***
I’ve lost a lot of time dealing with Dante’s bullshit so when I start after the mare and whoever’s taken her, I run. It’s not easy to keep to the trail at high speed but I’ve had a lifetime of focusing on small details so, other than a couple of false turns, it’s not impossible to stay on track. I’m confused, though, when I start passing the trees where I etched my little Zs. That can only mean the bastard who did this is heading towards the town.
I slow down. I can still see drops of blood that make me shiver and curse. I’m reminded of a school trip to a zoo where the unhappy polar bear paced up and down in a small enclosure. All I could think about was what had happened to make the poor bear end up in that situation? I know what it’s like to be caged and I can’t bear the thought of it happening to Pegasus or another mare.
I no longer make the distinction that the mares are not physically present in the real world. This place is now as real to me as anywhere else.
I reach the edge of the forest. This time I don’t stumble and fall when I pull out of the dark woods and into the sunshine and the town. I do, however, search frantically around for signs of someone dragging a mare with them. There’s nothing though. There are people, but none of them are doing anything out of the ordinary. I scan their faces but I can’t see anyone looking worried.
I’m about to turn round and head back into the forest in case I misinterpreted the tracks and they continue along the edge of the trees but then I notice faint scrapes on the cobbles at my feet. I crouch down to examine them more closely. They could have been made by a wagon or some sort of box; they’re far enough apart that a mare could comfortably fit between them. Thoughtfully, I stand up.
A shadow falls across my path.
‘Are you okay, Zoe?’ Bron inquires. ‘Have you just come out of the forest again?’
I meet his eyes. ‘Someone has captured a mare and brought her here.’
‘Captured a mare?’ He seems taken aback. ‘I don’t think–’
‘Are you saying you don’t believe me?’ I don’t need to deal with another Dante.
‘No, no. It’s just that I can’t think of anyone who would do that.’
‘Can’t you?’ I stare at him levelly.
He shrugs helplessly. ‘They’re wild animals. And vicious.’
‘They cause outliers to have nightmares. Is there someone here who wants ordinary people to have bad dreams?’
‘Why would someone do that?’
‘I don’t know, Bron. Of course, as far as the Dreamlands go there’s not much I do know.’ I point down at the marks. ‘I need to find out where these lead.’
He follows the direction of my finger. ‘Eh?’
‘The scrapes on the cobbles.’
Bron’s face clears. ‘Oh, I see them. You have good eyesight.’
I want to tell him that it’s nothing to do with eyesight and everything to do with paying attention but I merely grunt and start walking, keeping my gaze trained on the ground.
‘Wait, I know what these are from.’ Bron grins at me. ‘It’s nothing nefarious, it’s just the foragers. They collect bits and pieces from the forest that might be useful and take them to the Department.’
‘You mean the Mayor.’ My voice is flat.
‘I guess.’ He looks at me patiently. ‘It’s not a big deal, Zoe.’
I put my hands on my hips. ‘Would a mare be considered one those useful bits and pieces?’
‘They take leaves and plants and things like that. Test soil samples to make sure the Dreamlands stay constant. This place is important. People need their dreams.’
I turn away again and stride towards the Mayor’s ugly grey building. Bron catches my arm. ‘Where are you going?’ he asks, alarmed.
‘To see the Mayor, of course. I want to know what he’s doing with the mares,’ I say calmly.
‘Zoe, you can’t just–’
‘Watch me.’
I march down the street and across the square. I avoid looking at the statue although I’m aware there’s a group of people clustered round it, staring up at the dead old man’s visage.
Bron keeps up with me. ‘This really isn’t a good idea. You can’t just walk up to the Mayor and start making demands. It’s not how things work around here.’
‘You did. You bulldozed your way in after those men hit me on the head and dragged me in there.’
‘That was different.’
‘Why?’
‘Because...’ His tone is filled with frustration. ‘It just was.’
I take the steps two at a time, pushing open the front door and striding in. A stern-looking woman with a uniform that’s almost identical to the one Kevin was wearing at the Bubble stands in front of me.
She glowers. ‘You can’t come in here.’
‘Try and stop me.’