The Unmaking (21 page)

“Is there rope in the helicopter?” she asked him breathlessly.

“Rope?”

“Yes! Rope! What’s the matter with you?”

This seemed to shake him out of his reverie.

“What’s the matter with
you
, running around like that? We dinnay know who did this, what’s going on. We should be getting out of here, not checking the place out.”

Nell did not say the thing that was darting through her mind like poison, the sickening thought she could not catch and still –
My friend might be in there.
She said, “There’s a dragon trapped by the house. I think it’s a baby, aye. If we can pull off some of the roof beams it should be able to get free.”

Ander squinted at the burning mass. “There’s rope in the lifeboat,” he said.

Nell looked at the compact little helicopter in surprise. “What lifeboat?”

Ander opened the pilot’s door and pulled a big tarpaulin square out from under the seat. This he let fall into the marsh. It was still linked to the helicopter by a thin rope, which he yanked. The tarpaulin square began to unfold and then inflate until a round rubber dinghy lay before them. He opened a flap in the dinghy and pulled out a bag of supplies. There was a knife, a flare gun, water-resistant matches, a tarpaulin for shade, whistles and a coil of sturdy rope.

“We need to tie this around the main supporting beam that’s right across the dragon’s
back. Pulling that one aside should roll the others off, aye, and the dragon should be able to move,” said Nell.

Ander glanced at the burning heap again. “Those are bones?” he exclaimed. “Lah, I hate to say it, my girl, but I’m just a policeman and I dinnay have superhuman strength. I’m nay going to be able to pull one of those off.”

Nell rolled her eyes at him in exasperation and he said, “Oh, aye.”

She set about tying one end of the rope firmly to the skids of the chopper while Ander started it up.

The helicopter rising into the air and settling very close by, agitated the poor trapped dragon terribly. It belched out smoke and fire and twisted its neck about in vain. Nell took the other end of the rope and raced in among the flames. The heat on her skin was scorching but she managed to climb up on the mound of bone and mud without actually touching any of the flames and fixed the rope around the largest of the roof beams. She ran back a safe distance and waved her arms at Ander. Her face felt hot and dry and she examined her clothes anxiously for any green fire but found none. Ander took the chopper slowly upwards. The mound of burning house began to shift. The great roof beam, perhaps the thighbone of a very large dragon, came loose and was pulled into the air by the helicopter. The other bones tilted and tumbled away. Nell had expected the trapped dragon to immediately take off, but it was slow to move. When the weight pinning it was lifted, it thrashed about a bit before dragging itself away from the burning rubble, then collapsed again. Nell approached cautiously, still keeping a safe distance from its head. The poor thing was covered in little pools of green fire and one of its wings was nearly torn from its body. Its leg, too, was badly broken. The creature was clearly in pain and very angry.

Nell circled the heap of burning rubble, more spread out now that the roof beams had rolled to the base of the mound. She took up a long yellowed tooth, half her own height, that had been part of the fence. She poked at the heap of flaming mud and scale with the tooth, but she knew she would not be able to properly excavate it. She saw a battered cauldron, half-melted, and bits of weapons. Swarn had not had a great many possessions. There were no signs, at least, that anyone had been inside. Alarm followed fast on the first rush of relief. There was no way to find them, now. Without them, there was no way to get back to Di Shang, unless they began to offer up memories or hopes or other parts of themselves that, she knew from experience, were too precious to part with. She looked at the dragon again. It lay in the marsh and clawed at the mud. Ander had landed and was untying the huge bone from the helicopter.

“Lah, we’re done!” he shouted. “Let’s get out of here!”

“We have to help it,” she said, joining him by the helicopter.

“Only way I can think of is shooting the poor creature in the head,” said Ander. “Though a gun wouldnay be much use against a dragon, come to think of it.”

“If we can heal it, I’m sure it could lead us to Swarn,” said Nell. “It looks as though she wasnay here when Nia came through. This must be Nia’s doing, nay?”

“Who?”

“The Xia Sorceress.”

