Were the gatekeeper stories true? And if they were, Silyen Jardine – just seventeen years old – was surely an odd choice for such a responsibility. A bit like entrusting Luke with the sole key to the house, Abi thought, only to feel the sharp stab of her brother’s absence once more.
Meanwhile the LAB woman, mortifyingly, had misinterpreted Abi’s curiosity.
‘Don’t you be getting interested in the Young Master, my girl. From what I hear the boy’s a strange one, even among them lot. Never seen in a car; goes everywhere on horseback.’
Abi flushed. She caught the woman’s eye in the rearview mirror and saw something unexpected there: concern.
‘No, don’t you get interested in any of them. That’s the only safe way for folks like us. You see nothing, you hear nothing, and you do your job. People see these estates as a soft option, but I’ve heard stories that’d freeze your blood. When my time comes, Millmoor will be good enough for me, among my own kind.’
Abi sat back in her seat, cross and embarrassed. Who in their right mind would prefer a slavetown to this lush, open countryside? The air on her face through the open car window was fresh and sweet. No, she’d made the right choice in getting her family to Kyneston, she was sure of it. And she’d ensure Luke made it here, too.
The car’s wheels crunched over stones as it pulled onto the side of the road. There was nothing special about the spot, just more road and wall, same as there had been for the past ten minutes. Kyneston Estate must be huge.
‘Here we are,’ the LAB woman said. ‘Out you hop, and good luck. We’re half an hour early, but I could use the head start to get back up north. I’m sure that after all the effort you made to get here, you wouldn’t be thinking of disappearing.’
‘But there’s nothing here,’ said Abi. ‘What are we supposed to do, just wait? Will someone come and get us?’
‘I don’t know any more than you do, love. My instructions were to get the four of you here for 4 p.m. This is the spot. The GPS says so.’
‘Well, the GPS must be wrong.’
But the woman was having none of it. She was back to being a functionary, just following orders. There was no point arguing, so Abi opened her door, helped Daisy out, then went to the car boot and started hauling out their bags.
‘Have a quick ten years,’ the driver said.
Then she closed the vehicle windows so quickly you’d think the air was poisoned. Gravel flew from beneath the tyres as the car turned and sped off.
Mum slumped down on the small heap of their possessions, the fight temporarily gone out of her. Dad stood beside her, staring into the distance, still smarting with humiliation and impotence at his failure to rescue his son. At least Abi hoped that was it, rather than delayed concussion. Either way, they had both better snap out of it soon, or the Jardines would take one look and send the lot of them to Millmoor to join Luke.
Daisy settled into the clipped grass verge, making a chain of her namesake flower. Abi told her not to wander into the road, and got a do-you-think-I’m-stupid look for her pains. Checking her watch, she decided there’d be time for a brief exploration. Ten minutes to jog in the direction they’d been travelling, with the same time to get back, still gave her ten minutes’ grace before 4 p.m.
It proved an unrewarding exercise. The wall continued, low and featureless, exactly like the section they’d driven along. When it was time to turn, she paused to inspect the brickwork and was startled to discover that it gave off a faint radiance. It was barely perceptible in sunlight, but at night the wall would glow.
Abi worked up the courage to touch it. Her hand recoiled of its own accord – she’d been expecting something like an electric shock, she realized, but nothing had happened. Bolder, she brushed her fingers against the old mottled brickwork. But the wall appeared to be perfectly normal, apart from the dim luminescence. Was that Skill? Abi wondered if she could climb over, but this probably wasn’t the best moment to attempt it.
She made it back to her family with time to spare, relieved to see that her parents were finally making some kind of small talk. The remaining minutes were spent helping Daisy with her flower chain. Abi looped it round her sister’s neck. Let their new masters see she was only a little kid and should be treated as such.
‘Horses!’ said Daisy, hearing the muffled clop of shod hooves and eagerly looking up and down the road.
‘Not here,’ said Abi. ‘They’re on grass, on the other side of the wall. It must be someone coming.’
Was it the Young Master, who went everywhere on horseback?
She climbed to her feet and the four of them stood together, facing the wall.
Which is stupid, thought Abi, because there’s nothing there apart from solid bricks. Unless they’re going to blast a hole in it – or fly over.
But she couldn’t make herself smile at the ludicrous image because the truth was she had no idea what the Equals could do. Nobody did. You just saw them on the TV or the internet, or in celebrity magazines. They looked like everyone else, to be honest. Groomed and gorgeous, of course, but all that took was money, not Skill.
Information on the Equals’ true abilities just didn’t exist. Apart from the famous stories of the Equal Revolution – Lycus the Regicide’s unnatural killing of King Charles, and Cadmus Parva-Jardine’s Great Demonstration when he built the House of Light – History textbooks banged on about affairs of state, not Skill. In her favourite novels, hot male Equals blew up Ferraris and mind-controlled bad guys, but Abi was hardly going to put much store by their accuracy.