Sometimes Aaron took a turn at the crank when he was feeling angsty, just to remind the workers that he was the best at it. And sometimes he’d kick them out completely and take an entire shift, which is exactly what happened each time the oil neared the fill line inside a barrel. There was something so rewarding about pressing the last possible drop of oil into a barrel and sealing the top.
One barrel of oil probably would be enough to impress General Blair, Aaron knew. But two—two would blow him away. Unlike the watered-down chicken fat that the Quillitary had been using for years, this viscous oil would last a very long time. The desert heat wouldn’t make it evaporate, and the vehicles wouldn’t need much of it at all to get their engines working smoothly. Still, Aaron wanted to impress the general so much that he’d have no hesitation in giving Aaron a key role in their plan of attack on Artimé.
Finally the moment came when the second barrel could hold not one more drop. Aaron carefully placed the lid on top and sealed it. He commanded his guards to load the barrels of oil into the back of a Quillitary vehicle.
As they did so, Aaron watched like a hawk over their every move out the door and to the vehicle. Just as they were finished, Liam strode up the driveway from Quill and joined the high priest.
The governor looked at Aaron. “All finished with the oil, then?”
“For now, at least,” Aaron said. He squinted in the sunlight, which seemed all the brighter without Quill’s wall, and looked around. It had been weeks since he’d gone outside. The enormous wall was completely toppled as far as he could see in both directions, and the rubble had been pushed down the hill and smoothed out all the way to the edge of the sea. It looked rugged, and actually rather nice. And while Aaron had hardly noticed the outside work because of his other preoccupation, he now felt terribly exposed.
“The breeze is pleasant,” Liam said. “It’s much cooler now, don’t you think?”
Aaron’s heart palpitated. “I suppose,” he said.
“Have you been down by the water yet?”
“No.”
Liam glanced nervously at Aaron. “It’s nice. The water is warm. It’s all right for bathing, but it tastes terrible. Word is that you can actually eat the, ah, the animals that live in the sea—do you know anything about that? Gondoleery was telling people about the sea animals when she was hanging around by the amphitheater the other day. She and Governor Strang took groups to the water to show them how to catch the, ah, the food.”
“Fish,” Aaron muttered. “They’re called fish.”
“Ah, yes, right—fish. I wasn’t familiar. With the name for them, I mean.” Liam clasped his hands in front of him. “So anyway, people seem to like the water once they get over the fright of seeing it everywhere.”
“Hmm,” Aaron said. He wondered if he’d ever get over the fright of it.
“It’s making you look good.”
“The fish?”
“No, the wall coming down.”
“Is it?” Aaron looked at Liam.
“Yes, indeed,” Liam said. “Quite good.”
“And are Gondoleery and Strang also doing what they’re supposed to be doing, helping the Wanteds get angry about Artimé’s attack on Secretary?”
Liam opened his mouth, and then closed it. “That . . . ? I don’t know. I hadn’t seen Gondoleery for weeks as I mentioned to you some time ago, and then out of nowhere she appeared in the commons, looking quite, ah, quite normal for once, actually.”
Aaron didn’t much care to discuss Gondoleery’s appearance. She was disturbing from the inside, and that was all that mattered. It was less stressful not to think about her at all. He stared at the sparkling sea and sucked in a breath, then blew it out slowly and glanced at the jalopy, loaded with the oil barrels, the driver waiting patiently in the front seat. “I suppose I should go down to the water at least once,” he said.
“If I may be so bold, I’d say I advise it, based on the positive reaction Gondoleery is getting from the Wanteds. They seem quite supportive of her and her recent interactions with the people. If you understand my meaning.” Liam had tried several times to make Aaron aware of Gondoleery’s sneaky ways, but he couldn’t force the high priest to listen, and he didn’t have any real proof that Gondoleery was a threat—only what Eva had suggested and what little bit Liam had seen of her strange practices.
But Aaron seemed eternally thick-headed when it came to Gondoleery. And if it became clear that Liam was mistaken about her, Aaron might turn against him. He had to be very careful about what he said.
“Come along, then,” Aaron said. He glanced this way and that to make sure there weren’t throngs of Quillens about, watching him, and then he strode across the driveway to the rocks and rubble. He walked carefully from piece to piece, all the way down to where the sea lapped at them. Liam followed close behind.
“It has a different sound to it,” Aaron said after a while. “Doesn’t it?”
“Oh, yes,” Liam said, though he didn’t have a clue what Aaron meant.
“Not disturbing,” Aaron said.
“No, not at all. Peaceful, even.”
Aaron liked that. “Peaceful.” He strained his eyes westward, looking at the vastness of it all—the sea, the sky. He’d seen it before, of course, but never at a time when he wasn’t filled with panic, so it looked somehow less frightening now. “Not much out there.” He dipped his hand into the water and let the liquid drip out between his fingers.