The Fandom(76)

‘Ash?’

‘Over here,’ he replies. I recognize the timbre of his voice, but not the tone – it sounds so flat. I follow the direction of his words and my eyes grow accustomed to the dimness. I begin to pick out his silhouette, hunched in the corner, knees pulled to his chest. I scoop his hands into mine. ‘Jesus, Ash. Are you OK?’ Even in the gloom, I can see how badly his face has started to swell.

‘You’re a rebel?’ he says. ‘Shit, you didn’t think to mention it?’

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That night, when you helped me put the rose on Willow’s windowsill . . . I thought you knew.’

‘You think I would have shown you the Dupes if I knew you were a rebel?’

‘I guess not.’ I couldn’t feel more guilty if I tried. ‘I’m so sorry, really I am. I didn’t want to put you in danger by telling you the truth.’ The truth. That unattainable thing we can never share. I brush the hair from his forehead and inspect a deep cut. In the dark – against the pallor of his skin – it looks like a black gorge. He sucks the air over his teeth as I gently nip the skin back together.

‘You need stitches,’ I say.

‘Oh well, drop me at the nearest Imp hospital.’

We lock eyes for a moment and begin to laugh.

‘Why did you follow me?’ I leave my palm pressed against his head. I no longer need to pretend I have feelings for Willow. I feel slightly giddy at this thought, like I’m back on that carousel. And I suddenly grow very aware of my own exposed skin, how my face, throat, wrists all seem to absorb Ash’s body heat.

He lets his eyelids close and turns his head into my palm. ‘I thought you were in trouble. You see, I didn’t go back to the city after you kissed me—’

‘You kissed me back,’ I say, and then blush for being so petty while he’s lying beaten in a cell.

‘I didn’t get much of a choice. You were all over me.’ He tries to wink, but his eye looks too swollen. He settles on a half-smile. ‘I went to the orchard and when I came back to talk to you, you’d gone. All the slaves were talking about how Saskia had been really angry and you’d all left in a hurry. So I caught the next bus back to the city and tracked you down. It wasn’t hard, I remembered where you were headed first time I met you. And you’ve got this really noisy way of breathing, kind of like a pig.’ He makes this snorting noise and I laugh.

A pause hangs between us. I notice the scraping of a rodent’s claws, the drip of water keeping time. My voice cracks. ‘After I told you I wanted Willow, I thought—’

‘I’d just give up?

‘Yeah.’

‘You know what I told you about climbing? How you always keep one limb on a branch so you don’t fall.’

I nod, realizing my fingers have begun to twine through his hair.

‘Well, I broke my own rule.’ He catches my fingers with his own. ‘And now I’ve fallen way too hard.’

My insides feel warm and I can’t help grinning, in spite of our current situation. ‘Are you comparing me to a tree?’

‘A big, old gnarly one.’ A sudden look of panic dislodges his smile. ‘What are they going to do to me?’

‘If you have no use, Thorn may kill you. It depends if Saskia can talk him round.’ I try to sound calm.

His head thumps against the wall. ‘I’m a dead man.’

‘We just need to make you useful to them – indispensable.’

Light floods into the cell. Thorn stands in the doorway. I hurriedly untangle my fingers from Ash’s hair, angry at myself for dropping my guard, desperately trying to think of a way to make him seem invaluable.

‘OK, Little Flower, time’s up.’ Thorn draws a knife from his belt, the same knife he held against Willow’s face in canon. Ash’s breath quickens against my cheek.

Thorn looks at the blade and then at Ash. ‘Now I just need to take out the rubbish.’

‘Wait.’ I stand, forming a barrier between Ash and the knife. Beneath my overalls, my legs feel like paper.

‘Violet, don’t . . .’ Ash says.

Thorn sneers at me. ‘Are you going to tell me another story about Ruth? It won’t work this time.’

My brain aches as I try desperately to think. Not Ruth, not Ruth, another part of the canon. I stare at him, speechless and floundering, my eyes drawn to that rusted, bloodstained knife. I’m reminded again of the canon, and suddenly, I know what to say. ‘It turns out Alice doesn’t know everything. Willow did tell me some of the Gems’ dirty secrets, before she got her claws into him. But I’ll only tell you if you agree to spare Ash and Katie.’

Thorn knocks me out of the way and hauls Ash to his feet, ramming him against the wall and sticking the blade into the masonry right next to his cheek. ‘Tell me,’ he shouts.

This sudden burst of aggression shocks me. Even though I half expected it, feeling the rush of air and the spray of mortar dust against my face, inhaling the tang of anxious sweat, and seeing every tendon protrude from Thorn’s wrists – it’s so much scarier than anything on the telly.

I talk fast, my gaze never leaving the blade as it bends and scrapes against the stone. ‘I know where all the rich and important Gems will be tonight. Ambassadors, generals, even President Stoneback’s nephew — Howard.’ My brain can hardly keep up with my mouth, pulling Willow’s lines directly from canon. ‘There’s a brothel known as the Meat House. It’s run by some bent squaddies, offering the Gems whatever Imp meat the customer desires – male, female, some disabled, some children. As long as the customer can pay the price, the concubine will be provided.’ I hear Ash grab a shaky breath. The point of the blade rotates against the wall, releasing dust and sand. The desperation climbs in my voice. ‘And I know where it is. I can take you there.’