Novel Extracts | Chapter 7 - We became ghosts in the land of our ancestors

“We found solace in every little psychological victory. Each secret gathering was a way to reclaim some control over our destiny. Over time, using scattered resources—salvaged books and memory—we began drafting a rough map of our escape route. The library had been shut down since the Conglomerate’s arrival, so we had to weave together what little information we had.

“We had a crude but promising map by the sixth winter after the takeover. However, the knowledge we possessed was limited, so we started to take greater risks. We organised discreet scouting missions, sending trusted members to the border between Cotdale and Whitemoss—just before the Alqirmizi Forest. They soon had to turn back, however, for staying away too long would draw suspicion. It didn’t matter how much time passed; we knew we had only one chance to escape. The Conglomerate had to be convinced we were no threat, simply citizens going along with whatever new legislation was passed.

“Every day, I told myself the same words: ‘It’s only a matter of time, Katib. Only a matter of time.’”

“One night, I heard the by-then-now oddly comforting rustle in the bushes just outside my kitchen window. I approached . . . but Talha was not there. There was no one there. Thinking he’d hurried ahead to his cabin, I gathered my quill, ink and paper and made my way over. I knocked softly, and a bewildered Safiya opened the door. I quickly realised what had just happened. Instinct took over—I raised my voice for any hidden ears and announced that I had come to deliver the writing ink Talha had requested. Safiya caught on immediately, nodding and playing along.

“Someone was watching.

“I wished her a peaceful night and forced myself to walk calmly home, each step weighted with unseen eyes pressing against my back. Once inside, I locked my door and braced myself against it—my heart wanted to escape the confines of my chest. Steadying my nerves, I sneaked a hurried glance through the window.

“There, standing in all black and with faces covered with thick hoods, were members of the Shadow Council. They were right at Talha’s door, waiting for him to open. I collapsed to the floor, clutching my head between my knees. A crushing weight of guilt settled over me. I had brought them to Talha and Safiya—our plan was over. I sat there imagining every life that would now be lost because of my carelessness.

“Yet, a short while later, the murmurings stopped and as quickly as they had come, the shadows turned and drifted away into the night. Only then did the tightness in my chest release. The next morning, we agreed not to meet until we were certain the Shadow Council’s eyes were no longer fixed on us.

“A couple of weeks later, I was summoned to take notes at the Great Annual Meet—the one occasion when every founding member of the Conglomerate gathered at the same table. They showed up primarily for the payment promised to each attendee: 30,000 gold pieces, all collected from the taxes extorted from Mneerdah’s natives.

“This year’s gather was much like the last—a self-congratulatory spectacle, staged across three opulent lodges with tables laden with sumptuously rich feasts. For weeks leading up to the Annual meet, anyone with aspirations in the upper echelons made every effort to win favour with the Conglomerate’s inner circle, hoping to earn a seat in the main lodge. As part of a policy to pacify the general populace, they opened one of the lodges to the public this year—a move meant to distract rather than include.

“With everyone busying themselves either in the Town Hall or in the open lodge, I slipped down to the archives to file the minutes from that day’s proceedings. I shan’t bore you with the monotonous details—it’s enough I had to go through it the first time around. The usual men stationed to maintain the archives were nowhere in sight; I called out, but there was no answer. Not wanting to linger any longer than necessary, I headed toward the designated filing cabinet.

“But then, I must admit, curiosity got the better of me. Once I’d filed my notes, I began to peruse the other records. It wasn’t long before one particular file caught my attention: a cover marked only by a crude drawing of a pair of manacles. Flicking it open, my gaze soon locked onto names I recognised immediately—Anise, Noreen, Talha, Nadra. Each name was accompanied by short, ominous entries: ‘Anise seen leaving home late. Observed heading towards Didridge Range. Returned a couple of days later. Purpose unknown; further investigation recommended.’

“The Conglomerate might not have paid us another visit, but we were still under close surveillance. My hands turned cold as I realised just how deeply they had infiltrated our lives. Quickly, I returned the file and left. It became clear to us all that secrecy alone would no longer suffice. If the resistance were to survive, we’d have to go on the offensive."