The Frost Child (15 page)

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"I can't believe that the Resisters would turn on us Raggies like this," Wesley said angrily.

"Do not be too hard on them," Dr. Diamond said gently. "There is a deadly enemy at their door, and they are scared. Blame whatever clever mind brought this about, and forgive them."

Wesley's look was anything but forgiving. Cati jumped up.

"We need to find that evidence!" she said. Without looking around to see whether the others were following, she dashed out.

"I'll go with her," Wesley said.

Silkie got up and followed him out, but just as she got to the door, she looked at Owen. "You have to do something for them two boys," she said.

"Silkie expects a lot of you," the doctor remarked when she was gone.
As do many people
, he thought. He turned to Owen. "Now, Navigator, I can tell from the look on your face that you have a tale to tell."

"I found something," Owen said, "but I'm not sure what it means." He told Dr. Diamond about the tapestry and the recorder.

"A circletagram!" the doctor exclaimed in delight. "I haven't seen one of those in years."

"What does the message mean?"

"Obviously someone thought of it as being important. I wonder who it was. The fact that the notebook and circletagram were left behind suggests that they were disturbed. The reference to the boy ..."

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"Could they be talking about the Navigator--I mean me?"

"I don't know. Possibly. And what has the Long Woman got to do with it? I have to confess, I know little of her history. I have to think about these things. It doesn't really tell us what to do."

I think it tells me what I have to do
, Owen thought, but he kept it to himself. The thought was only half formed. Besides, there was a chance that his friends would try to stop him.

Dr. Diamond went to the window and looked out at the Harsh ships in the distance.

"What are they waiting for?" he mused. "One attack and then silence."

"I don't know," Owen said, "and that makes me afraid."

"We'll meet again," Dr. Diamond said, "after Samual's attack tomorrow."

Owen nodded. Neither of them knew there was going to be no attack on the following day.

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Chapter 16

It was very quiet along the river. Even those small animals who hunted by night were forced by the intense cold to stay in their dens. No one was watching the Hadima entrance, and no one saw the Albions swarm from it, so numerous they were like smoke flowing downward onto the ice, for they were all dressed entirely in white to disguise them against the snow. With Agnetha at their head they moved swiftly up the river, gathering in the very shadow of the Workhouse defenses.

Agnetha pointed toward two large trees, whose shadow fell across the river ice. She knew that this area was not as well watched as the others, and it led only to the strong base of the Workhouse. In twos and threes the Albions flitted across the ice and disappeared into the shadow of the trees.

When they had all crossed they followed Agnetha to the base of the wall. She looked up and saw the Resister banner far above, hanging limply in the cold night air, and she bared her teeth and made a hissing sound. Then she made her way along the wall until she found what she was looking for.

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The little ironbound door had been there so long that it had been forgotten about. If Agnetha had known or cared, the last person to use it was the person who had studied the tapestry that Owen had seen earlier. And that person had been careful to lock it and drop the key through the little barred window, so that it fell onto the floor.

The key had lain there for many years until that day, when a human hand had lifted it from the stone floor, inserted it, and gently turned it....

Agnetha tried the door. It was old and stiff, but it was unlocked. She stood back as the others streamed in. With a swift look around in the moonlight, Agnetha followed them. The Albions were in the Workhouse.

Once inside they separated into teams, each with a mission. They ran lightly along the unpeopled corridors, deep in the bowels of the Workhouse. They ran through the hall where Owen had studied the tapestry earlier that day. They passed the door of the bakery, where men and women worked to make bread for the following day. They reached the base of the staircase. Agnetha nodded. Each team went its way.

Silkie had taken to sleeping on board the
Wayfarer
. The little beds were comfortable, and she felt that Owen didn't pay enough attention to the boat.

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If he won't look after it, then someone better
, she thought.

There was a gentle scratching noise on deck, and at first she thought there was a mouse on board. She rolled over, but the scratching continued. She thought she had better see what it was, before the thing ate a hole in her new woodwork.

Wrapping a blanket around her, she sat up and padded barefoot to the hatch. She'd carefully waxed the hatch slides with fresh beeswax from Contessa, and it opened without a sound. Silkie reached for the edge, then froze. Someone was on the deck!

Holding her breath, she stared, trying to penetrate the dark. There were definitely two figures standing at the wheel and looking down at something.
The Mortmain!
she thought. Owen had taken his grandfather's maps to the Den, but he had left the Mortmain.

She was lying across the half-open hatch, and she could feel the living wood of the
Wayfarer
under her. It was almost as if the vessel itself had tensed, knowing that there was something wrong. One of the standing figures straightened and she saw a blade glint. The figure bent forward again.
They're trying to cut the Mortmain out of its setting!
She didn't understand how she could have known this, unless somehow the
Wayfarer
itself had communicated with her. She looked around wildly for a weapon. If she didn't act, they would get away with it. But there was nothing, unless ...

She pressed her face to the deck, words going through

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her head over and over again, whispering to the
Wayfarer
, wondering if somehow the boat would
feel
what she wanted it to do. She could hear splintering sounds coming from the deck now.

Please
, she thought. And then it began to happen.

Imperceptibly at first, the
Wayfarer
began to rise in the air. It moved so gently that whoever was on deck was unaware of what was happening, intent as they were on the Mortmain. Then she had another idea. She slipped back down into the cabin.

Up and up the
Wayfarer
went, and still the two at the helm had not noticed. Then there was a muted cry of triumph and one of the Albions held the Mortmain aloft. The cry was followed by a wail of dismay as the Albions realized that they were high in the air.

