The Devoured Earth (30 page)

Hadrian disagreed, of course. ‘That’s exactly why I think we should stay up here. We’re risking enough as it is. The closer we get to Yod, the more dangerous it’s going to be.’

‘You think we should return to the shore?’ Highson asked, peering over Pukje’s bony spine at the sight ahead of them.

‘I think there’s only so much we can learn out here,’ Hadrian said. ‘We need to find another way into the Tomb.’

‘But if it’s as quiet down there as it is up here,’ protested Seth, ‘we might be able to land on it.’

‘Do you really think that’s likely?’

‘Do you think
any
of this is likely?’

Highson waved them silent. ‘I agree with Seth,’ he said, ‘but not because you’re wrong, Hadrian. Because we’re desperate. I think we have to put our faith in Pukje to get us out of any trouble that might come our way. Does that sound reasonable?’

‘I’m in no hurry to die,’ the imp-dragon rumbled in agreement. ‘The moment anything so much as looks at us, we’ll be out of there.’

That went some way towards mollifying Hadrian, who until then had stubbornly refused to accept Seth’s opinion on anything. He had been like that all the way from shore. Something had changed since Highson’s announcement that the Homunculus might be able to give them separate bodies.

Or maybe it was just the thought of being close to the resting place of Ellis’s body. No matter that she was revered now as a Goddess. To both of them, she was still the woman they had loved.

The ankh will hide us
, Seth told his brother.
Don’t forget that
.

‘I suppose.’ Hadrian spoke aloud, giving in to the pressure from all sides.

‘All right,’ Highson said to Pukje. ‘Take us down to the top of the tower, as slowly as you like. I may be freezing to death out here, but that’s better than the alternative.’

‘At least it’d be quick,’ Seth said.

‘It would at that.’ Highson actually smiled.

Losing his memory seems to have done him a world of good
, said Hadrian with more than a hint of surliness.

Perhaps we should go back to the Old Ones ourselves
, Seth said.
There are a few moments I’d lose quite happily
.

Pukje angled his left wingtip and sent them on a broad spiral that would take them at least twice around the column of steam before reaching the top of the tower. Through the Homunculus’s night vision, Seth could dimly make out the surface of the column. Although it looked smooth from a distance, rising like the stem of a mushroom to the spreading pancake of cloud above, it was in fact roiling and tempestuous. He thought of a bath tap on full, but upside down, pouring the contents of the lake into the sky. How long it would take for the lake to boil dry he couldn’t guess.

‘What did the Old Ones tell you about saving the world?’ he asked Highson. ‘You mentioned something about that before but didn’t get a chance to tell us anything.’

‘Well, it’s a long story,’ said the warden. ‘Maybe now’s not the right time.’

‘I think we should keep our voices down,’ Pukje said.

‘Do you?’ asked Seth.

‘Yes. Just because we can’t see any danger doesn’t mean it’s not out there waiting.’ The big eyes glanced back at him. ‘Let’s not give it a reason to find us.’ Pukje flapped his wings once for emphasis.

Interesting
, said Seth.

Yes
, Hadrian agreed.
Pukje cut Highson off last time too. Do you think he’s trying to hide something
?

I think Pukje’s always hiding something.

Something about us?

Undoubtedly. He thinks we’re going to help him get rid of Yod
—
otherwise why would we be here
?

Not for decoration, that’s for sure.

Seth simmered in silence as Pukje glided down the outside of the rising column of steam. If Pukje didn’t want them to talk, there wasn’t much they could do about it just then. But later there would come an opportunity. He would make sure of it.

Not far now, little brother
, he whispered.
The end is almost here
.

He felt Hadrian shift inside the Homunculus’s body. Their strange, overlapping head flexed,
stretched
, and it seemed for a moment as though they were looking eye to eye. Hadrian’s face, the same as Seth’s but reversed, stared back at him with an agonised, anguished expression, older and more haggard than they had ever been.

Then it faded back to black. The Homunculus returned to its usual shape. Seth felt the essence of his brother — his soul, his being, his
self
— slip into the same space he occupied. It was like shrugging on an old overcoat, worn but not entirely uncomfortable.

A strange sensation rippled through him. He felt like a pond someone had dropped a pebble into.

‘What was that?’ asked Hadrian.

