Chapter Two:

New Prentisstown

Lana watched from the treeline as the army left the ruins of Farbranch, her sister among them. She was relieved to see that her sister had bent to the will of their conquerors; Avery's situation was dire, but at least she was alive. The army marched towards the next settlement, Shining Beacons, and no doubt would head for Haven after that. She realised with a sudden horror that had she had the foresight, she might have gotten ahead of the army and warned the people of Shining Beacons what was coming for them. Now there was little Lana could do but pray that they might be better prepared.

Come the next morning, the fires which had engulfed Farbranch had burned themselves out. Lana returned to her desecrated town, knowing that she could not leave the bodies of her neighbours and friends to rot. She spent a long, godless day weeping in the streets as she worked to drag each of the bodies into the Town Hall with the slaughtered women; she could offer them no proper burial, no wise words like those which the Preacher would have said for them; but now the Preacher was dead, along with everyone else. With a heavy, heavy heart, Lana wept her goodbyes and set the barn alight. She released all of the town's animals into the wild, except for a white filly named Starlight who had belonged to one of her friends. With the barn still burning behind her and what little supplies she could carry, Lana rode away from the wreckage of her town. The smell of burning bodies would follow her for the rest of her life.

Lana had more experience stitching saddles than sitting in one, but she knew the route to Haven well from frequent trading with the town, where she would sell the clothing she made on market days. As she passed through Shining Beacons, she shared what little she had salvaged with a small group of survivors and helped them to put out the last of their own fires. The town had shone as brightly as its namesake. Some of the buildings they were able to save; others had just burned and burned.

Lana carried on towards Haven, stopping at each burnt-out settlement she found along the way and breaking bread with displaced settlers would tell her wild stories of the army; that they were cutting off people's heads, or gouging out their eyes. Lana dismissed all that as wild rumour, but even so sleep evaded her every night as she imagined her sister being forced to commit such atrocities. A couple of nights sleeping out in the rain between settlements lead to her coming down with a fever, and she was forced to rest at the next settlement they came across, a town called Carbonel Downs.

"Rumour has it the army's almost a thousand strong now," the town's Doctor had told her as he'd looked at her broken nose. "Haven would be better off not putting up a fight."

Lana was not one to surrender to rumour. She left the town before she was well enough to, and found herself trapped out in a storm so torrential that Starlight had almost bolted on her more than once. It was unsettling listening to the animals as they whispered all around; go home, Whirler girl. Go home.

When Lana finally reached the borders of Haven she was soaked to the skin with rain and too sick to even feel a sense of relief at having finally achieved her goal. It was almost morning, and the moons were visible against the sky, glowing like two white eyes amongst the coming red of the dawn. Haven looked like a ghost town as she led Starlight into the city. There was no movement on the city streets, and nothing but candlelight in the windows of the rows of houses. It was as though the whole world were sleeping. Crowning it all was the towering Cathedral, with its huge stained glass windows. Lana had never seen a building so enormous. If God had a house, this was surely it.

Lana found herself unable to think straight. She had lost track of the days, and the fever she might have recovered from in Carbonel Downs was only worse. She had been soaked through for days with no hope of drying off or getting warm. She squeezed the bridge of her broken nose, a thing which had become habit. The crackling of the cartilage and the pain which came with it served to focus her a little. She was weary of alerting the town to her presence, but knew for certain that she needed to find shelter or else pass out in the street.

Starlight began to pull at her reigns. Warm barn, the filly said. Lana turned to see stables just behind the Cathedral.

"Oh, good horse."

Lana stumbled along the rows of houses, allowing Starlight to lead the way. The stables radiated dreamy horse Noise, along with the Noise of the stable boy in the rooms above. He was having a nightmare.

As Lana slipped inside the barn one of the younger horses raised its head. She shrugged off her brother's soaked jacket that she might rub life back into her arms, which were blue to the elbows from the cold. Her fingers were whiter than sticks of chalk. Starlight slipped into a paddock beside the young horse without a second thought. The horse sniffed at Starlight's wet fur then turned its attentions to Lana, sniffing at the air.

Apple, Girl Colt?

Lana unzipped her backpack and scooped out a shrivelled-up swamp apple. She knelt beside the horse, the fruit in her shivering hand. The animal knickered at it. She offered another to Starlight, who was too tired even for apples.

Cold, thought the other horse, tensing a little. Sick. Dying.

