Blood Storm: The Second Book of Lharmell (22 page)

It was only once I was back in my room that I began to panic.

Penritha’s guard was stationed outside my door. I ran to my balcony, already knowing that it was hopeless. There was a hundred-foot drop to the ground below. Even if I had that many sheets to tie together I would be too terrified to attempt the climb down. I looked up and saw only the sheer face of the palace walls rising to the battlements above.

I went back in. The room was dark and I huddled behind a sofa, needing the security that concealment brought. I hugged my knees to my chest and shivered on the cold marble floor.

I had to kill Folsum. If I didn’t kill him he would kill me, or worse. I must do it soon, and do it properly. I would never get a second chance once he was on his guard. If I killed him in Amentia while he was still bedridden I could take a horse and disappear into the forest. There was the risk that I’d run into harmings but, honestly, being taken to Lharmell would almost be a blessing. Anything to get me away from Penritha and her guard.

Could I do it; murder him in cold blood? Creep into his room at night and slit his throat? I thought of the harming in Verapine that Rodden had not wanted me to kill; his words, all those weeks ago.

No matter how remorseful you are or even if you have no choice in the matter, you’ll always be that person, the one holding the knife, with blood on their hands
.

I wondered what would be worse: being a cold-blooded murderer or wedded to Folsum. I felt the sting of my scars against the cold marble wall and knew what I’d choose when the time came. No matter what it made me.

Something thumped on my balcony. I sat up. There was silence, and then a slithering sound and a louder thump.

I froze. Harmings? I reached out tentatively with my mind –

Rodden
. I leapt to my feet. I was on the balcony in a second and threw myself into his arms with such force that he staggered. I pressed my face into his shirt and squeezed him with all my might.

‘Zeraphina, I have been gone less than a day.’ His voice was exasperated but his hands buried themselves in my hair, and for a moment he held me as tight as I held him. He smelled of wood smoke and strange chemicals and the sharp tang of the desert.

‘I need to rescue you more often, it seems,’ he drawled.

I pulled away and looked up at him. ‘They’re going to make me marry him.’

‘Nonsense. I’ve a fate far worse in mind for you.’ With a flourish he indicated the knotted rope he’d used to climb down to my balcony. ‘You might want to change, though. Warm clothes and boots.’

For the first time I noticed he wore his black harming cloak. My eyes widened. He saw the question in them and said, ‘We’re going to Lharmell tonight.’

Minutes later I stood on the balcony wearing boots and trousers and my own black cloak. I clutched Leap
in my arms. ‘How am I going to get him up there?’ I asked, looking at the sheer climb ahead of me. I was only barely certain that I could do it myself, let alone while carrying my big silver cat.

‘I don’t know if you can bring him,’ Rodden said.

‘Of course I can bring him! He’s very capable, aren’t you, Leap?’ Leap was looking about with big worried eyes. He knew something was wrong. ‘I need him.’

‘We’re going to be in the very heart of Lharmell for days. He might get spotted. They’ll kill him.’

I hugged Leap to my chest. ‘But he’s very careful . . .’ I trailed off. Leap wanted to come, I could feel it. He wriggled in my arms, pushing himself up under my chin and holding tight to my cloak with his claws. I bit my lip. Rodden was right. Leap couldn’t fly to safety like Griffin could. He would be safer at the palace. It wasn’t right to bring him just because I would be heartsick without him.

‘Griffin can come, though,’ I said firmly. On the balcony rail, Griffin glared as if daring anyone to suggest otherwise. Glared even more than usual, that is.

‘Griffin will be very useful,’ Rodden agreed. ‘In fact, she’s a vital part of the plan.’ He took Leap from
me, carefully detaching his paws. I planted a kiss on my cat’s fuzzy head and told him to be good. He looked very forlorn, sitting there watching us leave. I made him promise to keep out of Penritha’s sight, to hide until our return. And then I was climbing the rope, hand over hand, my feet braced against the castle wall, up into the darkness. After twenty feet my hands were burning in my gloves. I was only halfway and the thought of the drop beneath me – not just twenty feet, but a hundred and twenty, because if I fell I was unlikely to stop at the balcony – made a pang go through the soles of my feet. Somewhere above me, Griffin made a clicking noise in her throat. I saw myself in her mind’s eye, a deficient, wingless creature who was forever struggling over flat surfaces. I reached the battlements and tugged myself over, gasping. I held fast to the rope as Rodden climbed up after me, knowing it was tied securely but still seeing that drop into darkness. As soon as he appeared I grasped his arms and pulled him over the top. He was breathing heavily too and shot Griffin an annoyed look.

