“Very little actually needs replacing. The work is demanded of the Mi’aata simply to keep them occupied and enslaved. The Quintessence is a dictator, Aiden. Phenadoor is all the trinity wants it to be and nothing more. Inevitably, in reaction to such despotism, extremes are born, giving us monsters like Yissil Froon, whose desire to escape his fate as a component of this languishing autocracy has led him to seek power elsewhere. It’s sending him along a path of destruction that threatens to annihilate millions of innocents.”
I sat up, removed my robes, and wrung the water from them. “You think that’s his motivation? Well, one way or another, we’ll defeat him, and when we do, his hold over the Divergent will be gone. Perhaps when they reveal the truth of their origins to the rest of the Mi’aata, it will stimulate questions, and discontent at the suppression of imagination and creativity will cause an uprising. The Quintessence’s days might well be numbered.”
“What chaos Froon generates!”
We rested for a few moments longer. I looked at the sun. It was very low—its nadir almost on the horizon—and I realised my journey to the Forest of Indistinct Murmurings and subsequent time in Phenadoor had occupied a far, far greater period than I’d initially estimated. A deep longing overcame me—I wanted that infernal globe gone! I yearned for two little yellow eyes to look down upon Ptallaya again!
“We’d better move,” Clarissa said. “I can feel the Quintessence searching for me. I’ve learned from bitter experience that I can only resist his mental intrusions for short periods.”
I stood, put the robes back on, and, after wrapping the hood around my head to conceal my face, took up the pikestaff and led my companion around the ledge, into the cave, and onto the dock. A few Mi’aata were working at its far end and three were standing by the underconveyance’s gangplank, but otherwise Dock Twelve was sparsely populated. We slipped behind a stack of crates and, remaining concealed, moved around the periphery of the cave until we came to an arched opening. I took a tight hold of Clarissa’s arm, as if she was my prisoner, and strode into the open, giving the impression that we’d just entered through the doorway. One of the Mi’aata moved away from the gangplank and met us halfway to it.
“Mr. Sepik, we’ve been waiting.” I saw that his four eyes had a peculiarly distracted quality about them. Yissil Froon’s doing, for certain.
Imitating the witch doctor’s whispery voice, I replied, “Can we depart at once?”
“Yes. One of the Discontinued came aboard moments ago and our hold is now full. If more want to make the trip, they’ll have to try another vessel.”
I had no idea what he was referring to, but, acting on intuition, I asked, “What was this latecomer’s name?”
“Tharneek-Ptun.”
I gave a nod of satisfaction. Good! Colonel Spearjab had found his way aboard!
We followed the Mi’aata up the gangplank and entered the ship. Its corridors were narrow and its rooms small. We were escorted to a chamber and I was told, “These are your quarters. What shall I do with this one?” The Mi’aata looked at Clarissa.
“She will remain in my custody,” I answered. “I have to interrogate her.”
The floor suddenly vibrated.
“Ah,” the other exclaimed. “We are leaving Phenadoor. There will be time to sleep if you wish it. You can place your prisoner with the Discontinued in the hold at the end of this corridor.”
He departed.
Safely ensconced in the small room, I drained its trough and put my robes in the bottom of it. “This will be your bed, Clarissa. I’m afraid it won’t be very comfortable, but it’s better than nothing. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
We settled down, both too worn out to worry any more about our security.
“What happened to you in New Yatsill?” I asked.
“Poor Pretty Wahine,” my companion replied. “She pushed herself beyond all endurance trying to protect the Yatsill and her abilities eventually failed her. I’d just returned to the cave after a fruitless search for Yissil Froon when three Mi’aata burst in. Two grabbed me while the third killed the old woman. I was then dragged into the sea. I lost consciousness, woke up in one of these vessels, and was taken to Phenadoor.”
“I should never have left you,” I said. “My trek to the Forest of Indistinct Murmurings was a complete waste of time. Well, almost.”