The Blood Debt (45 page)

From his elevated position, he could see that the migrations’ dust trails were bending north, also heading for Laure. When he swivelled to quiz Mawson about it, he found the man’kin being interrogated by one of the wardens, who was frowning as most people did after talking to Mawson for too long.

‘What do the man’kin want?’ Skender asked into a break in the conversation.

‘We want the same thing you do,’
said Mawson.
‘To survive.’’

‘But what can kill you, apart from a sledgehammer? You don’t need to eat, drink or breathe. You don’t die of natural causes. The only disease I’ve ever known you to suffer from is mould.’

‘We are mortal. We begin and therefore we must end.
’

‘Is that why the untamed man’kin are afraid of the Homunculus?’

‘Yes:

‘Could it kill
you?’

‘It does, every time we fall under its shadow:

Skender nodded, wondering if he was beginning to appreciate the problem. When a man’kin became tangled in the wake of the twins, it ceased to be. That the man’kin returned to life when the twins moved on was irrelevant. For an awful time, a living mind was reduced to nothing. That would be worse than sleeping, worse even than the Void Beneath. Who wouldn’t be afraid?

‘What about the Angel?’ he asked. ‘Can you tell me more about that?’

‘The Angel is necessary,’
said Mawson, his heavy stone features wrinkling into a frown.
‘It is the gathering point, the focus.’

‘Of what?’

‘Of us.’

‘Do you mean the man’kin, or humans too?’

‘The Angel draws many kinds towards it.
We
will not all survive without it.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because the Angel is essential to our survival.’

‘Why?’ he asked, even though he knew he would probably regret it.

‘Because without it we will not all survive.’

He shook his head. Man’kin didn’t see the world the way ordinary people did. Their sense of logic and causality wasn’t so much circular as bound up in loops. They saw the future, past and present all at once, but not just
one
discrete version of the future or the past. It depended, apparently, on which way they were looking — when ‘which way’ had less to do with the orientation of their gaze than with what they were trying to see.

‘Can you be any clearer than that?’ he tried.

‘To me it is perfectly clear,’
said the stone bust with eyebrows raised.
‘Your questions are as obtuse as ever.’

‘Skender!’ called Chu. ‘Stop chatting and get those eyes of yours pointing forward.’

Skender did as he was told. ‘What?’

‘See anything unusual?’

He looked around, studying the flow of the wind. The heavy lifter was nearing the Wall. The currents were chaotic there, but for the moment the dirigible was in no danger.

He looked behind them and saw nothing out of the ordinary there, either. Pirelius and the twins had taken to a creek bed, as he and Sal had. That he couldn’t see them was no cause for alarm; at least one warden watched them at all times, tracing their every movement via a telescope focused on the Divide floor. He was sure he would’ve heard if something had gone astray.

‘No, why?’

Her stare challenged him to try again. ‘What about the other flyers?’

‘What about them? They’re —’ He stopped in mid-sentence, realising then what she was hinting at. ‘They’re gone! What happened to them? Where did they go?’

‘They flew away.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know, and I don’t like it.’ Chu gripped a lever tightly in both hands. ‘Keep an eye out. I think something’s up.’

He agreed. Without the mocking calls of Kazzo and his buddies, the sky had fallen eerily silent. Chu seemed apprehensive as she worked the controls, which he could understand. Casting her lot with the Sky Wardens had seen her wing returned, but now she was tangled up in their messy quest. She had helped them cross the Divide and steal the heavy lifter; if they were in trouble with the Magister, so was she.

Her nervousness was infectious. Skender kept his gaze moving, looking everywhere for anything out of the ordinary as the charm-painted Wall grew steadily larger ahead.

‘I wish we could just fly away,’ he told her, feeling a sudden and almost overpowering urge to be reckless. ‘Leave everything behind and keep on going.’

‘Why don’t we?’ she responded, adjusting the heavy lifter’s trim with a deft tug on the controls before her.

‘Marmion would freak, for a start, and Dad would be unhappy if I left the buggy behind. How much fuel does this thing have, anyway? My home is a long way away from here.’

‘Let’s go to the Hanging Mountains instead,’ she said. ‘To hell with Marmion. We could just dump him and run.’