‘Did you feel it too?’ Highson responded.

‘Both of us did,’ Seth said. ‘Was that through the Change?’

‘Yes. I think someone’s watching us.’

‘Who? Where?’ Hadrian craned the Homunculus’s neck for a closer look at the black sky.

‘I don’t know, but I suspect we’ll find out soon.’

Pukje angled his wings to increase their rate of descent. Chill air rippled past them, fluttering Highson’s robes like a sail.

‘If we can feel the Change,’ Hadrian said to Highson, ‘does that mean we could learn to use it, one day?’

‘Maybe.’ The warden studied them with a curious expression. ‘It would be an interesting experiment.’

Seth didn’t like the thought of being a laboratory rat. ‘We didn’t have the Change in our world. We remembered it in stories about magic and wizards, but it hadn’t worked since the last Cataclysm, when the realms were separated. The moment I died and the new Cataclysm started to bite, magic started working again.’ He had clear memories of Hadrian killing the draci that had inhabited Ellis’s body and tried to suck the life out of him — memories that provoked a shudder every time they surfaced. ‘There was so much loose potential around that tapping into it was easy. All you had to do was reach out and take it. This world since then has had time to settle, to find its own rhythms. The potential is all bound up in special places: stone, fire, trees, fog, blood, Ruins, and so on. We have no idea how to tap into those sources.’

‘Sal could probably show you,’ Highson said.

‘Why Sal?’ asked Hadrian.

‘Because he’s a wild talent.’

‘We tried to tell him that he was special,’ said Seth. ‘He could hear Upuaut when no one else could. He disagreed, though.’

‘He would. He doesn’t like being the odd one out.’ Highson frowned. ‘But he is. He’s tapping into something deeper than the rest of us. Not necessarily more powerful. Just…
different
.’

The odd sensation swept through them again.

Like a sonar ping
, said Hadrian.

That was an interesting analogy. Seth considered it while he studied the roiling exterior of the cloud column. A signal propagated through the Change would bounce off — what? Anything possessing the Change? But that could be a lot of things. Someone
using
the Change, then?

The ping came a third time, then a fourth. The gaps between them were decreasing. That made Seth even more nervous than he had been. They weren’t just being watched, but
targeted
.

What was that you said about the ankh, Seth?

A silver shape shot out of the clouds like a bullet. Three more followed it, then another two. Hadrian pointed, but Pukje had already seen them. His broad wings narrowed and swept back. Seth’s stomach rose to his throat.

‘What are they?’ he cried over the rising wind.

‘Devels,’ Pukje rumbled.

‘Are they the same things that attacked the balloon?’ asked Highson.

Seth peered up and behind for a better look at the creatures. These were child-sized with thin, rippling wings and needle-sharp proboscis. Their colouring reminded him of the Vaimnamne, the barrel-like steeds of the Second Realm. They glided in a fashion reminiscent of swallows, but when their wings flexed, eye-wateringly fast, they strained like bat wings, not the feathered variety.

‘No,’ he said in answer to Highson’s question, ‘those couldn’t fly.’

‘Perhaps these don’t mean us any harm.’

‘Wishful thinking, I suspect.’

As though the silver swallows could hear him, the flock banked sharply and emitted a flurry of rippling Change-pings. Seth tensed, feeling Pukje’s muscles, bunch in readiness. When the flock dropped their noses and dived, Pukje did the same.

Suddenly, they were hurtling towards the sea. The wind whipped Highson’s cry of alarm away, unheard. Seth clung to Pukje’s broad back as the wind tore at him. The top of Tower Aleph swept by, and still Pukje dived. The surface of the lake bloomed before them with terrifying swiftness, going from smooth black to roiling waves and a forest of life-sucking tentacles in a matter of seconds.

Highson’s eyes were tightly shut, and would have been blinded by the screaming wind had they been open. More silver swallows had joined the first flock, diving like arrows after Pukje and his passengers. Seth wondered if the imp-dragon would be able to pull up before they hit. He couldn’t decide which would be worse: the crushing impact with the lake’s surface, having his will sucked away by Yod’s black tentacles, or being impaled on the swallows’ wicked beaks.

