CHAPTER 10

I raced through the paths bending around each building with Nalin crutching after me. We ran to Gerrard’s rooms, but upon finding them empty, we resorted to asking random people on the path where he was. Most ignored us, but some were polite enough to say that they didn’t know. An old Trigon man pointed us toward the direction where he had last seen the general. We hoped he was still in the vicinity.

“Maybe we should look for General Devonport or the boy instead?” Nalin suggested.

“No, Gerrard will know how to best handle this.” I was sure of it.

As we turned the bend in the path, we found the man we needed. Gerrard stood in the shade of a building with a person’s neck in his grasp. He was holding someone against the wall, murmuring intimidating words to their ears.

“It’s her,” an astonished Nalin whispered by my side.

In the dim shadows, I could barely make out the facial features of the girl I bumped into earlier today. Her face was marred by a distasteful glare directed entirely at the general. It was a cold look, but Gerrard seemed unaffected by it.

“Lynette,” Gerrard growled, shaking her pretty little neck in his hand. “This is your last chance to tell me where the papers are. I know you have them.” I saw his grip tighten.

“Never,” she choked out, gagging on the bit of air she managed to obtain. Gerrard’s grip tightened further and I saw his knuckles turn pale as Lynette’s face blanched.

“I have a feeling I know where they are,” I said, stepping out from the other side of the building. Lynette’s face turned even paler, though I wouldn’t have thought it possible at that point. I brought my face close to hers. “Do you remember me?”

I took the liberty of slipping off her sweater, revealing a ragged Red shirt underneath it. The cardigan didn’t seem like anything special. It had a row of Red buttons, some missing, some broken, that trailed down like small beads rolling off a tabletop, but that wasn’t what first caught my eye. I had thought it quite odd when I saw her wearing the sweater this morning with the weather being as temperate as it was. I searched the cardigan, until my fingers caused the crinkling of paper. I reached into a sewn-on pocket on the inside back of the sweater and, as I suspected, the papers were there.

Gerrard’s grip on her neck slackened and he pushed her away from the wall. “If you know what’s good for you, scram.”

“You’re just going to let her go?” Nalin asked, voicing exactly what was on my mind.

“She doesn’t have the papers. Without them, she’s useless, both to us and the White.”

“You mean they’ll ... they’ll kill her?” Nalin asked.

“Precisely,” Gerrard said in a cool, reserved manner that I thought was very much unlike him. “Think of it as them taking out the trash for us. That way we don’t have to.”

I had never seen him speak like this, but then again, I had never seen him almost strangle a spy either. It was a different man in front of me and, although I knew it was necessary in these times, I didn’t like this side of him.

“We should go to my rooms,” Gerrard said, as he looked around.

People were congregated around us gawking. I knew they hadn’t seen anything since they came well after Lynette had disappeared. However, having an audience made us all feel uneasy.

Trying to act relatively normal, we walked to the general’s chambers. Out of breath, but still filled with adrenalin, Nalin and Gerrard both puffed. Knowing I was supposed to feel something, anything, confused maybe, but not feeling anything at all, I felt out of place.

We reached the general’s rooms and closed the door behind us. Locking the world away on the other side, it was a safe haven for us.

“You have the papers?” the general asked.

I confirmed the fact to their relieved sighs and laid them out on his desk.

There were at least twenty pages in all. Maps, drawings, notes; there was page after page of information on our cause. One page caught my eye. It was an unmistakable drawing of my room. The window, the desk, and the bed were in their right places. Even the quilt covering the bed had the correct patterns on it and there, beneath the quilt, I saw something that resembled a head. It was mine.

“Some of these are copies of my maps,” Nalin said, picking a few sheets out of the pile.

“Then we know they’re not safe,” Gerrard said. “We can move you to one of my rooms where you can stay under the security of my guards.”

“That would be helpful,” Nalin said. “I just ... I didn’t know that they were spying on me, too.” I knew he must have been shocked that the White had sent out a spy to keep tabs on him as well.

“That’s why it’s called spying, Nalin.” the general replied gruffly. “Everyone is spied on and no one’s life is private anymore.”

