“Niva! But what… how did you… who…what happened to you?” I spouted, reaching a hand to wake up Elian, but she grabbed it to stop me.

  “No. If he knows I’m here it could ruin everything,” she warned, sitting down the other side of me and rubbing her temples, “Urgh, I have the beginning of forty-seven different thoughts and I can’t focus on a single one until I’ve had something to eat.”

  She snatched her bag nestled by my feet, and rummaged through until she found a packet of Chew-Chew Trains and shoved a handful of the red, gummy sweets into her mouth while I got over my surprise.

  “Your bag came in useful –”

  She held up a finger.

  “Right. You’re eating.”

  I shut my mouth and waited for her to finish.

  “Continue,” she said after a heavy swallow.

  “How did you escape?” I shook my head in disbelief.

  “Experience. This isn’t exactly the first time I’ve had to escape a prison cell from the past.”

  “Weren’t you like eight last time you time-travelled?”

  “Yes, what’s your point?” she asked, “I only came here to make sure you both made it to safety. I’m gonna go back to our time soon, but you won’t see me for a while. There’s big plans at stake here, and having the Chancellor’s son know about them is too risky. It’s important he doesn’t know I’m alive, it’s the only way to protect him.”

  “Surely him knowing you’re alive won’t impact anything that much?”

  “He knows me too well, he’ll figure everything out.”

  “You’ll break his heart.”

  “I believe his heart is reserved for someone else.”

  I looked up to her, intending to ask exactly what she meant by that but I couldn’t bring myself to think about the possibility of Elian caring for me, especially when I didn’t even care for myself.

  “Are you going to free your mother?” I asked instead. If the plans were indeed big, Niva was going to need help.

  She blinked once in surprise at the sudden change in subject and a chill swept through the air.

  “Yes, not that she deserves it. Lucky for her, Elian’s persuasive.”

  I tilted my head further up.

  “I’m sure she had her reasons for not mentioning you.”

  “Yeah, well, they’d better be good. There’s a jacket in my bag, by the way. I suggest keeping it in case you need to disguise yourself back home. Or you know, if you ever wanted to take a stroll into town. The market’s nice this time of year.”

  “Thanks.” I offered a smile. “Good luck.”

  She checked her tool belt for all her weapons and left with a nod, about as heartfelt goodbye as she could give. I tended the fire for a while before taking my place next to Elian beneath the blanket, falling into troubled sleep not long after.

  My nightmares were loud, with Galton laughing as my friends were turned into robots, every inch of free will taken away until they were lifeless husks with dull eyes, obeying every order blindly while I was tied to the hands of a giant clock, tubes connecting me to vials of blood and machines meant to measure every bodily function, every chemical level in my body, powerless as I became one of them. The clock chimed midnight and I screamed with the final stroke, jolting awake.

  “It’s ok, you’re here, you’re ok. Look at me, you’re safe.” Elian’s soothing voice shallowed my heavy breaths while the care in his eyes stilled my beating heart.

  “Yeah,” I panted, “Just a bad dream.”

  “I get them too. What was yours about?”

  “It was awful. Everyone was a robot, you- you were one too and there was nothing I could do.”

  I shook my head to get the image out of my mind.

  “Here.” He slowly took my cold hand in his and pressed it to his chest. My cheeks warmed ever so slightly. “Feel my heartbeat? I’m definitely not a robot.”

  I pressed a little harder and sure enough felt the faint lub-dub of a healthy heart. How many genetic modifications had he undergone to get it that perfect, I wondered. He insisted he was human, but could any Custom really call themselves that? Their bodies had been changed before they were even born. What kind of effect did that have on a person? What about the person they would’ve been without the modifications, was that person still in there somewhere? Somewhere beyond the genetic code? But then what about the person I would’ve been without my genetic abnormalities?

  I looked at the man holding my hand to his chest and decided there and then that it didn’t matter. This was the only version of ourselves that existed, that would ever exist. It didn’t matter what anyone had changed in Elian’s genetics, he was still a smart, kind and brilliant human being, and much more than I deserved. And I was… whoever I was, and nothing would ever change that.

  He wrapped his arms around me and brought the blanket in to cover both of us, falling asleep in minutes.

  The peace of sleep suited him, smoothing the hard lines of his face. I wish I could say the same but I barely managed to fall asleep that night.

  The sun rose and another day dawned. The grass was damp with dew. The air was crisp and fresh. It had all the tidings of a good day.

  Elian woke up with a jump as he saw me, then remembered where he was.

  Finally. Drawing figures in the ash was starting to get boring.

  “Good morning sleeping beauty,” I taunted as he yawned and rubbed his eyes awake.

  “Morning. Did you sleep alright?”

  If he remembered comforting me last night, he didn’t acknowledge it.

  “Not at all. Surprised you did though, I was sure the leap from king-size bed to thin blanket on dirt was going to be a challenge.”

  He narrowed his eyes.

  “I have camped before.”

  “I’m teasing.”

