‘Steady! Ready the poles!’
The river dragged the boat forward, pummelling the hull with its force, roaring against the wood until Kate felt sure it was about to burst through. Then the stern lifted clear of the bank and the river snatched the boat up in its watery claws, hurling it down the channel and forcing everyone on board to hold on. The boat bucked with the current, diving its prow deep into the water before being thrown back up again. The noise was deafening, water pounded hard against the hooded stern and the force propelled the boat wildly into a tunnel, where it began to shift and turn.
‘Poles!’ shouted the leader, his voice clear and calm.
The ‘poles’ were thick enough to be tree trunks, their flat ends already tattered and shredded from whatever use they were meant to be put to. Kate watched the wall on the right side of the tunnel speeding towards them in the lantern light. The dark-haired guard slid his piece of tree through a wide metal ring that pointed diagonally out of the boat – half hanging out over the water, half on board - and screwed metal bolts through the ring to hold it tightly in place.
When the wall came too close, the pole struck it first. Kate and Edgar screamed as the boat shook with the impact, throwing them across the deck and into the side of a wooden chest. Mud sprayed across the boat as the pole scored along the hard earth leaving deep clawmarks in its wake.
‘Secure the cargo!’ the leader ordered as the boat turned slowly away from the wall, pointing back into the centre of the river. ‘Retract the pole!’
The dark-haired guard dealt with the pole, while the thinner man dragged Kate and Edgar back towards the guardrail. He lifted their arms and clipped their wrist ropes on to hooks meant for holding leather bags. ‘Hold on this time,’ he shouted at Kate. ‘I don’t want to have to come back looking for your corpse.’
Kate did as she was told, if only to save herself from the rocky water. The Blackwatch used the poles three more times to keep the boat safely on track, but the third time was definitely the worst. Instead of scraping through thick earth, the pole on the left side struck solid stone instead, splintering its head and smashing into the wall so hard that the guardrail buckled and cracked.
‘What do they think they’re—? Arrgh!’ Edgar cried out. He and Kate twisted their hands out of reach of the grinding rocks and the boat scraped hard along the tunnel wall. Sparks flew from the metal hooks as the rocks chewed against them and they turned their faces away from the burning light.
The Blackwatch fought to bring the boat back under control but the river fought back. All Kate and Edgar could do was hang on, until the moment of relief when the boat left the wall behind and the tunnel opened into three separate paths, sending it careering down the central flow. The divided current slowed the river enough for the boat to gradually lose speed, and the Blackwatch leader stood at the very front, leaning out across the water as the vessel settled into the river’s gentler flow. Kate dared to hope that the worst was over and the two guards used oars to steer the boat smoothly along the very centre of the current, eventually making them feel safe enough to let go of the guardrail.
‘That is one way to travel,’ said Edgar, as Kate pulled their ropes out of the bag hook.
‘It is the only way,’ said the leader, striding towards him. ‘I see you have found your voice.’
‘Hard not to with all that going on,’ said Edgar. ‘What are you trying to do? Kill us?’
‘Not yet, boy.’
‘Haven’t you lot heard of ladders? It would’ve been much easier to just climb out of that cavern, you know.’
‘We shall require the use of a boat where we are going,’ said the leader. ‘I suggest you keep any further opinions to yourself.’ He turned to the dark-haired guard. ‘Untie their hands and give them some food.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The guard walked across the boat and slipped a knife deftly through their wrist ropes.
‘Where do you think this river goes?’ asked Edgar, as the guard walked away.
The man stopped and looked back. ‘We’re taking you where all rivers go in the end,’ he said. ‘We’re taking you to sea.’
Silas’s crow liked being underground even less than it liked being out at sea. Its feathers were slick with rain and gritty with salt, and the close confines of Fume’s streets already made it long for the freedom of the open sky. It hopped in between the bars that blocked the northern entrance to the Thieves’ Way and fluttered in, flying gently above the surface of the underground river and following its sluggish course deep beneath Fume, into the lamplight of the smugglers’ tunnels.
There were no humans to be seen. The crow blinked, searching for markers to follow. Silas’s orders had been very clear. Find Kate. Deliver the message. It remembered the girl who had brought it back to life, but it did not like being away from its master for so long. It was aware of the girl’s spirit on the river as the flowing water amplified the energies of the veil, letting it sense distant echoes of every soul within the river’s sight. Kate was somewhere on the river, and if its master wanted the crow to find her, that is what it had to do.
The humans’ lights lit the crow’s way as it fluttered along the tunnels like a ghost. Wherever the river split it chose the path with the fastest water flow, taking it deeper and deeper underground. It dodged fishing nets that dropped from the tunnel roofs down to little anchors in the river bed, and was forced to glide close enough to the surface to feel the chill of the water on its chest feathers wherever the low roof dipped almost to the water. The vial the bird was carrying made its flight more awkward than usual, but it kept going, following a trail of river lights until at last the pounding roar of a second waterway thrummed through the earth.
