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Authors: Laure Eve

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BOOK: The Illusionists
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He tried to gather himself. Tried to pin it harder with his mind. But this time it didn't flinch, or cry.

‘I want to talk about the times I sat in my bedroom, alone,' it said. ‘Times when I couldn't look at the news feeds any more because they were making me sick. The shitty things people kept doing to each other turned my stomach. The people in charge were all the same, promising everyone everything until they got into power, and then doing whatever served them best. No one,
no one
gives a fuck about anyone else until they have to experience poverty, or illness, or injustice for themselves. Because the world is full of selfishness, and everyone is walking around half dead, just killing time until time kills them.

‘I hated myself most of all, because I was one of them as much as anyone. I wanted to
do
something about the things I felt, but I never did. All I've ever done is run away. Hide. Feel sorry for myself. I've always been alone, because I hate people, and I can't let them in because I think I'm better than everyone – of course I am, I'm different. I
think
, I
question
, I have a power that they don't have.

‘But at the same time I know, I know I'm not better than anyone else. So I don't deserve anyone's attention. In fact, I despise people who like me, because that means they're weak. Only weak people like people like me.'

White felt himself slide. Like the hole had grown bigger and was beckoning him in. The other him was close. Very close now.

‘Rue, she'll leave me,' it said, softly. ‘Because it won't take long for her to realise that there's nothing inside worth having. I'm just a collection of weaknesses and hate. I've done nothing good in the world. But I could change things, if I would just have the courage. The people who change things have courage. They take extraordinary leaps. They have to make the hard choices because being good
is
hard. Being unselfish, and thinking of the good of the world,
is
hard. If it were easy, everyone would be doing it. It's meant to feel wrong. It's meant to feel like it'll break you in two if you do it. But you have to do it. This one thing that will give your life meaning. Let us in, and we'll change the world with you. You'll look back at this moment in time and wonder why you ever hesitated. Let me inside you, White.'

He felt something brush close to his forehead. It had stretched out a hand.

It was too late to say no.

Maybe it was easier to just stand there and let it happen.

Then Cho flashed in his mind. Scornful, fiery Cho, who knew her weaknesses and went ahead anyway, everything on display. She was the most courageous person he knew.

She'd be so disappointed with him right now.

With a horrible groan, White wrenched himself away. It was like trying to move in thick, cloying syrup. He fought and fought, pulling back until he thought his whole body would snap.

The other White reared up, startled.

For a moment, he thought he had it. Then he saw his copy's face twist, and the hands lunge forward. If it couldn't use him to get out of the Castle, it would eat.

He had no time to be afraid. He just lashed out. He punched with his fist and his mind, wild and unfocused but with so much fury he could choke on it. He hacked it all up and made it into a weapon and he punched.

The copy didn't even scream. It just staggered back, clawing at itself.

Then it melted into the floor. He watched it shrivel, folding inwards like burning paper, curling and furling until there was nothing left. He made sure there was nothing left, and when he was sure, he let go.

The room tilted. For a horrible moment, White thought he was going to faint; or maybe wake up and find himself back in the real. But then it faded, and he was left crouched on the floor next to the hole.

He had never, ever felt so utterly exhausted.

But it wasn't over yet.

He lifted his face to the group.

The hole was still there, but he could feel them pushing at it with their combined strength, willing it back to a smooth floor. He didn't want them to be here any longer than necessary. More monsters could come. It was the last thing he felt like doing, but he dragged himself to the group, and sat on the edge of the hole next to Lufe.

You've done enough!
said a voice inside, angry.
Why the hell are you giving more?

Because I can,
he told it.
Because it's needed. So shut up.

White hesitated. He'd never thought that touching could amplify their power like this. That had been Rue's idea again; always thinking differently to him. He reached out and took Lufe's unresisting hand, feeling the warm palm against his own.

The group flowed into him at once, pulsing and alive. It was like a hot shower, skinny dipping in a lake at midnight, shoving your burned finger into snow. He was part of the group now, and they were part of him. He could feel them. But he wasn't much of a he any more – he was a them.

