The Blood Debt (10 page)

And there was something else. She immediately sensed what Sal and Tom were referring to: a concentration of the Change, a knot of vitality that lurked in the tangled web of the Broken Lands directly in their path.

‘Is it the Homunculus?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know,’ said Tom. Through Sal she could sense his nervousness. ‘It’s definitely on the road, though.’

His foot edged off the accelerator. The throbbing growl of the engine dropped back a notch.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ he said.

Sal’s jaw muscles bunched. Shilly tightened her grip on his arm.

Before either of them could suggest anything, a bright light exploded high up in the sky. Shilly shielded her eyes against the sudden glare and squinted between her fingers. A miniature sun transformed the world into a realm of stark black and white. Harsh details leapt out at her: a jagged shelf of rocks to the left of the road; the bitten roughness of Sal’s fingernails where his hands gripped her shoulder; the strange way the shadows moved as the new sun sank towards the Earth.

‘It’s a flare!’ said Tom, pulling the buggy to an ungainly halt. Another sun blossomed to one side of the first. ‘Two of them!’

‘Who’s firing them?’ asked Sal.

‘And whose attention are they trying to attract?’ Shilly added. Movement in the stark landscape caught her eye. ‘Look!’

Something was running towards them along the road, waving its arms. A surge of adrenaline gripped her.

Sal stood up in the seat. She felt the Change stirring in him, gathering like a thunderhead. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

‘No!’ Tom grabbed Sal’s leg. ‘Wait!’

The figure ran into the light cast by the buggy’s headlights.
Blue,
she thought, and her heart anxiously tripped a beat; old habits die hard.

‘A Sky Warden!’ exclaimed Sal. The thunder head receded slightly. ‘We’ve found the search party.’

Tom was the only one who didn’t seem reassured. ‘What are they doing?’ he asked, his frown deeply etched in the shadow cast by the flares. ‘Why are they giving themselves away like this?’

Shilly didn’t say anything. The Warden was almost upon them. She figured that, in a moment, they would have their answer.

* * * *

‘You’re a sight for sore eyes, young Tom.’ The woman was in her middle years, round-faced and heavyset with short brown hair and good-humoured eyes that never stopped moving.

‘Warden Banner?’ Tom’s expression was still one of puzzlement. ‘I didn’t expect to find you here.’

‘Glad to see the universe can still toss you a surprise or two. We heard the sound of your buggy but didn’t know who you were. That’s why we sent up the flares. You might have run into us in the dark, or worse. Only when you got closer did I recognise the cadence of your engine and decide to head you off.’

Sal wanted to ask what she meant by
worse
but was struck temporarily dumb by the blue robe and the torc. Banner motioned that he should make room for her in the back seat. He did so, taking Tom’s acceptance of her at face value, for the moment. ‘I was dragged along for the ride when you went missing, Tom. They needed an Engineer, and Marmion would only have the best.’

‘Warden Banner was my first tutor at the Novitiate,’ said Tom, almost shyly.

‘Not for long.’ She mussed his hair with genuine fondness. ‘This one has taught me a thing or two since.’

‘You’re not here alone, I presume,’ said Shilly, bringing the conversation back to the immediate.

‘Goddess, no. The others are up ahead.’ She pointed past Tom’s cheek. ‘Take us onto the shoulder up there, by that outcrop. We’re parked just over the hill.’

Tom revved the engine and put the buggy back into gear. Sal was glad they were moving again; he felt dangerously exposed being stationary in the Broken Lands.

‘So, Tom,’ the Warden said when they had travelled a short distance, ‘are you going to introduce your friends or are they going to have to do it themselves?’

Sal and Shilly exchanged a quick glance.

‘They’re Sal and Shilly,’ said Tom without hesitation. ‘I asked them to help.’

‘You did, did you?’ Banner’s sharp gaze examined them in detail. Her warmth didn’t ebb, but the lines around her eyes drew together. ‘Well, this should be interesting.’

Sal felt his teeth beginning to clench in a familiar anticipation of conflict and forced himself to relax. He wasn’t a child any more. The Wardens had no claim over him or his talent. At the first sign of overt hostility, he could just leave.

Or could he? Despite the long, exhausting drive, he felt as if they had caught up to the search party with great suddenness. He had no idea what he would do if they did reject him and Shilly. Would he go back home or continue searching on his own? How much
exactly
did he owe his real father?

