The Stolen Child (30 page)

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Authors: Peter Brunton

Tags: #young adult, #crossover, #teen, #supernatural, #fantasy, #adventure, #steampunk, #urban, #horror, #female protagonist, #dark

BOOK: The Stolen Child
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This time, as looks of shock passed across every face in the room, Rachael pushed her chair back and leaped to her feet.

“Hold on.  Are you telling me this is the guy who sent those
bastards
to hunt me
down
, and now you want to go and have a sodding dinner party with him?  What the hell?”
s
he yelled, slapping her hands down on the table.  
Arsha flinched at the sudden outburst.
 

“Yes, that's exactly what I plan to do,” her father said.  “The last thing Manindra expects is for me to take him up on this.  And, right now, his home is just about the safest place we could be.  Manindra is the most dangerous man I have ever known, but he is possessed of a twisted sense of honour.  He would never allow any form of 'unsavoury' business to take place in his own home.  He will extend us every courtesy for
as
long as we are under his roof, and in turn I might learn a little about what he's really up to.  If we're going to stay ahead of this man, we're going to have to take some risks.  Believe me, I don't relish the thought of going back to that place, but it's our best plan right now.”

A shocked silence followed this announcement.  Rachael stood in stunned silence, eyes wide, fists clenched at her side.  Eventually Abasi cleared his throat.
 


Rishi, I don't suppose there is any chance we can dissuade you from this madness?”
 

Her father shook his head, determination etched on his face.
 

“I suppose I'd best set a course for Firecrest then,”
Abasi
said with a sigh.
 

Shaking her head, Milima got up and went to lift the squealing kettle from the stove.

 

As afternoon turned to evening, Ilona and Micah returned to the ship and another argument followed as they both tried to dissuade her father from accepting the councillor's invitation.  Abasi oversaw the loading of the last supplies and they finally cast off.

The days passed slowly.  To Arsha's surprise, Rachael began to pitch in on the chores, making light work of her punishment for sneaking out
.  In their free time, the girls
retreated
to Arsha's
room, or the loft over the cargo hold.  
Most of the time they spent chatting
, meaningless small-talk punctuated by questions about their strangely divided worlds.  Other times they simply sat together in silence, Rachael sketching whilst Arsha read.

After four days of this routine, Arsha found herself peering out of the porthole as the sun crested the horizon, looking out over a landscape she had never seen before.
 

Below the Triskelion
forests of green rolled out in every direction, brackish marsh waters glistening from beneath the canopy
.  Rising up from this verdant landscape were vast
mesas
, sheer sided and flat topped.  As she looked closer she began to spy clusters of buildings on each of the mesas they passed.  
L
ong
and
winding bridges connected them like islands.  The bridges seemed almost impossibly thin, supported by needle fine spires that
reached
down into the marshes below.  Soon she could make out large
r
towns and the smoke clouds that signalled steam trains passing along the bridges.

In the distance she spied their destination.  Easily the largest of the plateaus, it stood at the centre of a criss-crossing web of bridges, all of them descending into the sprawling city that covered the mesa from edge to edge.  Already she could feel the ship beginning to descend.
 

After a hurried shower Arsha
came
back to her room to pack her bag and almost
bumped
into Rachael as she stepped back out into the corridor.  
The girl had a bag slung across her shoulder.  They gave each other a nervous look.  Arsha was about to step into her room when she heard Rachael speak.
 

“So... I
spoke
to your dad...”

Arsha paused with
her
hand on the door, giving Rachael time to say whatever she was trying to say.

“Look, this... This adoption thing.  I told him it was OK.  I just thought you should know.”

Rachael paused for a moment, as if there was something more she meant to say.

“I'll see you upstairs,”
s
he said, eventually.  The girl turned and walked away, quickly disappearing up the stairs.

By the time Arsha had packed and joined the others up above
, Abasi was already bringing them alongside the pier.  
She found Rachael out on the deck, watching as the dock hands
tied the ropes off, and the
gangplank
was drawn over.  
Rachael seemed even more closed off than usual.  Arsha almost felt as if she had only imagined their brief conversation below the deck.
 

They made their way down from the docks
and
into the heart of the city.  
Clattering steam-wagons filled the roads, loaded with goods and passengers, belching out thick smoke that filled the air above them.  A wide central boulevard lead them down towards the train station, where they were met by a serious looking gentlemen dressed in finely tailored layers of red and gold silks.
 

“Professor Chandra?”
t
he man
said,
his tone sharp and precise.
 

“Yes, that's me,”
h
er father nodded.  The man gave a half-bow.

“Your carriage is this way, sir.”

Judging by her father's expression, Arsha suspected he wasn't at all surprised,
as the man lead them over a small footbridge towards a far platform where a single train car waited, hooked to a shining steel engine that was idling with a low hum
.  
The car itself gleamed with gold leaf and red lacquer, the sides lined with tall windows.  T
he man produced a key on a long silver chain and unlocked the door
for them
.

Inside was a long open space with a dining table in the centre and cluster of comfortable looking armchairs towards the front.  Heading towards the very back of the carriage, Arsha and Rachael settled themselves on one of the long couches, where they had a clear view from the window.  There was a heavy 'thump' as Micah dropped himself down onto the couch opposite them.  Arsha just caught the look of disapproval from her father, and from Ilona, as Micah pulled his feet up, put his head back and closed his eyes
.  
She wondered, silently, how he could be so relaxed, knowing where they were headed.  She could sense Rachael's nervousness as well, as the girl fiddled constantly with her backpack.  
The train began to shudder into motion and
i
t wasn't long before they were out of Firecrest, and the
re was only the vast
expanse of the forests and marshlands
beneath them.
 

