The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf (The Tribe) by Ambelin Kwaymullina Page B

important it was to understand your own story. I hadn’t, either, until Ember told me.
    “Ember says everyone has a tale they tell themselves about who they are. And if your tale is true, then you see yourself clearly, like looking into still water. But if it’s not, then it’s more like the water’s all rippled, so you can’t see yourself at all.”
    “Ember’s one of your Tribe, isn’t she? Does she know the Serpent?”
    “Ember knows
stories
. You see, I think your story is the Balance. You tell yourself that everything you do to Illegals is okay because it’s all for the sake of the Balance.”
    But those words tasted bad in my mouth, all bendy and askew, and I knew I’d somehow messed up the story. Neville was speaking again, asking about Cambergull this time, but I wasn’t listening. Instead, I tried to work out where I’d gone wrong. Neville had started to blur around the edges, too, and I felt like I actually saw him better this way. Colors seemed to move through his body, showing me the patterns of thought and feeling that lived beneath his skin until, finally, I understood.
    I felt cold, the fog lifting from my mind as Neville came back into focus. He looked expectant, but he wasn’t getting any more answers from me. I knew his tale now, and it was a terrible one. The reason Chief Administrator Neville Rose imprisoned and tortured Illegals was simply because he
liked
doing it, and he’d never thought his actions were for the good of the Balance. That was just something he said to other people, part of an elaborate trick he played on the world. He enjoyed causing pain as much as Grey, but he was much worse than her. She was simply mad, a dog gone rabid. Neville held both her leash and his own, and when he let go of the restraint, it was because he’d made a deliberate choice to do so.
    Licking dry lips, I whispered, “You’re a very bad man, Neville Rose.”
    He scanned my face. Then he smiled. It wasn’t his grandfatherly smile. It was the knowing smirk of a monster who understood exactly how monstrous he was and simply didn’t care. “I don’t think you’re going to help me, Ashala. What a shame.”
    He nodded to Grey, who began pressing buttons on the black box. Unable to stand staring at him for a second longer, I let my eyes roam around and fixed on Connor. He was so still and expressionless, he truly could have been a statue, and yet the sight of him was instantly reassuring. I wished I could tell myself that my reaction to him was another strange effect of Grey’s drug, but I knew it wasn’t. For days now, I’d been avoiding a part of my own story, trying to hide from feelings I didn’t want to have. Only here, in this room that I wasn’t very likely to leave alive, it seemed pointless not to acknowledge the truth.
I love Justin Connor
. He didn’t deserve it, but somehow that didn’t change how I felt.
    Grey stopped pushing buttons, and Connor’s gaze locked with mine as I tensed myself for what was to come. The very last thing I was aware of before the blinding flash was his flawless features, crumbling into an expression of utter desolation, and I thought,
This is how the angels looked when they watched the world end.
    The white light faded, leaving me standing once again on the grasslands, disoriented and alone. Everything seemed the same as before — yellowy grasses, rocky hills, distant tuarts. And the far-off thumping that heralded the approach of the dog-beast. I turned to run for the trees, but a giant boulder came thrusting out of the ground, grass and dirt flying everywhere as it rumbled to block my path. The same thing happened in every direction I tried, except when I faced the sound of the dog’s pounding steps.
    Ember appeared in front of me. “I’m afraid they’ve upped the settings, Ash.”
    “So what do I do?”
    “Get hold of the dog’s collar,” she answered promptly. “I’ve been thinking, and I’m pretty sure it represents the command pathways of