Banner’s eyes flicked forward as Tom reached the outcrop. ‘See that track? Follow it to the bottom. Flash your lights twice.’

Tom did everything she said without hesitation. The buggy bounced down the side of a shallow hill, jolting in and out of potholes and ruts, shaking the last dregs of sleep from Sal. They found themselves in the middle of a petrified forest. Grey tree stumps, as rough as bark but as solid as stone, surrounded them like silent spectators. Out of the darkness between them emerged the shapes of two angular open-frame vehicles large enough to hold a dozen people each, and a domed tent. A faint tang of smoke hung in the air.

Tom flashed the lights as instructed and a small group of people emerged from their hiding places. Eyes and crystal torcs glinted in the glare. Sal’s shoulder muscles ached from tension.

‘Stop here.’ Tom brought the buggy to a halt and killed the engine. ‘All clear!’ Banner called to the rest of her party. ‘Looks like we picked up some stragglers.’

One of the Wardens said a short, sharp word, and light blossomed from three mirror-finished cylinders on spikes, anchored in the ground around the impromptu campsite. By the stored starlight, Sal made out more than a dozen men and women moving in to get a better look at them. One of the men was the tallest Sal had ever seen, a rangy giant with thick black hair crowning a deeply lined face. The only one not wearing a torc or a blue robe, his attire consisted of practical leather pants and an open-necked shirt.

It was this man who spoke first. ‘Stragglers, eh? I suppose that fool Braham sent you. Doesn’t he trust us?’

One of the other men hissed. ‘Show some respect, Kail. The Alcaide knows what he’s doing.’

‘Not out here he doesn’t.’ The rangy giant spat into the dirt and stalked away.

Banner alighted from the buggy and whispered quickly into the ear of the second man who had spoken. Shorter, with a receding hairline and a soft, oval face, he looked more like the Wardens Sal was used to than the hard, abrupt Kail.

Whatever Banner said, it provoked an instant reaction. ‘Why would he do that?’ he asked, looking at Tom, then Sal and Shilly, in alarm.

‘They say they’re here to help.’ Banner stepped back in deference to the balding Warden. She looked relieved that they were no longer her problem.

Sal didn’t need Tom’s prophetic dreams to tell him what was going to happen next. They were about to be told to go home without being given the chance to speak.

‘I’m Sal Hrvati,’ he said, standing up in the back of the buggy and dismounting. ‘This is Shilly of Gooron. We’re here to find my father.’

A whisper went through the Wardens. The balding Warden nodded as though accepting a challenge. ‘I’m Eisak Marmion, the leader of this expedition. Alcaide Braham gave us the task of locating Highson Sparre, and us alone.’

‘Have you found him yet?’ asked Shilly, coming to stand with Sal.

‘We know where he is.’

‘That’s not the same thing.’

‘I’m not required,’ said Marmion, moving closer, ‘to explain myself to you.’

‘Well, we’re here now,’ said Sal, ‘and we’re willing to help. It’d be easier if you did explain.’

‘We don’t need your help.’

A bark of laughter came from the shadows. Kail’s angular silhouette reappeared. ‘What are you going to do, Marmion? Force him to leave?’

The balding Warden shot Kail a cold glance. ‘The best tracker in the Strand has assured us that we’ll have the fugitive within our grasp sooner rather than later. Isn’t that right, Kail?’

‘We would’ve had him now if you hadn’t got us stuck here like pigs in a bog,’ replied the rangy tracker. ‘While we twiddle our thumbs, he’s slipping further and further out of our reach!’

An old argument was gathering momentum between the two men. To forestall it, Sal said, ‘Highson Sparre is not a fugitive.’

‘No?’ snapped Marmion, turning on him. ‘Then why is he running from us?’

‘He’s not running from you. He’s hunting the Homunculus, as you should be. That’s the important thing.’

Marmion fumed. ‘Your father may not think he’s a fugitive, Sal, but he is a thief. His actions have resulted in the death of at least one man. Until he deigns to explain himself, I am justified in seeking him
as well as
the thing he summoned. Since he’s following the Homunculus, finding him will find the other. Does that make the situation clear to you?’ His gaze swept the circle of Wardens. ‘Would any of you like to question my judgment while we’re at it?’

Shilly raised her hand.

‘I wasn’t asking you,’ Marmion said.

