to the servants, dear,” he chuckles. “Don’t worry, you’ll learn our ways soon enough. I’m so glad we’ve got you out of the colony, back in your rightful place as a citizen. After you,” he says, gesturing to the open door.
Where are they taking me? I pull back, look up at the mountain. I’ve spent my life inside it, locked in the grey stone tunnels and galleries, scuttling around in the semi-dark with the other two thousand. Jasmine, Fez and Letti are still in there, probably crying their eyes out, thinking I’m dead. If only I could send them a message to tell them I’m okay.
But Mr Frye is in a hurry. He’s still chuckling over my bowing, and I go red. “Come now,” he says, holding out his hand. I don’t exactly have a choice. I climb inside and sit down opposite him, and the driver closes the door. The horses whinny and snort, and off we go, jolting down a steep road that winds down the mountainside.
“I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone,” Mr Frye says, still beaming. As we drive away I can finally tear my eyes away from the strange new world around me and look at him properly. He’s wearing a blue robe and pants with embroidery around the neck and hems. His grey hair is pulled up into a knot on the top of his head. I’ve never seen anyone like him. He’s so plump and polished.
“They’re going to be so excited when they know you’ve been found,” he says. “I couldn’t believe it when the High Priest sent a message to say I had to come quickly. It’s only been a few months since your great-aunt died, and we didn’t know what to do. We’d sent all the staff away, except for the garden boy and the woman who cleans the house. And then you turn up, in the colony. You can’t imagine how thrilled the High Priest is. We all are. It’s so exciting.”
“Is my family alive?” I ask. “My mother?”
He leans over and takes my hand. “I’m sorry. You’re the very last Den Eeden. Your mother, Ali, died many years ago when you were a newborn baby.”
“And my father?”
“Ahem.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m afraid we never knew who your father was.”
“So I’m alone?” I’m alone without any family, without my sabenzis? My heart sinks. I’ll never know who I am now.
He squeezes my hand. “You’re not alone, Ebba. You’re a citizen now. You’re one of us.”
“A citizen?”
“The people who live on Table Island. It’s where you belong.”
I don’t want to be with people I don’t know. I want to be with the people I love, and if my family are all dead, then I want to live there with Jasmine and the twins. But they’re inside the colony, still believing that the world above ground is so damaged, it’s not safe for humans.
I grip the seat and peer out over the side of the cliff. The land is dry, the plants struggling, and there are ruins of buildings and rusted old cars abandoned on fragmenting roads. But there are people walking freely, and children playing outside a cluster of pointed stone buildings built in the shadow of a huge grey wall. They look sleek and happy, just as Mr Frye does. Why did they lie to us?
Behind the wall is the ocean. It’s more beautiful than I ever imagined. The wind is rippling the surface, and near the shore, breaking through the waves, are the ruins of the city that was flooded in the Purification. The city where my family once lived.
IT’S MID-AFTERNOON and I’m starving by the time the buggy slows and then turns down between a pair of high white gateposts.
“Welcome! Welcome to Greenhaven.” Mr Frye beams. “This marvellous old farm has been the home of the Den Eeden family since 1697, and it all belongs to you! You lucky, lucky girl.” And he pats my knee, delighted with himself.
I gasp. I was expecting a modest house with a patch of garden. But this is a whole farm with fields stretching out on either side as far as I can see. We drive for ages along a dirt road, the buggy jolting in the potholes, and I try to take it all in. We pass a row of white cottages. “The old slave lodge,” Mr Frye says. “The staff live there. That’s the orchard,” he gestures with a manicured hand to the rows of trees on the right. “And on this side are the grapevines. They’re looking a bit neglected. With your great-aunt so ill we went down to the bare minimum of staff … But back in the day Greenhaven was famous for its wines.”
At last we turn a corner, and there is a white house with a thatched roof, a curly-topped wall at the front and green shutters. There’s a long building on the right, also thatched.
“That’s your house, and this here is the jonkershuis,” Mr Frye says. “It houses the farm offices.”
A big dog comes running out of the house, barking. I flinch. I’ve seen how vicious dogs can be in kinetikas. It had better not come near me.
“Here we are,” says Mr Frye brightly. “I bet you can’t wait to see inside. You’re going to be so thrilled. I know I would be if this was all mine.”
If I survive that long. There’s a wild animal waiting to attack me.
“Just be quiet, Isi,” he orders the dog. “This is your new mistress.”
The dog belongs to me? I don’t want it. Its teeth are huge.
“Come on, Ebba,” Mr Frye says brightly. “Isi won’t hurt you.”
I climb down from the buggy and freeze as the dog comes over and sniffs me.
“See? She’s as gentle as the proverbial lamb. Now, where’s Leonid? He will show you where everything is. I’ll be back tomorrow and we can chat then. I’ll have some paperwork for you to fill in.”
He’s going? Just like that? Dumping me here and driving off? And who’s Leonid?
A guy of about nineteen or twenty saunters down the steps. He has heavy eyebrows and a fierce stare. “Morning, Mr Frye,” he says in a rough voice. “Got the message. Prepared the front bedroom.” He turns to me with a smile. “Morning, miss.”
“Leonid,” Mr Frye says, gesturing dramatically towards me. “We’ve found Ebba den Eeden!”
Leonid’s smile shrinks.
“How extraordinary is that?” Mr Frye continues. “It’s a miracle. Praise be to Prospiroh!” And he grins like I’m a magic trick that he’s performed, and he wants Leonid to clap. But Leonid is glaring at me from under his black eyebrows. I take a step back. What have I done? You’d swear I was his worst enemy.
“Ebba, this is Leonid Markgraaf,” Mr Frye continues. “He and Aunty Figgy work for you. Leonid is in charge of the gardens and the horses. Aren’t you, Leonid?”
Leonid scowls at the ground. He won’t make eye contact with me.
“People work for me?” I stutter, wondering why this guy was perfectly friendly until he heard my name. “I thought we all worked together, for the common good. For Prospiroh.”
“Oh yes, we do,” Mr Frye says cheerfully. “You’re right, you’re right. Aunty Figgy is away at the moment?” he says, turning to Leonid. “She’s in Boat Bay with your people? Send a messenger
