The Knife of Never Letting Go

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” comes a voice across the square, hardly even raising itself to a shout.

I look up.

Coming round the side of the church is a single horse.

With a single rider.

“No,” I whisper.

No.

No.

“Yes, Todd,” says Mayor Prentiss. “I’m afraid so.”

He rides his horse almost lazily across the square towards me. He looks as cool and unruffled as ever, no sweat marking his clothes, even wearing riding gloves, even clean boots.

This ain’t possible.

This ain’t possible at all.

“How can you be here?” I say, my voice rising. “How—?”

“Even a simpleton knows there’s two roads to Haven,” he says, his voice calm and silky, almost smirking but not quite.

The dust we saw. The dust we saw moving towards Haven yesterday.

“But how?” I say, so stunned I can barely get the words out. “The army’s a day away at least—”

“Sometimes the rumour of an army is just as effective as the army itself, my boy,” he says. “The terms of surrender were most favourable. One of which was clearing the streets so I could welcome you here myself.” He looks back up towards the falls. “Tho I was of course expecting my son to bring you.” I look around the square and now I can see faces, faces peering outta windows, outta doors.

I can see four more men on horseback coming round the church.

I look back at Mayor Prentiss.

“Oh, it’s President Prentiss now,” he says. “You’ll do well to remember that.”

And then I realize.

I can’t hear his Noise.

I can’t hear anyone’s.

“No,” he says. “I imagine you can’t, tho that’s an interesting story and not what you might—”

Viola slips a little more from my hands, the shift of it making her give a pained gasp. “Please!” I say. “Save her! I’ll do anything you say! I’ll join the army! I’ll—”

“All good things to those who wait,” the Mayor says, finally looking a little annoyed.

He dismounts in one easy movement and starts taking off his gloves one finger at a time.

And I know we’ve lost.

Everything is lost.

Everything is over.

“As the newly appointed President of this fair planet of ours,” the Mayor says, holding out his hand as if to show me the world for the first time, “let me be the very first to welcome you to its new capital city.” “Todd?” Viola whispers, her eyes closed.

I hold her tightly to me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper to her. “I’m so sorry.”

We’ve run right into a trap.

We’ve run right off the end of the world.

“Welcome,” says the Mayor, “to New Prentisstown.”