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Inez returns a few hours later. I can tell with one look at her ashen face that something’s wrong, so I follow her behind a caravan and find her sitting in the shade, knees drawn up to her chest, staring off into space.
“Inez,” I whisper, sitting beside her.
“Mary,” she automatically corrects me.
“Are you OK... Mary?” I ask, phrasing it with a little chuckle.
“Gone,” she croaks. “They’re all gone.”
I say nothing, not wanting to ask annoying questions, figuring she’ll share if she wants to share.
After a couple of minutes, she groans and looks at me. “There were people who had promised to help me. Four brave, loyal allies. I went to discuss things with them today, only to find...” She falls silent again, then sighs. “Three are definitely dead. The fourth is missing, but he’s either dead, being held captive, or has fled. Either way, he’s of no use to me now. I’m alone.”
“Not completely alone,” I say softly. “There’s Baba Jen. And me.”
“And the pair of you are more important than ever,” she says. “But without the rest of the team...”
“Is it hopeless?” I ask. “Do you want to give up?”
“I can’t,” she says. “And no, it’s not entirely hopeless, but it’s going to be harder than ever.”
“So what do we do?” I ask.
Inez thinks about that before answering. “For the moment... nothing. I’ve had a rough plan B in place all along, and I’ll work on refining that, or even hatching a plan C. I’ll use the time between now and the vote to plot and scheme a bit more. If we’re lucky, I might be able to find someone else who can assist us.”
“Will we carry on working with the thesps?” I ask.
She nods and forces a smile. “It’s important that we maintain the pretence that we’re part of the show, so let’s go do our jobs before Dermot sacks us and we find ourselves in an even more precarious situation.”
Inez joins me in sorting through the props and laying them out neatly, but we’re not at it long before Dermot calls us aside, along with Kamran and Shu-Feng.
“We need you to take a break from this and go promote the show,” he says. “Walk the streets, tell people what we’re up to, encourage them to come check us out.”
The other three must have known this was coming, as they accept the assignment without asking any questions. I’m not sure what to do at first, but after a while I see that there’s no great trick to it. We ignore people who are busy, by themselves, or on the move, and focus on small groups who are taking it easy, hovering at street corners or on benches, or sitting around tables in restaurants and bars.
When we introduce ourselves, one of us asks if they might be interested in seeing a show. If they say no, we cut the pitch short. If, on the other hand, they’re receptive, we tell them about the sketches and the quality of the thesps.
We provide directions to lot 173T at the end of every spiel, although we’re vague about timings, because there are no set performance times. The actors will kick into life once a crowd has formed. That’s how things happen in the Merge.
“Well done, Archie,” Inez says after I’ve improvised and told a trio of initially sceptical women that the show is a cross between Matilda and Evita. “You sold that to them nicely. But what are those shows you mentioned?”
“Musicals,” I tell her.
“I saw Evita,” Shu-Feng says. “It was great.”
I pull a face. “It didn’t do much for me.”
“It’s a classic,” Shu-Feng coos, and starts to sing one of the songs. I laugh and join in. I even do some dance moves with her, to the amusement of Inez and Kamran.
As we’re finishing, someone claps slowly. We stop and turn. Three teenagers are standing behind us, two boys and a girl. One of the boys is tall, with light brown hair, a small scar on his right cheek – it looks like the number 9 – and fierce green eyes. He’s dressed in wine-coloured trousers and a crisp, white shirt, with black, pointed shoes.
“That was beautiful,” the tall boy sneers.
“Can we make a request?” the girl asks.
All three laugh.
I share a startled glance with Shu-Feng – she’s blushing – then look to Inez and Kamran for support. Kamran is glowering, but Inez is staring at the boy with an odd expression.
“I’d like to see you do better,” Kamran says gruffly.
“You won’t,” the tall boy says, “because we’re not in the habit of making fools of ourselves in public.”
“She sung like a ventriloquist’s dummy,” the girl says.
“And he was even worse,” the other boy adds, pointing at me.
“We didn’t know we had an audience,” I growl, stung by their remarks.
“Would it have made a difference?” the tall boy smirks.
“Yes,” I say, squaring up to him. “We’d have sung more slowly.”
“Why?” he frowns.
“Because the three of you look a bit slow,” I say, loving the way his face darkens.
“You can’t speak to me like that,” the tall boy snaps.
“No?” Kamran says sweetly. “What’s so special about you?”
“He’s a duke elect,” the girl says proudly.
“Of where?” Shu-Feng asks. “A swamp?”
