NINE

----.

Elodie stopped talking to me.

Or perhaps I stopped talking to her.

Either way, we didn’t say a word to each other as the days turned to weeks. She wrapped herself in preparing for the baby or reading her law journals while I wrapped myself in Ryon and the Capitol’s lies. When we passed each other in the hallway or ran into each other in the kitchen, we behaved like the wind through the trees. Present, but invisible.

Marietta and I remained friends. On the days when Ryon couldn’t take me into the city, we rode together, talking like nothing had changed. With the elixirs from the apothecary, her features became more defined, coupled with a smile that extended from cheek to cheek. She no longer resembled the sad individual staring out the window that I first met. Now, she laughed with such vigor, beaming as she stared at her own reflection in her handheld mirror before applying her pink lipstick.

At work, I continued to add slithers of truth in Captain Oberland’s reports. It wasn’t hard to figure out the lies. He circled around statements, backtracking on them until reaching a conclusion that sounded too simplistic or flat to be true. Often, I found secrets in the telegraphs as well, codes indicating vagrancy and attacks.

Some nights, I even dreamt of the tap-code coming through the golden plated telegraph machines.

.—. .. -

“Pit.”

. .-. .- -..

“Erad,” as in eradicated.

And more.

But even as I started inserting the truth into his narrative, I didn’t feel quite right. I was using my imagination to fill in the blanks. Coupled with the snips of tap-code, I described the Pit, or the way women cried as the guard dragged them away, and how children played with bones rather than toys. But what if I was wrong? What if I was the liar?

I often whispered my concerns to Ryon at night. He told me, each time, that I could stop. 

But I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t.

Not after what I saw. 

I spent every evening with Ryon. Some days, we explored the city, where Ryon would detail the histories of different buildings, or we would venture to the Black Market to listen to stories. Other times, we would go back to the farmhouse, where his family welcomed me with a hearty meal before we vanished into the barn. On others, he snuck into Elodie’s home, where we hid in the basement. Or we rode his buggy off into the woods to make love until the moon hung high. 

I often worried our flame would diminish, but instead of leaving scorch marks, it flickered like an eternal light. 

Everything continued in my favor. Ryon’s father allowed him to continue his work for the time being, and I saved money to move out of Elodie’s home. By the birth of the New Year, I would be free of Elodie’s glare.

I’d be free to be myself.

Things were going well, I had to say. Really. My civil act of rebellion had gone unnoticed; hints of the truth were working their way into the heart of the Capitol. 

Ryon was by my side through it all.

I should have known something would give.

And that’s when Jaida Heartz entered the narrative.

 

I remember it well. The brisk autumn air bit at my face as I climbed out of Ryon’s buggy, kissing him firmly on the lips. He draped his coat over my shoulders before vanishing down the road to complete his daily route. I always watched him leave on days when he took me to work, smiling to myself over the way the breeze caught his curls before turning towards the Capitol.

Nothing seemed different that day. Like all other days, when I arrived in Captain Oberland’s office, I started my housekeeping, filing away papers, recording the telegraphs, and humming to myself. The captain hadn’t arrived yet, but I didn’t mind. During these hours, I rewrote old memos, correcting parts where Captain Oberland discussed the utopian elements of the city and the human nature of relocation. A rush came with each treasonous act. If the Guard caught me, I might end up in the Pit myself. 

But many crimes are worse than forgery.

Besides, no one could identify the authors of these old memos. Yes, I was Captain Oberland’s scribe, but there were others before me and others now who sometimes stepped in my place. We each followed a standard handwritten scrawl, each letter identical to the next; it would take a lot to indict me by my handwriting alone.

I made sure not to alter every memo and record. There were simpler ones that didn’t require my invasion: guards watching over the farmer’s market, a woman arrested for murder, and other heart-wrenching events that resulted in death. These were the documents Captain Oberland spoke about in confidence, and I had telegraphs to confirm those tales. 

That day though, as I completed a few statements, a knock pulled me from my work.

“Enter!” I called from my desk.

A dark round woman strode into the room while pulling her dark, frizzy hair pulled back into an even bun. She raised one eyebrow at me. “Captain... Oberland?”

I rose to greet the woman. “Oh, no. I’m his scribe, Nanette Ivans. Captain Oberland isn’t in right now. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“My name is Jaida Heartz. I am Senator Heartz’s sister and assistant.”

I was sure Ryon had mentioned Senator Heartz to me at one point. He told me about all the different senators’ names and stances, but I often couldn’t keep up with him. I was still learning all the ins and outs of Rosada; I did only immigrate a few months earlier. 

For posterity’s sake, I merely nodded to Ms. Heartz. 

Jaida went straight to the point. “My brother would like reports on the Utopia Project. I heard Captain Oberland oversaw this endeavor.”

“The Utopia Project...” I whispered. My mind flared, my heart raced. I’d never heard of it before, nor had I seen anything in telegraphs. But I had a guess. “You mean... why we don’t have any criminals or vagrants in the city?”

“Yes.” Jaida stared hard at me. 

“Why does the senator need this information, may I ask?”

“It isn’t public knowledge yet, but the Senate is examining this project to implement it across the nation. My brother wants to understand the matter before casting his vote. Do you think you can help?”

My mind pounded. So, the rest of the senators didn’t know about the Pit? Did that mean there was hope for it to end? Or was her brother the type who would support it? 

I considered my options. Should I hand over my memos? Should I wait for Captain Oberland to arrive?