Chu’s grin told him she didn’t expect him to take her seriously. He didn’t doubt, though, that the sentiment was an honest one, and he was genuinely tempted by it. He had rescued his mother; the twins were irrelevant. What else did he have to hang around for?

The suggestion drew his gaze to the northeast, where the grey wall of mountains seemed to hang on the edge of visibility. A shelf of white cloud obscured the largest peak, like a single blossom on a stunted branch. He wondered what the fog forests and the balloon cities really looked like.

Reality intruded in the form of turbulence as they entered the complicated airspace over the city. He laughed at himself and his notions. First a date, then an adventure that practically amounted to elopement? Yeah, right. If the Magister kicked Chu out of the city or made life too uncomfortable for her to stay,
then
maybe she’d leave, but not before. While she had a shot at getting a licence, she would stay exactly where she was.

Thinking of the licence reminded him that he had a job to do. The heavy lifter rocked as the winds around them surged and roiled. Skender gave Chu an update on the currents ahead, and she adjusted course, aiming roughly for Observatory Tower, where she had unsuccessfully tried to steal eagle eggs. When he next looked at her, her grin had faded.

The gondola shuddered more strongly than before. A puff of cold brushed Skender’s cheek.

‘This feels wrong,’ said Chu.

‘Your bones again?’

‘Yes. Are you
sure
you can’t see anything?’

He couldn’t honestly be sure. The wind tumbled around them, looking much the same as before, but he wasn’t as familiar with the ways of the city as she was. He could be missing the obvious.

A splash of red caught his eye in the city below. He looked down, through the wind. One of the city’s weather-workers, the yadachi, stood on a pole, arms outstretched and mouth open. The crimson-robed figure appeared to be staring right at them.

The sight accompanied another gust of wind. Skender shivered. A second yadachi became visible to his left, also with arms outstretched. The weather-worker’s mouth hung open, wailing an endless prayer to the sky for clemency.

Or for something else entirely, Skender thought. The heavy lifter rocked violently as a new force struck it from the side. Skender hung on tight. The gondola swayed violently, prompting cries of alarm.

‘What was that?’ Chu yelled, wrestling with the controls.

‘The yadachi! They’re doing something to us!’ That he couldn’t see it didn’t prove him wrong. The yadachi had made his licence using the sample of blood he had given them, so presumably they knew how to interfere with it from a distance. Again the gondola bounced. ‘We have to land!’

Marmion came forward through the crowded gondola, steadying himself against the increasing turbulence with every step. ‘Your mother reports that the hangar is guarded,’ he said. ‘If we try to land there, we’ll be arrested immediately.’

‘On what grounds?’

‘We’ve been charged with trying to bring a man’kin into the city without permission. And we’re guilty as charged.’

Skender thought of Mawson. ‘Sure, but — how did they know about him?’

Chu scowled. ‘Kazzo must have told them, the little shit.’

‘However they knew,’ said Marmion, ‘it presents us with a problem. Is there somewhere else we can put down?’

The dirigible shook. The sky quaked. ‘Under this kind of attack? No. It’s too risky. We could blow sideways and tear the bladder.’

‘What about Slaughter Square?’ asked Skender.

‘Not enough clear space there either.’

‘So we just turn around and go back? Or give in?’ Marmion’s expression was grim. ‘I don’t think so.’

Chu thought for a moment as the many spires and towers of the city drifted by below. They looked very sharp.

‘I suppose we don’t need to land
as such,’
she said. ‘Tell the quartermaster that if he doesn’t want to see the heavy lifter damaged, he should meet us at the top of the armoury. We’ll be there shortly.’

‘What does this mean?’ asked Marmion.

‘No backing out now,’ she said, so softly only Skender could hear her, then, more loudly: ‘Have the ropes ready. We’ll be getting off soon.’

* * * *

Shilly hung on tightly as the gondola rattled around them. The sound of creaking wood and flapping canvas made it hard to talk, so she didn’t quite know what was going on. The spars and stays of the dirigible were sparkling as though wet with dew.
That
she understood. Someone was using the Change against them. By the way Sal’s hand tightened around hers, she could tell that he had noticed too.