Rachael's eyes were fixed on the window, staring out into the distance.  With little else to do, Arsha pulled a deck of cards from her bag and began to shuffle.
 


Hey look!”
 

Arsha leaned over, trying to see what had caught Rachael's attention.  They were riding over a wide, flat plateau that seemed to be devoid of any habitation.  Just endless open plains that stretched around the tracks on either side, a few herds of wild horses grazing here and there.
 


Look at what?” she said.
 


The horses, genius,” Rachael said, pointing.  Near to the carriage, one of the herds was on the move, galloping at full speed, the wind flicking their manes back.  Arsha made a face.
 


You're kidding me,” Rachael said, catching her expression.  “How can you not like horses?”
 

She shrugged.
 


I just don't.”
 


But look at 'em.  They're flipping beautiful.”
 


I dunno.  Micah tried to teach me to ride one time, and it was awful.  I fell off like a hundred times.  And they're big and grumpy and they smell awful.”
 

Rachael barely seemed to be listening any more.  The girl had turned away from the window, her eyes fixed on the dozing figure on the couch opposite.
 


Micah, you know to ride?”
 

Micah's eyes flickered open.
 


Hm?  Oh, yeah.  Sure I do.”
 


Serious?  How did you learn?”
 

Sitting up a little, Micah shrugged.
 


Just something I learned as a kid.  We had a bunch of horses on my family's estate.”
 

Rachael almost seemed to recoil at the words, as if they had a foul taste.
 


Estate?  For real.  Like, is your family loaded or something?”
 

Another shrug.
 


They're pretty well off, yeah.  Merchant banking mostly.”
 

Apparently deciding that she wasn't interested in hearing any more, Rachael turned to look out the window again, her eyes fixed on the distant herd, white streaks moving across the green fields.
 

Soon they were out over the marshes again, and then they began to make out the mesa that they were travelling towards.  Though smaller than Firecrest, it was still large, covered in fields and forests.  Nearer to they could make out
the walls of a sprawling complex that might have been one building or many.  
Below the light coloured walls of the estate, part of the cliff face seemed to have been gouged away and the space was occupied by a sprawl of buildings.  She saw crowded rows of houses deeper in, ranging down to larger warehouses at the edge of the cliff where the railway seemed to meet some kind of station, a broad platform that jutted out from the cliff itself.
 

The train began to slow as they pulled in to the station.  As the carriage came to a halt a pair of men in dark red uniforms approached.

“Come on, time to go,” Micah said.  With their luggage in hand, they
joined the others at the front of the train car, just as the door
opened.  
They were the last out, and as they gathered on the simple wooden platform Arsha could already see her father talking with a pair of uniformed men.
  Further back, she could see a pair of steam
carriages
, like the ones that had filled the streets of Firecrest.

Arsha and Rachael found themselves in the second carriage, along with Micah and Ilona.  Her father was joined by Abasi and Milima in the first carriage.  Through the glass, she could make out some sort of discussion taking place.
 

The
carriages
rattled into life, and began rolling through the warehouses, past what appeared to be workshops and other kinds of industrial buildings.

“Fates, have they turned this whole place into some kind of factory?” Ilona muttered.

“Refinery, more like,” Micah said.  “Saw some tracks carved into the cliff-face below.  They're probably carting stuff up from down there in the marshes.  Firecrest makes a lot of its money from the metal deposits down there.  But this operation all looks pretty new.  Most of these buildings were thrown together fast, and not too long ago.  Can't really say why the Bhandaris would be so eager to set up their mining operation on their doorstep though.”

“Deranged paranoia?  The delusions of an ageing control freak?” Ilona said, not hiding the bitterness in her tone.

Micah shrugged.


Maybe.  From what I hear it's the oldest son, Dayaram, that runs most of the family's business matters these days.  At least publicly.  Who knows how much of that is just his dad giving the orders though.”
 

“How do you know so much about this?”
Rachael
said.

“I did mention the part where I'm from a merchant-banker family, right?” Micah laughed.  “
It was pretty much our job to know what everyone's up to.

The
carriages
began to follow a winding switchback road up the cutting, towards the high walls of the estate above.  Below them the smoke and lights of the town began to look tiny.  Eventually they crested the bluff and found themselves on a long, straight avenue lined with tall poplar trees.

The walls of the estate were grand and imposing, with a pair of wrought iron gates that were set into a broad archway.  The gates swung open as they approached, and the carriages pulled to a halt in a wide open flagstone courtyard.  
Uniformed men opened the doors and gestured for them to step down.  
Long, covered passageways lead off in each direction, presumably connecting to other parts of the complex.  At the centre of the courtyard stood a pool of crystal clear water, surrounding a plinth
from which a marble statue looked down at them with a commanding gaze.  The figure was ancient, the features  worn away almost to nothing, but Arsha thought it looked vaguely feminine.
 

Approaching them was a tall,
gaunt figure, dressed in a familiar looking coat of red and gold.
  Leather boots clicked against the hard flagstones as the man walked.  At his waist hung a basket hilted blade in a
ruby encrusted
scabbard.  
The woman on his arm was almost as tall as he was, and she had a sharp, lean face, with piercing eyes, and hair that fell down over her shoulders in a wave of black curls
.  
Her sari was all the colours of a flame, brilliant silk and satin of red, yellow and orange surrounding her like a halo of fire.  Rubies glittered on the gold chain that ran from nose to ear.
 

“Professor Chandra.  Captain Bira.  Welcome to
our
home,”
the man announced as they approached, his voice much softer than his appearance had lead Arsha to expect.  Her father turned to face him with a cold expression.
 

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