The Frost Child (31 page)

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Chapter 31

The two Specials guarding the Hadima entrance gazed anxiously toward the battlefield. They hadn't noticed the spluttering mechanical noise behind them until it was too late. A battered truck burst through the Hadima entrance, with people clinging to every surface. They were small and sharp-eyed like Rosie and wore velvet jackets and rakish-looking hats. They carried a variety of hooks and cudgels and other homemade weapons. Behind them came a mass of Dogs--street children wearing dog masks, some of whom had taken on the characteristics of real dogs. The Specials fled in terror.

On the battlefield Cati had taken a blow to the head, and a Special had run a knife along her ribs. She had gone down once but the Raggies behind her had picked up rocks and pelted the Specials until she got back on her feet. She barely had time to glance at the collapsing Harsh cathedral before the Specials renewed their assault.

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They were hardened thugs and not likely to be easily put off.

Elsewhere in the Workhouse, a blood-drenched Rutgar and a handful of men fought to stop the invaders getting into the Starry. A gang of Albions had started to loot, carrying away what they could and piling it up outside. They had pinned Contessa behind the great ovens in the kitchen, and she fought back with two large and sharp kitchen knives.

One of the Specials threw his cudgel at Cati. It hit her under the eye and she went down again, half blind with pain and blood. They were on her in a flash. One grabbed her hair and exposed her throat. A knife gleamed. Then he stopped, looking up in confusion.

Over their heads hovered a long black ship. The
Faltaine!
Lines fell from her sides, and a crew of villainous-looking men and women brandishing magno flintlocks and muskets and scimitars slid to the ground. A young man with a luxuriant mustache and a steel post in place of a left leg confronted the Special who held Cati's head.

"Doesn't look like fair odds to me, matey," he growled. Faster than lightning, he whirled and the steel leg flew through the air, striking the Special's temple. As his shipmates put the rest of them to flight, he helped Cati to her feet.

"Midshipman Dardanelle Smith from the
Faltaine
at your service, ma'am." He saluted.

There was a mighty commotion from the Workhouse,

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and a crowd of squealing Albions ran out. Behind them came Pieta and her two children. The children carried swishing magno whips, but Pieta at first seemed to have nothing in her hand--that is, until a Special dropped a huge rock on them from a window above.

"Look out!" Cati yelled. Pieta looked up. Her right hand flashed, and the rock fell in pebbles around them. Cati could now see the metallic claw attached in place of her severed hand.

"Based it on the Yeati's claw," a disheveled Dr. Diamond said, staggering through the entrance. "I gave her an anesthetic to do it after you left. ..."

"And forgot to wake me up!" Pieta gave Dr. Diamond a baleful look. "No time for talk. Fight."

The Albions regrouped with Agnetha at their head as a body of Specials ran up from the river. The friends were pressed back against the Workhouse wall. The magno whips flashed again and again, and Pieta's claw carved the air, but the weight of those behind pushed the front attackers forward. The pirates had joined the Resisters but were distracted by fire from two of the remaining Q-cars, which had struck the
Faltaine
amidships with ice cannon. The pirates had climbed back into the ship and moved off to deal with the Q-cars.

"It's too much," Cati gasped.

"I don't think so," Dr. Diamond said. "Look!"

In the east the sun was rising. Not just the dull red sun of past weeks, but a glorious ball of light, as if to celebrate winter's end. The Albions wailed and covered their

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eyes. They had been confident of victory during the night and had no dark glasses. They ran blindly toward the Hadima entrance. Only Agnetha stayed. Her eyes almost closed, flinching from the touch of the sun on her skin, she brandished her long, poisoned knife at Cati. Pieta raised her claw.

"No!" Cati exclaimed. She found herself feeling sorry for this deadly, beautiful creature, condemned to live in darkness.

"Put the knife down and go home," Cati said. "You don't belong here." Agnetha held her gaze, though she winced at the sunlight.

"We long for light," she said, "always. Always."