It was wonderful. It was terrifying.

With White they were stronger. It took time, but not any time they could tell. There was none of that kind of time here. And together, they felt it when it happened.

Somehow, he'd thought that maybe the stone would grow out from the hole's frayed edges, carpet knitting itself back together before their eyes, but there was no pleasing logic to it. The hole was still there. And then it was not. It was as if there'd never been a hole in the first place. This was the new reality they had created, cancelling out the old one.

They could remake their realities as they saw fit. That was a Dreamer. And it didn't matter if the reality existed in only one place, like the Castle, or the inside of their heads. Real was as real as you let it be. You had to work to make the reality you wanted.

This was the lesson he had finally learned.

They woke.

There was no more group mind, now that they were back in the real. It was a strange sensation, like his hair had suddenly been shaved off. They were all supposed to be there, brushing against him.

Rue and Cho were waiting for them. Both had been crying. Rue smelled and looked awful. White didn't care. He doubted he looked any better. She was alive, and that was what mattered.

But others were not.

Five had died in the Castle, before they had got to the hole. Five he couldn't save.

Peater, Sam and Justin – three junior clerks White had taught last summer, young men who had grown up together and loved each other like brothers. They even worked for the same stockbroker company in Capital. Had. Had worked. One of them was married with a little baby. They had died together in the throne room.

Hester. She'd given him such grief in their first lesson. Prickly and bossy, and very naturally Talented. She never smiled. She'd smiled at him, once, when he'd told her how good she was. He hadn't even seen what had happened to her, but Lufe had found her in another room.

Marches.

Marches was dead. Lea had been with him when it happened.

White pressed his fingers hard to his eyes to stop himself from crying. Tears were no use right now. They were just no use at all.

In the real they looked peaceful. Each had blood that had trickled out of their noses and half dried onto their skin, but that was the only obvious mark of what had happened. He wasn't responsible for them. He knew that. He would go on knowing it in the dark hours when they came back for him, memory ghosts to add to his collection. They would help him remember pain.

In the here and now, their bodies had to be dealt with. It was a very practical thing, death. There was just no time to fall apart. The group Jumped each body back to Angle Tar. Lea insisted on helping to take Marches, but then dissolved into furious sobs when she touched his body. Lufe moved her gently out of the way and took him, Tulsent helping. Both looked completely broken.

They took all five bodies to Red House and laid them out next to the hearth. They placed the hand of one in the hand of the next, so they were together.

Andrew said he would take care of it. He would wake the right ministers, the right people. It would all be dealt with properly. There would be questions, but they would handle it. The others crowded to him like lost sheep. White was grateful. He had been playacting at leader too long, and he never, ever wanted to do it again.

‘You can't stay,' Andrew said to him, firmly. They stood apart from the rest. Rue had her arms around Lea, and they were talking together in jagged whispers. ‘They're still looking for you.'

‘I will not leave you all with this mess here,' White said. He would start taking on the responsibility of the choices he had made. No more running away.

‘They'll lock you up, White. They think you did something to Frith and then bolted.'

White looked at him. ‘I did.'

Andrew sighed. ‘Then I don't think I can help you.'

White nodded. ‘You have done more than enough. You risked your life for us.'

‘For everyone,' said Andrew. ‘I believe that. I didn't at first, I confess. But I saw  …  I saw things in that place I never even  …  but it's over now. Isn't it?' The last was said with an anxious tone.

It was too soon to be a cynic.

‘It is over,' said White.

He caught Rue's eye from across the room.

She watched him. He watched her.

CHAPTER 33

ANGLE TAR
FRITH

‘I brought you something.'

Frith laid the package down onto the kitchen table.

Fernie wrinkled her nose. ‘Trout?'

‘Fresh this morning. I caught them myself.'

‘Well. Mebbe I'll make a pie, then.' Fernie looked up at him. ‘You'll stay for dinner, course.'

