‘Oh yeah? How would you know? You’re just a ...’ Damn it. Just a tracker. I stop running and look at him. ‘Fine.’ I sigh. ‘Which way is he?’
He jerks his head in the opposite direction. I narrow my eyes but he simply laughs and holds up his palms. ‘I’m telling the truth.’
I swallow my pride. ‘Will you take me there?’
His silver eyes glitter and I feel an odd flutter in my stomach. ‘Of course. There’s no need to run, though. He’s not going anywhere for a while.’
‘How can you tell?’
‘It’s part of my tracking skill. I know when someone’s about to wake up.’
‘And can you track someone in the real world?’
‘No. So you don’t need to worry. I still don’t know who you really are or where you live.’
‘I’m not worried,’ I lie.
He smirks at me and takes my hand. ‘Of course you’re not. Come on.’
We walk in silence for several minutes. ‘So what’s new with you?’ Dante eventually asks.
I’ve just been detained on suspicion of committing a double murder, I think. Except I know he’s only trying to take my mind off the MailQuick man’s shouts. I shrug awkwardly. ‘Apart from witnessing the Mayor kill someone? Not much.’
He sighs. ‘I’m sorry you had to see that.’
‘We could have tried to stop him.’
‘Then you’d be dead too.’
He’s still holding my hand so I pull it away and absently rub my fingers. ‘Why hasn’t someone done something about him?’
‘You mean the Mayor?’ Dante sighs and pushes back his hair. ‘I know it sounds easy enough but it’s not.’
‘Try me.’
He looks at me grimly. ‘Let me give you an example. After you left yesterday, a few of the more vocal Travellers demanded to know why the Mayor was keeping the mares captive.’
I brighten almost immediately. ‘And?’
‘And he did what he always does, he spun them a story. He told them that the mares were becoming dangerous, that they’d attacked Dr Miller without provocation and killed him.’ I gasp. Dante nods and continues. ‘He said he didn’t want to hurt them or kill them, but to keep everyone safe he was running a programme to capture them all so they didn’t hurt anyone else.’
‘And people believed that?’
‘Even if they didn’t, what’s the alternative? Challenge him? The Mayor knows who everyone is. He’s had people mapping out the Bubble for years. Goodness only knows who he’s found. If he knows which door your wife or husband is behind, he can see what they are dreaming, understand their deepest hopes and fears.’
‘So?’
‘What secrets do you keep, Zoe? What things are you trying to hide?’
I’m tempted to tell him that until Salib collapsed at my door, I was remarkably uncomplicated. Instead, however, I say quietly, ‘Ignorance is bliss.’
Dante agrees. ‘For most people, sadly, it is. And the Travellers know it. The only good thing is that the Mayor no longer has any mares he can send through those doors.’
I mull over his words. ‘So we need to turn the tide of public opinion against him. That way he can be kept away from the Bubble.’
‘We do but we can’t afford a civil war. The world can’t afford it. The Dreamlands are too important.’ He points to his right. ‘Your dreamer is just over there.’
I stop walking and look at him. ‘Thank you for your help.’
He gives me a crooked smile. ‘No problem. I’m not sure what you’re planning to do now, though. I don’t think there is a way out of this maze.’
I smile back. ‘He doesn’t need a way out, he just needs to be found.’
I stride forward and turn the corner. Dante was right: bang in the centre is the MailQuick deliveryman.
‘Hello,’ I say gently.
He doesn’t respond, unless you’d call throwing back his head and howling in anguish a response. I wince and move up next to him, taking his hands in mine. I squeeze them. ‘Hello,’ I repeat.
His eyes drop and, for the first time, he sees me. ‘You’re here to help me?’ he whispers.
‘Yes. I am.’
‘Zoe,’ Dante warns from behind, ‘he’s about to wake up.’
‘That’s okay,’ I tell him.
‘Wait. Before we all get yanked out of here, I need you to know I really am sorry about–’
He’s cut off in mid-sentence. I’m back in my bed, staring up at the ceiling and feeling oddly bereft.
Chapter Sixteen
Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.
Abraham Lincoln
––––––––
I’m barely out of the shower and dressed when the doorbell rings. And rings and rings and rings. I jog down the stairs and start unbolting it. Before I’m done, I pause abruptly. ‘Look at you, Zoe,’ I whisper to myself, ‘you’re unlocking the door and not even worrying about it.’
I fling open the door, daring myself to not peek through the spyhole first. I’m not surprised to see Sergeant Rawlins standing there.