City of Dust: Completely gripping YA dystopian fiction packed with edge of your seat suspense. Michelle Kenney

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СКАЧАТЬ cut off from the outside world for nearly two hundred years, Arafel was a paradise compared with the brown grit of Isca Prolet. I recalled my own astonishment when Unus and I had emerged out of the tunnels into the Prolet world – Pantheon’s genetic rubbish tip, and Aelia’s natural home. Life there was so engineered, disparate and exploited. It couldn’t in any way compare with life on the outside, which had recovered far faster than anyone had expected.

      I stole a glance across at the slight, elfin girl who had been so full of secrets in Pantheon. And now my mind was spinning with more questions, like one of Max’s water wheels, but I kept my lips pressed firmly together until we’d delivered the haga into the wide-eyed keeping of one of Eli’s volunteer helpers. It was only when we’d pulled the willow ladder back up inside our treehouse, that I allowed my curiosity to show. And Aelia’s nerves were as clear as Jas’s objection to the sudden intrusion.

      ‘Is this the actual cipher? Thomas’s cipher?’ she whispered, crouching to inspect the freshly swept floor of our small living space.

      Cursing silently, I nudged Mum’s handmade reed mat over the crude drawing with the heel of my foot. I’d thought so many times about erasing the charcoaled markings Thomas had painstakingly drawn out on our living-room floor, but it had always seemed sacrilegious, especially with Octavia and Cassius gone.

      Now, though, my inaction seemed foolish. Although Aelia had proven her real loyalty to the outside, I’d always sensed her scientific weakness for Thomas’s research and Octavia’s obsession with the Voynich Manuscript.

      ‘Its existence still isn’t well known in the village.’ I smiled apologetically.

      It would have been so much easier if Thomas hadn’t recorded the cipher to decode the only known genetic blueprint for mythical creatures.

      ‘And Art felt it was for the best – to protect the other villagers.’

      ‘Doesn’t seem entirely open, in such an open society?’ she commented, her eyes narrowed and suspicious.

      ‘Would have been far better to burn it – for the firewood it is!’

      Rajid’s low mutter cut across the small circle, and this was swiftly followed by another round of low growling. I shot a look at Jas’s sleek white body curled up in her bed, her yellow eyes watching our guests unwaveringly. She looked every inch the content treehouse cat, although her beautiful white jowls twitched unusually. I tried to assess her mood briefly, before returning my attention to our guests.

      We were sitting in a makeshift circle, around Mum’s clay cooking pot of fresh trout stew. The aroma was making my stomach grumble, and by the looks on their faces, it had been a good while since our guests had eaten too.

      Rajid was crouching, warming his hands by our fire. I shot him a careful look. Everything about him was at odds with Arafel. His manner was so cool and indifferent, and the mythical Cerberus snarling up his neck couldn’t brand him more a product of Pantheon, and yet he was here. In our forest home. I followed the purplish line of the ugly, salivating hounds, mesmerized by the reddened tongues hanging from their jowls, and wondered at the artistry that brought their bulbous eyes to life every time he swallowed.

      Who would choose such a mark?

      ‘So, tell us everything,’ I invited, as my mother ladled the steaming food into wooden bowls.

      She looked particularly tired and drawn tonight, and I could sense she was anxious. Eli had taken a shift foraging and hadn’t returned yet. And even though hunting in the outside forest was now deemed a lot safer, she never smiled until we were all back in the same room.

      ‘You mean, why am I here, disturbing your little corner of paradise?’ Aelia responded, her delicate features twisting up into a grimace. ‘Well, let’s see, where to begin?’

      ‘How is August?’

      The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it. And although it was just three words, lightly spoken, it felt as though they carried the entire weight of the treehouse on their back. I tried to ignore Max’s eyes boring into the side of my head, telling myself it was perfectly normal to ask about her brother, especially given everything we’d all been through.

      But a brief shake of her head undid every good intention.

      I stared at her, an uncomfortable flush crawling up my neck.

      ‘What do you mean? He’s … everything’s OK, isn’t it?’

      Max’s frown deepened into a scowl.

      ‘August hasn’t been seen for three months. Not since the Director General took his seat back in the Senate,’ Rajid interjected, staring into the fire embers beneath the cooking pot.

      I glanced at Max, my skin starting to crawl like I’d fallen into the fire ant nest myself.

      ‘The Director General? Cassius? He’s …?’

      ‘Alive? Yes,’ Aelia confirmed.

      A stunned silence pervaded the small rounded room.

      ‘The head wound Unus inflicted in the Flavium would have killed any ordinary Pantheonite, but as one of Octavia’s original fighting elite … well it turns out Cassius was pretty strong,’ she continued.

      ‘When the Flavium was cleared, the Scientific Generals had him transferred to the infirmary, where he remained in a comatose state until last month.’

      ‘But if Cassius is alive, August …?’ I whispered, feeling all my old nightmares start to stir.

      ‘… was instantly compromised,’ Rajid drawled with a glance at Aelia.

      ‘It turns out Cassius still commanded a loyal following among the elite Pantheonites, despite what happened in the Flavium,’ Rajid continued, his tone at odds with the gravity of his words.

      ‘And as soon as news of Cassius’s recovery began to spread, August’s new legislation was frozen by the Senate. Cassius played the game cleverly,’ he continued. ‘He didn’t immediately pull rank. Instead, he offered to work together with August, to bring about a fairer, more open Isca Pantheon that pursued the more … useful elements of the Biotechnology Programme.

      ‘He recruited old friends, like Livia, as his Empress-Consort Deputy.’

      My brain whirled as I tried to recall what I knew about the original mother of the Holy Roman Empire, though Aelia’s scowl already spoke a thousand words.

      ‘Livia … as in Livia Drusilla? Wasn’t she the real wife of Emperor Augustus?’

      ‘The wicked witch of Rome?’ Aelia responded, her top lip curling. ‘Yeah, she was a real shining beacon of womanly virtue … apart from the power games, treachery and systematic murder, of course.’

      I stared, feeling my world grey.

      ‘And Cassius was convincing,’ she continued, the dark circles beneath her eyes suddenly more noticeable. ‘His speeches in the Senate were persuasive, especially among the newly elected Prolet representatives. He nearly had me believing in his integrated school for every Prolet and Pantheon child, irrespective of genetic coding. He always was a powerful orator.

      ‘Besides, СКАЧАТЬ