Shadowcry (22 page)

“The Skilled it is, then,” said Artemis, nodding with the wariness of someone not used to making big decisions.

“Kate?” Edgar said carefully. “Are you sure you're okay?”

Kate was looking up at the galleries as the last few people trickled out of the city square. Even though it was no longer active, she could see the symbols around the edge of the enormous listening circle as clearly as when it was linked to the veil. She could see traces of hidden energy sealed within its central stones and as she walked over the symbols she could feel it, too, like gentle vibrations beneath her feet. If this was what Silas had been talking about, he was right, it was definitely going to take some getting used to.

The moon hid briefly behind a bank of purple clouds and the stars shone down upon the glowing circle. The energy was so clear, Kate did not know how she could have missed it before. And she was not the only one attracted to its light. A large black bird flew smoothly across the empty square, soaring powerfully over her head and swooping down to land upon the bloodstained table.

“Can you see that?” she asked, as the bird perched beside the body of the dead crow.

“See what?” asked Edgar.

Kate walked slowly up to the bird, not wanting to scare it away, and when she got closer she realized that she could see right through it. Its feathers had no substance, and it flickered in and out of her sight, watching her all the time.

“It's Silas's bird,” she said.

“Yeah, I know,” said Edgar, thinking she was talking about the body on the table. “It's a shame, I suppose. Who wouldn't want a crazy feathered thing flying around taking orders from a madman? If you ask me, it got off lightly. Who'd want to spend all their time with someone like Silas? It's probably relieved to be free of him. I know I am.”

Kate stood beside the crow's body and watched its bloodied feathers ruffling in the wind. Silas had saved her life. He had spared Edgar and saved Artemis, and that bird meant something to him. If its spirit was there, maybe it had not yet gone fully over into death. If there was any way to thank Silas for what he had done, surely this was it.

Gently, she picked up the body—it was lighter than she had expected—and balanced it carefully between her hands, concentrating upon healing the wound, just as she had done with the man in the river. Nothing happened, and she was worried the bird might have been dead too long. But then, like a subtle heat growing from her bones, she felt the energy of the veil pass softly through her hands, spread into the crow's delicate body and out across its skin, healing the muscles and binding the flesh until the faint throb of a heartbeat fluttered against her palm.

The crow's spirit gathered into a thin gray wisp and sank like smoke back down into its body. Kate waited, hoping that the heartbeat would last . . . until one limp wing flapped back into life, then the other, striking the air and sending the crow tumbling out of her hands and onto the table. It scrabbled drunkenly up onto its feet and shook its feathers before screeching out a call that echoed loudly across the city square.

“Go to your master,” said Kate, picking up the crow and holding it high in the air. “Go to Silas!”

The bird took flight, swooping across the square and soaring out over the city, calling out victoriously into the night.

“It's more than he deserves,” said Artemis, climbing into a carriage as everyone else watched the bird fly away. “Come on. We're wasting time here.”

With everyone safely on board, Tom steered the horses expertly through the square's lower doors and out into the streets. The roads outside were littered with the remains of the night's celebrations, and despite what had happened in the city square, there were still hundreds of people dancing together, sharing stories of what they had seen, determined to keep celebrating until the sun rose again.

Edgar sat next to Kate, his hands and face cut by the broken window during the warden attack, and Artemis sat opposite them, his injured leg stretched on the seat beside him, his forehead wrinkled with thought. Kate wanted to heal them both, but she knew she did not have the strength. Using the circles had left her weak and tired, and healing the bird had taken the very last piece of energy she had. All she could do was sit there, watching the city pass by, feeling the secret weight of
Wintercraft
hidden safely beneath her coat.

“Don't worry,” said Edgar. “The Skilled will help us. I'm sure everything will be all right.”

After what had happened, Kate wasn't so sure about that. All she had at that moment was the brief safety of the carriage and the rhythmic rumble of its wheels as it carried her on toward an uncertain future in an unfamiliar city.

“I hope you're right,” she said.

Halfway across the city Silas and his stolen horse thundered along the streets, racing toward the southern gate and the freedom of the wild counties beyond. Silas knew every inch of that city and most of the City Below, but Fume was no longer his home. To him, its walls had been a cage for too long. Now he was free.

The gate guards saw him coming long before he reached them, his gray eyes gleaming fiercely in the dark. They unbolted the gate without waiting for his command, letting the horse and its rider gallop out into the wilds, leaving Fume and all its history behind. Silas carried with him questions the city could never answer and an ambition it could never help him reach. As a traitor he would be a hunted man, so he would find a ship and travel to the Continent, far away from Albion and the High Council, its laws, and its men. Kate Winters had allowed him to take revenge against his greatest enemy, and she had given him his freedom. The rest he was going to find on his own.

Silas followed a gravel road running alongside the red train's tracks, and he came across an old signpost marking a trader's path that was long overgrown. There, sitting on top of the sign, was a crow exactly like his own, except for a short line of white feathers running right down the center of its chest. A spark of familiar intelligence shone in its eyes, and Silas slowed his horse to a stop beneath it.

“Crow?”

The bird sat still, its eyes fixed upon the path.

Silas was about to snap the reins, cursing his mistake, when the crow looked at him, spread its wings, and circled him once before flying down to take its place upon his shoulder. Silas ran his fingers down the bird's white feathers where the wound from Da'ru's blade would have been.

“Well, Miss Winters,” he said, looking back at the city one last time. “It seems I do owe you something, after all.”

About the Author

JENNA BURTENSHAW
has been writing since she was a child, and she divides her time between her writing, her three dogs, and two rescue rabbits.
SHADOWCRY
is her first novel. Jenna Burtenshaw lives in England. You can visit her online at jennaburtenshaw.blogspot.com.

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Jacket art © 2011 by Jennifer Jill Radford
Jacket design by Sylvie Le Floc'h

Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used to advance the fictional narrative. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real.

Shadowcry

Copyright © 2011 by Jenna Burtenshaw

The right of Jenna Burtenshaw to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Burtenshaw, Jenna. [Wintercraft]
Shadowcry / by Jenna Burtenshaw.
p. cm. — (The secrets of Wintercraft)
“Greenwillow Books.”
Summary: Pursued by two ruthless members of the High Council of Albion,
fifteen-year-old Kate Winters discovers that she is one of the Skilled, a rare person
who can see through the veil between the living and the dead.
ISBN 978-0-06-202642-2 (trade bdg.) [1. Fantasy. 2. Dead—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.B94569Ni 2011   [Fic]—dc22   2010025823

EPub Edition © 2011 ISBN: 9780062084583

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