“Oh, aye, you and she are on a first-name basis, are you?” Ander gave her an incredulous look. “I cannay tell if this is her handiwork or not.”

“Who else would be strong enough to slaughter a marsh full of dragons?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Lah, it doesnay matter who did it. We need to find someone who can heal this dragon.”

“We’re nay getting it to that cave, I’ll tell you that much. It’s as big as the chopper as it is. I dinnay think there’s much we can do for it.”

The sky was darkening to a bloody crimson. The Irahok mountains loomed to the north, jagged and icy, and the dark shapes of slain dragons were scattered across the marsh in every direction. There was no sound but the rattling and rasping of the young dragon’s laboured breath. Nell felt her knees go watery again. She had imagined arriving triumphantly in the marsh by helicopter and then being part of some great adventure with Eliza and Swarn. Instead, she was alone with a confused policeman in a marsh full of dead dragons and she didn’t know what to do next. Well, she was fairly certain Eliza didn’t go weak in the knees whenever she had a problem to deal with. She pinched herself hard on the arm and drew in a sharp, shuddering breath. The stories she had heard from Eliza and Charlie tended not to include many friendly Tian Xia worlders. The only beings besides Swarn and her dragons that had helped Eliza in any way were the Faithful.

“We’ll go back to the temples,” she decided. “Even if the Faithful are nay there, praps we can find some trace of where they’ve gone.”

“What temples? Who? What are you talking about?” Ander ran his hands through his hair agitatedly. He had an awful sinking sense that he was being dragged deeper and deeper into something he did not understand or care to understand.

“By the lake of the Crossing. There were temples not far from where we landed, aye. They’d been attacked too, I think.”

“It’s a blur, lah. I wasnay feeling my best.”

“We should go there now.” She meant to sound decisive, confident, but everything she said came out in a high-pitched babble.

“It’s getting dark,” Ander commented. “But I dinnay fancy camping here.”

The dragon let out a sudden roar of pain and dragged itself a little further on its belly. Nell shuddered and looked away.

“No, we have to hurry,” she said. “We’ll just have some food and go straight back. How are we for fuel?”

Ander refilled the engine from their supply and they left the dragon with its burning wounds and torn body behind in the marsh among the hundreds of dead dragons. They flew through the night, over the forest. Nell thought she could still hear the dragon roaring in pain long after they had left the marsh behind them. It was nearing dawn when Ander put the helicopter down by the ruined temples.

“Think we’re seeing a sort of theme here,” he commented, drinking from a bottle of water. “So you reckon this is your friend the Xia Sorceress’s doing too?”

Nell took the bottle from him and finished it, then tossed it back into the helicopter.

“I spec so,” she said. How glad she would be, right now, to lie down in her bed in Holburg or to watch television with her father! She straightened her shoulders and made for the temples. “Let’s look around.”

What they found, again, was tragedy. There were many bodies crushed by the collapse of the temples but if Eliza had been accurate about the numbers of the Faithful, most had escaped. Broken statues and painted walls lay crumbled in great heaps. Some of the temples had been reduced to rubble while others stood charred, with only sections caved in. Broken as they were, the temples were easy to climb. Nell wandered through the ruins, hoping to find someone alive. She peered into a room half open to the dawn sky, its remaining walls beautifully painted. Her eye was caught by a picture of a glittering sea-snake when somebody stepped in front of her, barring her view, and spoke in a language she did not understand. What she did understand very well, however, was that a narrow steel blade was pointed straight at her throat.