I finally replied. “Yes. If you would like, I can reserve a spot for you next week on the captain’s calendar?”

Jaida sighed, “That’ll be too late. I’ll ask someone else. Thank you, nonetheless.”

“Wait!” I jumped. Could this be my only chance to set things right?

She glanced at me. 

“I have not been told all the information, but I have some memos from the past three months that might help.”

“Oh?” 

I removed a pile of documents from the drawer. “These are all Captain Oberland’s reports over the last couple months regarding his progress. The Historical Records Departments file them every quarter. I can put in an inquiry for you for more details...as well as for the Utopia Project.”

Jaida took the memos from me and nodded. “I’ll start with these. If you could submit that request, it would be quite helpful. Thank you, Miss Ivans.”

I nodded, feeling quite small beneath her steady gaze.

And with that, Jaida Heartz left, carrying my pile of treasonous truths. 

 

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I submitted a request for the Utopia Project files, but other than that, I operated in a daze. It all happened so fast! What was I thinking? For all I knew, Senator Heartz might be in favor of this Utopia, a puppet placed by the Order, preaching to ban stories and magic. 

As soon as I finished, I raced out of the Capitol. Ryon waited for me on the steps. Rather than greeting him with my usual kiss, I tugged him into an alleyway. 

Once I was sure no one followed, I bombarded him with questions. “Ryon, please tell me everything you know about Senator Heartz! Does he support storytellers? What is his stance on magic? Is he on our side?”

“Nanette, Nanette, relax!” Ryon kneaded my shoulders. “I’ve never seen you this flustered.” 

“You don’t understand...” I explained in haste everything that happened. “I wasn’t certain what to do, but it might get the word out. So, I thought, why not? But now I’m worried it might implicate me.” 

Ryon chuckled, “Nan, I’ve talked about Senator Heartz plenty.”

“You talk about a lot of senators!” I protested.

“Yeah, well, Senator Heartz is one of the best. He is not an Order Puppet. The senator and his sister are probably some of the best people in that building... other than you, of course.” He winked.

I relaxed, “Oh... thank goodness.” 

He nudged my chin. “Just be a bit more careful. You’re risking your boss finding out... or worse. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“It’s part of my rebellion.”

He grinned so his gold tooth flashed in the light. “Yeah, you’re on fire like a sunset, Nanette. But, please, don’t burn yourself to the ground.”

“I’ll be careful. I promise.”

We kissed, then arm-in-arm, strode down the road away from the Capitol. The stories beckoned us from the Black Market. As we walked, Ryon inspected every little detail of my meeting with Jaida. He asked about her voice, to the way she moved. He spoke with such excitement; it was like listening to a child talk about their favorite animal or food. But a twinge of fear continued on his tongue. What if I got in trouble? What would he do if I were in danger? I couldn’t picture Ryon yielding a pistol or blade.

Perhaps we’d run away. Would that be the worst thing?

The usual mist whistling through the city grew thicker as we approached the Black Market’s usual corner. It pooled from our feet, clamored into the air, creating a black film that blinded us with ash. I squinted through it as the smoke wrapped its steel fingers around me. 

There, like demon shadows, stood a squadron of Guards. They stared me down, eyes narrow.

I recognized their insignia.

They belonged to Captain Oberland. 

Ryon approached them, trying to steal a glance down the alleyway. “What’s going on? We were trying to cut through...”

“None of your concern, kid,” the dark-eyed guard in charge snarled. “Move along.”

Ryon tiptoed to see over their heads. “Usually, it’s so empty down there...”

“I said move along, kid!”

“Ryon, come on. Let’s go. It’s not worth it.” I tugged on his sleeve.

“Yeah, well, I think it’s our right to know what’s going on, don’t you think?” His eyes flared. It was that determined look, the curious look.

The one that Elodie said bore danger. 

The one that Ryon said got him in trouble.

But I didn’t fear it. 

Ryon continued talking to the Guard. “C’mon. Just wanna make sure there’s nothing to worry about or anything.” 

The Guard shoved him back. Ryon hit the ground. Hard.

“I told ya to get a move on, kid.” The Guard jammed his steel-toed boot into Ryon’s face.

I screamed.

He kicked again.

I pulled Ryon away from the Guard after the third kick. His entire face dripped with blood from his nose and mouth. 

“We’re leaving,” I said. “Come on, Ryon.”

“Tell your fucker that he better stay in line. I doubt he wants to end up like the rest of them.” The Guard bellowed. 

I didn’t stick around to question the Guard. If Ryon was in his right mind, he would have... but I didn’t want to test fate. Instead, I helped him off the ground, glanced back once at the Guard, then led Ryon out of the alleyway.

“Fuckers...” He grunted as we collapsed on the side of the road. 

I pulled a kerchief from my skirt pocket and dabbed his face. “That was ridiculous...”

“I know! How could they—”

“No! You! What were you thinking? They might have killed you!”

“I was thinking they destroyed the market! All our storytellers... our friends!” Ryon gritted his teeth.

“Maybe they escaped...”

“But we don’t know that.” Ryon wiped the blood away from his face. “I get I was being dumb, but I needed to find out. Now it’s just gonna be another false history for the books. We’ll never know...”

“We can’t assume anything—”

“Cause it makes an ass out of you and me?” Ryon joked. 

I stroked back his hair and smiled. “Yes. But also… those are Captain Oberland’s men. I can find out tomorrow what the false story is. Because even if they got rid of the market, stories never truly vanish.”