Fearsome Dreamer (28 page)

‘But you're here now. You came to me. You visited me so many times.'

‘Yes. But I can visit you because I know Capital City. I lived there in Red House, remember? We can Jump to places we've been before. But I don't know where Areline is, I've never even been to her home city. I wouldn't know how to start.' A satisfied smile spread across his face. ‘I'm learning, though. White isn't the only Talent expert. World has the tools and the means. You'll see.'

She knew she'd flinched when he said his name, and she knew he'd felt it.

She wanted to believe that she couldn't imagine White the way Wren had painted him, but it was actually quite easy. When she re-examined his behaviour at the ball, it became obvious that he really had danced with her out of some bizarrely misplaced sense of propriety. That the endless impatience he showed around her was because she irritated him, not because he was nervous. That he found her strange, and not in a fascinating way. That she was just a child to him, a student with little ability and less brain. What interest could he possibly have in her?

‘It's late,' said Wren. ‘We should get you back.'

She should have been surprised or worried, but could only feel enormously tired. She'd probably missed her first lesson of the day already – would they be looking for her? Would they care?

‘We must go back to the area we started from,' he said. ‘I can't Jump from here.'

‘More walking?'

‘I'm afraid so, my sweet. I'm sorry. I didn't think we'd be here so long.'

She looked up. ‘Can we leave okay? That man wants your pen.'

‘Don't worry. If I try to go without giving it to him he'll catch up with us soon enough.'

Wren was right. They hadn't even reached the door to the tunnel when he reappeared behind them, as if from nowhere.

‘Had yer fun, dint you?' he said. ‘Payment's due.'

‘Of course,' said Wren. ‘I've deactivated the authority tag. Now anyone can use it.' He took it from his pocket. ‘The controls are easy enough. Watch.'

Rue watched the man's creased face change from deep suspicion to wonder. She shifted uncomfortably, wishing they could leave right away. To her left was the woman who had walked with them to the hall; the prostitute. She smiled at Rue, who felt bad for her earlier attitude towards her.

‘Can I ask you something?' said Rue to her.

The woman tugged on a rat-tail of hair and shrugged. ‘You can ask.'

‘Do you remember him?' she said, shifting her eyes over to Wren, who was still giving instructions on the pen.

The woman laughed. She had bad teeth. ‘Hard to forget someone with silver eyes, and so no.'

‘I don't think he would have had silver eyes back then.'

She shrugged again. ‘He knows a lot about how it is down here. If you ha'nt been here before, you wouldn't know.'

‘Is this the Fourexgee group, in this hall?'

She nodded.

‘Sorry,' said Rue. ‘I just wanted to ask.'

‘Ain't my business. I used to check up on everyone, I did, for safety. You can't feel bad for wanting to know the truth about people.'

This should have made her feel better, but it didn't.

Wren finished and walked over, taking her hand. The man who had taken the pen gave neither of them a second glance, but turned and walked off, his new prize clutched tightly in his hand. Rue watched him go. No one was paying them much attention; though she supposed they'd be followed again once they left the hall.

‘Rue?' said Wren.

‘Tired.'

‘Come on. We'll be back to your bed in no time.'

They started to walk.

White's next lesson with Rue was going to be totally, utterly normal.

He would not treat her differently. He would give her no cause to feel uncomfortable. He would do nothing out of the ordinary. And maybe, if he admitted it, he would be testing her, to see how she behaved. It was in line with Frith's advice, even though he tried not to care about that. And it was in line with his own careful nature. It was
not
fear.

When she arrived, it started as it always had, though his heart was hammering even more than it usually did around her, and his hands were annoyingly clammy. She walked down to his desk, looking around as if there would be something new to see every time. He had been careful that the light was at its normal level, and that he dressed and appeared as usual. He was confident in his voice, but not his eyes. He couldn't avoid her gaze, as that would be too telling; but he could limit it so that he caught her eye-line less.

‘I saw Lea in the hallway as she came out,' she said when she reached him. ‘You've changed your lesson time with her. She never used to be before me.'

‘You are correct,' he said. He was pleased with his voice; it sounded normal. ‘She requested the change.'

