Eighth Circle

'I've watched her on TV since I was small,' she said. 'It's perhaps because we're the same age and I look like her. I listened to how she said things and kept repeating them. The kids at school made fun of me but I didn't care.'

'She's a lovely young lady ... the princess.'

'That's why I like to play her lookalike.'

'There's a rumour going around ...' the woman hesitated. 'Perhaps it's just a rumour and we are told we mustn't spread rumours because they could be put out by Plaid Koerno and the likes.'

She continued to rub her fingers through Liala's hair. Liala sensed that she only needed a bit of prompting and they would learn more. That wasn't necessary.

'A man at the festival said he had heard it on the tele. He's not from here but I've seen him before. He said that she's been kidnapped by Plaid Koerno. He was surprised I'd not heard of it. All I could say is that it's not been on our tele.'

'The princess has been kidnapped?'

'That's what he said ... and on the tele too.'

'Let's hope it's not true.'

Liala did her best to sound concerned. She'd just said how much she adored the princess. She couldn't keep quiet. But speaking was risky. Every time she opened her mouth her voice could give her away.

To her relief the woman changed the subject.

'I've never come across anything like it.'

She pummelled Liala's hair.

'Whatever did you dye it with?'

'I don't know,' Liala shrugged. 'A friend did it.'

'Well. It's not coming out. I'll have to bleach it.'

'Do whatever is necessary,' Allain cut in. 'We can't go back with her like that. It's alright to play the part of a princess at a festival but you are breaking the law if you go around pretending to be one.'

'That's right. We don't want you to end up at Elm Grove West.'

'Where?' Liala asked.

'Elm Grove West. You know. The correctional centre.'

Liala guessed that correctional centre was another name for prison. The woman's next remark set her teeth on edge.

'My husband works there.'

She said it in such a matter-of-fact voice. It was as if working for the guardians as a prison officer was a perfectly acceptable way to earn a living. That might be true if the local jail was for ordinary criminals but it wasn't. It was where the guardians kept political prisoners and did terrible things to them.

Liala glanced at Allain. He didn't looked ruffled but he didn't look relaxed either. She smelt bleach and shut her eyes. The woman rubbed it into her hair. More bleach was applied. Then more. The fingers continued to rub and the woman continued to mutter, saying she had never come across anything like it.