With a sinew-stretching effort, Pukje began to angle out of the dive. His wings shook and muscles strained. Highson and the twins endured a fierce battering on the imp-dragon’s back. Seth closed his eyes too as the lake rose up before them. A foul-smelling mist greeted his nostrils, kicked up by the waves. He imagined black tentacles snatching at him like the cilia of sea anemone. Pukje tipped violently from side to side. His wings clapped like thunder. When Seth opened his eyes again they were flying low and fast across the lake, heading for the shore.

Uttering a series of piercing shrieks, the swallows followed.

‘Not now!’ they heard Highson yell. ‘Your timing couldn’t be worse!’ Talking to one of his fellow wardens, Seth presumed. He agreed totally with the sentiment.

Pukje banked and dodged as the swallows grew closer. On the flat they had the advantage. Darting and weaving like deadly dolphins, they were coming inexorably closer. Their forward-thrust spikes now looked more like horns than beaks or noses. They tapered to points sharp enough to skewer an ice cube.

Egrigor
, said Hadrian, awkwardly shifting position inside the Homunculus.
That’s our only chance
.

I don’t know
. Seth didn’t like egrigor. Twice Hadrian had used them and twice almost killed him.

Those things are going to be hard to hit, and every miss is a piece of us gone.

I’m not thinking of shooting them.

What then? Sending them flowers?

Hadrian didn’t waste time responding. He was facing almost directly backwards, leaving Seth to the tricky job of holding on. For a moment, Hadrian did nothing at all. Seth could feel his brother concentrating. One hand came up to point backwards with fingers spread wide.

A silver swallow darted closer, wings flexing and snapping like rubber sails. It didn’t seem to have any mouth, or eyes, nose, ears, or any other recognisable feature. Just the spike.

Hadrian’s concentration peaked as the devel lunged. Pukje dipped and swung to the left. The tip of the spike passed over Seth’s head with an audible hiss. Seth experienced the unforgettable sensation of part of himself disappearing — like a wisdom tooth being pulled, leaving a void behind — as a fine sparkling spray of filaments blossomed from Hadrian’s hand. The swallow shrieked in alarm and fell away with red lines lacing its blank features and tangling its sinuous wings.

Another darted closer. Hadrian sent another razor-wire net to greet it. That only sent the others into a fury, like sharks in a feeding frenzy. Their symphony of shrieks reached a new height, so loud it was almost physically painful. Hadrian fired two more nets into the vicious flock. Each one cost Seth more than he cared to think about.

It’s not enough
, he told his brother.
The shore’s too far away. We’re not going to make it
.

A rain of hail came between Pukje and the swallows, accompanied by a surge in the Change. Highson had joined the fight, using his knowledge of air and water to bring a fall of ice from the clouds above. Each stone was as large as a tennis ball, and jagged with it. The swallows flinched and fell back under the heavy pummelling, their flanks scored and bruised. One lost the tip of its lethal spike and dropped away, spinning out of control into the writhing black sea below.

Still not enough
. Seth could feel Highson flagging.
It can’t end like this. It can’t
!

Then a stroke of lightning lit the sky behind them, shooting out of Tower Aleph and up the inside of the column of steam. Energy spread in waves across the cloud ceiling above them, reflecting off the silver skin of their pursuers. Pukje shuddered beneath them, as though gripped by a sudden weakness, then steadied. Seth looked forward in concern, but the imp-dragon gave no reason for the interruption. When he looked back, the silver swallows had fallen back. They disappeared a moment later into the darkness.

‘What happened?’ he shouted over the wind. ‘What scared them away?’

The hail-fall petered out into normal weather. ‘Nothing I did,’ said Highson, looking as cautiously relieved as Seth felt.

‘It wasn’t,’ rumbled Pukje. ‘The devels’ role is to protect the Tomb. We’re far enough away now to appear less of a threat — especially when someone or something else might be attempting to get there another way.’

‘How did you know about that?’ asked Highson, startled. ‘That was Marmion who called before. The Ice Eaters are on their way.’

‘I didn’t know. I just guessed,’ the imp-dragon admitted. ‘The pyrotechnics gave it away. The Tomb isn’t a static, inert thing, you see. It retains the potential for the Flame and has links to the Third Realm. The colours we’re seeing in the clouds reflect what’s happening inside: orange for Gabra’il; green for the Holy Immortals. White is the flame. Something potent is happening or about to happen. It’s letting off steam.’