  Elian leapt to his feet, ready to start the day in just a few short seconds.

  “First thing on the agenda, we need to get proper clothes if we’re going to blend in. And breakfast. Some smoked salmon and avocado toast would taste amazing right now.”

  “Glad to see the army didn’t stamp out your taste for the finer things in life. Where are we going to find clothes?” I asked.

  “We’ll make our way to the outskirts of town, then we’ll… borrow some.”

  I put a hand to my chest in mock horror.

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  “Surely the Chancellor’s heir isn’t talking about stealing?”

  “How else will we get Niva back?” He shrugged and started rolling up the blanket to put in his bag.

  Sweat started forming on my brow as I remembered our visitor last night.

  “Well, you said she made her choice, right? It doesn’t have to be up to us to save her.”

  “How can you say that? She risked her life for us, the least we can do is the same.”

  I didn’t say anything but packed away the little possessions we had, destroyed any trace of our fire, and looked for a way out of the woods.

  The sun hadn’t reached the forest floor so we flitted in and out of shadows like thieves until the trees thinned out again, and we became exposed to the outskirts of the town.

  We spied on people going in and out of the town gates from the safety of a boulder.

  “What about them?” I asked, pointing to a man and a woman in silk stockings.

  “They’re people of high status, they’ll be missed.”

  “Then what about them?” I asked, pointing to a different couple coming out of the town along the dirt path with a wagon. Their clothes were a bit grubby but appeared to be of good enough quality, and I reckoned Elian could rock the feathered hat.

  “I’d say we found our target,” he agreed.

  A short while later, we ambled into the town, while a couple would be waking up not far off, tied up with a bit of rope to a tree.

  Waste and sewage slopped into the street, thrown out from high windows while carriage wheels rolled in it, pulled by groomed horses. The stench of animal and human waste bolted rather than wafted through the air to plague the nose of unsuspecting victims, and plague seemed to be the right word for it as the sick sat by the wayside, coughing onto each other while they huddled for warmth, dirt covering their coats and their hands outstretched for spare change. Old men stumbled out of taverns, singing at the top of their lungs while hanging on each other for support, drunk already despite the dawn.

  But it was a small group of people chanting through the streets that caught my attention since I recognised the leader as the man that almost strung up the two women yesterday. He had beady eyes, chin-length brown hair and a buckle on his hat.

  “Elian…” I started, hoping he’d see the same.

  The witch-hunter caught my eyes then. I tried to duck my head to avoid his gaze but it was too late.

  He came strolling towards us.

  “Quick, how’s your acting?” Elian murmured.

  I thought back to my attempts at lying to get out of trouble.

  “Not great,” I replied. But then judging by his improvisational skills back in Vocafeum neither was his. Still, he seemed determined to do a good job now.

  “Alright, second question.” We turned to face each other. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  We both stood there for a second, both surprised at how quickly I answered this time.

  “Don’t speak unless spoken to. They might not recognise us if you follow my lead.”

  He pulled his hat a bit lower on his face and I prayed the bonnet covering my face and hair would be enough.

  The witch-hunter reached us, and we smiled at him.

  He was a dough-faced man with bags under his eyes, followed by some more people who looked dressed for a hunt. It wasn’t even their clothes or any particular thing that gave the impression of a threat, it was their facial expressions, scowls of blind hatred, ready to kill anything on command.

  The leader appeared cheery enough, but his eyes gave away his evil intentions.

  “Good day to you, sir,” he spoke directly to Elian, “The name’s Mathew Hopkins, Witch-Finder General of this town. We happen to be looking for a woman called Susannah Reede, who we’ve been told might be coming this way. I dread to say it, but she’s a witch.”

  “A witch?” Elian pretended to be shocked.

  The leader of the mob nodded gravely. “Yes. It’s been a tough few years. Every time I think I’ve stamped out the last one, another poor sinner falls prey to Satan’s whims.”

  “This is dreadful news indeed. I’m afraid I don’t have much information, but if I do find a Susannah Reede, or any trace of a witch for that matter, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “That’s good news, man.”

  He looked at me as if he’d seen me for the first time.

  “Is this your wife sir?”

  “Yes, isn’t she lovely? We’re newlyweds,” he said with a mischievous grin, putting an arm around me.

  “Do you serve him well, girl?”

  “You’ve got to be joking,” I whispered to Elian.

  “Ayla, darling, don’t be modest. Tell the witch-finder how good of a wife you are. Especially since he’s busy tracking witches, and we wouldn’t want him to think we were such things.”

  I turned to the witch-finder.

  “Oh yes, absolutely. I do everything for him. Serve him well. Cook. Clean. All of those wifey things.”

  The witch-finder general looked satisfied, but a plain yet spiteful-looking woman came forward.

  “You two look familiar, have we seen you at Church?”

  The woman, Isabella, gave a venomous smile.

  Luckily Elian was quick on his feet.

