Ihead back to the house, my mind whirring. It’s obvious, from the running toilet to the disturbed air, that the guardhouse was recently occupied. The clothing, when I emerged from the bathroom, had been cleared away. But who was the human I saw being pushed onto the coach? And where are they going? Is this an illegal hunt? There’s obviously guard involvement; the human one I saw getting on the coach, and possibly the vampire whose secrets Kyle seemed to know. But if humans are disappearing from the estate, which I have to assume from the discarded Raven clothing, why has nobody noticed?
A few missing sheep from a flock of millions.
Yeah. That’s why. Because of the shitty, shitty world humans have to live in now. My mother is still angry that people tried to kill her family. Yet there are humans out there who have losteveryone. What’stheiranger like?
Shit. We’re leaving in a matter of hours, but this seems important. The North Wind might be over, might have said they’re taking everyone to the Channel Islands, but what if they’re not? What if they’ve left cells behind, ready to continue what Mistral started?
Choose your fight. You cannot win one, if you focus on them all.
Another lesson from my father. He’s right, of course. My priority is to stop this Challenge before Mistral get the majority they need for it to go ahead. Civil war is unacceptable. The threat to my reign is unacceptable. The death of my father isunacceptable. This is where my focus needs to be.
But the strangeness of the guardhouse tugs at me as I sort through my dresses, piles of chiffon and velvet, like flowers strewn across my bed, ready to go in the huge travelling trunks. In the end, I decide to check the rosters. Humans are counted in, then counted out. Any discrepancy should be reported and flagged. At least, that’s my hope.
But when I ask Bertrand, and he leads me to a basement office, I find this isn’t the case at all. I didn’t tell him what I overheard, of course. Just that I wondered how we kept track of humans working here.
‘So, there are five fewer people arriving than left the estate, and that’s just on yesterday’s afternoon shift alone?’ I frown, flipping through sheets of paper. The vampire behind the desk, a young man with unusually flushed cheeks, nods, darting a glance at Bertrand. ‘It doesn’t look like there are ever the same amount of people leaving as arrive. I don’t even understand the point of making a list, if no one bothers to match up the numbers.’
‘If you’ll forgive me, my lady, the numbers change because the blood dancers work different shifts to the food hall. So, if there are dancers on the coach coming in, they won’t be counted coming out with the same shift because they’re still here. And if the dancers have a day off and want to go to the Safe Zone, they join the departing shift. And sometimes—’ the young guard pauses, looking down for a moment ‘—sometimes, humans don’t get to leave, if they are overcome in some way. So, the numbers are never going to match up.’
That list is never fucking up-to-date, anyway.
The words come into my head, suddenly. And the voice. It all clicks together. I take in a short breath.
‘My lady?’ Bertrand comes closer. ‘If you wish, we can change how we track the humans. And the ones who pass away, I swear they’re treated with dignity.’
‘No. I mean, yes. Sorry, what?’ I stare at Bertrand, my brows drawing together as I take in what he just said. ‘Humans aredyinghere? While they’reworking? That’s unacceptable.’
Both Bertrand and the other vampire look pained. ‘My lady, it’s not something that happens often. And it’s most often from natural causes, rather than … any misuse.’
‘I just…’ I swallow, feeling a bit sick. I turn my attention to the vampire behind the desk. ‘Perhaps we might take greater care with the health of those down here. If someone appears unwell, they shouldn’t be made to work.’
The laxness horrifies me, as does the idea of people dying down here, alone. No wonder that blood dancer was able to come in and attack my father, if no one is properly managing who comes in or out.
Then there’s the other thing. The human commander who saved me, when I was trying to get home after killing Kyle; I swear it was his voice I heard today in the guard hut, the same inflection and timbre.
And he wore a red-enamelled flower pin, just like the driver who dropped me and Laurel off at the estate. Who was the same person pushing the human onto the coach today. It has to mean something, surely. But who can I ask? Human guards and vampires don’t interact. That was clear when I was trying to get home, when the human guards didn’t even know I was missing, or who I was.
‘Emelia! There you are!’
Bertrand and the other guard bow as my mother sweeps into the room. Her cheeks are flushed, her onyx gaze gleaming. She’s obviously just fed. ‘I’ve been looking all over the house for you,’ she continues, frowning. ‘What on earth are you doing? Your father and I need to go through a few things with you before we leave.’
‘Did you know humans are dying while they’re working here?’
My mother’s eyes widen.
I wave the sheets of paper at her. ‘And the numbers aren’t correct. More people coming in than leaving, dancers on different shifts to the feed hall. This must be how that dancer was able to get in here and attack?—’
‘That’s quite enough.’ My mother doesn’t like to be reminded of that night. Her attention moves to the young guard at the desk. ‘Is this so? How are these humans being tracked?’
‘By numbers,’ I say, before he can answer. ‘Not names.’ Another thing that sickens me. ‘Even though each one of them is a person.’
My mother sighs. ‘Right. Enough of this. Emelia, we have things to do. Bertrand, can you make sure that humans are now tracked by name, as well as numbers? For security purposes. I trust I can leave this with you.’ She takes my arm, pulling me from the room.
I glance back over my shoulder. ‘Sorry,’ I mouth at Bertrand. He shakes his head, amused resignation gleaming in his blue eyes.
‘Honestly, Emelia.’ My mother takes me along the panelled hallway, then up the stairs into the main part of the house. I brace myself for the inevitable lecture.
‘I appreciate that you wish to change things, and both I and your father are keen to see you stepping up to rule,’ she says, as we cross the foyer. ‘But you need to learn that not every detail needs to be managed by you. This is why we delegate. It’s too much for one person to do.’
