I can save the last girl. I dropped towards her, saw an Insect bearing down on her, mandibles gaping. I couldn’t reach her fast enough – it smashed her to the ground. She shoved her basket into its whirling maxillae, turned on one side to crawl, and the Insect shredded the basket, then ripped out her throat.
Her determined expression burnt on my memory. I leant on my right wing, wheeled so tightly the curtain wall slipped into the sky. The Throne Room’s North Façade filled my field of vision, like flying into a cliff. I beat hard and swooped up in front of it: long lines of carving raced down past me – the gargoyles topping the wall, then the thinning pinnacles with drooping feathers, and the finials atop each one. From a frieze before me, to spikes below – I was over.
I cupped my wings half-closed and plunged across the cloister towards the balcony where we’d stood with San. I skidded vertically down the air alongside the Throne Room wall, the balcony no bigger than a fingernail, then a matchbox, then I saw the balustrade rail and backed frantically – wings splayed against the airflow so extreme it fingered out all my feathers and popped up the thumb feather.
I whammed onto the balustrade, jumped off it, into the tower, down the staircase, threw wide the door at the bottom, and into the Throne Room.
All the archers on the galleries drew on me in surprise before they recognised me. I halted in front of San, my plumes spread everywhere. ‘My lord! There are Insects outside!’
‘Here?’ said the Emperor.
‘In the demesne!’
San left the throne and paced past me. The gypsies had gone and the benches were empty; he must’ve finished questioning them. I sketched what I’d seen and his brows met in a scowl. ‘A breach from the Shift?’
‘I don’t know!’
‘On all sides?’ He strode down the aisle. ‘I knew they’d break through in more places, one day, but I hoped it wouldn’t be here.’
‘I’ll rally us all!’ I said.
‘Yes, Comet. Send everyone out! Fly and see where they’re coming from! Any tunnels or bridges.’
As we left the Throne Room I turned and beckoned half the Imperial Fyrd bowmen. They clattered down the twin staircases and followed behind us as we strode across the Starglass Quadrangle, behind Simurgh at the foot of all the buttresses, across the lawn and into the southern Dace Gate tower. The dim, stone staircase made me blink. San ascended the cold spiral, gathering Imperial Fyrd out of the guardrooms at every storey, and onto the tower top.
The view was carnage. People were running towards us from all directions, over the moat bridge, disappearing below us, in through the gateway arch. On the grass between the moat and the river, bodies lay spread-eagled. Insects were rampaging back and forth, killing in a frenzy, then turning to chase down the next farmhand, labourer, angler, servant, stable boy. I saw ten with carapaces shining: they were slaughtering unarmed Zascai as if in their millions.
Ten more bugs were skirring from traveller to sightseer on the Eske side of the river. They leapt upon the last young man on the road, tore him to bloody strips, then began to converge on the scent of the town.
Our archers immediately started shooting at them, but they were beyond range. San said, ‘Guards! Let everyone in, stop the Insects entering. Comet, you must not let them reach Demesne.’
I jumped up and over the parapet, flew with wings pointed, propelled me to my fastest level flight over Harcourt, to the Southwest Tower and Tornado’s rooms. Now I could see Insects outside the Yett Gate too, on Six Mile Avenue – people sprinting full pelt and Insects gaining on them!
I landed atop the tower, hurled open its trapdoor, jumped inside, onto the landing of the topmost floor, hurtled down the staircase to the middle floor where Tawny lives, hammered on the door.
Tornado answered. He was stripped to the waist, his shoulder bandaged, cupping a cardboard takeaway container in one hand.
‘Insects!’ I said. ‘There are bugs outside! The Dace Gate, the Yett Gate! Get out and kill them!’
He stared at me, dropped the box, spilling fried rice and peas all over the floor, and dashed back into the room. I followed him in, and he grabbed his battle-axe. ‘San’s on Dace Gate south.’
‘Then that’s where I’m going,’ he called over his shoulder as he vanished down the stairs.
The window was open. I climbed out and glided down, landed on the grass before Tornado emerged from the tower. The Six Mile Avenue men and women were pouring in through the Yett Gate, spreading out and looking for a refuge, running into the gymnasium, Herst and Breckan. I grabbed one of the servants tearing past. ‘Go to Carillon and ring the bell!’