‘I would like to see how silly you’d look if you had to walk everywhere,’ he said.

Griffin ruffled her feathers and glared in the other direction.

The sky was full of stars and an enormous moon. It was not quite full. When it was, there would be a Turning. Our brants were tethered a few yards off. In the darkness their beaks shone black. As I took stock of our situation I found it uncomfortably familiar – fleeing one danger in Pergamia only to land in even more peril across the straits in Lharmell. But this time I had Rodden and we were prepared. My feet wouldn’t burn in the forest, because I had boots. I wouldn’t stumble unarmed into a coven of Lharmellins. I would shoot them full of arrows and hear their dying screams.

The brants had bulging saddlebags strapped to their girths – the glass balls, filled with yelbar gas. Enough to kill all the Lharmellins in Lharmell? Possibly. But probably not. But if we destroyed their leader – their true leader this time – we might stand a chance at knocking out the rest one at a time. As well as the gas we had quivers filled with yelbar-tipped arrows and a yelbar knife each. I itched for some target practice.

‘We’ve only got a small window of time to depart,’ Rodden whispered. ‘I’ve told the captain of the guard to stand down his archers. It puts the palace at risk for an attack so we only have minutes. After that, they’ll fire at anything in the sky. Are you ready?’

My stomach lurched but I nodded. We mounted our birds. I saw that Griffin was settled on the saddle horn and with the beating of sooty black wings, we were off.

Looking down, I saw the outline of archers against the battlements, their bows lowered but ever vigilant, watching the skies. Rodden hailed a figure as we banked the birds and shot past the eastern parapet. I heard a shout of triumph and recognised Hoggit’s voice. Then we were climbing, up into the night sky. The ground fell away to forest beneath us, then briefly cliff and rock and pounding spray. And then open ocean. In just minutes the temperature dropped from freshness to crackling cold. My ears stung in the frosty air.

For the first time in months the pain in my back began to shrink. The tors could feel me coming.

I kept my eyes fixed on the horizon. I could see the silver-tipped swell of the ocean. Then in almost no time at all, the silver gave way to a black hole of nothingness.

Lharmell.

It frightened me all over again just how close it was to Pergamia. I searched the blackness as we passed over but nothing in the burnt forest reflected any light. It seemed to suck in the moonlight.
I wondered how many Lharmellins and harmings were abroad, and tightened the hold on my mind.

I lifted my eyes and saw the tors, craggy on the dark horizon, outlined against the stars. Something twisted painfully in my breast. There was part of me that longed for the tors. The pain disappeared altogether and was replaced by a rush of euphoria.

Home
.

The word beat out a rhythm on my bones. I was home. The Lharmellins were my family. My blood.

And I was going to kill them all.

SEVENTEEN

W
e didn’t put the birds down where we’d hidden the last time, at the dolmen just outside the tors. Instead, after skimming the forest we began to rise again, flying over the mountain and into the very heart of Lharmell.

I searched the skies with my eyes and mind. All seemed quiet. We reached the peaks and hurtled down the other side, our birds wing to wing. I flew with Rodden round the curve of the bowl-shaped valley, an ancient spent volcano crater filled with trees and rocky outcrops. With a whisper of feathers and the thud of talons on soil, we put the birds down. I slid from my mount. There was a copse of trees and not far off the yawning mouth of a cave. I felt a flash of recognition. That was the place I’d seen
in the harming’s mind at the Jarbin village. The new Turning place.

Rodden cut through the cords that held the saddlebags. I took one from him, hearing the faint tinkling of glass. The bag was almost as big as I was, and very round. It weighed next to nothing though and I followed Rodden into the trees. Branches scratched at me in the darkness and the litter was very thick and crunchy underfoot. We hid the bags under some bushes and scattered them with leaf litter. It was a poor camouflage, but the earthy colour of the bags would help disguise them. As long as no one was actively searching the area they would be safe. We did the same with the second set of bags and then mounted our brants.

At any second I expected the blood-curdling scream of a harming to pierce the darkness, but all was eerily quiet.

