s chin in her hand. She lifted the blanket that had fallen from him, and tucked it again around his shoulders.

As we were leaving, he opened his eyes and, for a moment, fixed them on me.

‘Lucia?’

I looked at Piper for an explanation. He’d glanced up at Zoe, but she didn’t meet his eyes. She crossed her arms in front of her. Her face shut down.

‘Lucia?’ said Xander again.

Piper looked up at me. ‘He must be able to tell you’re a seer. Lucia was a seer too.’

The older seer from the island, branded. She’d drowned, Piper had said. A shipwreck in a storm, on the way to the island.

‘Lucia’s gone,’ Piper said to Xander. ‘The ship went down more than a year ago. You know that already.’ His voice was too brisk, too loud: his attempt to sound casual was jarring.

We left Xander gazing out the window, watching the sea swap its colours with the sky. His hands twitched and twisted constantly. I thought of Leonard’s hands on his guitar strings. Xander’s hands were kept busy on the unseen instrument of his madness.

‘What will you do with him?’ I asked Sally, when she’d closed the door to the bedroom.

‘Do?’ She laughed. ‘You say it like I have choices. As if there’s anything I could do, other than just keep surviving. Keep him safe.’

Even from the next room, I found Xander’s presence exhausting. The churning of his mind, from behind the closed door, made me feel seasick. When Sally sent us out to gather firewood and mushrooms, I felt guilty at my own relief.

Piper and I knelt together at the base of one of the trees, where mushrooms clustered thickly. Zoe was gathering wood nearby. Piper spoke quietly, so that she wouldn’t hear.

‘You’ve seen Xander – what being a seer has done to him.’ He looked up at Zoe, twenty yards away, and dropped his voice even further. ‘It happened to Lucia too.’ At the mention of the dead seer’s name, his voice caught, his eyelids closed. For a single moment I felt as though we were standing on different islands, and the tide had swallowed the neck of land between them. ‘Towards the end,’ he added. Then he looked quickly back at me and went on. ‘Now you’re having more and more visions of the blast, too. So why hasn’t it happened to you yet?’

I had often wondered this myself. There were times when I’d felt my sanity coming loose like a bad tooth. When the flames erupted within me again and again, I had wondered how it was that I still managed to function. Now I’d seen how the words bubbled out of Xander like water from an overheated pan, and wondered how long it would take before my own visions brought me to the boil. Did I have years, or months? When it happened, would I know?

When I asked myself why it hadn’t happened already, I always came up with the same answer, though it wasn’t an answer that I could share with Piper: it was Zach. If there was some streak of certainty in me, something that held me together when the visions tried their best to tear me apart – then it had its roots in Zach. If there was a strength in me, it was my stubborn belief in him that had formed it. Zach had been the steady point in my life. Not a force for good – I’d seen too much of what he’d done to believe that. But a force, nonetheless. I knew there was no part of me that had not been shaped by him, or against him. And if I allowed myself to slip into madness, then I could neither stop him nor save him. It would all be over.

*

Back inside, we helped prepare the meal. Occasionally, from the bedroom, we could hear Xander hurling syllables at the night air. Bones and fire slipped under the door. He might be mad, but he saw clearly enough what the blast had made of our world. Bones and fire.

‘How long have you been living here?’ I asked Sally, as I helped her pluck the brace of pigeons that she’d thrown on to the table. With each tug at the feathers the greying flesh stretched, leaving a clammy film on my fingers.

‘Years. Decades. Time gets slippery, when you’re as old as me.’

It’s slippery for seers, too, I wanted to say. I was jerked between different times, without any say in it. After each vision I’d wake, gasping, as if the future were a lake I’d been dragged down into, before surfacing back in the present.

‘I’ve thought about leaving here, sometimes. It’s no place for an old woman. I used to be able to scramble down to the shore and do some fishing. These days I just set snares, and grow what I can. I never want to eat another potato, that’s for sure. But it’s safe here. The Council’s looking for a lame old woman. I figure this place isn’t going to be an obvious choice.’

‘And your twin?’

‘Look at me,’ she said. ‘And believe me, I’m even older than I look. If there’d been registrations when Alfie and I were split, no doubt the Council would have got to me that way. But things were different then. They didn’t have us all pinned down in their records, the way they do now. And wherever he is, my brother’s had the sense to lie low, take care of himself.’

