Brink (The Ruin Saga Book 2) (10 page)

Malverston clapped, lest any attention waver from him, and laughed in great hacking gulps. “Good, good, fortune smiles on us all. My dear friends, I’m sure our guests are tired after their long ride. Let’s give them some space and refreshment.” He flicked a hand in the direction of the stock keeper. “Harry, give their horses a fair seeing to, won’t you?”

The stock keeper’s brow twitched, but he nodded. “Of course, Mayor.”

“Good, good. We ran out of the jerky you brought on your last trip. We certainly have a taste for it around these parts.”

“I’m glad everyone enjoyed it.” Alex was still smiling, but James knew every inch of him too well for the micro expressions of distaste lurking under his brow to go unnoticed.

The partiality to jerky was chiefly that of the mayor, rather than the town. His subjects were lucky to receive anything but the occasional tinned spam or tuna when after a taste of the Old World. Newquay’s Moon was a long way from any city of note, and so the scavengers had picked the loot left behind after the End clean in the Early Years.

“In time there’ll be plenty more,” Alex was saying.

“So what have you brought?” Malverston cried.

“Only good intentions, and an offer you’d be a fool to refuse.”

A momentary fury flashed behind Malverston’s piggy eyes. But then the flicker was gone and he was wearing his amiable smile once more. “Indeed, young master Cain? Please, let’s get comfortable.” He gestured to the largest building in town, the pantry around back overspilling with the goods brought by those looking to win his favour.

That was how power exchanged hands in the South-West. They relied on trade caravans and wandering allies for such luxuries, which carried a hefty premium. It was no surprise they had taken to Alex and James. They took to anyone willing to give a discount, regardless of their ulterior motives. Their affections and allegiance came down to how much you were willing to shave off your price. James and Alex had spent the last few months shepherding carts of goods into the area for far less than it was worth. They would ride into town and give a few sacks away for dirt cheap, then spend the rest of the day giving it away free to the surrounding area, flooding the market, devaluing even the finest Old World treats. If they could keep prices low, they might be able to shake the hold some of their competitors had over Newquay’s Moon.

There were some sour people about, all bad news. The more leeches they could pick off this place, the easier it would be to gain a foothold.

The crowd began to disperse, excitement fizzing out. James always hated this part of opening negotiations with a frontier settlement. The everyman always ended up caught between squabbling fat cats.

They’ll have all they want soon enough
, he consoled himself.

Alex ducked his head close to James, dropping his voice to a murmur. “I’ll give him the pitch. You stay out here. I don’t want to crowd him. This one likes mano-a-mano. Play nice out here. Join us in ten.”

“And if things don’t pan out?”

“Then we’ll be leaving pretty fast. Malverston’s all for playing big daddy when the chips are in his hands, but if we ask him to play fair … be ready.”

He disappeared inside with the wobbling tower of gout and furs that was Malverston, and James was left alone by the stables, fighting back a grin. He admired Alex’s guts. He had just walked right into the bear’s cave.

Malverston was crooked, indeed, but they were going to give him the offer to join the alliance in any case. It would mean he would have to go straight—unlikely, but possible. Offering and risking things going south was still a hell of a lot better than usurping a kingpin. And if he refused … well, they would carry on with their plan.

Once these people no longer bowed to petty bribery, maybe they could sit at the table and enter a real dialogue. Too many resilient pockets of civilisation had succumbed to the ravages of a new barbarism that was sweeping the land; alone they would all fall in time, but together, maybe they stood a chance.

They’d get rid of Malverston and his slime, in time. But for now, they had to play along. For the time being, he held all the keys.

The South-West, notably Cornwall and Devon, had been so scarcely populated even before the End that, in some respects, little had changed.

Malverston had been a farmer once, rich in his own way. But then the End had come, and he had awoken to find all his neighbours gone. Naturally, he had claimed all their land and assets as his own.

Now, he was the wealthiest landowner for over a hundred miles, having somehow convinced everyone inside his domain that he, and he alone, held rights to its bounty.

That was just the way the dice had landed. It could have been far worse. So long as those who worked his land paid their duty to his inner circle, they were left in peace.

