Chapter 1

Lily Tremayne ran. Behind her she could hear the sound of pounding footsteps. Beside her, her brother Will struggled for breath. Tree branches slapped at her face as she ran and mud on the forest floor sucked at her sneakers. It had rained for almost a week; the first rain in France for almost six years. Everywhere the planet was dying from disease, heat and drought; and now rain had come. Lily pulled her sweater more tightly around her and tried to ignore the rain trickling down her neck and under her collar.

Twenty-four hours ago, the rain had brought hope to the village, and to the chateau where she and Will lived with their mother, Charlie, and Grandpa Michael. Now Charlie and Grandpa Michael had been arrested and she and Will were running for their lives.

Lily shivered and tried to control the tears that pricked her eyes.  She had no way of knowing what had happened to her mother and Pop. There had been no time to even say goodbye when the Enforcers came. Her mother kissed her cheek, thrust a journal and a page of instructions into her backpack and told Lily she and Will must run through the tunnel and into the forest immediately.

“But the tunnel doesn’t open,” Lily said.

“It will today, my darling.” She gently pushed Lily away from her. “Now go. You too Will. Go west and you’ll be safe.”

“But Mum –”

“You must trust me. Promise you’ll be careful.”

Lily nodded her head.

“I love you,” had been their mother’s last words. At the thought, a tear ran down Lily’s cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.

Clouds darkened overhead as she and Will burst into Monet’s garden. The tunnel ran from Will’s bedroom to the centre of the garden, although the garden was now no more than empty land covered by small huts made from wood and tin. When Lily was small, Grandpa Michael had taken her to the garden almost every week. She remembered irises, peonies, poppies, daisies, and wisteria in spring; roses, dahlias, nasturtiums and sunflowers in summer and autumn.  They dipped and danced in the breeze in a riot of colour.

Now the garden was barren.

She and Will ran to the gate and into the forest, anxious to leave the dead place behind.  Lily’s heart beat wildly. She looked over her shoulder. Will was bent double, holding his stomach. “We must hurry!” Lily said.

“I’m trying,” Will said through deep breaths. “I have stitch.”

“There’s no time for that. They’re getting closer. And I can hear a drone. It might be armed. We have to find somewhere safe.” She grabbed Will’s hand and pulled him, protesting, behind her. The branches of the beech trees surrounding them dragged at her clothes and she heard Will yelp as sharp twigs whipped his face. A rough track sloped steeply upwards towards a giant oak tree at the top of the hill. To the left the path sloped downwards.

The footsteps behind them were loud now. Their pursuers would be in sight any minute. Lily looked around in an agony of indecision.

“Left,” Will yelled over the sound of the rain that had begun to fall in torrents. Water gushed through the forest as they ran, filling their shoes and adding to Lily’s misery.

“We should have gone uphill.”

“Too exposed.” Will had regained his breath and now ran ahead of her.

“Slow down,” she yelled. She stopped and tried to hear the sound of movement. There was no sound from Will or of pursuit behind them. The only sound was the gushing of water and the steady drip of rain running off leaves onto the forest floor.

She sank to her knees in the shelter of a wide-canopied tree that gave some refuge from the rain and tried to think. Her teeth chattered with cold and fright. While she tried to decide what to do next, she felt in her pocket for something to tie back her long black hair, which was plastered to her cheeks and neck. Her pockets were empty except for an old peppermint. She licked off the fluff from her pocket, popped the peppermint into her mouth and looked around.

Will couldn’t have simply disappeared and he wouldn’t be stupid enough to play tricks when they were in danger. She studied the compass on her implant watch. The chateau was south of the forest and the compass showed she and Will had travelled north-east. Their mother’s instructions had directed them to go west but there had been no time to worry about direction in their race to get away. Now she had no choice except to keep going in the wrong direction until she found Will.

She took the letter from her mother from her small backpack and peered at it in the semi-light of the forest. Go West, it read. There are people you can trust who know you are coming. Read the journal as soon as you are somewhere safe.

Lily patted the plain black journal tucked carefully under her shirt. It felt warm to her touch. It was wrapped in a waterproof cover as if her mother knew the rain was coming. It made her feel protected even though she knew that was fanciful.

She was about to move on when something moved in the undergrowth. It sounded like it was coming from her left. Will!

“Will,” she called softly and stood up so he would see her. The rustling grew louder and she realised, too late, the sound was coming from behind.

Before she had time to react, rough hands grabbed her and someone thrust a coarse sack over her head, while a second person pushed her forward. Lily stumbled and would have fallen except for the strong hand clutching her arm. “Get moving,” a harsh male voice said, “and don’t speak.”

“But –”

The man, pushed the back of her head. “I said to be quiet,” he said. “Do as you’re told or we’re all dead.”