  “That’s highly unlikely, we’re visiting you see. On our way south to meet this one’s mother.” He gestured to me. “She’s very sick. You know how witches are with their curses.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. But still.” She raised her eyebrows expectantly. “Are you sure we haven’t met?”

  “Never mind that,” the witch-finder interrupted, “Where’s their wedding rings?”

  “Couldn’t afford them. Times being what they are and all. Probably that Susannah’s fault,” Elian answered naturally.

  “This is why we must find her. It’s a terrible thing that you haven’t been able to properly celebrate your love for everyone to see. Wedding rings are a beautiful symbol of eternal commitment, for a married couple to be without them is a tragedy.” The witch-finder general gestured for the mob to follow him. “Come fellow brethren. We must kill Susannah Reede and send her to the fiery pits of Hell!” The mob started moving onwards while the leader turned to us. “It was lovely to meet you two. If you ever want to visit our Church, we’d be delighted to have you.”

  “That’s very kind. Thank you.” Elian shook his hand.

  “Right. Best be on our way. I shall see you both Sunday, I assume.”

  “Absolutely. No one loves the Church more than us!”

  We waved them off down the road, both of us heaving sighs of relief.

  “I didn’t know you had that in you,” I said.

  He shuddered.

  “Neither did I.”

  “Well, they absolutely believed it so we won’t be seeing them again.”

  A crash, and some guards came running towards us.

  “I stand corrected.”

  More people with pitchforks and torches came running down the street, the crowd growing as citizens joined the hunt, not wanting to be accused of helping us.

  Elian grabbed my hand and we ran, but more people came from around the corner, blocking both ends of the street. I looked up and down, spotting a low window in one of the houses. Tiled roofs joined together to create a long chain of houses with beams on the outside. From the window ledge we might be able to climb up to the top of them and escape.

  “Hoist me up,” I suggested.

  He followed my line of sight and nodded, lifting me up so I could reach the windowsill and then followed, running up the wall and grabbing my outstretched hand to help him up. We immediately started scaling the house and reached the roof.

  “Get up there, men!” demanded the witch-hunter, and some of the townspeople started climbing too.

  We pounded the tiles, running and jumping through the line of houses that stretched ahead of us until we came to a dead end where the street intersected the space between this roof and the next.

  Our chasers were getting closer.

  “Ready to take a leap of faith?” I asked.

  “Your whole existence is a leap of faith!” he cried.

  We walked backwards for a good run-up but didn’t wait around too long as the townsfolk gained on us.

  I grabbed his hand and we ran together, leaping off the ledge. There was a second where I thought we might miss it, but our bodies collided with the slanted tiles, and we watched the others hesitate before trying to jump off themselves. One person missed completely and fell to the ground.

  “Oh no, is he dead?” I asked.

  “Do you really want to wait to find out?”

  “Not particularly.”

  We continued running, until Elian slowed down and asked, “Where do you think the prisons are?”

  “Are we freeing Niva now? Is this really the best time?”

  “The timing’s not going to get better.”

  “We can’t bring this to her. She’ll be fine for a bit longer.”

  “Why have we both gone to opposite sides? I thought you were the one yelling at me yesterday for not going after her, and now I am, I thought you’d be happy.”

  “Yes, but don’t you think we should get rid of the people following us first?”

  He looked behind us, where some of the townspeople had jumped over and were coming after us.

  “Good point.”

  We leapt to another line of houses, kicking the hay of thatched roof after thatched roof in our bid to escape. The end of the line came suddenly, and Elian struggled to stop in time as he slipped towards the edge. He started leaning over as he lost his footing but I pulled him back with a jerk.

  He nodded his thanks as we searched for somewhere to clamber down.

  We chose to drop from the highest window sill to the next, helping each other descend. As soon as we touched the ground we were off again, this time choosing the labyrinthine alleyways of the town.

  It seemed we were going round in circles until eventually there was a break for a clearing.

  “Elian look, I think we made it!”

  A guard with a sword came around the corner, and townspeople came from the other end, trapping us with no way out. Not up, down, or sideways.

  “Please stop jinxing things,” he moaned.

  “Can you fight them?” I asked.

  “The walls are too close, there’s not enough space.”

  “Then it looks like we’re going to the prisons after all.”

  They approached with their weapons, circling us, except this time there was no possibility of escape.

  “Hello everyone,” I said as they closed in, “I just want to say this is a really, really big misunderstanding. We’re not witches!”

  “Prove it,” demanded one of the townsfolk.

  I gestured to both of us helplessly.

  “How?”

  “Unclothe and show us you have no witch marks,” suggested one of the mob.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” protested Elian.

  “Then you will be arrested and tried under our laws.”

  They closed in further, but I wasn’t going down without breaking somebody’s nose. I threw my fist into a nearby man’s face so hard even Elian paused in shock before getting a few more people on the ground, but our little outburst was quashed quickly as the sheer number of people overpowered us. Our legs and arms flailed about, hoping to secure another target before they held us down, tied our hands behind our backs and took us away.