City of Time by Eoin McNamee

was sleeping now. Mary un fastened the pin from her hair. Her gray hair cascaded down and in the dimness of the room she saw her reflection in a mirror and recognized the shadow of the long-haired, wild young girl that she had been longago. Despite her weariness she smiled to herself, then bent and fastened the pin in Martha's hair. She could do no more.
    Outside, Mary went slowly down the path. It was dusk now and the white shapes of moths flickered in the hedges. She stopped at a field gate and looked down toward the river. A pale mist was covering the fields and when she looked up she saw a full moon low in the sky. She frowned. The full moon was not due for another three weeks.
    Slowly and painfully she walked on. Turning the last corner, she saw the shop in front of her. She moved forward, and as she did so Johnston stepped out of the shadows, teeth bared in a wolfish grin.
    “Where are you going, Mary White?”
    “I am going home, Mr. Johnston,” she said, her own voice sounding faint and far away.
    “Do you like the moon, Mary?” Johnston said, his grin widening.
    Mary shook her head. She was tired and confused and could no longer see clearly. Johnston watched as Mary pitched forward onto the roadway. Her hands reached out for a moment as if to fend something off, and then she was still.
    At the Workhouse, Dr. Diamond looked worried. He had a model of the solar system that moved in sequence. Powered by magno, there were no strings to keep the planets in the air. Cati and Dr. Diamond both heard theclattering noise from it. When they looked at the model, they could see that the motion of the planets was distorted, with the moon in particular swinging in a wild orbit that loomed nearer to the earth.
    “What is it?” Cati asked.
    “Time and the fabric of space are intimately connected,” Dr. Diamond said. “When one is out of shape, the other is also affected. Quickly now, get three sleeping bags from the back room and pack them. What is keeping Owen and Wesley?”
    The two boys were at the river. Wesley stood looking across the fields while Owen ducked his head into the cold stream. He felt as if he could lie down and sleep. Waking Pieta had been even harder than he had thought. Wesley had unlocked the concealed stone door of the Starry for him and they had gone in. The Resisters sleeping there did not seem as disturbed as the Raggie children, but Owen could now sense an unease in the air, a feeling that things weren't quite right.
    They found Pieta slightly apart from the others, sleeping with her two children on either side of her. Her face was stern and beautiful. When Owen bent over to wake her, her mind fought with his and mocked him by slipping off into deeper and darker spaces. Where the others had sought help, Pieta's sleeping mind twisted away. Only when he was at the absolute limit of his strength did she come toward him.
    When her eyes snapped open, he fell back exhausted.
    A sardonic smile creased her face and she swung her legs off the bed in an easy catlike motion, looking first for her weapon of choice—the magno whip she wielded with such fearsome power.
    “Must be some fighting to be done, if you're waking me first,” she said.
    “Reckon so,” Wesley said.
    “What about the others?” Pieta said, looking at her children.
    “I can't,” Owen said. “I don't have enough strength.”
    Pieta looked at him long and hard, then reached out and took his chin in her hand. “Make sure you come back later and wake them then, young Owen. Do you hear me?”
    He nodded dumbly. Pieta bent swiftly and kissed each of her children on the forehead, then turned and strode out of the Starry without looking back.
    Wesley helped Owen to his feet. “A thank-you would have been nice,” Owen said, rubbing his back where he had fallen.
    “Not our Pieta's style,” Wesley said, looking after her admiringly. “But she's a good one in a fight.”
    Leaning on Wesley's shoulder, Owen made his way to the door again.