‘Of course.'

She had been writing painstakingly in a little leather-bound notebook. He'd never seen it before.

‘It's my tricks,' she said, without looking up. ‘All the bits of the craft I've picked up over the years.' She gave a little laugh. ‘I 'ave to write it all down, my memory's awful.'

‘That makes two of us,' Frith said, lightly.

He thought he'd disguised it.

But then she said, ‘Something on your mind?'

Here we go, then.

Frith sat opposite her. ‘I got another letter,' he said.

‘They sending people to drag you back?'

‘Something's happening to the Talented.'

Fernie looked up at him. But damn her, she didn't look surprised or even curious, even though it was clear she'd caught the serious tone in his voice.

She put her pen down and sat back.

‘The letter is from the Spymaster. He doesn't really describe it very well,' Frith continued. ‘He says there have been some incidents on campus. A suicide. Two attempted murders. Five more bodies found laid out in Red House, cause of death unknown. They're all Talented – the suicide, the would-be murderers, the other deaths. He's being pressured to do something about the rest of the Talented. Doing something, in this case, is rounding them up and putting them in what they charmingly call a “secure facility for their own protection”.'

Fernie merely nodded. ‘And you need to go back.'

‘I need to go back.' The thought wrenched his guts. But it was time to face the wreckage of his old life. ‘I need to go back and see if I still have a career.' He gave a little laugh.

‘Will you be in trouble?'

‘There will be questions. And I'll probably be put in charge of the task force to round the Talented up.'

‘A loyalty test.'

She was sharp.

‘Quite,' he replied. ‘To prove I'm not on their side. To even prove I'm not the instigator of all this.'

‘They can't think that.'

Frith sighed. ‘They can, and they will. You have to know how it is there. They can barely acknowledge the Talent exists, never mind understand how it works. Some of them view Talented as akin to performing monkeys rather than people.'

Frith leaned forward.

He had to do this while he still had the courage.

‘I want to take Jason back with me,' he said.

A yawning pit of silence.

He tried to fill it up. ‘I can't protect him here. People will get sent after him. I won't be able to stop that. But at least in Capital I can keep him close.'

‘All right,' said Fernie.

It burst out of him. ‘What?'

Fernie shrugged. ‘I ain't his keeper. He's a grown man, he can make his own decisions. Have you asked him?'

Frith struggled for control. ‘Not yet.'

‘He'll say yes.'

‘Why do you think so?'

Fernie smiled.

She knows
, said an anxious voice in his head.

What does she know?
he snapped back.
There's nothing going on between Jason and me.

Fernie was staring at the tabletop. ‘Sounds like you've got all your memories back, then.'

‘There are still gaps. But yes. Over the last few days, they've been coming back.'

‘Feeling your old self again?'

He caught the barb in her voice.

‘I honestly don't know,' he said. ‘I don't remember how I felt before.'

‘You're not the same, you know.'

‘So you both keep telling me. But perhaps I am.'

‘Oh-ho, you think so? There would have been a time, young man, when you wouldn't have even asked me about going back with Jason. You'd have just taken him.'

‘I'm not sure I like your phrasing.'

Fernie laughed, a pleased smile on her face. ‘Good.' She turned her face to the window, seemingly watching the sky.

Frith folded his arms, nettled. ‘There's one memory I've recently reacquired that I'd like to discuss with you, if you don't mind.'

Her mouth thinned. ‘Go on, then,' she said.

‘It's more a collection of memories about a person. He called himself White.'

She was still watching the sky.

‘I'm not sure, but I think he might be responsible for my memory loss,' Frith persisted. ‘He's Talented. Shockingly Talented. And he has a very distinctive face.'

Fernie gave a tiny little sigh.

‘I say that because when I started to remember him, he reminded me very strongly of someone else.'

Silence.

‘Different hair, of course. And skin tone. But the eyes, and the face.' He watched Fernie, but she didn't turn her head. ‘I wasn't the only reason you wanted Jason hidden away, was I?'