He nodded and darted away.
I ran into the path of two more servants. ‘You, go to Hayl’s room. You, to the Blacksmith’s. I want them both riding to kill the Insects heading for town.’
Carillon’s bell began to toll. I sped towards Simurgh, and the Swordsman and Armourer ran out of its loggia towards the Dace Gate. I headed them off. ‘No! Serein, go out the Yett Gate, people need you there.’
‘But the Emperor’s on the Dace Gate.’
‘Tawny’s got it covered.’
‘I want San to see me—’
‘Serein! Insects! Avenue! Go! … Sleat, get a horse from Hobson’s, kill the Insects in the meadows.’
‘Yes, Comet.’
‘Who’s left? You! Is Rayne back yet?’
‘Don’t think so.’
‘Shit. Run to the hospital, tell them to be ready, because I’m going to be bringing a lot of bodies in … Snow!’ The Sapper was leading a wedge of Imperial Fyrd with the odd servant mixed in. He was pointing towards Carillon. ‘Where’s the fire?’
‘There’s no fire. There’re Insects everywhere outside the walls. Get Hobson’s horses and ride up to Skein Gate, eliminate them, and if you find Frost, ask her too.’
‘Okay.’
I nodded, turned away, and was about to take off when I saw Saker running towards me, out of the shade of the last trees in the avenue. He carried rifle in hand and bow on his shoulder. ‘Gayle told me the place was crawling.’
‘She’s right.’
‘Which tower’s best for me?’ He looked about.
I gestured hand and wing at the east wall. ‘San’s on Dace Gate south.’
We both set off running.
‘You didn’t leave him alone?’
‘Of course not! With fyrd archers.’
‘They’re no marksmen! Jant, you kill the Insects in the sun’s direction – you can look into the glare.’
I lengthened my stride, left him behind, and climbed into the air, flew over our main gate, and the Emperor standing on its tower top, looking down at Tornado. Tawny was among the Insects on the grass below. He was tearing them to bits. His axe in his right hand, he simply let an Insect run at him, grabbed it by the foreleg and twisted it headfirst into the ground. He stomped the back of its head, driving its mandibles into the soil, and continued twisting its leg up until the ball joint ruptured and the leg came off, with the same oozy crack as pulling apart a cooked lobster.
Then he raised its head by the edge of one mandible, and pulled it back till he rived it off. He dropped the head, hefted the pointed leg like a spear and ran at the next Insect, which jinked and charged at him. I landed, drew my sword from between my wings, dispatched one quickly, and when I next glanced at Tornado he’d pinned the Insect to the ground with the disembodied leg through its twitching abdomen, and he was holding its head up by one soggy palp.
This is Tornado with a shoulder injury and a dose of cat. One rushed at him from the side and he swung his axe against its two forelegs and cut them off. Thrown onto its four back legs the Insect reared. Tornado continued the swing up in an arc, severing head from thorax.
I glanced up to the tower and saw Saker at the battlements. He pulled his sunglasses from his pocket, shook out the arm and jammed them on. He flicked up the sight on his rifle, knelt and steadied the gun on a merlon, leant his cheek to it. I heard the bang
. He hooted, exhilarated, and slid the ramrod out of its housing.
An Insect hurtled onto the Bridge of Size. I ran towards it – it could see directly behind and skittered round on the spot. I held my katana with both hands and waited as it careered at me.
You have to let it come at you like this …
Two pairs of jaws wide, antennae swept back, glassy-lacquer almond-shaped head, eyes and thorax reflected the intense sun. I waited till the last second, side-stepped, swept up my sword and lopped its head off.
Took to the air. On the lawn, a man and woman from the fishponds were running zigzag and trying to judge where the next one would dash from. I yelled, ‘Go into the Castle!’
They ran over the bridge. Sword in hand I glided over an Insect closing on them. I was about to drop down before it when there was a crack! and it crumpled. Its head had been blown to shards. I glanced back to the Dace Gate tower and saw a puff of smoke rising from where Saker was kneeling.
