The Ask and the Answer (Page 85)

That gets him moving. I turn about face and go towards the lobby. Two guards watch me walk past. “What’s going on?” one of ’em asks.

“What’s going on, sir,” I snap without turning round. I walk out the front door of the Office of the Ask, down the little path and out the front gate.

Where it’s almost peaceful.

And there’s Angharrad.

Davy musta brought her.

“Hey, girl,” I say, coming up on her slow, rubbing her nose. Boy colt? says her Noise. Todd?

“It’s all right, girl,” I whisper. “It’s all right.”

Hurt, she says, sniffing at the dried blood still on my face. She takes her big wet tongue and gives me the sloppiest lick right across my mouth and cheek.

I laugh a little and rub her nose again. “I’m okay, girl, I’m okay.”

Her Noise keeps saying my name, Todd Todd, as I move to where my bag is still tied to the saddle. My rifle’s still there.

So’s my ma’s book.

I’ll bet Davy brought that, too.

I untie Angharrad’s reins from the post and lead her out onto the road a little bit till she’s pointing right at the gate with the big silver A. “Gotta give a little speech,” I say, tightening the saddle. “Better from up top of you.”

Boy colt, she says. Todd.

“Angharrad,” I say.

I put my foot in a stirrup, hop up and swing my leg round till I’m sitting in the saddle, looking up at the sky. It’s not darkening yet but the sun’s getting down towards the falls. Afternoon is ticking away.

There ain’t much time.

“Wish me luck,” I say.

“Forward,” Angharrad whinnies. “Forward.”

The guards look up at me and back to Ivan who’s trying to get ’em to stop talking, which would only help if they shut up the clatter of their Noise, too, cuz it’s wailing like sheep on fire.

“He’s a lieutenant,” Ivan’s saying to ’em.

“He’s a boy,” another guard says, one with ginger hair.

“He’s the President’s boy,” Ivan responds.

“Yeah, and you were sposed to take him into town, Private,” says another with a big pot belly and Corporal stripes on his sleeve. “Don’t tell me yer disobeying a direct order.”

“The Lieutenant gave me a different direct order,” Ivan says.

“And he overrules the President, does he?” says Ginger Hair.

“Come on!” Ivan shouts. “How many of you got this assignment as punishment for something?”

That quiets ’em.

“Yer an idiot if you think I’m following a boy to face the President,” says Corporal Pot Belly.

“Prentiss knows stuff,” says Ginger Hair. “Stuff he shouldn’t.”

“He’d have us shot,” says another soldier, a tall one this time, with sallow skin.

“By who?” says Ivan. “The army’s all off fighting the war while the President sits in his blown-up cathedral a-waiting for me to show up with Todd here.”

“What’s he doing there?” asks Ginger Hair. “Why ain’t he with the army?”

“Ain’t his style,” I say. They all look up at me again. “The Mayor don’t fight. He rules, he leads, but he don’t pull no triggers and he don’t get his hands dirty.” Angharrad feels my nervousness and steps a little to one side. “He gets other people to do it for him.”

Plus, I try to hide in my Noise, he wants to talk to me.

Which in a way feels worse than war.

“And yer gonna overthrow him, are ya?” asks the Corporal, crossing his arms.

“He’s just a man,” I say. “A man can be defeated.”

“He’s more’n a man,” Ginger Hair says. “People say he uses his Noise as a weapon.”

“And if you get too close to him, he can control your mind,” says Sallow Skin.

Ivan scoffs. “That’s all just grandmothers’ tales. He can’t do nothing of the sort–”

“Yes, he can,” I say, and once again, all eyes turn on me. “He can hit you with his Noise and it hurts like hell. He can look into yer mind and try to force you to do and say the stuff he wants. Yeah, he can do all that.”

They’re staring at me now, wondering when I’m gonna get to the part that’s helpful.

“But I think he’s gotta make eye contact to do it–”

“You think?” says Ginger Hair.

“And the Noise hit ain’t fatal and he can only do it to one person at a time. He can’t beat all of us, not if we all come at once.”

But I’m also hiding in my Noise how much stronger it was when he hit me in the Arena just now, how much more potent.

He’s been working on it, sharpening his weapons.

“Don’t matter,” says Sallow Skin. “He’ll have his own guards. We’d be walking right into our deaths.”

“He’ll be expecting you to escort me,” I say. “We can walk right past the guards to where he’s waiting.”

“And why should we follow you, Lieutenant?” asks the Corporal, getting sarcastic on my rank. “What’s in it for us?”

“Freedom from tyranny!” Ivan says.

The Corporal rolls his eyes. He ain’t the only one.

Ivan tries again. “Because as soon as he’s gone, we take over.”

Less eye-rolling this time, but Sallow Skin says, “Anyone wanna be ruled by President Ivan Farrow?”

He says it to get a laugh but it don’t get any.

“What about President Hewitt?” Ivan says, looking up at me with a weird glint in his eye.

Corporal Pot Belly scoffs and says again, “He’s a boy.”

“I’m not,” I say. “Not no more.”

“He’s the only one a-willing to go after the President,” Ivan says. “That speaks for something.”

The guards look from one to another. I can hear all the askings in their Noise, all the doubts rattling around, all the fears confirming one another, and in their Noise I hear the idea being defeated.

But in their Noise I also hear how it can be saved.

“If you help me,” I say, “I’ll get you the cure.”

They all shut right up.

“You can do that?” Ginger Hair asks.

“Naw,” says the Corporal. “He’s bluffing.”

“It’s stockpiled in the cellars of the cathedral,” I say. “I saw the Mayor put it there himself.”