"I'm not d-dying," Lana shivered through chattering teeth, putting her hand against the horse's black fur for support. He jolted a little at the cold of her. He felt so warm and wonderful that she gave a soft moan. She leaned against him, and he did not move away. It seemed all the effort in the world to pull her brother's jacket up over her shoulders, but she managed it.

Lost, the horse thought. Alone.

"I'm here, Avery," Lana said, shivering. "It's all going to be okay."

Only the horses were there to hear. Lana's eyes closed as she slipped away into the death of night.

~oOo~

Davy awoke on his uncomfortable mattress to the familiar smell of horse dung. He had been sleeping pretty poorly ever since arriving in New Prentisstown, and it he blamed it on the stench. He thought it absurd that the son of the new President should have to sleep above the stables, but his father had insisted that they could not live together in the Cathedral as Davy's Noise would keep him awake all night. Davy couldn't understand why his father hadn't given him one of the nice houses on the outskirts of the town set aside for his officers. When he had said as much to his father, he had received a lecture so long that it had left his ears ringing.

He flung away his threadbare bedding, put on the cleanest of his clothes and ate some tough jerky for breakfast. As he chewed his eyes fixated on the book he had taken from Todd Hewitt, the journal which his mother had left for him before she had died. Davy had been tempted more than once to peel open its pages, but avoided it almost with superstition. Those words from beyond the veil were not meant for him.

Davy could hear the Noise of the horses in the barn beneath him. His own horse, Deadfall, was calling for him.

"Yeah, I'm coming," Davy muttered.

As he pushed open the stable doors, he stopped in his tracks. A mysterious white filly was sandwiched in beside Deadfall.

"Where the hell did you come from?" Davy said, reaching out a hand to stroke her cheek. She flinched away, leaning into Deadfall. Deadfall nuzzled her ear, clipping his teeth over it fondly.

Starlight, Deadfall said, the word warm and fuzzy in his Noise.

Acorn, the filly clipped back.

"Oh yeah?" Davy chuckled, "found yourself a girlfriend, have ya?"

Girl Colt, Deadfall said, in a way that made Davy quit smiling. He looked down to see a girl curled up amongst the straw.

She was dead. He was certain that she was dead, that one of the soldiers had murdered her and dumped her body. Her skin was alabaster white, her face covered by greasy hair the same colour as the straw. When Davy brushed it away from her face he saw that her nose was badly broken, with speckled bruising beneath her swollen eyes. Davy stepped towards the girl, and the white filly stomped in front of him, warning him off.

"It's alright," Davy said, holding up his hands and crouching beside the girl. "I ain't gonna hurt her."

He was surprised to find that she had a pulse. He tried to wake her, but it was no use. The appearance of the mysterious horse suggested she'd arrived from somewhere else. Plenty of people had been caught trying to run away from New Prentisstown, but surely no one in their right mind would be trying to sneak in. Davy supposed he ought to take her to his father and let him ask the questions, but then he thought of the women who had been sent to Captain Hammar for questioning, and the state they often emerged in. No, no, that wouldn't do. She needed a doctor, not a prison cell... but if he took her to the Surgeon his Pa would find out about it by the day's end.

Davy frowned at the sleeping girl. Her lips were almost blue. He had to do something, and quickly. He saddled Deadfall and lifted the girl onto him, at which she briefly regained consciousness. He saw that her eyes were very pretty, even as they struggled to find his own. He pulled himself up into the saddle behind her, supporting her waist.

"You're safe," Davy said. He'd never been this close to a girl before. "I've got you."

The girl's head rested against his shoulder as she fell back into her dreamy state. Strands of her hair tickled his nose. He tightened Deadfall's reigns in his hands, and ushered him forwards into the morning mist.

~oOo~

Davy arrived at the Cathedral late that morning, and was met at the door by the newly-appointed Captain Collins.

"You're late," Collins said, stubbing out his cigarette against the wall.

"I overslept."

"Your father's busy now. You'll have to come back later."

"Piss off, Cliff," Davy said, barrelling the man in the shoulder and pushing past into the Cathedral. Davy burst into his father's new office, which had once been a room for private prayer. A stained-glass window depicting New World and its moons dominated the space. His father looked startled at his desk, his fingers hovering above a plate of pastries which served as his breakfast. He was not alone. Opposite him sat a young soldier in makeshift uniform; Davy was surprised to see that the soldier was a lithe, pretty girl with long blonde hair. There were no women were allowed in the army. He was even further taken aback when he realised that she had Noise.

"How many times to I have to ask you to knock, David?" said the self-styled President, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Come back later."