But that didn’t mean things were fair. The town was Malverston’s throne, and it didn’t pay to forget it. By now, many of the locals were already filing back to their homes, the fields, or the tavern. James searched for Beth among them, but he knew he wouldn’t find her. She never let him see her until she was ready. By now she could have hidden herself anywhere, fetching water or working the farthest orchards.

Fire stoked in his gut, squirming and tingling like a glug of fine whisky. He had to bide his time and wait for her to come to him, when the excitement had waned and they could be alone. He just hoped Alex could entertain Malverston long enough. He couldn’t bear not seeing her—he would wither as a summer flower succumbs to a frosty night.

A little crestfallen, but still excited, he dawdled a minute to make sure a gunfight wasn’t about to kick off inside. But no, from the mayor’s house came only rancorous laugher, and the sound of plenty of drink being decanted.

James finally let his fingers fall away from the safety catch on his rifle, and slung it over his back. Then he returned to his mount, lifted the duffle bag off the saddle, and set off towards the nearest house. Before he could rap his knuckles on the door a second time, a milky-eyed old woman in a patched tunic opened the door with trembling fingers. Her face screwed up into a mask of wariness and suspicion until he touched her on the arm and said, “Mrs McKinley, it’s me.”

She snuffed, jerking free, squinting and pursing her ancient lips at him.

He blinked. “Mrs McKliney?”

His heart sank. Didn’t she recognise him?

Her squint persisted a moment longer, then her myriad wrinkles smoothed with delight, and she tugged him inside, a great croaking laugh storming from her lips. “Gotcha, sucker! I’m not that old yet.”

He grinned and stooped into the gloom, taking in the dust on the mantelpiece, the halo of soot around the fireplace, and the musty odour of unwashed skin and stale urine. The flames in the grate were the only source of light, but still it was obvious nobody had visited in some time.

Anger flashed in the soft membrane behind his eyes. It was all too easy to forget the elderly, he knew that, but this was more than that.

She was clutching at his sleeve still, caressing it, her eyes swimming, searching his own. A crooning whine rattled deep in her throat, pining like a puppy. She squinted, inching closer, scrutinising his face through thick cataracts. “So handsome,” she muttered, taking his chin between claw-like fingers.

“How are we today?” he slurred around her hand.

“Hip’s killing me.” A phlegmatic grunt welled in her throat. “Girls will eat you up in no time.”

Beth’s face flashed before his eyes. “I don’t know about that.”

She cackled, showing rows of brown rotten teeth. “We’ll see.”

James blinked in surprise when her fingers pinched his buttocks. For a moment, he was aghast, disbelieving, then he smiled helplessly. He watched her hobble, and his heart sank at how far she stooped, how slow she moved.

She was tough, but alone out here … He could see her time was running out. When they had first discovered Newquay’s Moon, she had been at the helm, a straight-backed pillar of strength who had held the wolves at bay since the End. This place had been her reason for being.

Then Malverston had moved into the area, and age had taken its toll on her energy. As she had slowed, the landowner’s influence had grown. And one day, he had simply claimed the town for his own, rigging an impromptu election to pacify the populace. Since then, Alice McKinley had remained here in this hut, slowly fading.

James suspected he was one of few to ever visit. He was drawn to her door more than any other. There was something about her, some sliver of the Old World that seemed alive in her despite her filmy corneas and drooping jaw, some secret wisdom that had vanished from so much of the land since the End. He smiled as she tugged him to the grimy table beside the kitchenette and pushed him into a seat before bustling around with the kettle, struggling to light the stove.

He leaped up. “Please, let me,” he said, taking the splint and bending over the cramped kitchenette. Once the flame had caught, he stepped back, for she was already flapping him away impatiently.

“I’m no coot,” she croaked, her voice so faded it was barely audible. “Can light my own fire …” She wheezed, and he guessed she was laughing. “You’re a good boy.” She grunted, making tea with laborious unconscious dexterity, something James loved to watch elders do. Another echo of the Old World, a ritual of a world that had moved on. “You should stop visiting me.”

“And miss your plum cobbler? You know how hard it is to find dessert out east?”

