The Refuge Song - Francesca Haig Page 0,101

hear him shouting. Maze of bones. Forever fire.

It took me more than an hour to reassemble the papers that he had kicked. When I finally slept, amid my visions of the blast and of Kip’s floating body, I dreamed of the crackle of paper, and the scent of mildew and ink.

Ω

. . . clearly cannot be considered a localized phenomenon. This is consistent with the reports of the most recent expeditions (40 and 41) which observed the proliferation of twins as far east as

Note 5: The improved health of the primary babies does not mean that we should be complacent—high infant mortality rates are still prevalent Topside. Interviews with Topside survivors report several instances in which even the primary twins who had appeared in good health have died suddenly. Given that these reported deaths were concurrent with the death of the secondary twins, who had previously been unwell, the most likely cause is some environmental factor, or an (as yet unidentified) acute virus. However, these reports are based on a sample size that is statistically insignificant . . . the task force remains confident that subsequent monitoring will show that the proliferation of multiple births will lead to an increase in both the (viable) population and life expectancy . . .

Ω

Every few days Piper came for me. “It’s not healthy,” he said, “just locking yourself away here.” He dragged me out for walks to the tithe collector’s office, or around the town, and questioned me about everything I’d found in the papers.

The streets of New Hobart had resumed a kind of normality. The broken shutters had been taken down, the windows nailed shut with rough-hewn planks to keep out the snow. The bakery had reopened, and a few stallholders once again traded in the market square. But it was a strange kind of freedom that we’d won for the town. The Council soldiers had been cast out, but the Ringmaster’s troops wore the same uniform, and still patrolled the walls.

Patrols of Omegas now joined them, taking shifts on the town’s defenses. Simon’s troops had been boosted by new Omega recruits from within the town. But the Alpha and Omega patrols bickered over shifts and duties. On one of our evening walks, Piper had stopped by the eastern gate to speak to some Omega troops who had just come in from a patrol. Waiting for him, I overheard one of the Ringmaster’s soldiers mocking the legless archer who was replacing her in the sentry tower for the next shift.

“What are you going to do if the wall gets breached?” the departing sentry said to him, as she watched him haul himself up the ladder to the tower. “Drag yourself into battle against mounted troops?”

The Omega didn’t reply, and kept hoisting himself up the wooden struts, bow slung over his shoulder.

There’d also been scuffles and brawls between the Ringmaster’s soldiers and the residents they were supposed to be protecting. There were arguments, for instance, because the Ringmaster had wanted to maintain the identity papers. Piper told me that a large group of residents had gathered on the steps of the tithe collector’s office and fed their papers to a bonfire. The remnants of the fire were still there the next day, a black smudge on the snow.

The town’s residents were free to come and go now. Many took what they could carry and headed east. Hundreds so far, Piper said, and probably more who’d leave if they had anywhere to go, and if the winter were less harsh. I couldn’t blame them for leaving. We all knew a counterattack was likely. Our scouts and lookouts were already reporting Council troops gathering, only miles from the walls. They hadn’t encircled the town—and the Ringmaster was confident that he could match the Council’s numbers if it came to another battle, or an outright siege. But it never did. The Council’s soldiers simply watched and waited.

Within the town all the soldiers were on edge, Alpha and Omega alike. Without the urgency of battle, this was what they were left with: patrolling in the wind and snow. Poor rations, since traders were still avoiding New Hobart and the early snow had damaged the winter crops. It was a ruthless winter, and fuel for fires was scarce. The nearest stretches of the forest had been burned, and many townsfolk were reluctant to venture far from the walls, with the Council’s soldiers gathering. In the streets, Piper and I passed people bent under loads of wood salvaged from

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