Silence.

‘I thought I was confused,' he said. ‘Perhaps I'd somehow muddied the memory with Jason's face. But I can see now that I wasn't.'

Fernie was studying a wheeling flock of birds.

Frith leaned forward. He wanted to shake her. ‘What the hell is going on? Why does Jason share features with White? Are they brothers?'

‘Let it go.'

Frith shook his head, impatient. ‘Fernie –'

Fernie shot him a look. ‘Please. It don't matter. Just forget it.'

‘Do you understand what you're saying?'

‘I can't tell you, so you just won't know. Can't you be content with what you do know?'

Frith spread his hands, trying to make light. ‘You're telling me to just not pursue the truth? How does one do that?'

Fernie slammed the table with the side of her hand.

Frith watched her in silence.

‘Damn you and your truth,' she said. She didn't seem angry so much as upset.

‘Look,' said Frith. ‘I apologise. I'll let it go. All right?'

‘Yes, but the trouble is you won't, see? It'll keep gnawing at you and you'll find some other way to it. Mebbe you'll even ask Jason, and then what am I to do? I've no choice.'

‘I won't ask him about it, then.'

Fernie sighed. ‘You're still a good liar, Frith, but you ain't fooling me over this. You're the type that needs to know. The worst part of it all is that I want to tell you.'

Frith watched her carefully.

‘Just remember I said no,' Fernie said. ‘Will you do that for me? 'Cos once you know, there's no going back.'

Good god, how bad can it be?
thought Frith.

But he held his tongue, waiting for her to find a way in.

Fernie plaited her fingers together, running one thumb over the other. ‘You don't know the real reason I decided to help you, not really. It weren't because you got to me – although you did. It was because I already knew that you and Jason end up together. That you're happy. That he's happy with you.'

Frith swallowed the impulse to laugh disbelievingly, or protest against her insinuation. She was scrutinising him as she spoke.

‘When we met for the very first time,' she said, ‘it was right here in this village. No, not when you were a kiddie. When
I
was. You recruited me. I looked up to you. I thought you were the prize horse, Frith, my dear. Then I left Angle Tar.

‘The next time we saw each other, I was a bit older, and you were different. More  …  open. I didn't know what had happened to you, and I didn't ask. And then I met Jason. You brought him to our house a few times. Mine and White's house, I should say. 'Course, I didn't realise who Jason really was until much, much later.' She smiled at the memory. ‘But this was when I loved you. You and me and White and Jason, we worked together for a while, as equals.

‘Then we didn't meet again for some time. I had my life. I saw the world. Things changed. And a while later, I ended up alone, with a baby – my baby. White's baby boy. I just wanted to go back to a simpler life, see. I wanted to go back to a time where everything felt safe and clear.

‘So I decided to leave my present, and I travelled back to the past. Took some doing, let me tell you, but I did it. And the next time we met, down here in the village, I was older and had a son, but you were
younger.
I'd only ever known you as a man, a man I loved like a da'. To see you as this young thing, barely started out in life, it was confusing. And that was where it got hard for me. Because this bit was a part of your past you never told me about when I knew you as a man, so I had no idea what was coming next. I had no idea you were going to ruin my son's life. I didn't know you were capable of that. D'you see? It was the first time I saw your flaws. Even though you'd grow up to be the Frith I knew, I couldn't see past what you were right then.

‘The problem is that I know you out of sequence, Frith. It's tricky, living back in the past, while knowing all the things I know. I met my own son before he was even born. That sort of thing can really addle you, if you let it. Best not to let it, really. I just try to focus on the here and now. That's all you can do without going mad.'

She subsided.

Frith rocked back on his chair. He managed to stop himself from laughing – just. ‘What are you trying to say? You travel through time?'

‘I just did it the once,' Fernie replied, patiently.

‘I see.'

‘You think I've lost my mind. S'all right, so did Jason when I first told 'im.'

‘You told him all that?'