‘T'will be to spend this evening with Lufe,' she said, with a throwaway air. ‘They're courting but no one knows it.'

‘Then I wonder why you tell me,' he said, before he could stop himself.

‘Don't know. What do you think about that?'

She was watching him.

He realised that he might not be the only one conducting a test. Everything could rest on his next answer – the trouble was, he didn't know which one would have the effect he wanted. He didn't even know what effect he wanted.

‘I think that whatever my students may do in their private life is and should remain private,' he said. ‘As long as it does not affect their work.'

She sat, folding her hands on her lap. ‘I agree,' she said seriously, then fell silent. She was frowning.

White took a quick review. Was she behaving strangely? In truth, he couldn't tell. She was so unpredictable to him that he wasn't too sure what normal would look like on her. She seemed a little shy, but maybe she was tired.

‘We should begin. Do you have your week list of dreams prepared?'

‘Yes.'

‘Please speak on them in order of importance. Do not forget the date.'

‘I had one about the ball.'

His heart spiked. Her voice sounded defiant.

‘When did you have it?' he said.

‘The night after.'

‘Then it is of little importance, just your mind reviewing events. Why did you place it first?'

‘It's important to me.'

He was sure that everything showed on his face. Everything.

Concentrate.

‘What of people?' he tried. ‘What people have you dreamed of?'

She looked away, irritation on her face. ‘Why does it matter?'

That was a strange reaction.

‘It always matters.'

She brushed it off. ‘I've dreamed of many people.'

He had no idea why he said what he said next. No idea whatsoever, other than the fact that Wren had been on his mind recently. It just came out.

‘Anyone with silver eyes?'

Her face flickered in alarm. Just for a moment. Just right there.

His throat squeezed in fear.

‘You saw him,' he said. His voice was flat with shock.

She said nothing.

No, no, no, this isn't happening.

‘Tell me when,' he said, resisting the urge to shout at her. ‘Tell me what he said.'

She shot him a thunderous look, and he felt a sharp pang of fear.

‘You danced the Intentional with me,' she said. ‘Someone told me what that means. Is it true?'

‘Zelle Vela, please. The silver-eyed boy. Tell me of him.'

‘They said that it's a declaration of interest. That if two people dance it, it means they like each other and wish to court,' she said.

White felt his heart shiver. He stared at her openly, and the longer he stared, the more dangerous it became. Her eyes were challenging him to look away.

He wondered if they were falling in love.

He wondered if this would be the moment he would look back on for ever, replaying it over and over in his head.

‘Well?' she demanded. ‘What do you say? Do you wish to court me?'

‘Zelle Vela, stop.'

‘Why? Do I behave improperly?'

‘Yes.'

‘Well, you started it,' she snapped, and then lapsed into silence.

‘Why are you angry?' he said.

‘Why?!'

‘Yes!'

Their voices were loud. They were arguing. It was rushing forwards, escalating, moving towards something frightening and unstoppable. He did not want this. He wanted her to sit there in silent encouragement while he told her everything he was afraid of; everything he felt.

Rue tried very hard not to speak. He was falling, spilling like dropped water. He was an open wound. He was waiting for her to make him admit it. Maybe he wanted to admit it. She watched him open and felt a sort of glee, a power over him that she had never had before. She sat back.

‘You won't answer me,' she said. ‘I don't want to be here if you won't even tell me the truth, and maybe I don't want to be here at all. So that's all there is to it.'

He gazed at her for a moment. ‘Why do you not want to be here?' he said eventually.

Here it was, the opening she'd needed to play a card from her hand. This was where she would look back and know that this was the moment she could have stopped it. But she didn't want to. She wanted it out, like a poison. And she wanted to break his barriers, to hurt him and see him hurt so that she would know he was human, and could feel pain.

‘I know about your history,' she said. ‘I don't want to get better than you at anything, because I know what would happen if I did.'

His face was still. She watched intently.

Now she would know if Wren had been straight with her or not.

‘What did he tell you?' said White. His face was carefully composed, but his voice had dropped to a thin, furious note.