Silkie, wearing one of the chain-mail suits, slipped out of the hatch while they were distracted. She crept up behind them and grabbed the Mortmain out of the Albion's outstretched hand.

"I'll have that!"

The Albion wheeled with a squeal of rage. Silkie recoiled. She had never seen an Albion before, and its pale skin and pink eyes looked like something from a nightmare. She fell backward, and before she could move, a knife flashed.

She felt the knife strike the mail just below her heart, a blow like a sharp punch, driving the air from her lungs, but not penetrating. She squirmed out of the way as the knife fell again, and scrambled backward up the deck. As

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the other Albion moved round the stern to attack from the other side, he suddenly pitched over the edge and was gone--Silkie could have sworn that the tiller had moved and had caught him behind the knees, but perhaps he had just tripped.

She didn't have time to think about it. The second Albion was advancing on her, slashing at her face. Round the deck they went, Silkie getting more and more tired. The Albion slashed and struck home. She put her hand up to her face and it was wet with blood, although she had felt nothing. The Albion was grinning. She could see his lips stretched over sharp teeth and bright red gums. She slipped again and this time he stood above her.

Throw it
, a voice inside her head said.
The Mortmain-- throw it!

Without thinking she threw the Mortmain with all her strength. It flew past the Albion, who cried out and dived after it. He almost caught it, but his knee struck the rail. He toppled and fell. But Silkie's eyes were on the Mortmain. As it flew through the air it flashed and shone, and then started to describe a curve in the air. It was flying back toward her! She raised her hand and the Mortmain landed with a gentle thud in her palm. She fell back against the hatch and patted the deck beside her. She peered over the edge. Far below she could see the Albion. He had crashed through the ice on top of one of the Workhouse water tanks, and was trying to get out of the freezing water.

"I don't know what's going on," she said out loud,

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"but I think you and me better stay up here." Her face burned where it had been cut. She gave the
Wayfarer
another gentle pat and fainted.

Meanwhile, Dr. Diamond was involved in another struggle, and it wasn't going well. He had awoken to the sound of crashing. Leaping out of bed, he ran toward the Skyward. It was full of Albions, who were busy pouring chemicals onto the floor and smashing everything they could lay their hands on. Grabbing a brush in his good arm, the doctor had run into the middle of them. Such was the fury of his attack that they fell back. But soon they realized that they had nothing to fear from a man who wore flannel pajamas with the sun, moon, and stars on them and who carried only a brush for a weapon. They pressed forward.

Dr. Diamond found himself pinned in between two filing cabinets. He managed to keep the Albions at bay with the brush, but the end of the wooden handle was hacked with many knife cuts and was starting to splinter. It must be a strange sight, he thought, the pajama-clad, one-armed man struggling with the Albions in white, moonlight illuminating the ruined lab.

Illumination! Of course!
The Albions couldn't stand light. But he couldn't reach any of the switches. He looked up to see that the light fittings had been torn from the ceiling in any event.

The door opened. Rosie!

"Go back, Rosie!" he shouted.

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"No way, Doc!" she yelled, fumbling in her hair for a pin. The Albions turned away from the doctor, thinking that the little girl was an easier target, but two of them fell back at once, nursing arms pricked by Rosie's long hairpin.

"Never mind the pin, then. Get on top of the cupboard--the big one!" the doctor cried.

"Not Rosie. She doesn't run from trouble."

"It's not running--it's a plan. Go on, quick!"

With a dubious look at the professor, Rosie jumped onto the sink, and then to the top of the biggest cupboard in the room. The Albions howled at her.

"Shut up," she snapped at them. "Doc, there's hardly room up here for me with all these jars."

"That's the idea. Find sulfate of zilphandium."

Rosie went through the labels of the tall jars stacked on top of the cupboard.

"Got it!" She held up a brown jar.

"Throw it onto the floor."

Rosie threw the jar down. The Albions jeered as it shattered without hitting any of them.

"Now, nectar of polvphanate."

Rosie repeated the process. The yellow polvphanate mixed with the zilphandium. An awful stench rose from the floor.

"Cor, Doc, it don't half pong," Rosie said.

"Quick," the doctor said desperately. The brush handle was getting shorter and shorter. "Throw the xerros oxide into the middle!"

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"Stungart phosphate, no ... dobocybin ...," Rosie murmured.

"Rosie," the doctor shouted, sharp blades flashing in front of his face.

"Xerros oxide. Here we go." Rosie tossed another brown jar onto the floor. It struck the other two compounds. The effect was instant. The room was bathed in a burning silver light that made Rosie flinch and put her hands over her eyes. The Albions wailed in pain and terror. The light died away, then pulsed even stronger.

"Blimey," Rosie said. The Albions, blinded, fought with each other to get to the door. The light died and pulsed, died and pulsed again. Screeching, the Albions jostled each other on the winding stair leading down the Nab from the Skyward. It got worse when they got to the bottom. Pieta was leaning casually against the side of the Nab, her magno whip uncoiled in her hand.

"Well," she said, "what do we have here? A bunch of little night rats, by the look of it." The end of the whip licked the air.

The Albions that Contessa and Rutgar discovered in the kitchen fled without putting up a fight. Samual and his men found a group trying to get into the rooftop storehouse where the doctor had put the Porcupine, and drove them off without too much trouble. Martha came across two of them trying to take down the Resister banner, and chased them with the help of some Raggies who had been woken by the commotion. Martha ran to check