And there’s that faint hum–

Connecting us–

(but I know it’s there and it ain’t affecting me–)

(it ain’t–)

“I regret what happened with David,” he says.

“You shot him,” I say. “It weren’t nothing that just happened.”

He nods. “I regret it more with every passing day. With every day that I’m with you, Todd. Every day, you make me better. Knowing that I’ve got you to watch what I do.” He lets out a sigh. “Even today, in what is arguably the greatest victory I’ve ever had, my first thought was, What will Todd think?”

He gestures to the darkening sky above us. “This world, Todd,” he says. “This world and how it talks, how loud its voice is.” He drifts a little, his eyes unfocused. “Sometimes it’s all you can hear, as it tries to make you disappear into it, to make you nothing.” He’s almost whispering now. “But then I hear your voice, Todd, and it brings me back.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about, so I just ask, “Have you had the cure for the bands all this time? Have you just been holding it back?”

“No,” he says. “I’ve been having my men work round the clock so I could save Viola for you, Todd. To show you how much you’ve come to mean to me.” His voice is forceful now, almost emoshunal. “You’ve redeemed me, Todd Hewitt. Redeemed me when no one else would have thought it possible.” He smiles again. “Or even desirable.”

I still don’t say nothing. Cuz he ain’t redeemable. Viola even said so.

But–

“They’ll test it,” he says. “They’ll find it’s a cure, and then you’ll see that I tell you the truth. It’s so important, I won’t even ask you to trust me.”

He waits again for me to say something. I still don’t.

“And now,” he says, slapping his hands on his thighs, “it’s time to start preparing for our first council meeting.”

He gives me a final look, then heads back into his tent. I get up after a minute and go over to Angharrad, tethered with Juliet’s Joy by my own tent, eating her heart’s delight of hay and apples.

She saved Viola’s life up on that hill. I ain’t never forgetting that.

And now the Mayor’s offering to do it down here.

And I wish I could believe him. I want to.

(redeemed–)

(but how far–?)

Boy colt, Angharrad says, nuzzling my chest.

Submit! Juliet’s Joy snaps, her eyes wide.

And before I can say anything, Angharrad snaps back SUBMIT! even louder.

And Juliet’s Joy lowers her head.

“Girl!” I say, with amazement. “That’s my girl.”

Boy colt, she says, and I hold onto her, feeling her warmth, her fuggy horse smell tickling my nose.

I hold onto her and I think about redempshun.

{VIOLA}

“You are not going to be on the council with the Spackle, Ivan,” Mistress Coyle says, Ivan clomping in behind her into the scout ship. “And you are not allowed in here.”

It’s the day after we came back from town, and I’m still on my bed, feeling worse than ever, the fever not responding at all to Mistress Lawson’s newest combination of antibiotics.

Ivan stands there a moment, looking defiantly at Mistress Coyle, at me, at Lee on the other bed, at Mistress Lawson where she’s removing Lee’s final bandages. “You’re still acting like you’re in charge here, Mistress,” Ivan says.

“I am in charge here, Mr Farrow,” Mistress Coyle seethes back at him. “As far as I know, no one’s appointed you their new Mistress.”

“Is that why people are returning to the town in droves?” he says. “Is that why half the women are already a-taking the Mayor’s new cure?”

Mistress Coyle spins round to Mistress Lawson. “What?”

“I only gave it to the dying, Nicola,” Mistress Lawson says, slightly sheepish. “If you have to choose between certain death and possible death, it’s no choice at all.”

“It’s not just the dying now,” Ivan says. “Not when the rest saw how well it works.”

Mistress Coyle ignores him. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Mistress Lawson looks down. “I knew how upset you’d be. I’ve tried to talk the others out of it–”

“Your own mistresses are doubting your authority,” Ivan says.

“You shut your mouth, Ivan Farrow,” Mistress Lawson barks.

Ivan licks his lips, sizing us all up again, and then he leaves, heading back to the crowd outside.

Mistress Lawson immediately starts apologizing. “Nicola, I’m so sorry–”

“No,” Mistress Coyle stops her. “You were right, of course. Those worst off, those who had nothing to lose . . .” She rubs her forehead. “Are people really going back to town?”

“Not as many as he said,” Mistress Lawson says. “But some.”

Mistress Coyle shakes her head. “He’s winning.”

And we all know she means the Mayor.

“You’ve still got the council,” I say. “You’ll be better at that than he is.”

She shakes her head again. “He’s probably planning something right now.” She sighs out through her nose, and then she leaves, too, without another word.

“He won’t be the only one planning something,” Lee says.

“And we’ve seen how well her plans have worked in the past,” I say.

“You two hush up,” Mistress Lawson snaps. “A lot of people are alive today because of her.”

She tears the last bandage off Lee’s face with more vigour than is strictly necessary. Then she bites her bottom lip and glances up at me. Over the bridge of Lee’s nose, there’s just bright pink scar tissue where his eyes used to be, the sockets covered now with livid skin, the blue eyes that used to look back gone for ever.

Lee can hear our silences. “Is it that bad?”

“Lee–” I start to say, but his Noise says he isn’t ready and he changes the subject.

“Are you going to take the cure?” he asks.

And I see all the feelings he has for me right at the front of his Noise. Pictures of me, too. Way more beautiful than I ever could be.

But the way he’ll see me for ever now.

“I don’t know,” I say.

And I really don’t know. I’m not getting better, not at all, and the convoy is still weeks away, if they’ll even be able to help when they get here. Fatal, I keep thinking, and now it doesn’t just feel like Mistress Coyle trying to scare me. I wonder if I’m one of those women Mistress Lawson mentioned who have to choose between certain death and possible death.

“I don’t know,” I say again.

“Viola?” Wilf says, appearing in the doorway.

“Ah,” Lee says, his Noise reaching out to Wilf’s, almost unwillingly seeing what Wilf’s seeing–

Seeing his own scarred eyes.

“Phew,” he whistles, but you can hear the nervousness, the fake bravery. “That’s not so bad. You two made it seem like I was practically Spackle.”

“Ah brought Acorn back from town,” Wilf says to me. “Stabled him wi’ my oxes.”

“Thank you, Wilf,” I say.

He nods. “And young Lee there,” he says. “If ya ever need me to see for ya, ya just gotta say.”

There’s a flood of surprised and touched feeling in Lee’s Noise, bright enough for Wilf to see his answer.

“Hey, Wilf?” I say, getting an idea, one that feels better by the second.

“Yeh?” he says.

“How would like you be on the new council?”

[TODD]

“It’s a ruddy great idea,” I say, watching Viola’s face in my comm. “Every time they wanna do something stupid, Wilf won’t even say no, he’ll just say what we should obviously do instead.”

“That’s what I thought,” she says and doubles up coughing again.

“How are them tests coming along?” I say.

“The women who’ve taken it haven’t shown any problems so far, but Mistress Coyle wants to do more checks.”

“She ain’t never gonna approve it, is she?”

Viola don’t disagree. “What do you think about it?”

I take a long deep breath. “I don’t trust him,” I say, “no matter how much he says he’s redeemed.”

“He says that?”

I nod.