BLUEMANTLE by Karen Langston (if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud TXT) 📕

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“I didn’t think you were going to come back,” said Chase. He was sat on the floor in the hide, knees up, numb. He had no idea if it was night or day. The measureless time since Wella had left had opened up into a single, gaping chasm, deep and lamentably dark. A hole for soul-searching.

“Neither did I,” said Wella, sitting on the lower bunk, her back straight.

“But you’re here. Why?”

“If you care for Ursel, you’ll want to help her. If you’ve anything more than the slightest trace of regret for what you’ve done, you won’t stand back and let her die for nothing.”

“Of course I want to help her. I’ll do anything; anything to make up for what I’ve…” He shook his head, his face drawn.

“That’s why I’m back. I have to find a way to save her. And to salvage the Scene. Strikes me I might need your help to do that.”

“Anything.”

She moved to sit at the table, her taut features unsoftened by the lamp’s amber glow. “Get up off the floor and sit here,” she said, nodding to the chair opposite her. “Let’s start with what I’ve missed while I’ve been away. Talk to me. Tell me what’s been happening. Tell me everything you know.”

Chase hauled himself off the floor and sat opposite Wella. He laid his hands on the table and studied them as he spoke, addressing cracked knuckles in favour of more judgemental company. “First, there was the swallow hole,” he began. He rattled off the developments of the last three and a half weeks, barely pausing for breath, as if a running start was the only way he could bear to admit his part in their escalation. “The A raided Cole’s quarters. Ursel’s convinced they took him; he’d left a note or something, saying he’d be there. Although the A didn’t know who Cole was, they knew all about Bluemantle. Ursel said there’s no way he’ll break. She’s certain the A will know that, so they won’t even try to keep him alive. She said that, without Bluemantle, the Scene won’t survive. She said she couldn’t stand by and let that happen. She’s made up her mind. She’s determined to take on Bluemantle.”

“What?” Wella’s eyes grew wide.

“She said that she knows where Cole’s workshop is and where the drops are. She knows who taught Cole encryption. She believes that, if she can keep Bluemantle alive, the Scene stands a chance of surviving.”

“That’s it. We have to get her out of there. She won’t tell them shit, I know it. If, by some miracle, Cole’s still alive, they’ll have him in Itherside Hold. There’s no way of getting him out. But, as far as the A are concerned, Ursel’s just one among hundreds they arrested. She won’t mean anything to them.”

Horror drained the blood from Chase’s face; sweat beaded on his brow.

Distracted by her glimpse of hope, Wella didn’t notice. “I’ve no idea how,” she said, “but if we could get her out, we’d not only be saving her. We’d be saving everything.”

Chase’s panic drew a curtain across the truth. “Whatever influence the A had over me,” he said, breathless, “whatever they did to control me, that’s gone. I still don’t give a damn about the Scene. I won’t fight for Bluemantle. But I will do anything, anything, to save Ursel.”

Wella stared at Chase, attempting to read his expression in mute inquisition.

“Look,” he said. “I know you’ve no reason to trust me. I’m surprised you’re even speaking to me.”

“If I felt there was a choice—”

“But I swear I’m done with the A. I want to make amends. I can’t undo what I’ve done, but I can do the right thing from now on. And that means helping Ursel.” He held up his hands to his temples, his eyes searching hopelessly. “But how? We can’t exactly storm the Complex, break in to get her out.”

“Of course we can’t. We need help. That’s why I’m going back.”

“Underground? No. That’s crazy.”

“It’s necessary.”

“Why? What can they do? They’re hiding under a mountain, for crow’s sake.”

“Don’t underestimate them.”

“Then I’m going with you.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“I’m serious. I have to help Ursel. I don’t care about the risk.”

“I don’t give a shit about the risk to you. I’m thinking about the Troubadours. You’re an informer to the fucking A. And they’re watching you. You think I’m going to take you underground and have you lead them directly to their so-called Music Makers? You’re out of your mind.”

“I’ve told you. I’m finished with the A.” He held out his hands, palms up. “How can I make you believe me?”

“I’ll tell you how—”

“Please. Anything.”

“If you seriously want to put things right, you’ve got to face up to what you’ve done wrong. You’ve got to be honest about it. Admit the truth and face the flak.”

Chase swallowed hard, tasting the rancid bile of denial. “I’ve told you everything.”

“Not me. Brann.”

“What…? No—”

“Admitting the truth is only meaningful if it matters who you’re admitting it to.”

“He’ll hate me.”

“With good reason.”

“I can’t tell him… I did it for him in the first place. He couldn’t cope. It was the only way to get him out.”

“Don’t make excuses. You know full well that won’t hold with him. He would never have wanted you to be a grass on his account. It doesn’t matter why you did it. And you know that. That’s why you don’t want to tell him.”

“Please—”

“I’m not doing this out of spite. What do you think it took me to come back here? After what you’ve done? I can’t forgive you, but I need to know I can trust you going forward. I decided that the only way is for you to admit what you’ve done to someone who really matters. In the absence of Ursel, the only other person is Brann.”

Chase gripped the table, his eyes wide.

Wella rose and climbed up to the raised bunk. She lay down on her back, closed her eyes