She got up and crossed to the stove. When she passed Piper, her hand paused for a while on his broad shoulder. When he first came here, as a child, his hand would have been as small as hers. Smaller, probably. Now she had to stretch up to reach his shoulder, and her hand rested there like a moth on a bough.

When we ate, Xander sat at one end of the table, swinging his legs and staring at the ceiling. Piper carved the pigeons, severing the wings with a long, curved knife. Watching him, it was hard not to think of all the knives he’d wielded. The things he’d seen, and the things he’d done.

But the meal dragged me back to the room. Sally had stuffed the pigeons with sage and lemon, and the meat was soft and moist. It bore no resemblance to the meat we’d eaten on the road, cooked quickly over furtive fires, the outer flesh scorched and the middle still cold and springing with blood. We didn’t talk much, until there was nothing left but a forlorn cluster of bones, and the moon had climbed past the window to hang above us.

‘Piper told me about how you infiltrated the Council,’ I said to Sally. ‘But he didn’t tell me why you stopped.’

She was silent.

‘They were exposed,’ Zoe said. ‘Not Sally, but the two other infiltrators working with her.’

‘What happened to them?’ I said.

‘They were killed,’ said Piper abruptly, standing and beginning to gather the plates.

‘The Council killed them?’ I said.

Zoe’s lips thinned. ‘He didn’t say that.’

‘Zoe,’ cautioned Piper.

‘The Council would’ve killed them, eventually,’ said Sally. ‘Given how much they hated infiltrators, they would never have let them live, even when they’d finished torturing them for information. They didn’t get a chance, though, with Lachlan – he managed to poison himself first. We had capsules to take if we were caught. But they searched Eloise before she had a chance, and took her capsule away.’

‘So what happened to her?’

Piper stopped clearing away. He and Zoe were both staring at Sally. Sally looked straight at me.

‘I killed her,’ she said.

CHAPTER 10 (#ulink_bd9efcf1-e333-5598-a2f1-052124f2f7b6)

‘Sally,’ said Piper quietly. ‘You don’t have to talk about this.’

‘I’m not ashamed,’ she said. ‘I know what they’d have done to her. It would have been worse than death – far worse – and they’d have killed her at the end of it anyway. We all knew the deal. We were the heart of the whole intelligence network – if we cracked, half the resistance would fall. All our contacts, all the safehouses, all the information we’d gathered and passed on over the years. It would have been disastrous. That’s why we had the capsules.’

She was still looking at me. I wanted to tell her that I understood. But it was clear that she didn’t need my understanding. She wasn’t looking for forgiveness, not from me or anyone else.

Sally’s choice had been harder even than Kip’s, perhaps, because it wasn’t her own death that she had to bestow. I thought, again, of Piper’s words to Leonard: There are different kinds of courage.

‘They were denounced in the main Council Hall,’ she said. ‘I was up in the gallery when it happened, talking to some Councillors. Lachlan and Eloise never had a chance: the soldiers were waiting to swoop. There were at least four soldiers to each of them. Lachy got to his capsule as soon as they had him cornered – he had it on a strap around his neck, like all of us. But after he started frothing and thrashing, they realised what had happened, and pinned Eloise down.’

Her voice was steady, but when she pushed her plate aside, the knife and fork clattered slightly with her hand’s tremor.

‘I was waiting for them to come for me,’ she said. ‘I’d slipped my own capsule into my mouth – had it in between my teeth, ready to bite down.’ I could see her tongue move to the side of her mouth, tasting the memory. ‘But it never happened. I was braced for it – if anyone had been watching me, they’d have seen that something was going on. But nobody was. Everyone was just staring at all the chaos down below. For a moment I just stood there, watching what was happening. Lachy was on the floor by then, thrashing around, blood coming out of his mouth. It’s not an easy death, poison. And there were four soldiers holding Eloise, arms pinned to her sides. I was staring down like everyone else. And I realised the soldiers weren’t coming for me. Whoever found out about Lachy and Eloise hadn’t discovered there were three of us.’

Piper placed his hand on her arm. ‘You don’t need to go through this all again.’

She gestured at me. ‘If she wants to throw her lot in with the resistance, she needs to know what happens. What it’s really like.’ She turned and looked squarely at me. ‘I killed her,’ she said again. ‘I threw my knife, got her in the chest. It would have been a quicker death than Lachy’s. But I couldn’t stay to watch. It’s only because of all the chaos, and because I was up on the gallery, that I managed to get out of there at all, and even then it meant going through a stained glass window and down a thirty foot drop.’