Chapter

~12~

E
liza had read a little of harrowghasters
and heard some of Swarn’s stories about them but she had never seen one. In this she could count herself lucky, for none who laid eyes on them and lived to tell of it had ever described it as a pleasant experience. Beings caught between life and death, they were among the most fearsome predators in Tian Xia. Emaciated and yet possessed of inhuman strength, with dank, matted hair and rotting skin the colour of a mottled bruise, they looked and smelled of death. They lived on the hearts of mortal beings and could stop the blood and breath of any living creature with a mere touch. After paralyzing their victims in this way, they cut out the heart, drank it dry and ate it. The story had it that, long before the separation of the worlds, the harrowghasters had been a tribe of noble and rebellious humans, until a malevolent Faery Cursed them into this terrible form for eternity. Beheading them or cutting out their withered hearts, widely considered a reliable way of killing any mortal creature, was of no use. They died only when deprived of heart’s blood for a period of many months, growing gradually weaker until they fell into total decay. Beings with power kept them at bay with barriers and enchantments. Others stayed away if they could. During the war harrowghasters had crossed over in great hordes, moving through villages and leaving only corpses in their wake. Now fourteen of these monstrous creatures were walking the halls of the Mancer Citadel.

The Cra gave them a wide berth, swooping out of reach and staying close to the ceilings while the harrowghasters massed below, reaching vainly. The mountain-womi kept close together and managed brief Confusions and walls of fire to keep the harrowghasters away. However, two witches had been exploring the Citadel independently and the younger of the two was caught unawares and swarmed. She was left now slumped on the stairs, her bloody chest gaping open. The harrowghasters moved on, following the scent of life.

Eliza and the wizard of Lil had spent no more than an hour searching unsuccessfully for books not yet drained by the Sorceress. Eliza had twice had to remind Uri Mon Lil of who she was, who he was, and what they were doing. Once this was clear to him, he would set about the task with renewed zeal until he forgot again. Eliza smelled the harrowghasters before she saw them, the unmistakable waft of rotting flesh pouring from the hallway. She dropped the book she’d been examining and drew her dagger.

“Something is coming,” she said to Uri Mon Lil. “Get behind me and find a spell in your book.”

Uri Mon Lil was more than happy to dart behind Eliza.

“Spells are at the back of the book,” Eliza reminded him.

“What am I looking for?” he asked, flipping pages frantically.

“Something useful,” said Eliza as the harrowghasters swarmed into the Library, their clouded eyes lighting on the girl and the wizard. The stench was overpowering. Eliza spoke a simple barrier spell and the harrowghasters pressed themselves around it. Their lips had rotted away, leaving black-toothed hideous grins exposed, and they clacked their teeth now with eagerness. She could feel the barrier buckling under their strength and knew her skill was not enough to hold it long.

“You need to do the spell of flight,” she said urgently to the wizard. “Flight with your staff. Quick.”

Uri Mon Lil read the spell. As he finished, Eliza let her barrier crumble and Uri Mon Lil shot up into the air with his staff. Eliza darted between two of the harrowghasters, racing towards Foss’s stone figure as if he could offer protection.

“Do something!” she shouted at the wizard, who was hovering way up near the ceiling, hanging over his staff and reading anxiously. The harrowghasters gave up on him and made for Eliza. For a minute or two she was able to fend them off with her dagger. She sliced off hands that reached for her, causing the harrowghasters to be a little more cautious, but there were too many of them to keep in her line of sight at all times. She stepped back and felt something like ice on her back, right between her shoulder blades, an awful cold grip that seemed to suck the air right out of her. The blood in her veins stopped flowing and a deathly heaviness sealed over her. Her eyes darted towards the dangling wizard but she could not make a sound, her lungs constricting violently.

Uri Mon Lil’s book flew from his hands and hurtled across the room, striking the harrowghaster that had touched Eliza in the head. It was only a second but the blow knocked him slightly and his fingers left her back. Her blood began to flow again and air rushed into her lungs. She dove sideways, away from that deathly touch. The others descended on her, but before they could lay their hands on her all the books on the floor rose up and began to whirl about the room, battering the harrowghasters. A path through the storm of books cleared before Eliza, straight to the window. She could hear a voice chanting, and for a terrible moment she thought it was Nia. But then the voice cried, “Run, my girl!” and she saw her grandmother, Selva, by the hole Nia had blasted through the
wall. The empty books rained down on the harrowghasters. Eliza grabbed Uri Mon Lil’s book and ran to the window.