Page 113 of The Lost Future of Pepperharrow

‘Six,’ Thaniel said, ‘when someone’s upset, you …?’

‘… consider it an objective problem with a solution.’ She looked Mori over. ‘Is a cherry bakewell the solution?’ she offered, much more humbly.

It made Mori laugh. ‘No, you keep it – sorry, where are you getting those in the middle of a siege?’

‘Mr Fukuoka is hiding in the larder,’ she explained, and gave him half her bakewell anyway.

‘I might have to look into that,’ Thaniel said. He couldn’t think of much in the world he wanted to do less than get up again, but he would regret staying idle if anyone else found Fukuoka first. As he went, Mori told Six he couldn’t remember the future anymore and that he might not know some of the difficult words.

‘You’re thinner too,’ she agreed, as if that were the same sort of thing.

Thaniel woke up early, struggling out of a dream where he’d still been locked in the room upstairs. Burrs of it held on for a long time, and he couldn’t work out at first where he was. He clipped Mori before he remembered he was there. But he was; he had moved the pillow aside so he could lie flat. He slept like someone had dropped him, and silent, but he was breathing when Thaniel touched him. The claustrophobia vanished, really for the first time all week, and the pressure around his lungs lifted so suddenly he felt off-balance. He sank down again and put his head against Mori’s shoulder.

From outside, the sound of the river traffic was seeping through the window pane; the barges were going to the sea for the tide. Thaniel lay still for about an hour, listening to the rivermen call and the smoky catch in his own lungs. The sun was soaking warmly through the back of his shirt. For once he hadn’t woken feeling like he was arranged around second-hand bones. He got up and lit the fire, and put on extra wood.

On his way back, he paused, because there was a ghost just forming itself on the rug, lying down, asleep. He leaned down gradually and moved his hands through it to clear it. The ghost jerked awake. It made him jump back before he remembered.

That night the soot handprints had appeared on his shoulders. He’d seen his own future ghost.

He edged back into bed. Mori came awake all at once. He frowned and brushed Thaniel’s shoulder, where the new sun must have been showing the ugly blast of the bullet scar. It still looked raw and wicked.

‘What happened there?’

‘Just an accident. I got in someone’s way. He wasn’t aiming at me.’

Mori didn’t ask for specifics. Eventually, he said, ‘Does it hurt?’

‘No,’ Thaniel said. He shifted awkwardly. He had known before that it was horrible to look at, but he’d managed not to pay too much attention. He hadn’t looked in a mirror yet. ‘It’s much better. You?’ Thaniel said. Mori was still holding his shoulder. ‘How’s the memory? Anything … coming back?’

Mori was quiet at first. ‘No. It’s a novelty.’ He shook his head once against the pillow. ‘I was doing it for years. I remember altering things about exactly where those prisons would be built, who would staff them, I remember choosing which carpenter would be hired. It’s bizarre not to remember what it was for.’

‘It will be something good. Honestly.’

‘I’m glad you think so, because a lot of people died while I was arranging them into the right places.’ Mori had his other hand around his own throat, the same as yesterday. This time, Thaniel moved it and set his own hand in its place to stop him, much more softly. Mori’s pulse was going as fast as a sparrow’s, but Thaniel felt him start to ease, and he wondered if it could be possible that Mori had scared himself so badly over the last month that the only way left to feel safe was to know there was someone who could strangle him if need be.

Mori shook his head a tiny fraction. ‘I can remember a tax receipt number I got in eighteen seventy-six,’ he said, almost laughing.

‘There must be a lot of freed up space in there,’ Thaniel murmured.

Mori nodded. He was still smiling, just, but it was the way Thaniel would have smiled if he’d woken up and found someone had amputated his arm. There was no use making a fuss, or upsetting anyone, but inside, everything screamed. ‘Is that Six’s owl?’ he asked, towards the window.

Owlbert was perched there, looking pleased with himself.

Thaniel took a breath and realised he owed Six an apology. ‘Yeah. He’s been waiting for you.’

Outside in the corridor, solid footsteps came their way. Thaniel watched the sound make dull mossy bursts, willing them to go straight past. Mori looked back too, very still. Thaniel didn’t say he would get used to not knowing, in case he didn’t.

Someone tapped on the main door in the living room. The cotton of the quilt cover creaked as Mori clenched his hands over it. Thaniel touched his chest, very lightly.

‘I’ll go. Stay there.’

‘No – no. I’m all right. Normally when I have no idea what’s about to happen, it’s because I’m probably about to die. It’s just – going to take some getting used to. Better just get on with it.’

He’d always thought that Mori was brave because he always knew what was going to happen, but that turned out to be a serious misjudgement of character. Mori went straight out. He hesitated with his hand on the latch, but only for a second. Thaniel waited a few feet back, leaning against the couch so that at least there were familiar things to turn back to.

It was the guard captain, who had come with some clothes, and with Katsu, who he’d found on the gatepost, sunbathing. Katsu burst out of his hands and coiled round Mori’s shoulder straightaway. Thaniel straightened, worried it would make him jump, but Mori only smiled and wound a free tentacle through his hand.

The guard captain looked ruefully pleased.