Ominous clouds accompanied the ferry as it crawled up the eastern side of Esperance, past the Gothic turrets of the university, all the way to the city’s northernmost edge. Esme, Daniel, and Lillian disembarked amongst the ruins of the old fortress known as the Citadel: a maze of knee-high blocks of stone, swaying grass, and crumbling doorways that led to nowhere.
The only modern structure was a squat grey building by the lagoon’s edge. It led down to the underground part of the Citadel, still intact, now serving as the city’s prison. That was where Esme had last seen Celia Skye, who, according to a poll Esme had spotted in the Esperance Daily that morning, was now the front runner in the mayoral race.
‘I’ve always admired her.’ The glowing opinions of a number of Celia’s supporters had