‘Things that haven't ever come up before. About a friend of yours who you betrayed, because you wanted his girl. And about how you felt threatened by him because his Talent was so good. So you tried to kill him. And then you ruined his life.'

White had frozen.

She couldn't believe it. Every word was true. He wasn't even defending himself.

‘I actually thought that it was exaggeration,' she said. ‘But I can see now that it wasn't. And I wonder if you even have any Talent at all? Is that a lie, too? Do you boss your students like you know what you're talking about, but secretly you hate us because we have something you never will?'

One moment he was there in his chair, behind his desk, yards away from her.

And then he was not.

It was that fast.

The sudden displacement of air in front of her made her hair whip back and her clothes billow. He was standing, his face inches from hers, his hands resting on the arms of her chair. He had her surrounded.

‘Is this Talented enough for you?' he hissed.

Rue shrank back in her seat.

This close, his skin was luminous and his eyes freezing.

What he had just done was impossible.

Impossible
.

And horrifying.

She could feel his breath on her lips.

Then he was gone again, reappearing in the corner of the room. He made it look like nothing.

Disappear. Reappear.

His gaze was on the far wall.

Rue was too shocked to speak.

‘He lies.' White turned, agitated. ‘But you will believe him over me. Of course you will! Do not believe what he tells you. I know what he is doing. He will take you away from me. Do not go with him. I implore you.'

He stared at her, but she couldn't see what she needed to see. The warmth, the wit and passion of Wren. She trusted warmth. She couldn't trust cold.

‘Please,' he said. There was an urgency in his voice that frightened her. Everything he was doing was frightening her. ‘Please. He will try to take you away from here. Do not go.'

‘So tell me why I should stay,' said Rue.

White was silent.

‘This place is full of liars. I've been in the tunnels underneath Capital. I know all the little secrets of Angle Tar. He showed me. The rich are rich and the poor stay poor, with no hope of anything. The travel law keeps Angle Tar ignorant of the outside world. To keep us stupid. We can't go to foreign lands, but foreigners can come here. Why don't anybody think that's strange? We're so backward, the rest of the world probably laughs at us.
Laughs
. He's shown me these amazing, incredible things. Things that change lives. But you won't never see these things in Angle Tar, will you? This country is stupid. This stupid, ignorant little island.'

His mouth was open, but he said nothing. He didn't even have the courage to shout at her, and tell her she was wrong.

‘I hate lies,' said Rue. ‘I really, really hate 'em. No one's ever thought me worth telling the truth to. People I trusted … they lied. You lied. Everyone here lies. Why should I stay?'

Still White said nothing. Rue felt a bitter triumph.

‘You can't even give me
one reason
,' she said.

Somewhere very deep inside her, she knew that if he would only touch her, she might start to feel differently. She was crying out for him to touch her. To give her a reason. But he wouldn't. Because he was a part of Angle Tar, a part of inwardness, where passion and curiosity were sins, where expression was forbidden, where you couldn't even discard your belief in gods that had never helped you without fear of being targeted.

‘Fuck you, then,' she said.

He had lost her.

She cared nothing for him. She didn't even care enough to appreciate what he'd done. What a monumental risk he'd taken. What a bad, horrifying mistake he'd made. He wanted her to go, right now, because it would be better if he never saw her again. He would burn her from him and start again. She could go. She could go and have her new life in World. He would never be enough for her anyway. He was nothing.

‘Just get out,' he said. ‘Just leave.'

Rue stood. She was trembling.

Dismissed, imperiously, just as it was the first time they had met.

Her fury came then, almost too much to bear. She wanted to twist the knife for what he'd done, for what he'd made her feel and how he'd played with her and then thrown her away.

‘He makes me feel alive,' she said. ‘You make me feel dead.'

As soon as it was out, she took it back. It was monstrously untrue. White made her feel panicked, alarmed, nervous, upset, awed, heart-poundingly hopeful; he made her feel more alive than anyone. But it was too late. His face had changed – his eyes were bruised with misery. She had managed it at last, and she felt nothing but shame at herself. She ran from the shame, slammed his door behind her and ran, away from the pain and the moment when he had been so close to her mouth he could have kissed her, the thought that made her feel like her heart would burst.