"Don't turn your back on her." A mocking voice spoke from above their heads. "She'll stab you as soon as look at you. Treacherous like a snake, them Albions."

Johnston leaned on the parapet above them.

"You lie," Agnetha spat. "You and Harsh say we will feel sun on skin."

"The dark's where you belong," Johnston said, showing his teeth. "Go back under your stone, you pink-eyed witch."

With a flick Agnetha's knife left her hand. Cati gasped. Johnston's hands went to his throat, where the knife lodged, quivering. Something fell from his hand and the doctor dived to catch it as Johnston toppled over the parapet and landed on his back with a thud, eyes open, great teeth bared in a lifeless grimace. Once more Pieta lunged to attack Agnetha, but the doctor stopped her.

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He held up the object that had fallen from Johnston's grasp.

"A magno grenade. Primed. It would have killed all of us if it had hit the ground." Very carefully, he removed its fuse.

The sun cleared the horizon and Agnetha hissed, then turned and ran. No one tried to stop her.

"I smell something," Cati said, raising her face to the air. "Dogs. The Dogs of Hadima!" And indeed they could hear barking coming from the river, and the squeals of the Albions intermingled with the curses of the fleeing Specials.

"Pieta," Dr. Diamond said, "take your children and clear the Workhouse of the enemy."

"Land ahoy," they heard from above as the
Wayfarer
, with Silkie and Owen on board, skidded to a halt beside them. Wesley ran to Silkie and embraced her.

"Here's me thinking something happened to you ..."

"Nothing except a lot of adventures! I went to find our friends, and get help. The Dogs and the Hadima folk are chasing the Specials and the Albions back into the tunnel. We could see them from the boat."

Owen got out of the
Wayfarer
, looking groggy.

"Silkie," Dr. Diamond spoke urgently, "get the buccaneer ship. You can carry water from the harbor to help put out the flames. Wesley, round up the Raggies and whoever else you can--find Rutgar. Now where is Cati?"

They found her kneeling beside the fallen Samual. Gently she closed his eyes and folded his hands across his breast.

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"He fought beside me to protect the Raggie children. He fell because of us," she said in a small voice.

"He was proud and difficult," the doctor said, "but also brave and faithful. Do not cry too much for him, Cati. He would have thought of this as--"

"His duty. I know," Cati interrupted. The snow had been disturbed beside Samual's head, and Cati rubbed it with her hand until she could see grass--and something growing. She plucked a blue flower from the ground--a cornflower, the Resisters' symbol of remembering--and threaded it carefully through Samual's buttonhole. From the direction of the river, they heard a trickle of water.

"I do believe the thaw is on its way." The doctor smiled.

For the rest of the morning they fought the flames, Rut-gar and Martha directing teams of firefighters while the
Faltaine
and the buccaneers carried water from the sea. By lunchtime they had it under control. They had managed to keep the flames away from the kitchen and the Starry, although a large part of the sleeping quarters had been destroyed.

The Dogs and the Hadima people roamed up and down the river chasing anything that moved back into the Hadima tunnel. Under the Harsh ships, the ice was melting with sharp cracks and dull booms, and the ice castles had collapsed.

Dr. Diamond took Owen back to the Den and insisted he lie on the sofa while the doctor made tea. Owen told

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the doctor about the Memorator, and Dr. Diamond examined it with great interest. But Owen was fatigued and listless, and the doctor was worried.

"You have defeated the Harsh forever, you know," he reminded Owen, but the boy's mind was on other things.

"My father. He was so pale, and in pain," Owen muttered.

Dr. Diamond shook his head.

"Do you mind if I take the Memorator back to the Skyward?" Dr. Diamond asked.

"If you want." Owen closed his eyes.

Back at the Workhouse, Cati sat on a piece of masonry. There was ash in her hair, and her face and clothing stank of wet, burned timber. She was exhausted, but still she leapt to her feet when she heard the pattering of feet. Clancy, the leader of the Dogs, loped across to her, followed by the other Dogs. They rubbed noses.