I flew on further, found an Insect, and the same thing happened. Further still, chased down another and he shot that, too.
‘You git!’ I said. ‘Give me a chance.’
There were no survivors on the Eske Road. Bodies, thirty or so, lay splayed in fans of blood. Just off the road I spotted three carts in a line. The carts were abandoned, no horses in the traces, and each carried a big cage, half-covered with a tarpaulin. They were some of the cage-wagons we use to convey Insects from the Front to our amphitheatres. And the people who ship Insects for us, are gypsies.
I landed at the first wagon. Sure enough, its sturdy, metal-barred hatch was open. Its ramp had been fully extended to the ground. I grasped the bars and climbed onto the cage roof, looked down inside. The steel floor was raked with scratches from Insect claws. The rucked-back tarpaulin had been dented into an impression where a gypsy had crouched as he raised the gate.
Using Insects as weapons!
I stood and counted five more carts on the other side of the road. They’d been carefully positioned to give the released bugs a view of prey – people on the riverbank and cattle on the meadow. Insects had bolted straight at them, allowing the fucking Roses to escape, away down the Eske Road on the horses that had drawn the carts.
I yelled in fury and kicked the cage door so hard it rebounded.
Another bang, and smoke from the tower top. A skittering below me, by the wheel. I turned to see an Insect that had been reaching up the wagon behind me, flexing in death throes. Saker had blown a hole the size of my palm in its head.
I stared at the battlements: I could hardly see him. Light flashed on his lens. I glanced at the dead Insect, then at the tower. He could have fucking hit me! I swept my wings in a beat, feeling my back muscles work, sprang into the air and flapped up, over Tornado and returned to the Dace Gate. The Emperor turned to face me as I landed beside him. Saker was kneeling at the parapet, sighting another shot.
I said, ‘They’re not coming from the Shift! Gypsies are releasing them!’
The Emperor’s face hardened in understanding. From looking concerned, he was now furious.
Saker squeezed the trigger and his rifle cracked. He paused, cheek against the sideplate, watching through the sight, then glanced at me. ‘I got it. Tornado’s tackling the two in the stables.’
‘That one on the cage wagon—’
‘Was about to grab your leg.’
‘You killed at the greatest distance I have ever seen,’ said San.
‘Eight hundred metres. …Um. I’ve run out of cartridges.’
‘What is that gun?’
‘Cyan’s gadget.’
The Emperor extended his hand, and Saker stood up and passed the rifle to him, letting his grasp slip off it, so San was left holding it. Saker took a couple of steps past us, staring down into the Castle towards Lisade.
Screams started from that direction. The Emperor and I hastened to join him at the inside parapet. Two Insects dashed out from behind Lisade. The lawn was crowded with men and women seeking shelter, banging on the doors of the barracks, Lisade and Simurgh. People had run into the buildings and shut the doors, and weren’t letting them in. They fled from one to the next, begging, screaming.
The Insects bolted straight into them. Both latched onto girls hammering on the portals of Lisade – slew them with deep slashes. Everyone raced from them, towards the barracks.
Three more Insects charged from the rear of Lisade, following the foot of the curtain wall, plunged into the crowd. One started scraping at the library’s windows, seeing the people inside. One pulled a woman down, she raised her hands to protect her face, but it cut off hands, forearms, head – as her boyfriend watched helplessly. It picked up the head and started masticating it. The boyfriend didn’t see – he was running. He carried his young son over his shoulder, and as he reached the barracks he bumped the lad up onto a stone window frame. The Insect pursued him, grabbed his wings, dragged him to the grass and eviscerated him with a scrabble of claws. Antennae waving, it spun and returned for the boy, rode up on its back legs and plucked him from the ledge.
I jumped off the tower, landed behind it, raked my sword over the flexing sclerites of its abdomen, slitting them open, sliced through its neck and collapsed it, dead, but the boy already lay in halves. I ran to the next Insect – when I reached it an arrow point appeared between its compound eyes. I grabbed its antennae, felt their corrugations slip through my palm. It steepled its legs around me, raked down my jeans, and dropped dead at my feet.
I glanced up to Saker. He had already killed the other three Insects, and was rapidly shooting more pouring out from behind Lisade.