This time we alighted in the forest outside the tors. I stared round at the trees, marvelling that little had changed since we were last here. The trunks were still blackened. Not a leaf or blade of grass grew. I’d walked alone through this forest in the tatters of my ball gown, alone and afraid. Somewhere not far from here was the cave where I’d first convinced Rodden that we had to start fighting the Lharmellins; that we couldn’t afford
to wait any longer. I still marvelled at that: that this man who could be so stubborn, so frustrating, had listened to me. But then, I could be just as stubborn. And more to the point, I had been right.

I stroked the brant’s neck for a moment. This had been the one to turn on Folsum after he’d given it a beating, and likely saved my life. ‘Thank you,’ I whispered. It shuffled left and right for a moment, and then nudged at my shoulder with its beak. The force nearly knocked me down but I could recognise an affectionate gesture.

Rodden swigged from a water skin. He passed it to me. ‘Three nights till the full moon. That gives us time to get everything in place. If we’re able to seal that cave . . . nothing is getting out alive.’

‘Including us,’ I said. ‘We have to be careful.’

Rodden was lost in thought.

I nudged him with my foot. ‘Rodden, did you hear me? We have to be careful. We could get trapped at the Turning.’ I remembered the press of bodies, the uncontrollable urge to strain towards the Lharmellin blood. I thought I would be able to keep my wits about me this time, but Rodden and I could so easily be separated.

‘What? Oh. Of course. You’ll be fine, don’t worry. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.’

‘To us,’ I corrected.

‘Listen, I’ve been thinking . . .’

I shoved the cork back in the water skin. ‘
What
have you been thinking?’

‘There’s no need for us both to go to the Turning. Only one of us needs to seal the exit and break the master glass. I should have thought of it back at the palace, but I’ve gotten so used to us doing things together. And I didn’t want to leave you to Penritha and her sabre-rattling.’

‘That’s because we’re better when we work together. What if you’re trying to seal the exit and you get seen?’ What if he got trapped inside and broke the master glass anyway, thinking he was doing the right thing? I wouldn’t put it past Rodden to do such a thing.

‘Well, I’d fight them off,’ he said with a shrug.

‘There could be too many. Anything could happen. And you’re forgetting the most important thing.’

‘What?’

‘I’m not going to let you.’

He gave me a wry smile. ‘I should have realised as much.’

‘Yes, you should.’

‘All right. But I’m taking the master glass. And
I’m not breaking it or sealing anything unless I know you’re well away from the Turning.’

I nodded. ‘Fine by me. What do we do in the meantime?’

‘We could see what we can learn from the other harmings,’ he suggested. ‘Who’s in charge. How many harmings they’re expecting. It could help us in the future if this plan fails somehow.’

‘Is it safe to talk to them, do you think?’

‘It would mean splitting up. We’re more recognisable together. I would prefer you not going in at all, but –’

‘But I’m stubborn,’ I finished for him. ‘We can learn more if we both enter the tors. I’ll seal my mind like a vice. Hide behind my hair. They shan’t recognise me.’

Pre-dawn blackness lightened to blue-grey gloom. Black slashes became the twisted, burned trunks of trees. Heavy grey clouds threatened rain, or possibly even snow. It was cold enough for it. Frost glimmered on the forest floor.

I shivered. I’d relinquished my cloak and hidden it in some bushes. Alone, I’d run snarls into my hair.
I would have liked to rub dirt under my nails and into my face, but it would have burned me. The Lharmellins made the trees and ground around Lharmell toxic by calling down acid rain.

I’d positioned myself on what seemed to be a well-worn track half a mile from the tors, hoping I looked like a forlorn, confused part-harming who’d gotten this far but was too scared or stupid to go any further. I had a yelbar knife concealed beneath my clothes and had to resist the urge to pass my hand over it for comfort.

Rodden was approaching the tors from another direction. We might not see each other until it was time to seal the cave.

I heard a crunching noise. Footsteps. There wasn’t just one harming. It sounded like a whole group of them.

They appeared through the trees. The two in front stood straight, their cloaks billowing around them. Trailing after them was a clutch of figures with shoulders hunched, wearing a collection of rags. The Turned leading the un-Turned.

Half a dozen pale blue eyes fastened onto me. I forced my mind blank but didn’t bother to conceal my look of terror as they approached. I stayed where I was, teeth chattering, my eyes darting among the figures.

‘Praise for blood,’ said one of the figures at the front. He lifted a sardonic brow.