She fixed him with a stare. ‘Course I did. You think I'd keep something like that from my own son?'

‘You told him about his father?'

‘I asked him if he wanted to know who it is. He said no. I didn't tell him that he ends up meeting White, but I think he knows. He's got an uncanny way with the future himself, that boy. I s'pose he got that from me. But I remember when I was younger, and we saw Jason with you, he did act odd around White. You're right – they got the same eyes, the same face shape. We made a joke of it at the time, but Jason took it a bit serious. You didn't think it was too funny, either, as I recall.'

‘Stop. Stop. This is just a mess of  …  I'm trying, Fernie. I'm trying to understand.' Frith massaged his forehead. ‘So what you're telling me is that you're Vela Rue.'

Fernie watched him.

‘And that we first met when I recruited you not that long ago.'

‘It's a lot longer to me. Decades and decades.'

‘Okay. And that later, when you were an adult, you and White spent time with Jason and me. You met your own son when he was, what  … ? Older than you were at the time.'

She shrugged.

‘And that  … ' Frith battled on. ‘At some point after that, you went back to the past – this village in the past – to live out the rest of your life.'

She traced a knot in the tabletop with a finger.

He kept his annoyance in check. How could she believe such an insane version of her life? He tried to reason it out with her. ‘What you're saying, it's just not possible. You're saying that you're Rue, but there's also the Rue
I
know, the younger Rue, out there in World right now. At the same time.'

‘Seems like it, don't it?'

‘But you were her mistress. You
lived
together. Do you expect me to believe that it's possible the same person from different times could just  …  do that?'

‘I don't expect you to believe nothing. It just is. I can't tell you how it works.'

He couldn't help it. He laughed. ‘This is  …  very confusing.'

‘Just you try to see it from my way,' said Fernie. ‘You'll lose your marbles. I don't bother keeping track any more. I used to. I had diff'rent timelines written down, diff'rent memories, so I could work out which bits of my life were happening at what points to the Rue you know. But it's too hard. And I learned to just let it be.

‘All I can say is that everything that's happening right now – Rue runnin' off with you, and then to World; the Talented being possessed, and everything that happens after – it's already happened to me. I was the Rue living with my hedgewitch mistress, and then recruited by you. I was the Rue who went to Capital and met White. Ran away to World, lived with Wren. Tried to stop the Castle from being opened.

‘But I've
also
been the Rue who was there when Wren and White opened the Castle, and then paid the price. The Rue, the one called the Ghost Girl, who went back through the Castle and recruited
you
. Who changed the past to stop her future.'

Frith felt his blood, his life, draining from him.

The Castle. The Ghost Girl.

How could she know about that?

Had he told her, under the truth drug? But that was impossible – he'd only known about it himself a couple of days ago, once his memories had started to return.

‘I don't remember Ghost Girl Rue's life too good any more,' Fernie mused. ‘Funny thing about that – once you change the past, you forget the one you had before it. Reality heals itself and deletes your memories. I know I was her because I wrote it all down. I knew I'd forget, see. But I've only one past I remember properly now.

‘It just all got too complicated. And all I wanted was for it to be over so I could be with White. So I could make a life. And we did, after we closed the Castle. We had a life.' She grinned. ‘It was a good one.'

Frith tried to speak, but nothing came out.

Because, perhaps, a tiny part of him was beginning to believe her.

‘Then, well  …  to tell you the truth, I missed home. Things changed. Angle Tar changed – for the better, I think.' She nodded to him. ‘You helped in that, or rather you will. But I was alone by that point, and I'd just got so tired of all the adventuring. I'd seen all I wanted to see. And I thought and thought about it, and I kept coming back to this place, the way it'd been when I was a girl. It was the simplest place in the world. I understood it. I missed it. And I just wanted to bring my son up in it. That's all I wanted – to settle down and be forgot. I couldn't be forgot in the world we'd created. You'll see, in the future, what happens to the Talented. The best thing for everyone was if I just disappeared. So I did.'

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