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The Forest at the Edge of the World(36)

By:Trish Mercer


“I know enough!” she shouted back. “I know the army put a fort in our village without our consent. You forced that on us! I know taxes rose last year again, but for what reason? To arm your new fort here that no one asked for? We’re just supposed to trust your decisions? The Army of Idumea’s? Even the Administrators, who we don’t know? To what end? Complete, blind obedience? Willingly accept that the sky is blue, and never question what it might portend when it’s red in the morning, or clouding in the afternoon? Should we never think for ourselves? Just become dumb cowardly animals?!”

He leaned towards her, his left hand clenched into a fist. “Your emotions are clouding your logic, and you’re imagining scenarios that may not lead to each other. You’re too closed-minded to think clearly.”

She firmed her stance. “I’m suggesting only one of many outcomes, but we never know what will happen when we blindly submit to untested leadership, Captain! When Querul the First took the throne, no one then would have suspected that generations later would have suffered from excessive control or be guided by idiots. I’m beginning to believe men simply can’t handle so much power.”

Captain Shin’s mouth dropped open at her boldness. That was twice now. “Are you insinuating that the Administrators are no more trustworthy than the kings?! I must warn you, Miss Peto, you are on very dangerous ground.”

She knew it, but she stood firm even though she teetered on the edge. “What have they done to earn my trust? Kick out King Oren? What happened to him?”

“Died of a broken heart, from finally realizing how he neglected the world!” the captain retorted.

“So we’ve been told. But I’ve always wondered, just how many soldiers did it take to break that small, stupid heart, Captain?”

The captain’s lips parted slightly, aghast at her presumption. Or maybe her insight. That was the third time.

She didn’t care, but continued boldly on. “Then the Administrators took over the city, and then the world. And what’s next? For that matter, what have you done to earn my trust? Come to Edge with your arrogance to tell us we’re closed-minded? Oh, well done!”

“Miss Peto,” he said coolly, “if the Administrators were anything like Querul the Third, you wouldn’t be allowed to say the things you’re saying tonight. You still have the freedom to express your mind, however emotional and illogical it may be, and no one is stopping you.”

“Yet,” she added coldly.

Why am I saying all of this? she wondered frantically, finally realizing just how close she was to disaster. Where is this coming from? As quickly as she could, she tried to backtrack from the crevice.

“Perhaps, Captain, we have nothing to fear from the Administrators, but I fear there may be a great deal to suspect about you.”

She immediately realized that didn’t sound like backtracking, but the words continued to pour unheeded from her mouth. “You have clearly demonstrated your arrogance and contempt for the ‘simple’ people of Edge. And you’re our defense against the Guarders? Ha! I now fear greatly for Edge.”

That’s when Rector Densal jabbed the sides of the two large men sitting next to him. They jumped up and started for the platform.

The captain’s face grew purple. “You fear for Edge—?!” he began as the men jogged the steps to the top of the platform. With big smiles, they stood between him and Mahrree.

It was like throwing water on fighting alley cats. They each stepped back but kept pacing and circling, waiting for an opening between the two large men standing there with fake grins plastered on their faces. The platform suddenly felt very crowded.

Mr. Metz, the personal assistant to Rector Densal and a large fellow, held up his hands and said in an excessively cheerful voice, “What wonderful words for us to consider! We thank Miss Peto and Captain Shin and invite everyone to stretch a moment before the musicians take to the stage.”

Captain Shin was obviously not finished with her, but Mahrree wanted nothing more to do with him. To so easily dismiss The Writings showed his true nature, and it was ugly.

That had done it for her.

She didn’t care about his accusing her of being a know-it-all—she’d heard that a dozen times before. But The Writings? Maybe he’d read them once or twice, as he claimed at the first debate, but he obviously cared nothing for the words of the Creator or the guides, which explained his ready devotion to the Administrators.

No matter how pleasant he appeared, his soul was grossly disfigured.

She stormed down the back stairs to her favorite tree, gave it a swift kick that she immediately regretted, and marched, or rather limped, back and forth trying to regain her composure. She considered soaking her throbbing foot it the warm spring, but couldn’t imagine sitting long enough to do so.