The other, a female, snorted. ‘Close your flipping mouth, girl.’

I closed it.

The woman, in her late twenties perhaps and short and stout, narrowed her eyes, and I felt something dark and sticky brush my mind. She sighed. ‘Another half-wit, and half-starved too by the look of her. Look at her skin – all the way from Pol, I’ll bet.’

‘And cut up good, too,’ remarked the man, noticing the stripes on my neck. ‘Runaway slave. Someone catch you feeding?’

‘Aye, look at the way she perks up at that. Hungry, are you? Well, so am I, so get in behind,’ she snapped.

I scurried to the rear of the group. The woman started off at a brisk walk and the un-Turned trailed after, clutching our goose-pimpled arms.

The man noticed me trailing and slowed his pace. ‘Cold, are you?’

I nodded and looked at the ground.

‘Never mind, girl, we’ll have you at the tors soon enough and get you a belly full o’ blood.’ He made to clutch me about the shoulders but I evaded him. ‘Scared, were you,’ he asked, ‘coming all this way by
yourself? Aye, I imagine you were. And been scared many a time before, I can see.’ He nodded at my shoulders. ‘Them cuts go all over, I bet.’ He tutted. ‘Humans. Rotten creatures.’

I was surprised by his words. Could he really think of humans how we thought of harmings? But then, it had been a human who’d done this to me. I’d put Folsum on a par with most harmings I’d met.

‘Never find us treating each other in such a manner,’ he went on. ‘There’s no need to be afeared any more, chit. We’ll take care of you. You’re home now.’

We trudged along the forest paths and collected seven more cold and bewildered newcomers. Some had used brants, as I had the first time I’d come to Lharmell, not knowing what I was getting into but clambering aboard the giant bird just the same. Some had come in boats. Others had travelled with full-fledged harmings. The Turned greeted one another and then stood about assessing each other’s contribution to the Lharmellin cause like we were so many cattle.

‘Sorry bloody bunch.’

‘Snivelling idiots, most o’ them.’

‘He’ll do all right, that one there. Arms like tree trunks. He’ll go well in the field. Not a fighter among the rest of them, though.’

‘Just look at her,’ said the woman, kicking dirt in my direction. ‘What was our brother thinking what made her? Mind like a dull tack.’

This went on for a bit longer while us ‘sorry bloody bunch’ grew colder and colder.

Finally, the woman sighed. ‘All right. Call down the birds. I’m hungry.’

A moment later eight black shapes appeared in the sky above the forest. A ripple of unease went through the un-Turned, even though most had already ridden on the giant birds. As they dived towards us I let rip with my loudest, most terrified shrieking, and got boxed about the ears. Several others cowered, hands over their heads. I followed suit, dropping to the ground, careful not to let any bare skin touch the dirt.

The harmings roared with laughter and yanked us up by the scruffs of our clothing.

‘Quiet yourself, chit,’ said the man who had collared me. ‘Only a few birdies. They don’t mean you any harm. Come on, you’ll ride with me.’ He looped an arm about my waist and carried me bodily
to the waiting mounts. I took a deep breath, preparing to scream, but he cut me off. ‘I don’t like to, but if you scream in my ear I’m not above clouting you a good ’un.’

I reasoned I’d probably made a fair impression already. No one suspected I was the rebel harming who’d last year infiltrated a Turning and murdered their leader before their very eyes.

So I closed my mouth.

He lifted me onto the bird and climbed up after. ‘Now, sit still, or you’ll fall and break your damn silly legs.’

I had been surprised by the amount of leaf litter the previous evening and now I saw where it came from. The valley within the tors had, months earlier, been filled with evergreens. Now they were stripped and blackened. That was because of Rodden and me, and the acid storm the Lharmellins had called down after we’d slain their leader. It had killed the brant we’d been riding, separated us from Griffin, and nearly killed us, too.

From the air I saw the movements of bodies clothed in black and brown and grey, but it was
difficult to tell numbers among the burned trees. The harmings set the birds down. I dismounted, the harming man holding tight to my wrist.

‘What is your name?’ I asked him, staring into the crowd. Hundreds, I thought, watching the milling bodies. Perhaps thousands.

‘Gribben.’

I was tired of playing the frightened idiot. ‘Let go of me, Gribben,’ I said.

My tone startled him. He dropped my arm. Without a backwards look I marched into the crowd.