Elevation 1: The Thousand Steps. Helen Brain

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 pigeon to tell her to come home at once.”

      “Yes, sir,” Leonid growls. He’s stopped staring at the ground. He’s looking me up and down like I smell disgusting.

      Mr Frye pats my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, my dear, but I have to run.” He makes a mock pout. “You don’t mind, do you? The High Priest is expecting me back for a council meeting. So much paperwork to sort out. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I’m thrilled to meet you. Thrilled. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow, and I’ll bring my godson, Haldus Poladion. You’ll like him, I know you will. He’s the High Priest’s son. And he’s very handsome!” He winks, climbs into the buggy, knocks on the side, and the horses clip-clop off down the driveway. The barking dog runs after them.

      “Get back here, Isi!” Leonid shouts. “Heel.” The dog keeps on chasing the buggy until it’s halfway down the drive, while Leonid keeps shouting at her. Great, so she’s huge, wild and unmanageable. At last she turns and runs back to him, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, grinning.

      “You’re a bad dog,” Leonid says, fondling her ears. “Chasing Mr Frye.” She wags her tail. “Where’s your luggage?” Leonid says abruptly.

      “I … I don’t have any,” I say, trying not to move in case the dog goes for me. “I came from the colony.”

      “Colony, miss?”

      “Yes, the colony. I’ve been elevated.”

      “Congratulations,” he sneers. “Anyway, your face is bright red. Better come inside.”

      I know I’m flushed from the heat, but I wish he hadn’t pointed it out. And I can’t follow him up the steps because Isi is blocking my way and I’m too scared to move.

      “She won’t hurt you.”

      I don’t want him to think I’m pathetic, so I take a breath and sidle past the dog and follow him up the stairs. He’d be scared of dogs too if he’d never seen one before.

      The front door opens onto a huge room that runs down the centre of the house. It’s darker and cool inside, and there’s a sweet, earthy smell.

      He gestures towards the first doorway on the left. “Your room. En suite.”

      “Thanks.” I don’t know what en suite is, but I don’t want to ask. He already thinks I’m an idiot. I peer through the door. This is my bedroom? It’s huge. There’s room for at least twenty people. There’s a huge bed with four curly poles holding up a roof and curtains around it. Two massive wooden lockers stand on either side of it.

      “Do you also sleep in here?” I ask.

      His face darkens. “Not part of my job.” He spits out the words.

      I’m confused, then when I realise what he’s thinking, I go even redder.

      “I didn’t mean that,” I say. What must he think of me? “It’s just that …” Forget it, I think. He’s already turned away. He doesn’t want to hear that in my world we’re never, ever alone, and it’s normal to share one sleeping cell with two hundred people.

      “I’m going now,” he says. “What you want for supper?”

      He’s got me on the back foot again. We eat what we’re given in the colony. Unless it’s a special occasion like a birthday, it’s the same thing every meal – a vegetable stew with protein pellets.

      “Um …”

      He’s waiting, with one eyebrow raised. I feel about half a metre tall.

      Whatever I say, it will be wrong. He thinks I’m some kind of sex-crazed lowlife. I’m not going to give him anything more to criticise. “I’ll eat anything,” I say gruffly. “Whatever’s easiest.”

      He gives a curt nod and goes off. The dog has followed him, thank goodness.