"Who's that?" Davy asked. Today was proving to be full of surprises.

"That's none of your concern. Go away."

Baffled by the girl with Noise, Davy settled for stealing a pastry from his father's plate and taking off in a huff. The President let out a sigh.

"You'll have to forgive my son," he said to the soldier, dissecting a pastry with his fingers. "Not everyone in this town is as well-mannered as you, Avery. It's been a pleasure to have you at my side during out campaign."

Avery struggled to meet the man's gaze. It had been a strange few weeks since she had left Farbranch. The army had plundered and pillaged every settlement along the President's warpath, picking up soldiers along the way, and by the time they had arrived in Haven the city was so petrified of the oncoming assault that they had surrendered without a drop of blood being spilled. The man in white, who Avery had come to know as President Prentiss, had christened the city New Prentisstown and begun to reshape it in his own image.

Avery's first night in Haven had been spent rounding up the enslaved Spackle natives with the other soldiers, hoarding them into a huge pen away from the main bustle of the city. It had been awful work, and Avery hated herself for it. She found that she hated herself rather more than usual since leaving Farbranch, her nights haunted by the atrocities she had been forced to commit to stay alive. After all that, but the President had seen to it that the women of New Prentisstown were separated from the men and moved to the Houses of Healing, three building which had once served as hospitals. The President said that it was necessary; the men had forgotten their place, and as a result the women had forgotten theirs. He believed it best that they should be kept separate until both parties had been reminded of their roles; how Avery fit into his new vision, the President had never elaborated upon.

To Avery's surprise President Prentiss had been nothing but kind to her. It was remarkable how quickly he had understood her identity when there were people from Farbranch who had known her all her life and still refused to accept her for the girl she was. Even among all the desolation they had caused as they had marched upon Haven, she had never once seen the President raise his gun or partake in any violence. He was always generous to his men, providing they worked hard and asked no questions. Avery and Alex had planned to sneak away from the army together after Farbranch, but they had been assigned to separate divisions and kept apart; not only that, but President Prentiss had always insisted that Avery's tent should be set up beside his, for her protection. The soldiers treated her well, knowing that the President was fond of her. He had treated her with such kindness and had such an aura of authority that she was beginning to believe that he should be in charge.

And then there had been his gift to her.

Avery knew that the reason the President had taken such an interest in her was because of her abilities in controlling her Noise. He had been very interested to learn how she had developed her skills, and had listened intently as she had described imagining a wall between herself and the outside world. In turn Prentiss had taught her his own tricks in calming his Noise, and they had been of such a help to her that she found herself incapable of despising the man. She wondered what Lana would think about that, and all the terrible things she had done since the day they had parted.

"I think you have a bright future here, Avery," the President said, wiping his fingers as he polished of his pastry. "You've proven yourself to be loyal and teachable. I think you deserve a reward. If you could wish for anything, what would it be?"

A picture of Lana flashed loudly in Avery's Noise. She attempted to squash it.

"Anything at all," Prentiss said encouragingly.

Avery had been plagued all her life by one problem. No matter how deeply she was accepted by those around her, it would always separate her in some way from being accepted for who she really was.

I'd get rid of this, she said with her Noise. Prentiss leaned forwards across the desk, flashing her a white-hot smile.

"I thought you'd say that. And that's why I want to give you a gift which I have only shared with a handful of others."

Avery prickled with excitement. Was he finally going to let her try Haven's Cure for the Noise, like so many of the other soldiers in the army? There was something serpentine about the tone his Noise had taken, something slithering and almost-silent. Avery felt it wrapping around her own Noise, constricting it the way a Boa might. She felt her head fill with a floating sensation as his Noise reached out to her, saying,

I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.

The words penetrated her skull and settled slowly behind her eyes. She became aware of a strange humming at the back of her head, barely audible.

"What did you do to me?" she asked.

"Listen," Prentiss said. "What do you hear?"

Avery listened. For the first time in her life, her ears searched in vain. With only the two of them in the room, there was nothing but silence.

"You shall have to practice it," Prentiss said, standing from his seat. "That intensity is mostly mine, and will fade; but it's a start, the same gift I've given to my Captains. Speaking of which, I'm assigning you to work under Captain Collins from now on. He's my most trusted man, so you'll be in good hands."

There were tears in Avery's eyes. The President could not understand the meaning of the gift which he had given. She leaned forwards and hugged herself close against his chest. He was startled, but let his hands rest across her back.

"Thank you," she choked. "Thank you."