by Paul Stewart
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
PART ONE: THE SPYGLASS CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
PART TWO: THE VOYAGE CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
PART THREE: NEW SANCTAPHRAX CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
PART FOUR: THE DESCENT CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
PART FIVE: THE FOURTH AGE CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
EPILOGUE
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ABOUT THE AUTHORS
STEWART & RIDDELL are the co-creators of the bestselling Edge Chronicles, which now boasts sales of over three million books and has been published in over thirty languages around the world. They also created the award-winning series Far-Flung Adventures, and the fantastic Barnaby Grimes.
PAUL STEWART is a highly regarded and award-winning author of books for young readers – everything from picture books to football stories, fantasy and horror. Before turning his hand to writing for children, he worked as an English teacher in Germany and Sri Lanka. He met Chris Riddell when their children attended the same nursery school.
CHRIS RIDDELL is an accomplished illustrator and author. He has illustrated many books for children, including The Sleeper and the Spindle and Coraline by Neil Gaiman, Russell Brand’s retelling of The Pied Piper of Hamelin, and The Tales of Beedle the Bard by J. K. Rowling, and he writes and illustrates the Ottoline and Goth Girl series. Chris has won the Kate Greenaway Medal three times, and his book Goth Girl and the Ghost of a Mouse won the Costa Children’s Book Award. He was the UK Children’s Laureate from 2015 to 2017.
BY PAUL STEWART & CHRIS RIDDELL
THE EDGE CHRONICLES:
The Quint Saga
The Curse of the Gloamglozer
The Winter Knights
Clash of the Sky Galleons
The Twig Saga
Beyond the Deepwoods
Stormchaser
Midnight Over Sanctaphrax
The Rook Saga
The Last of the Sky Pirates
Vox
Freeglader
The Nate Saga
The Immortals
The Cade Saga
The Nameless One
Doombringer
The Descenders
BARNABY GRIMES:
Curse of the Night Wolf
Return of the Emerald Skull
Legion of the Dead
Phantom of Blood Alley
WYRMEWEALD:
Returner’s Wealth
Bloodhoney
The Bone Trail
For younger readers:
FAR-FLUNG ADVENTURES:
Fergus Crane
Corby Flood
Hugo Pepper
www.stewartandriddell.co.uk
Paul: For Julie, Joseph and Anna
Chris: For Jo, William, Katy and Jack
· INTRODUCTION ·
Far far away, jutting out into the emptiness beyond, like the figurehead of a mighty stone ship, is the Edge. It forms the tip of a vast, sprawling land of rock and grassland and seemingly endless forest. A river – the Edgewater River – cuts through it all. Its source lies at Riverrise, far to the west. From there, it meanders its way across the shifting landscapes, gathering size and power as it does so, before pouring over the lip of rock at its easternmost point in a mighty torrent.
Close to this isolated outcrop, secured to the ground below it, is the floating city of New Sanctaphrax. In the First Age of Flight, when the uncharted Deepwoods were inhabited only by primitive tribes, Sanctaphrax was the centre of Earth and Sky studies. Later, following the cutting of the anchor chain that moored it, the city drifted off into Open Sky, only returning five hundred years later at the beginning of the Third Age of Flight. Back then, it was infested with malevolent shapeshifters. But they have gone now, and the city has changed once more.
These days, New Sanctaphrax is vibrant, youthful and growing fast. Ancient, dilapidated buildings are being renovated; magnificent new ones are being built. The city has become renowned throughout the Edge for its liberal values and modern learning. Like weary travellers to a welcoming hearth, the poor, the downtrodden and the oppressed are drawn there; political dissenters and heretical scholars now call it home.
Most prominent among the many newcomers are the Descenders. And although they are revered within the floating city itself, it is because of these brave explorers, who have dedicated their lives to discovering what lies far below the Edge, that the very existence of New Sanctaphrax is now under threat.
From the earliest times, Edge academics have tried to make sense of their world. Earth scholars, cloudwatchers, mistsifters; Professors of Light and Darkness. Theories have come and gone. One century’s facts became another century’s fables.
Once, for instance, it was believed that those who stepped off the Edge would fall for ever. Now, thanks to the intrepid Descenders and their expeditions down into the depths, this is no longer certain. From beneath the jutting rock, far below the cloud cover and shrouded in permanent darkness, they have brought sightings of land. New, uncharted land. Land unlike any encountered before. Despite the terrible dangers, the Descenders are determined to unlock its secrets. For in doing so, they believe they will discover the origins of life itself.
But not all Edgelanders support this perilous undertaking.
In Riverrise, where the waif elders disapprove of anyone venturing down into the eternal night, descending has been condemned. In Hive, still recovering from years of tyrannical rule, such pursuits are considered pointless at best; at worst, a wicked waste of resources. It is, however, in Great Glade where opposition to the Descenders is strongest.
