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

man. “If this is true, the city is lost. The followers left behind, they’ll succumb. They won’t even know to resist. They’ll see no reason to challenge. The A will control a city of docile puppets.”

“There’s more,” said Dent. “Tomorrow, they plan to gas the caves beneath Lyun Mountain, along with other caves that they’ve located throughout the Heights. They think you’re still down there. They tortured Ursel to find out where so that they can take you alive. Without her, they’re down to last resorts: flush you out and kill you with toxic gas.”

“Estrin…” said one of the players.

“I warned him,” said Dent. “When I came looking for you. But he wouldn’t leave his post.”

“We left him in the belief he would be safe where he hid,” said Bend Sinister, his expression grave. “We took precautions. There’s no way he can be found. But poisonous gas…” He shook his head.

His keyboardist stepped forward, hesitant.

“Yes? Please, speak,” said Bend Sinister.

“We have to save him,” she said. “We can’t know his fate and yet do nothing.”

Bend Sinister nodded. “I agree. We must send word, fast. We must also alert him to the Authority’s plan to spike the spring water. He could return to the city, warn the remaining followers at the very least. Even without Bluemantle, there must be ways he can reach them.”

“Yes,” said the mohawk man. “It’s dangerous, but there are places where we gather. We can’t talk openly, but we can pass messages.”

“Follower, what is your name?”

“Nial, sir,” he said, bowing before Bend Sinister, still rattled by the experience of addressing a Troubadour.

“Nial. Would you do this for us? Would you go back to Estrin, tonight? Tell him to leave his hide before they gas the caves and bid him return to the city to warn our followers? With fortune’s favour, he can raise the alarm before too many fall under the influence of this drug.” He looked squarely at the young man. “We place no pressure upon you. This is a request, which you are free to decline.”

“I will be proud to serve you and the Scene,” replied Nial, head high, heart racing.

Bend Sinister turned to Pale Dexter and Chief. “I apologise, I am ahead of myself. We have not discussed this.”

Pale Dexter nodded slowly. “No, we have not. But your proposal is sound. And, if this brave man is prepared to act as messenger, then I believe it is a plan we are wise to follow. I know I have been pushing for us to move on, to achieve greater distance between us and our pursuers. However, this here,” he gestured to the clearing and the shadows beyond, “will afford us safe cover in the short term. Even if our followers are unable to leave Wydeye to join us on our journey, I believe it is our duty to know that they are safe before we move on.”

Bend Sinister raised his eyebrows. He stepped forward and placed his hand on Pale Dexter’s shoulder. “I admire your loyalty to those loyal to you.” He turned to Chief. “Are you in agreement?”

“Without hesitation,” she said.

“It is decided then. Nial, our players will provide you with a horse and supplies for the journey. You have far to travel; you will need to leave as soon as possible if you are to make it in time. Do you remember the way back to the shaft?”

Nial opened his mouth as if to respond, then hesitated.

“I can draw you a map,” said Dent. “I would offer to go myself, but—”

“But I wouldn’t allow it,” interrupted Bend Sinister. “You must rest. You’ve done enough already. We need you well.”

Dent dropped his head, lacking the strength to protest. Then a thought occurred to him. “There was something else. I meant to tell you on my return. I don’t know if it has any bearing at all, but I feel compelled to share it with you.”

“What is it?”

“On the journey back, Ursel was slipping in and out of consciousness. Whenever she came around, she never spoke other than repeating one word. A name. ‘Wella’.”

Bend Sinister’s other players and several of their followers looked to each other. His guitarist stepped forward. “Wella was one of ours. She recently made the move underground to join our retinue.”

“I know Wella, too,” said Nial. “She’s a close friend of Ursel’s.”

“There was something in the way she said the name,” said Dent. “Urgent. Insistent.”

“However abstract, we can’t afford to misjudge the relevance,” said Bend Sinister. “Nial. When you pass the message about the water to Estrin, also tell him this: Ursel is alive and safe in our care. Once he has carried out his task in the city, tell him we bid him come join us here. With Wella.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Drayloc Market baked beneath the midday sun. Citizens realised the clearing of the dust cloud came at a scorching cost. Wella and Naylor took shelter in a slither of shade, ignoring the calls of beckoning barkers.

“We can’t talk here,” said Wella. She tipped her head in the direction of The Raven.

Although busy, the tavern held a subdued hum that made conversation possible. Wella commandeered two stools in a far corner, while Naylor battled at the bar. He returned with two Kitsons and a bowl of spiced barley breads.

“So, you’ve had a couple of days to think about it,” said Wella. “Are you on board?”

“Of course. I told Chase I was.”

“I just wanted to check. He’s fired up about the whole idea. His passion is persuasive, but you might have had second thoughts once away from his influence.”

“Not at all. I’m not convinced it’ll work, mind. The theory is all well and good, but convincing people to take the risk? To stand up against the A, knowing the consequence? It’s a massive ask.” He paused, shaking his head. Then he sat up straight, shoulders back, and smiled. “That said, I know a lot of pissed-off people who haven’t lost their fighting spirit. They’re saying the A have gone too far this