She laughed, a vibrant and lively sound wholly unbefitting her trembling, failing body. “Now I know that’s the truth. All men are ruled by their bellies, among other things … Speaking of which, I saw you and Master Cain ride in. Those other fools out there might be young, but they’re blinder than I am.” She jeered, “There’s something potent about young hearts. When they get after one another, their spark gets all over everything, hangs in the air.” A ringing pause, then she said, “Who’s the lucky girl?”

James’s throat filled with putty. He mouthed wordlessly until she turned around with a tray laden with a teapot, cups and saucers, milk, and sugar. Seven billion souls might have disappeared from this Earth, empires emptied, civilisations cut short, but afternoon tea went on. A coy smile sat on her lips, threaded with muted pain as she sat.

“You knew?”

“You’ve had something growing inside of you since I first laid eyes on you. As much as I’d like it to be a crush on me, I can’t say that’s it.” That coy smile grew wider. “There are some things that can’t buoy a person up the same way. It’s like nectar, fills you through and through. Even your
sacred mission
can’t do that, am I right?”

He didn’t answer.

She poured the tea, and they sat and drank in companionable silence for a long while. James kept a wary ear out for sounds of violence coming from Malverston’s house, but outside, the town was all but silent. Though his trained ear listened as a matter of course, his head was swimming. Thinking of Beth’s face, the way her hair splashed over her shoulders—just thinking about her brought her scent to his nose, notes of talcum powder and lavender. Somehow, amidst the mud and grit of the orchards and the packed-dirt streets of the town, she took care to smell like that.

Was it for him, that scent?

Alice was laughing quietly. James came back to the room slowly. “What?” he said.

“You’re a bright young thing, but you’re dumb as a bag of wet kittens.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Because you’re sitting in the dark, drinking tea with an old bat instead of out there wooing the knickers off your sweetheart.”

James squirmed. His cheeks were glowing. “I don’t know what I would say,” he muttered.

He was used to being in control, expounding the wisdom of the Old World to those less fortunate. It had become almost second nature to stand in Alex’s shadow, to be elevated by all that cold, logical knowledge. To get muddled up now with fleshy, hot, raw emotions was turning him around. It was all so … sticky.

“Say?” Her face grew sombre. “Speak your mind. Life’s too short for nerves and tripping over yourself. Take her by the arms and tell her exactly what you’re thinking.”

He choked on his tea. “I … I …”

Her face smoothed, her eyelids fluttering. She put her tea down on the saucer and leaned forwards, milky eyes shimmering. “My darling, none of us have as much time as we think. If you don’t take every chance you ever get by the balls, one day you’ll wake up old and broken, and it’ll be too late.”

He didn’t reply, just sat nursing his tea.

In the corner of his eye, he saw a smile return to her lips, threaded with a sympathy that was almost forlorn. “My, my, girls are really going to eat you alive. I hope Ms Tarbuck digs her claws in tight.”

James started, his knee banging painfully against the table. “How did you know?”

She rolled her eyes. “This town ain’t a big place, and all I got to do all day is squint out the window trying to see some goddamn thing. So far as I can see of anything, there’s only one other punch-drunk doolally wandering around. She got that same look in her eye. Like I said, it gets in the air.”

James rubbed his smarting leg, embarrassment forgotten. If she knew, what about Alex? Had he sensed something amiss? Somehow, James didn’t like the idea of Alex finding out. He was liable to think James’s concentration was slipping. And when anything threatened their
great destiny
or their
mission
, he was liable to start meddling.

He finished his tea and cleaned up Alice’s house awhile, dusting, setting things straight, and replacing her woodpile from the stock out in the square. Then he kissed her on the cheek and headed for the door. “I’ll visit again soon.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m too old and no good for this world as it is. Don’t need to go dragging a trailblazer like you down with me.” Now that he was at the door, she looked so much smaller, so much older, a tiny thing gnarled in the dark.

He strode back to the table, leaned over and gave her arm a squeeze. “You’re blind as a mule, too.”

Her bitter frown melted away, and then she was laughing again, blowing stale breath over him. She pinched his chin. “Get out of my house, you little shit.”