“Noah, you mean,” I reply, shrugging when Conrad gives me an impatient frown.
Conrad’s much keener on direct action, wanting to do his duty before getting back to seeking out fun. Although this place is intriguing, fun doesn’t describe it, meaning I’ve got a limited time to get information out of our host.
“Yes ... Noah, enjoying the dizzying feelings of romance in The Winter Quarter …”
I keep my gaze on the woman, not wanting to see Lucy’s reaction. To say this visit hasn’t turned out the way I expected would be a mild understatement. I was expecting blistering winds and a brooding sky, trekking through The Royisin Heights and maybe bumping into a mumbling witch or wizard out on a midnight walk.
I mean, what else is there to do out here? Well, plenty, it seems, judging by the passageways, offering alternatives to a reclusive existence.
“Do you know us?” Conrad asks, tapping his feet impatiently on the concrete floor.
“Yes, Conrad; I know you. The question is, do you remember me?”
Conrad studies the face, looking for clues in the intense grey eyes. “Sorry, I don’t me to be rude … “
“Did you used to live in Society Square?” Lucy asks, a glimmer of recognition crossing her face.
The lady stops pacing, glancing towards the fire, never resting her gaze on any of us. “Yes. I lived in Society Square for many years.”
“Why did you leave?”
“To unburden myself of duty.”
“To the Society?”
“To my family name: a name which continued to draw unwanted attention after the last war was won.”
It suddenly dawns on me who she is … the striking grey eyes that used to be green … the lithe figure and pretty face that Jacob was once hypnotised by. I don’t know how I know, but I do. The mention of ‘unburdening herself from family’ and ‘unwanted attention after the last war’ makes me think of a family sharing a similar burden placed to the Renns: the Follygrin family.
The family who created the small, circular, leather-bound artefact on the table by the fire, and who also run the shop bearing their name in Founders’ Quad. Francis Follygrin was the old man who provided the last piece of the puzzle: the final fragment of a lethal artefact, allowing us to rid the Society of evil.
It was Francis that malevs and captors sought out in the past, wondering why he’d vanished from Society life for decades, leaving people to think he was dead. It was also Francis who’d explained a life overseeing the continued imprisonment of an evil fragment in a secret cell hidden within Follygrins.
His was a life sacrificed to protect the Society, and one rejected by his granddaughter following his death. Sianna Follygrin … changed almost beyond recognition … the luminous eyes and voice remaining. A life forever altered by her grandfather’s sacrifice.
“Sianna,” I say. “Sianna Follygrin.”
This gets her full attention, brushing her greying hair away from her striking face, turning her gaze onto me. “We meet in different circumstances, Guppy.”
“Thanks for coming out to help us. It’s pretty wild out here.”
The first smile touches a face that was once lit with life. “Only on the outside. You make whatever life you choose once settled here. Drink up while it’s hot, then I can show you around and, perhaps, guide you on to the person you’re seeking.”
“So, Neve is hiding out here?” Conrad asks.
“Yes, Conrad. Neve is here but she’s worked hard to create a maze around her, meaning you need to tread carefully. The one thing The Royisin Heights shares with its inhabitants is a shifting mood. Neve has no intention of being captured so, naturally, her mood will change once cornered.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve got a plan to draw her out of her?”
“Drink up,” Sianna says again, the old light returning to her eyes as we do, making me hope the maze she’s referring to isn’t hidden in the remedy we’re sipping — potentially brewed to send us off into a dreamworld where nightmares await on the other side.
23
Passage to Danger
Thankfully, I don’t wake up hours later in a dungeon with silent witches and wizards for company. The remedy tastes sweet — a blue concoction I’m not familiar with but drink anyway, confident that Sianna Follygrin remains a trusted comrade with no intention of putting us in danger.
That remains to be seen, of course, because she’s suggested a path to Neve’s hideout, probably accessed through one of the six passageways all leading in different directions. As the fire crackles, I glance down each passageway, seeing either darkness or glittering light, nothing else to go on so I invest in a little more patience — not my strong point — enjoying the blue remedy in my teacup until Sianna decides to tell us more.
“Have you been here long?” Lucy asks, probably trying to gain a greater understanding of our relationship with Sianna.
Lucy and Noah came into the fray after the last big battle, joining the Night Rangers when different factions formed to keep an eye on things. I rarely talk about past conflicts because you never know who’s lost loved ones — each family in the S.P.M.A. having comrades and captors alike.
Take my family, for example, the Graylings. I’m a Night Ranger and Jacob’s a teacher, but our mum’s a Melackin now, rehabilitated after an act of betrayal. It’s the same in all families: all marked in some way by shadows and sin when you take a closer look.
“Just over a year,” Sianna replies, adjusting her floral dressing gown as she moves closer to us. “It feels longer but The Royisin Heights have that effect on you.”
“Is that why the sky moves so quickly?” I ask, putting the teacup on the small table to my left.
“The sky is as changeable as the weather, Guppy, sometimes fast and other times completely static. Then there’s the weather that can shift in minutes and form for months.