The crowd pressed into the barracks. It parted abruptly and Tornado ran through, axe in hand, glaring at the spiny, contracted carcasses, each with an arrow neatly protruding from the triangle of oculi eyes in their foreheads.
Now screams from beyond the Throne Room were telling me the fucking Roses were releasing Insects on the Carillon side, too. I yelled, ‘Tawny! Go round behind Lisade and down the west side. There are bugs there!’
He boggled at me. ‘Insects inside?’
‘Go!’
‘In the Castle?’
‘Wake up, Tawny! Saker will clear this side!’
He tore off towards the screeches, hands and battle-axe pumping. I glanced up at the soaring walls and pinnacle-edged roof of the Throne Room. It’d be difficult to gain enough height to clear it, but the Emperor was watching. I sprinted from the crowd, jumped, and flapped hard. I pulled myself up before the buttresses, long stained glass windows, in jerks with each flap. My wings and upper back muscles burned. I felt their fibres tearing: just when I couldn’t stand the pain any more and they started to seize, I made it to the edge of the roof. I clung to a pinnacle, stepped onto the lead, and ran up, across the roof, past two more lines of pinnacles, over the shallow crest and down the other side. I jumped off the edge and glided out over Carillon.
Bodies littered the grass, some curled around their opened bellies, most extended, lacking limbs or heads. Insects dashed about, maybe ten or fifteen. Tré Cloud was standing over one he’d just bisected with his 1978 Sword. The people who’d run in the Yett Gate were sprinting crazily between the servants’ quarters and the gym, but Hayl emerged between them, on horseback with her lance.
Good. I’d seen at once where they were coming from: a line of cage wagons parked in front of the theatre and continuing beyond the corner of the North Façade. Most had their gates raised and Insects already released, gypsies racing away to the Skein Gate. Two women atop the rocking cages were opening their hatches, and Insects were thrashing under the rising gates, forcing antennae and foreclaws into the widening gap – then their heads shoved the hatches up – they ran free. Charged down the ramps, straight at me, but I was looking at the women on the cages. The one on the left was Connell Rose.
Connell picked a crossbow from the cage top and levelled it at me. I turned and pelted ahead of the frantic Insects, and took off. I accelerated pow
erfully, pulling down the air in short, sharp beats, braked hard in the air above Breckan, somersaulted and sped back down the length of Carillon going my fastest.
Connell was on the grass sprinting for the Skein Gate. I stooped like a falcon, half-folded wings pushing me faster. If I hit her at this speed I’ll break her spine. Carillon was a blur. I focussed on her back. She raced faster but she had no chance. Her back came closer. Air shrieked over my wings, and she screamed.
At the last second I flared, brought my legs forward and slammed into her shoulder blades with my boot soles. She hurled forwards and landed full length, skidded on the grass. I used my momentum to balloon up over her, and touched down beyond her, bounded twice, and shawled my wings.
She lay prone. Was she dead?
I flapped and bounced towards her like a curious crow. She was breathing. I might have riven the ribs from her spine. I slipped my hand under her, to turn her over. Immediately she burst up and tried to run, but just collapsed with her arms clenched around her chest, groaning.
Above her right breast she had a new tattoo, of an exploding barrel, and on the left, an Insect poised like a mantis. They were bleeding where she’d grazed the grass. Her curly hair straggled, and her eyes blazed with hate. I said, ‘How could you release Insects? Of course we’d catch you!’
‘Bast’rd …’
I drew my sword and rested its tip on the ground. She looked from the perfect blade, up to my eyes.
‘Why do such a stupid thing?’
She wheezed, and coughed. I grabbed her biceps and pulled her to her feet. ‘I’ll put you in front of an Insect.’
‘No!’
‘Oh, you can speak?’ I dragged her a few paces and she dug in her heels. ‘Hey? Hayl! Save one for me!’
Connell wailed.
‘Hayl! That bug! Back it up against the wall. Just … keep it there … this lass wants to talk to it.’ I hauled her past the empty cage cart, with my swordtip at her sternum, and she screamed, ‘Comet, no! Fuck! Not the Insect!’
Fair Rebel Page 33