‘I know, but I’d still like to know. Why
are
you sitting here twiddling your thumbs? Why aren’t you doing what you set out to do?’

For a moment, Sal thought she had pushed Marmion too far. His eyes bugged and his face went red. He raised one finger and pointed it at her like a weapon. A whisper of the Change rustled through the campsite like a fitful breeze. Sal tensed, ready to defend her if she needed it.

Then a switch seemed to trip inside the Warden, and the pressure eased.

‘All right,’ he said lowering his hand. ‘We might as well put you to use. Banner, get Tom under the hoods of the buses. I want them ready to roll before midnight. Kail, check the course Sparre is following and make sure it matches the one on our charts. You two,’ he pointed to Sal and Shilly, ‘come with me.’

He turned and headed off into the darkness, robe flapping between his legs. Sal hesitated a second, then followed. Shilly came with him, leaning heavily on her stick when the terrain became rough underfoot.

Marmion led them unerringly away from the parked vehicles. He had obviously walked this way many times. Sal tried to discern any details out of the darkness, but his eyes had adjusted to the mirror-light: the absence of landmarks was profound. He took Shilly’s hand to steady her, and was glad of
her
support when he tripped over a stony tree stump and almost went sprawling.

‘Where are we going?’

The silhouette of Marmion looked over his shoulder. ‘Let’s make one thing absolutely clear, Sal. I’m under no obligation to tell you anything. You’re here without invitation and without my approval. That may be your father out there, but Alcaide Braham put me in charge of this search party, and I will not bow to your threats or manipulation.’

The Warden’s persistent defensiveness surprised him. ‘We’re not trying to manipulate you,’ he started to say, but Shilly interrupted him.

‘Warden Marmion, are you afraid of us?’

‘Of course not,’ Marmion responded immediately. ‘Why would I be afraid of you? You’re just a couple of young idiots off on an adventure.’

But Sal could hear the fear loudly in the man’s voice, underlying the anger it disguised. The understanding dismayed him. There had been incidents in the past, yes, but they were forgotten now — or so he had hoped. What did Marmion think they were? Monsters?

‘Don’t mistake us for something we’re not,’ Shilly said. ‘We’re not kids, and we’re not completely ignorant. Someone we care about is in trouble, and we’re trying to help. The past is irrelevant. If we work together, we’ll do a much better job than if we work separately or against each other.’

Sal smiled in the darkness. Shilly was good at getting what she wanted. The fact that they had lived in Fundelry for so long without anyone giving them away was testimony to her diplomatic skills.

Marmion, however, was no hick Alder or Mayor.

‘No one knows exactly what happened five years ago,’ he said, his voice less strident than it had been, ‘when you escaped from the Haunted City. You defied the Alcaide, the Syndic and the Conclave with suspicious ease; someone must have helped you do it. Although he denied the charge, Highson Sparre is commonly assumed to be that someone. So don’t give me any empty rhetoric about wanting to help your father out of the goodness of your heart. You’re two fugitives helping a third — helping him get away
from me.
That’s how I see it. Yes, you can stay, but be assured that at the slightest sign you’re betraying those I serve, you will suffer the consequences.’

‘We understand,’ said Shilly, her voice grave. ‘And now we’ve got the posturing out of the way, are you going to tell us what we’re doing out here? Or is stumbling around in the dark the way you usually go about your business?’

Marmion drew a sharp breath.

Without warning, all sensation of the Change fell away, as though a heavy veil had been drawn over the world.

* * * *

Shilly and Sal stopped dead and looked around in alarm. Superficially, the night seemed no different from a second ago: there was no sound apart from the sighing of the wind; the multitude of stars still twinkled above. But something essential had been taken away from it. The Change was as important a part of the world as light, and without it Shilly felt like someone suddenly struck blind.

‘What did you do?’ she heard Sal ask Marmion.

His words fell flat and lifeless on her ears. ‘What have you done to us?’

‘Nothing,’ said the Warden. He had stopped walking and turned to face them. ‘You feel it, then.’

‘Of course we feel it.’ Sal looked around. ‘This spot is —’ He struggled for words. ‘—
dead.’

‘Is it a Change-sink?’ she asked.

‘No, and it’s not just here,’ Marmion said. ‘The deadness extends all the way from here back to Guhida, to where we started. What you’re feeling is the wake of the Homunculus.’