Kamran laughs and I laugh with him, but Inez says nothing. She’s still looking at the tall boy, eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
“Gasterby,” the boy with the scar says icily and the smiles disappear from Kamran and Shu-Feng’s faces.
“That’s in Ruby,” Shu-Feng gasps.
“Ten out of ten,” the other boy says.
“Ruby?” I say weakly. “That means you’re...”
“SubMerged,” the duke elect says, then steps forward to eyeball me menacingly. “So how slowly do you want to sing for me now?”
I look around at the others uncertainly, not sure how to react, but Shu-Feng looks sick and Kamran is chewing his lip uncertainly.
“Are you going to apologise?” the girl says.
“For what?” I ask.
“Offending me with your presence,” the duke elect snarls.
Inez clears her throat. “Your status means nothing here. Cornan’s full of nobles at the moment, dukes, earls, barons and more.”
The tall boy’s nostrils flare. “That doesn’t mean people can go around insulting me,” he says coldly.
“You insulted us first,” Inez says. “We’re entitled to reply in kind. People are free to say what they want in Sapphire.”
“No they’re not,” the other boy snaps.
“Yes they are,” the tall boy corrects him, and smiles at Inez. “I’m Kurtis.” He nods at the boy and girl. “Dai and Poppy.”
“Mary,” Inez lies. “Archie, Kamran and Shu-Feng.”
Kurtis makes the greet and we return the gesture grudgingly.
“Are you a thesp?” Kurtis asks Inez.
“A seamstress,” she says. (That’s her cover story.)
“Then feast your eyes on my fine clothes,” Kurtis says, giving her a twirl.
Inez sniffs. “It’s a nice outfit, but it’s not from Ruby.”
“You’re right,” Kurtis says. “I got it here. How did you know?”
“I’ve studied the fashions of Ruby,” Inez says. “We feature lots of villains in our plays and we like to dress them accurately.”
Dai and Poppy scowl, but Kurtis laughs again. “What do you guys do?” he asks the rest of us.
“We mind our own business and don’t go around being nasty to people,” I say.
Kurtis studies me as if I was a curious insect. “You’ve a short temper, Archie. It complements your short stature.”
“Leave it,” Inez says before I can retort.
“But –” I begin.
“Why get into a fight?” she stops me. “He insults you, you insult him, he insults you... How long do you want to carry on?”
“You’re right,” Kurtis says. “We’re behaving like infants. Sorry, Archie and Shu-Feng, we were wrong to mock your singing. Please forgive us.”
Shu-Feng nods but I hesitate.
“You’ll look bad if you don’t accept his apology,” Kamran whispers.
“Should I care?” I huff, but nod curtly.
“So,” Kurtis says, smiling at Inez again, “where are you guys performing and is the show worth seeing?”
“It’s great,” Kamran says. “All about the dangers of voting for the SubMerged.”
I expect Kurtis to growl, but he only sighs. “Not another one. I’ve seen a dozen anti-realignment plays over the last few days. I’m bored of them. Bored of Cornan as well. Too many trees.”
“You’re wrong about that,” Inez says. “This is a charming, exciting city.”
Kurtis cocks his head. “You’re seeing more than me then. Perhaps you could show me what I’m missing?”
“Perhaps,” Inez says as I gawp at her.
“I’d ask you to take me on a tour,” Kurtis purrs, “but I’ve things to do. Maybe I could meet you at your campsite later?”
“I’ll see if I can make some time for you,” Inez says airily and turns to leave.
“Wait,” Kurtis stops her. “You haven’t told us where you’re camped.”
Inez winks at him. “If you can find us, I’ll be your guide. If you can’t...”
“I relish a challenge,” Kurtis grins, then heads off with Dai and Poppy, who look about as impressed by the bit of interplay as I am.
“What was that about?” I snap at Inez, who’s staring after the departing trio with an almost dreamy expression.
“Excuse me?” she says.
“I thought the SubMerged are our enemies.”
“They are.”
“So why were you flirting with him?”
Inez blushes but shrugs. “There’s nothing wrong with a bit of flirting, even with a SubMerged.” She whirls, sets her sights on a group of men drinking outside a pub, and hurries over to try to tempt them into coming to our show.
“Can you believe that?” I ask Kamran and Shu-Feng.
“No,” Kamran says.
Shu-Feng smiles. “He’s tall, good-looking, dresses stylishly, and he’s going to be a duke one day.”
“But he’s SubMerged,” I thunder.
Shu-Feng sighs. “Our hearts are drawn wherever they’re drawn.”
She goes over to join Inez. I share a bemused look with Kamran, then we follow the girls across.