Like New Sanctaphrax now, the Deepwoods’ city of Great Glade was once a magnet for those who wished to live in freedom, peace and harmony. It was founded in the First Age of Flight by the legendary champion of the lost and dispossessed, Maris Verginix, as a safe refuge: a place where everyone was equal. But, like so much else in the Edge, Great Glade has changed over the centuries. Thanks to its power-crazed High Professor of Flight, Quove Lentis, it has become a harsh and brutal place, intolerant of new ideas, leaving its citizens terrified of dissent.
From his sumptuous palace in the Cloud Quarter, and with the support of his mighty skyfleet and powerful army, Quove Lentis rules the city with an iron fist. It is he who decides which academic subjects may or may not be studied. Considering it a threat to his own power, he has decreed that descending must end – and if that means destroying New Sanctaphrax in the process, then so be it.
Opinions differ as to why he hates descending so intensely. Some say that it is because of his allegiance with the waifs of Riverrise, from whom he obtains supplies of the eternal water of life. Others maintain that he fears his stranglehold on skyship-building in this, the Third Age of Flight, might be jeopardized by the new technology the Descenders are using. And then there are those – the majo
rity – who claim simply that his heart has hardened with old age.
Whatever the reason, Quove Lentis has decreed that descending is heresy, and that Descenders and their sympathizers are enemies of Great Glade. They must be wiped out. And it is the most famous Descender of all, Nate Quarter, who is at the top of his list of heretics. Quove Lentis will not be happy until he, and everyone related to him, is dead.
Nate’s half-brother, Thadeus Quarter, a talented scholar whose work on phrax crystals had the potential to transform life in the Edge, has already been murdered. And Thadeus’s son, Cade, would have been next, had he not managed to flee Great Glade just in time.
Having stowed away on board a passing skytavern, Cade Quarter travelled to the Farrow Ridges, where a tiny outpost was situated on a beautiful lake in a distant corner of the Edge. Here, the former ‘city boy’ carved out a life for himself, building a cabin, learning to hunt and fish, and forging lifelong friendships.
Cade loves his new home and has no intention of leaving. But he is in great danger. Quove Lentis’s influence is spreading to the furthest reaches of the Edgelands. He has already funded an invasion of the Farrow Ridges by ruthless mercenaries; an invasion that Cade and his friends defeated, leaving Quove Lentis more vengeful still. What is more, Drax Adereth, one of Lentis’s trusted henchmen – and someone Cade crossed on board the skytavern – is also after him.
Cade Quarter’s past, it seems, is impossible to escape.
Now, on a tranquil evening beside the peaceful Farrow Lake, Cade receives an intriguing offer. He must make a decision. But he will have to consider his options carefully, for it is a decision that will change his life – and the lives of all those who call the Edge their home – for ever.
The Edgewater River. Riverrise, Hive and Great Glade. The Farrow Ridges. New Sanctaphrax. Names on a map.
Yet behind each name lie a thousand tales – tales that have been recorded in ancient scrolls, tales that have been passed down the generations by word of mouth – tales which even now are being told.
What follows is but one of those tales.
PART ONE
THE SPYGLASS
· CHAPTER ONE ·
Cade sat in his chair in front of the fire, the brass spyglass in his hands. The yellow metal was tarnished; the two initials engraved into it – N and Q – were clogged with grime.
Over the previous few months, Cade had been so preoccupied with helping to defend the Farrow Lake that he’d neglected his daily chores. His little lakeside cabin grew dirty, while the walled vegetable garden became completely overgrown. Now, with the battle won and Farrow Lake safe once more, Cade decided it was time to put things right.
For two long days he toiled, and though he was tired now, it had been worth it. The floor was spotless. The windows gleamed. The cobwebs were gone. Pots and pans, crockery and cutlery were scrubbed and on the shelves and in the cupboards where they belonged. Outside, a neat pile of newly chopped logs stood at one end of the cabin; at the other, two dozen lakefish hung from hooks on the drying rack. Even the underground storeroom, which had become so depleted, was full once more. Crates of freshly harvested fruits and vegetables rubbed shoulders with boxes of spices and sacks of grain, and a large wooden barrel, where a haunch of tilder was pickling in brine.
Now, all that remained to be done was to polish the brass spyglass. Cade had saved the best till last.
The spyglass, along with the perfume bottle and the four barkscrolls of working drawings, were Cade’s most precious possessions. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d managed to bring all of them with him when he’d fled Great Glade.
The faint scent of perfume that wafted into the air when Cade removed the glass stopper evoked vague memories of the mother he’d lost to the ‘wasters’ disease when he was still an infant; the barkscrolls reminded him of his father who, night after night, had worked so hard in his laboratory, unravelling the secrets of phrax – before that evil monster Quove Lentis had had him murdered.
And yet, even though it had belonged to someone he’d never met, it was the spyglass that meant the most to Cade. He carried it with him everywhere he went, and had done ever since his father had given it to him on his seventh birthday. Back then, Thadeus hadn’t said much about it. It was only when, eight years later, news reached Great Glade that the Descender Nate Quarter had returned from an epic expedition down the cliff face that Cade learned of its significance.