“We have to tell the commander,” Gerrard said. I knew all of us thought of the deceased commander when he said that. But we had to remember that the commander was really only a title, a position to fill, and though I filled it now, to everyone else the boy was their commander.

“We have to tell the commander,” Gerrard said. I knew all of us thought of the deceased commander when he said that. But we had to remember that the commander was really only a title, a position to fill, and though I filled it now, to everyone else the boy was their commander.

Gerrard sent one of his assistants out to get the boy. While waiting, he led us to a room deeper in his quarters. The furnishings of the room, a bed and a bedside table, were sparse, but they were made up for by the rich wallpaper and carpet that seemed to envelope us all within itself.

The walls were decorated with none other than light. It was a painting, but the light seemed real. It glowed and danced in front of our eyes. At the same time, the light was both all colors and none. It undulated, hugging in shadows. The light sprawled out and touched all corners of the room. There was nowhere it couldn’t go.

“The walls are breathtaking,” Nalin said and, truly, they were.

“They should be,” Gerrard said with his familiar laugh. It lit his face up and he seemed more like the man I used to know. “I paid your grandfather a pretty penny to get him to paint them.”

“My grandfather?” Nalin asked, as his hand reached out to touch the light.

We heard a sudden noise coming from the other room and everyone stood rigid. Gerrard cautiously opened the door, but relaxed upon seeing who it was. The boy strolled in and joined us.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Is everything all right? Is anyone hurt?” He sounded alarmed.

Gerrard reassured him that no one was hurt and everything, for the time being, was fine. “We found these,” Gerrard said, tossing him a few of the papers.

“I don’t understand the meaning of this,” the boy said. “What are these?”

“They’re maps and notes,” Nalin told him.

“I can see that,” he replied a little testily. “But where did they come from? Are they yours?”

“A few of them are,” Nalin responded honestly. “But they’re copies.”

“Copies? I specifically asked you not to make copies,” the boy said. “If they got into the wrong hands ...”

Nalin cut him off. “I didn’t make those copies.”

“Then who did?” the boy demanded. “And what do you two have to do with this?” he asked Gerrard and me.

“Lynette did,” Nalin said.

“Lynette? What did she want with the copies?” The boy was still not putting two and two together.

“She wanted to give them to the White,” Gerrard interrupted his confusion. “She was a spy.”

“A spy? Lynette?” The new commander sunk down onto the bed looking more like a boy than the leader of a rebellion. “I almost entrusted the cause’s representation to a spy.” he mumbled, cradling his head in his hands. To the general, he simply asked, “Did you take care of her?”

All of us in the room knew what he meant, but none of us, including the boy and Gerrard, could voice it aloud.

“Yes.”

“This goes to confirm all the more that we need a confrontation with the White,” the boy said looking at me.

“A confrontation?” Nalin asked. We had forgotten that he was the only one here who didn’t know of the boy’s plans.

“A face to face talk with the White,” the boy explained.

“I’m ... I’m not sure that’s a good idea ...” Nalin started.

“Save your breath,” the boy said. “I’m sure I’ve heard your argument before, but we have to do whatever we can to prevent a war.”

“Even if doing so is against the people’s wishes?” Nalin asked. It wasn’t his place to ask, but as the boy remained silent, he seemed to have hit at something.

When the boy eventually spoke, his answer was against what Nalin had hoped. “Yes.”

“And you’re fine with this?” Nalin turned to me.

“I trust the boy,” I said, making it clear I backed him up. “Though I am the leader of the cause, the boy is the face of it. We need unity in our midst.”

The silence was deafening in the room. After I had spoken the final words, no one had dared appose me.

“Speaking of the confrontation,” Gerrard said in an attempt to ease the mood around us. “I’ve drafted the letter.” He walked across to his desk to get a piece of Red paper and promptly handed it to the boy.

All eyes were on him, as he attentively read over the letter. He looked to me for permission and upon receiving it, he gave the letter back to Gerrard. “Send it immediately,” he stated.

Gerrard handed the letter over to his messenger with the same instructions. The messenger left at once, the entire weight of the cause resting directly on him.