The tunnel widened and bridges appeared across the water where the Thieves’ Way drew in close to a stronger river. Their waters poured into the same tunnel, flowing just a few feet apart until the Thieves’ Way turned to the left and curled gently away, leaving the second river to speed on. The crow checked the veil and changed rivers. The stronger river was older and followed an ancient path, carving its way through the earth and stone of Fume’s deepest foundations on a course it had created over many thousands of years.
The humans who lived this far under the earth lived in clusters of tents in hollows cut into the walls, and the river’s steep banks were filled with tiny one-man boats. The crow had travelled this far beneath Fume before, but only ever at Silas’s side. It knew that it was a dangerous place to be, so when the first rock came speeding past its beak it was ready. The humans on the bank had not seen a living bird for many years, and their first instinct was to kill. The crow had a job to do, and it had no intention of ending up in a human’s cooking pot. It swooped hard towards the rock-thrower, raking its claws through his hair, but the man’s throwing arm was faster. A second rock streaked through the air. The crow swerved and felt a tug on its chest as the rock struck the little glass vial, smashing it and sending its neatly rolled note spinning down into the water below. The bird recovered quickly, flapped away from its attackers with an eerie screech and followed the river round a corner of jutting stone, leaving them and its precious cargo behind.
The crow flew on. It may not have its message any more, but it could still reach the girl. It was not long before buildings sprang up along the river; flat buildings that pressed into the walls as if they were being swallowed by the jaws of the earth. Waterwheels slapped the current, the river became straight and fast, and somewhere up ahead the girl was close by. The crow lowered its head and gathered speed. It streaked past a waterwheel next to a bank filled with rowing boats and let the veil lead the way, speeding round turns and on through a handful of branching tunnels until, finally, its target was in sight.
A boat pushed through the water up ahead, its bulbous stern looking like a half-sunk wooden bubble. The crow locked its sights upon it and with two strong beats of its wings settled into a spearing glide. The boat sloshed clumsily through the water as the crow matched its speed. Then
it saw her.
The bird checked for enemies and spotted three men on the deck. The moment all three of them were looking the opposite way, it made its move, dropping down on to the hooded roof of the boat and scratching its claws gently into the wood. It opened its wings, stretched them out and let them settle back into place upon its back. The girl looked up and the crow sensed the presence of its master within the veil. Somewhere, Silas was listening.
Kate elbowed Edgar in the ribs and pointed to the bird perched on the boat’s roof, its black wings shimmering in the lantern light.
‘Is that what I think it is?’ she whispered.
‘It looks like Silas’s crow!’
The crow ruffled its feathers, hopped along the roof and dropped smoothly through the air, landing proudly beside Kate. She reached out to touch it but it snapped at her fingers and lowered its head, eyeing her warily.
The Blackwatch leader crossed the deck to talk to his men and the crow hopped on to the battered guardrail behind Kate, staying out of sight.
‘Do you think Silas is nearby?’ asked Edgar.
‘If he was, I think we would have seen him by now.’
Something sparkled on the bird’s chest and Kate noticed what looked like broken glass looped into a string harness knotted round its back. ‘There’s something tied here,’ she said quietly. The crow allowed her to unknot the damp string and the broken neck of a stoppered vial hung from it as she brought it down. ‘I think it was carrying a bottle.’
‘What? Like a message?’
‘Maybe,’ said Kate. ‘Silas must have sent it here to tell us something.’
‘Well, a lot of good that did us,’ said Edgar. ‘Do you think he might have—’
The Blackwatch leader glared across the boat at Edgar, silencing him at once. ‘Who told you to speak?’ he demanded, striding over to stand in front of him.
‘Er . . . no one, sir,’ said Edgar.
‘Then I am telling you now. Be silent.’
The crow snapped its beak aggressively behind Kate, but the leader was already walking away.
‘If the crow knew where to find us, Silas will,’ Edgar whispered. ‘Maybe he can help us.’
‘Silas isn’t here,’ said Kate. ‘No one is coming to help us.’
‘Then what are we supposed to do? I suppose we could set the crow on them. It can be pretty vicious when it wants to be. Ow!’ The crow had pecked Edgar’s ear, and the Blackwatch leader turned again.
‘Are you testing me, boy?’
Edgar was about to speak again but Kate grabbed his hand and spoke first. ‘We just want to know why we are here,’ she said. ‘Where are we going?’
‘That is not your business. You!’ The leader turned to the dark-haired man. ‘I told you to feed them.’
‘Yes, sir.’
The man ducked into the back of the boat and soon reemerged carrying a bowl of dried fish and soft bread. Kate took it from him before he could get close enough to spot the hidden crow and he spat at her feet before walking away.
