‘Yeah, course he does. They’re his legs.’
I could punch her right now. I clasp my hands together – a desperate prayer. ‘No. That’s the point, Alice. They’re not his legs.’ I spit out every word to try and make her understand. ‘He. Stole. Them. From. His. Brother.’
‘You’re being melodramatic.’
‘Oh really?’ I’m shrieking now, but I feel so full of rage, so incensed, I’ve lost all volume control. ‘Well maybe you shouldn’t have stopped them amputating Nate’s hands after all. You and your new mates could have had a spare parts coffee morning.’
She steps towards me, her voice calm, like I’m the unreasonable one. ‘Look, Violet. It’s not as bad as it sounds. All of the Dupes are in comas, it’s not like they’re in pain, or even aware they exist.’
‘Oh well, that’s OK then, so long as they can’t look you in the eye when you carve out their vital organs.’
She ignores me, continuing in her balanced tone. ‘And the Harpers built their Dupes a special hiding place to keep them safe.’
‘Yeah, I know. I found it. And believe me, they’re anything but safe.’
‘Calm down, Vi.’ Only Alice could look so collected, so poised, wearing a sheet from my pseudo-boyfriend’s bed, while discussing organ theft. ‘After they heard those rumours about the guards at the warehouses . . . you know . . . fiddling with the Dupes, they built them a special hiding place to keep them safe.’
‘Fiddling . . . as in . . .?’ I slip over my words.
‘God you’re naive. As in sexual stuff.’
I shove my hands over my ears, unable to process this extra information, trying to hold my brain together. ‘Holy crap, Alice. This just gets worse and worse.’ My voice sounds funny, like it’s inside my head. ‘I don’t want to hear anything else you have to say. I don’t know you any more.’ I drop my voice to a low snarl. ‘You disgust me.’ I’ve never spoken to Alice like this, not even when she stuffed my favourite T-shirt down the toilet cos Alfie Peach asked me to the Year Eight disco. Not even when she stole my algebra homework and pretended it was hers and I got detention. I expect her to crumple, to burst into tears.
But she just laughs. She actually laughs. ‘You’re just jealous.’
‘Of what exactly?’
‘Of me. Of the Gems . . . we’re perfect.’
‘Well if being perfect means losing your humanity, you can bloody well keep it.’ The silver heart rests in my fingers and I suddenly notice how sharp and cold it feels. I tighten my grip around the chain and yank it with all my might. Either the buckle warps and breaks, or the weakest link gives way, but it falls from my neck with disappointing ease. I hold it out for her to see.
Her fingers brush her naked throat. ‘Violet . . .’ Her voice tails off and we stare at each other for a moment.
‘I’m sorry,’ she finally says.
‘Don’t bother.’ I jab an angry finger towards the manor house. ‘Better take the toga party back to lover boy.’ I sound so bitter I hardly recognize myself.
She winces at my tone. ‘I’m doing this for both of us.’
‘Bullshit.’
‘I don’t want to watch you . . .’ The word sticks in her throat.
‘Say it.’ My head feels swollen and about to pop. ‘Say it.’
‘Hang,’ she shouts. ‘I don’t want to watch you hang.’
‘Bollocks! You just don’t want to go home.’
I turn and run towards the trees, the chain hanging limply from my palm, and this time, she doesn’t follow.
The dash back to the Imp-hut feels strange and unprocessed, like a piece of film that’s been stretched in places and grazed in others, dreamlike and fragmented. The wind numbs my cheeks and fills my ears, but it can’t drown out that one line: my best friend has betrayed me.
I throw open the door of the Imp-hut, my expression acting like a siren, drawing looks from every slave inside.
Saskia dashes towards me, her spiky facade momentarily dropped. ‘Violet? What is it?’
‘Alice,’ I say, almost to myself.
Matthew guides me to a chair.
‘Alice,’ I repeat, like saying it again can somehow make it hurt less.
Nate scoots across the room, pushing through the gathering crowd. ‘What about her?’ he asks, his face a mixture of concern and pain.
Saskia snarls at the bystanders. ‘The next Imp to stare at stuff that don’t concern ’em will have to deal with me. Got it?’
They go about their business, pretending we don’t exist.
‘Well?’ Nate says.
I take a great, shaky breath, for once barely noticing the stink of damp. ‘I saw them, together. Willow and Alice. In bed, they were, you know . . . or at least they had been . . .’
‘Bitch,’ Nate says.
‘Nate, mind your language,’ I mumble out of habit.
Saskia leans into the table and exhales slowly. ‘OK, OK, this isn’t so bad. Alice is on our side, right? She’s working for Thorn? I’m guessing she’s his fallback in case you fail to seduce Willow.’
‘It’s not just about seducing Willow.’ I place my hand on hers, wishing I could somehow make her understand. She snatches it away, but I carry on regardless. ‘There are more important things than getting Jeremy Harper’s secrets.’
‘Like what?’ Saskia spits.
Like completing the canon and going home. The words remain heavy on my tongue, causing my mouth to hang open.
Saskia turns so I can’t see her expression, but she holds herself stiff and balls up her fists. ‘OK, well if Alice is doing her job, we’re best off removing you from the equation. Let’s head back to headquarters and see what Thorn wants to do.’
I can’t bear the thought of letting Alice win. I can’t bear the thought of leaving Ash. And I just can’t bear the thought of never going home. I can feel the panic rising inside. ‘No. I want to stay.’ My voice sounds stronger than I feel. ‘I want to win him back and put this right.’
‘I ain’t asking you, I’m telling you.’ Saskia turns to face me, a tic developing just below her right eye. ‘You think I’m happy about this? Months in the bloody making this plan was, and all me and Matthew’s own work, and then doll-face-bloody-long-legs comes swanning in and steals the show.’ She turns and says to herself, ‘This would never have happened if Rose were here.’
If I thought I couldn’t feel any more inadequate, I was wrong. Her words wither my insides. And it just seems so unfair – I was so close. If only Alice hadn’t interfered. Nate rests his hand on my shoulder, which helps stem the tears for at least a moment.
Matthew finally speaks. ‘Come on now, Saskia. We don’t know that.’
She puts her hands on her hips and looks me up and down. This bitter laugh erupts from her mouth.