After asking where he could find Town Hall, Jack ran in the direction the old man pointed his gnarled finger. He felt rather foolish when he arrived as it was only around the corner form the lodge he was staying in.
The Town Hall had a paved courtyard, with rose bushes lining the walkway. At the bottom of the stairs was a man sitting behind a desk, and in front of him was a long line of men and women.
Jack approached the end of the line, standing behind a stout, yet muscular, woman with frizzy red hair.
‘Is this the line for the guard recruitment?’ Jack asked her with a small tap on her shoulder.
The woman turned to reveal a face like a bulldog. Jack recoiled slightly at her expression.
‘Yeah,’ she said in an unusually high voice. ‘You ain’t joining, are ya?’
‘Uh.’ Jack looked around nervously. ‘Yes. Why?’
It was now he noticed that all the men and women in line looked an unpleasant lot.
‘Bit skinny, ain’t ya?’ she asked. ‘Look at them arms. I reckon you can’t lift your own body weight.’
Jack folded his arms across his chest. ‘That’s not very fair, is it? You don’t know what my Power is.’
The woman scoffed. ‘What is it then?’
Jack dropped his arms to his side. ‘Healer,’ he said lamely.
The woman turned back around to face the front of the line, laughing, and Jack felt his ears burning with embarrassment. Surely being a Healer would not hinder his chances of joining the guard?
He waited in line for a little over fifteen minutes, until it was his turn to approach the desk. The man sitting behind it was thin and middle-aged, with pasty skin and a comb-over. He did not bother to look up when Jack approached the table.
‘Name?’ he asked.
Jack wondered whether it was a wise idea to sign his real name on the register. What if he got caught as one of the dreaded ‘human empathisers’? That being said, if he was accepted onto the guard, he wanted his presence to be known to Avalon if they happened to be in the same location, however unlikely that was.
‘Sir?’ the man looked over his spectacles at Jack. ‘Your name please?’
‘Uh.’ Jack was not good at thinking on his toes. ‘It’s um-’
‘Have you forgotten your name?’
‘No,’ said Jack. ‘It’s … Greenwood.’
He jotted the name down. ‘And your first name?’
Screw it, he thought. I’ll give them my real name.
‘Jack,’ he said.
‘Okay, Jack Greenwood,’ said the man, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. ‘Date of birth?’
‘First of May,’ said Jack.
‘Age?’
‘Twenty-one.’
He jotted the details down. ‘Your height and weight, please.’
‘Six-foot-one. I think I weigh one-hundred-and-eighty pounds … last time I checked, anyway. I’m not sure anymore-’
He wrote the details down, seemingly bored. ‘And your Power, Mr. Greenwood?’
Jack looked over his shoulder. There was still a line of surly looking applicants behind him.
‘Healer,’ he replied, turning to face the table again.
The man raised his eyebrows. ‘Really?’
‘Yes,’ Jack said with a frown.
‘Well, that’s great!’ he said, genuinely shocked. ‘We have few applicants for Medics. You’ll make a real difference if you join the guard!’
‘Oh. That’s good,’ said Jack, slightly dazed.
‘Medics are a very integral part of any guard, don’t you know? You’ll be directly responsible for handling any battlefield trauma.’
‘Battlefield?’ Jack repeated.
‘Oh, yes. It’s very important. You’ll get a full run-down during your orientation.’
‘Okay,’ said Jack. ‘Sign me up.’
Chapter Fifteen
Trio of Kits
AVALON REDDING
‘Oh no, oh no, oh no,’ I said over and over again. I had no idea what I was meant to do.
Emilija was going into labor before my very eyes, and I sat there and stared as if paralyzed.
Emilija reached around and began to clean the fox kit by licking its hairless body, pulling away the afterbirth that clung to its skin. The baby squirmed and flailed blindly, its eyes still closed.
It was a strange sight, watching the kit wriggle across the windmill floor. Emilija picked the kit up in her mouth and placed it near her teats; it searched for its mother's milk, its tiny pink paws unable to hold its weight.
Then it started all over again. Emilija squirmed and convulsed before another baby was born. This one was slightly larger than the last; its skin a darker shade of grey.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing; I was the first person on earth to witness this. Martinez had gotten what he wanted; Vulmessian offspring. Too bad he wasn’t around to see it.
‘I don’t believe it,’ I said, rather dazed.
Hawthorne sat by Emilija’s side, watching her progress nervously. His ears perked up whenever one of the kits squirmed near him.
‘All this time you’ve been acting strange and distant, Hawthorne,’ I said. ‘You’ve been spending time with Emilija.’
I couldn’t help but laugh. I’d been foolish to think Hawthorne was getting sick of me. The real story was: he had a girlfriend.