Sal’s lips moved, and she leaned in closer to hear what he had said.

‘Welcome to Laure,’ he repeated into her ear. ‘Are they always this friendly?’

‘Wait until they come for the Blood Tithe,’ she said, showing him the small cut on her wrist. ‘They really know how to lay it on.’

The heavy lifter descended in fits and starts, approaching the hangar it had departed from. The attack eased off as they grew nearer. The meaning was obvious:
do as we want and we’ll give you less grief.

Marmion took a message to Abi van Haasteren then relayed a reply back to Chu, but Shilly couldn’t hear what was said. He also spoke to Banner, who began issuing orders among the other wardens.

‘Get ready,’ Banner said to Shilly and Sal. ‘We’re going to be using the rope ladders.’

‘Great.’ Her leg was still painful from the overexertion prior to their departure. The thought of having to go through all that again was an unhappy one. ‘This should be fun.’

Her jaw clicked painfully shut when the heavy lifter lurched upwards and to the right, sending wardens staggering and clutching for handholds. The gondola tilted at a sharp angle for at least ten seconds before levelling out. The glimmer of the Change immediately brightened and a renewed battering hit the hull.

‘Sorry about that!’ called Chu from the front, barely audible over the dirigible’s many complaints. ‘Just wanted to throw them off for a second. Now, get ready to move when I say so. We might not have long. And be careful! It’s a long way to fall.’

Shilly searched the buildings around them, wondering where they were headed. One stood out from the rest: a tall, blocky structure with what looked like ramps protruding from its summit. Several flyers swooping around it scattered as the heavy lifter approached.

‘Oh, no,’ she breathed, realising what Chu had in mind. The heavy lifter couldn’t land up there, but it could come close enough to allow people to disembark. Unless the turbulence kept up and Chu was unable to hold it completely steady ...

A shadow fell over them. The light turned brown. She had barely enough time to recognise the signs and cover her face before the sandstorm hit. The city’s weather-workers clearly had more in their arsenal than just air.

A barrage of choking and cursing filled the gondola. Shilly tried to peer out between slitted eyelids, but the onslaught was too intense. Stinging grains peppered her forehead and cheeks, reminding her of her dream of the buried shape in the dunes. She didn’t know how Chu was supposed to see, let alone pilot the heavy lifter in to dock.

‘Right!’ shouted Sal, standing. ‘This is something I can help with!’

‘Not too much,’ said Shilly, clutching his hand and keeping her face covered. ‘If we can’t see out, that means they can’t see in.’

He squeezed back to show that he understood. Through their touching skins, she felt him gather his concentration to form an image in his mind. It was a simple one, based on a charm every weather-worker knew: two pairs of parallel lines crossing to make an X. But he had altered it to suit their needs. The end of its delicate lines curved inward around the central area like the fingers of a clutching hand.

‘Better this way,’
she said through the Change, showing him a subtle variation that would work even more effectively.
‘Are you feeling up to it?

Instead of answering, he reached out to touch the world, and it instantly responded.

She felt a bubble open up around her. The sand and noise fell away, allowing her to breathe properly. Wiping grit from her eyelids, she blinked and looked around. She was standing in a sphere of clear air with Sal and Abi Van Haasteren’s left leg. Sal flexed again, and the bubble expanded. She saw its edges sweep outwards into the swirling sand. Where the bubble reached, the storm instantly dissipated.

A third push saw the bubble encompass the entire heavy lifter. With one last shower of sand, the air was clear. Cries of relief and confusion rose up out of the storm’s roar.

Shilly stood up to check the extent of the charm. Sal hadn’t killed the storm completely; he had simply formed a quiet patch at its heart. The wind still swirled around them, just outside the gondola. The sand hissed like a snake trying to get in, reminding her of something she had recently dreamed.

‘Let’s not sit here gawping!’ she shouted, feeling the effort it was taking to maintain the charm against the combined will of all the yadachi. Sal’s eyes were closed as he concentrated on maintaining the image in his mind. ‘We haven’t got all day!’

The wardens kicked into action, rolling up ropes and readying themselves for the next step. Everything was covered with sand, prompting more than a few sneezes. Shilly’s eyelids felt rough and raw.