‘Nice,’ said Edgar. ‘I don’t care how your men treat me, but they could at least treat Kate with some respect.’
The Blackwatch leader leaned over Edgar like a lion tormenting a rat. ‘We respect her well enough,’ he said. ‘But some of us cannot forget what she is. My men do not trust the Skilled, but they will treat her well because she is worth something to them. You, on the other hand, need to learn your place.’
Edgar did not see the punch coming. The man’s fist struck his nose sideways on, making it burst with pain, but Edgar did not make a sound.
‘What did you do that for?’ demanded Kate. ‘Are you all right, Edgar?’
‘Fine,’ he said, grasping his nose and flinching a little as the leader patted him heavily on the top of his head.
‘Now you will be quiet,’ he said, ‘or next time I will throw you over the side myself. Do you understand?’
Edgar said nothing, which the man took as agreement.
‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘We will be out of the city very soon. Enjoy the peace while you can.’
Edgar would not allow Kate to check his nose, insisting that it did not feel broken, so they sat together, sharing the bread and fish with the crow and waiting for sunlight to appear in the never-ending maze of tunnels. But sunlight never came. The first glimpse Kate and Edgar had of the outside world was the glow of moonlight gleaming through an arch of metal bars. The underground entrances to the City Below had been sealed off, but the Blackwatch already knew about the bars and they were ready.
The dark-haired guard threw two anchoring lines over the sides of the boat, slowing it down and preventing the current from hurling it into the metal at speed. Chains creaked and the boat shuddered as the second guard jumped out on to the bank and worked at the padlocks holding the bars in place.
Kate and Edgar did not care what he was doing. They were too busy looking out at the beauty of a blue-black sky, feeling the cool touch of fresh air upon their faces and staring up at the silver moon when it peered out between the fast-moving clouds.
‘I never thought I’d be so happy to see the moon,’ said Kate.
The guard finished his work with the locks and the bars creaked open. The other waited for him to jump back on board and then the two anchor lines were unhitched. The current lifted the boat and sent it speeding out of the city’s lower walls into clear air. The river left the city swiftly behind, carrying Kate and Edgar away from Fume, away from the Skilled and the wardens and the many nameless people who had been so happy to see them captured at last. There was nothing else for them to do but look up at the stars as the rain clouds cleared overhead and the river carried them between its darkened banks, away from the confines of the City Below and out into the open world.
17
Behind the Mask
Silas sat in silence, watching Bandermain’s health deteriorating swiftly right in front of his eyes. The creeping lung was normally a slow, crippling disease, but without Dalliah’s efforts to stem its course Bandermain’s sickness was clearly making up for lost time. Soon he could do little more than sit and glare across the room, clenching his fists as he concentrated on his slow thin breaths. The sicker he became, the closer the veil drew in around the room, rejuvenating Silas’s own body as Bandermain’s gave way, and allowing him to connect with his crow far across the water once again.
Silas caught a glimpse of Kate and Edgar, both filthy and covered in black soot. He saw the Blackwatch’s boat, the river and eventually the moon as the boat passed quietly beneath it. He could feel the gentle threads of the veil reaching down to Kate, curling around her but unable to fully connect, then he saw her hand resting within Edgar’s and began to consider whether what Dalliah had said about the two of them could actually be possible.
The air felt different there in Albion, heavy and familiar, as if a blanket had been laid across the world. The Continent was bare and empty in comparison, but even though Silas recognised the feeling of home there was something not quite right about it. He allowed his concentration to lift and wander and then he sensed something else within the veil: a presence that hummed in his mind like a beetle caught within his ear.
It felt as if his mind was passing through clear air that was slowly being devoured by thick black smoke. The source of it came from somewhere in the east. The boundary between the veil and the living world was being worn away. The difference between the two was no longer so easy to sense. Silas could see gatherings of shades congregating at points where the veil was at its thinnest. He could feel their excitement, sense their anticipation as the living world moved nearer and nearer to their grasp.
Silas opened his eyes to the sound of the door opening as Dalliah walked into the room. Outside, the storm had passed, and the land beyond the uncurtained window was already shrouded in night. The veil had made him lose time. He had left himself vulnerable. He stood up at once, but Bandermain remained slumped in his chair.
‘We are ready,’ s
aid Dalliah. ‘Silas, please follow me. And help Bandermain to walk if he cannot manage alone.’
Silas did not want to help Bandermain and Bandermain had no intention of accepting any help. He heaved himself up off his chair and slung his heavy sword stubbornly across his back. Silas stood aside to let him hobble out of the room first and Bandermain was too ill to protest.
Curiosity carried Silas out of the house and back into Dalliah’s overgrown land. High walls surrounded it on all sides, each one covered with the skeletal stems of climbing plants that spidered across the stones, and the ground was cobbled between patches of frozen grass.
Wintercraft: Blackwatch Page 19