Rosie had spent the whole morning on board the
Faltaine
with Dardanelle Smith, the two of them generally getting in the way. But when she saw the Dogs and the hats of the Hadima folk, she asked to be put back on the ground.

"Ahoy, lubbers," she shouted, her hat askew, then shrieked in delight. "Graham! Graham!"

Her brother waved back from the ground. She tumbled head over heels over the thwart of the
Faltaine
and threw her arms around him.

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"Where did you come from?"

"Silkie flew the
Wayfarer
to Hadima and told us that the Navigator needed help. We took the old road in that truck that was left behind the last time Owen was in Hadima. Silkie flew ahead and guided us."

"And us buccaneers met the
Wayfarer
on the way there." The woman who had freed Owen on board the
Faltaine
leaned on the rail, now wearing a captain's hat and grinning with her sharp teeth. "We was game for a fight."

They milled around happily in front of the Workhouse, but Contessa watched them with sadness in her eyes. "The Workhouse is almost destroyed and the world is in ruins."

"Yes," Martha said, "but look at them. They are young and the future is theirs."

When it seemed that the last enemy was gone and the Hadima entrance was secured, the friends walked to the harbor. Owen and Cati followed Silkie and Wesley, eager to see if their warehouse had been spared. They were silent as they walked through the ruined town, and stood for a long time on the shore watching the rotten Harsh hulks, which had started to sink into the melting ice. When they got to the warehouse, they found Albion graffiti scrawled on the outside doors and walls. But the inside was dry and untouched, although cold. Wesley and Silkie were delighted, and they ran about making fires from stored driftwood. Cati and Owen went outside. He

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waited for her to interrogate him about everything, but she was quiet for a long time.

At last she said, "The Harsh have gone."

"I remember the first time I met your father," Owen said. "We heard the Harsh cry, and he said, 'It has begun.'"

"Now it is over," she said. She had turned her head away, but he could see the tears on her cheeks.

"Yes, it is over."

"It is over," another voice said. They turned to see Dr. Diamond coming up behind them. "But a new era has begun. Tonight we will bury our dead. Tomorrow we begin again."

Samual's redcoats had cut down trees and built a funeral pyre for him. When the time came they lit the pyre. As the flames leapt high, the Resisters sang a fighting song for their lost leader, but Cati and Pieta turned their faces aside and would not watch.

Late that night, as Owen lay awake in the Den, he heard Dr. Diamond calling from outside. He looked round the door. "I brought you back your Memorater," the doctor said.

"Thanks," Owen said. But he thought,
Couldn't this have waited until the morning?

"I found something on it," the doctor said. "I think your grandfather must have intended it for your dad, and your dad recorded over it when he had to without ever having seen it. It's a kind of a ghost image, and you mustn't disturb it, but I thought you'd like it."

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Dr. Diamond breathed on the mirror. An image appeared in the room. It was his grandfather's room, the same room he had seen in the Memorater at the Long Woman's house. The image was crackly and grainy. Sometimes it stuttered and went from color to black and white. His grandfather stood in the middle of the room. He looked troubled, and peered toward Owen.

"Are you there, Owen?"

"Yes," Owen said, "yes, I am."

"I wanted to say something.... You know I haven't been the best of fathers. I've been running about all over time, chasing ... chasing shadows, if truth be told."

Owen realized that he thought that he was talking to his son, not his grandson.

"You wanted to save the world from the Harsh," Owen said.

"Was that what I was doing?" The old man looked thoughtful. "Maybe I was, and maybe I was a selfish old goat who needed saving from himself. But it's generous of you to say it."

"I was angry," Owen said.

"You have every right to be. Fathers have their own sorrows, but they shouldn't let their sons carry them. Can you forgive me?"

"I forgive you," Owen said. And then, before he could stop himself, "I miss you."

"I miss you too, Owen. But that's all right. Be something wrong if we didn't." The scene flickered and stretched.

"Those damn cheap alternators again. If there is one