‘N … Q …’ Cade had whispered softly, tracing his fingers round the familiar letters engraved on the hollow shaft. ‘Nate Quarter.’ He’d looked up. ‘I didn’t know you had a brother, Father.’
And Thadeus Quarter had smiled ruefully. ‘Neither did I,’ came the curious reply.
As Cade turned the spyglass over in his hand, the many sights he’d seen through its lenses came flooding back. His first glimpse of his friend Celestia’s tree cabin in the woods that lay to the north of the Farrow Lake. The mighty falls cascading down between East and West Ridge in Hive. The sinister tallow-lit skulls that shrouded the hull of the Doombringer …
And yet, Cade mused, how many more sights the little spyglass must have revealed to his uncle Nate, the greatest Descender in all the Edge, as he set out on expedition after perilous expedition, climbing ever deeper down the great vertical cliff face. What wonders had he discovered? What dangers had he encountered? What hardships had he endured?
Cade looked down now at the spyglass and frowned. ‘If only I could know what you’ve seen,’ he whispered.
Nate Quarter stood on the jutting rock and looked down at the spyglass, his fingers tracing round the engraved N and Q of his name. It was time for his first descent.
He had felt so honoured when Ambris Hentadile – or the Professor, as he knew him – suggested that the two of them should descend together.
‘You and me, Nate,’ he’d said. ‘We shall discover what lies below the Edge and extend the frontiers of Edge knowledge, so that everyone – everyone – will benefit. For ever …’
Now the moment for their first descent had arrived, and a mixture of fear and excitement balled in the pit of Nate’s stomach, like a drop-weight about to be released.
Pushing any misgivings aside, he checked over his equipment. There wasn’t much. Rope coils and rock spikes strapped to his backpack. A pot of mentholated abrasion ointment. Meagre rations. His spyglass …
He was ready.
‘Tie a knot in your scarf to mark this first descent,’ the Professor told him, and smiled. ‘The first of many.’
Nate did as he was told, taking the end of his Descender’s scarf and carefully knotting it. He pulled it tight, then tighter still, until the knot was as hard as a small stone. And, as he did so, the abrasion ointment on his fingers stained the soft cloth a reddish brown.
He found himself thinking of all he was leaving behind. Eudoxia … Sanctaphrax …
Sanctaphrax had only recently returned from Open Sky – only recently become New Sanctaphrax. The city was still sparsely populated, its inhabitants made up of a motley collection of fettle-leggers, goblins and trolls, and ragged fourthlings like himself who had travelled across the grasslands of the Mire on foot. As for his wife, Eudoxia …
‘Descend,’ said the Professor, his voice breaking into Nate’s thoughts.
Nate seized one of the two ropes that had been anchored to the top of the cliff with a rock spike and lowered himself backwards over the jutting ledge. Then, hand over hand, his boots pressed firmly against the cliff face, he began to climb down. Beside him, the Professor did the same. Nate glanced across to see the wild excitement in his friend’s eyes.
This is it, Nate realized, his heart hammering inside his chest. I am a Descender.
They made their way down the cliff face in silence. All their thoughts were concentrated on keeping a firm hold on the rope and not slipping, despite the best attempts of the treacherous wind to tug them away from the rock face.
More than an hour had passed before Nate felt his
boots land on something solid. He looked down to see that they had reached a jutting outcrop of rock, broad enough for the two of them to stand up on.
‘We’ll rest here a while,’ said the Professor.
While the Professor unshouldered his backpack and rummaged inside for some of the provisions that would sustain them on their expedition, Nate unclipped his spyglass and put it to his eye. He looked up to the top of the cliff, already so far above them, and focused the lens.
Suddenly filling his vision was Eudoxia’s face.
Despite everything she’d said the previous evening, she had come to see him off. But it had been a tense, tearful parting, and she had set off back to Sanctaphrax long before he and the Professor had started their descent. But something must have changed her mind. She’d returned and was now staring down at him, as though by holding him in her gaze she might also keep him safe.
Nate swallowed, but the painful lump in his throat remained.
Without a spyglass of her own, Eudoxia couldn’t see him that well; but Nate could see her. And the sight of her bleak, tear-stained face, with its red-rimmed eyes and down-turned mouth, was too much to bear. He pulled away sharply and pointed the spyglass downwards, to look at what lay before him rather than torturing himself with the image of the person he had left behind – only to feel the Professor’s hand on his arm.
‘Don’t, Nate,’ he said. ‘Later, maybe, when there is something specific we wish to see more closely. But not now.’
Nate nodded. The Professor was right. It was all too big; too daunting. The only way to deal with the unknown immensity below was to take it one step at a time. He closed the spyglass and reattached it to the front of his descending jacket, then took the water flask and handful of hard-tack the Professor was holding out to him.
