Silas saw what she was doing, unhooked one of the few oil lamps and threw it into the centre of the creeping mass. Glass smashed, oil spread and flames burst into life, searing the tiny creatures before they could advance any further. Silas threw another lamp towards Edgar, setting fire to the sleeve of Bandermain’s red coat, and a third smashed at Kate’s feet, forcing her back, away from the growing flames.
‘Stop!’ Kate screamed, as Silas smashed a fourth lamp dangerously close to Edgar’s head, sending glass shards sprinkling across his wild dark hair. ‘He’s not dead! He can’t be dead!’
Silas’s skin was slick with sweat. Between the creeping lung and Dalliah’s manipulation of the veil, he was not thinking clearly. The crow flapped its wings restlessly as Silas grew weaker, but Bandermain’s body had to be burned. Nothing else mattered but making sure every last one of those creatures was dead.
Dalliah pulled Kate towards the door. ‘Listen to me,’ she said, her voice pouring into Kate’s ear like poison. ‘As long as you are alive the people around you will always be in danger. You do not want that. I can see that your friend’s pain disturbs you, but you are not strong enough to help him now. Leave him, come with me, and I will help you bring an end to this. You do not belong with him any more. You belong with me. I will show you the way. Let me help you. Let us do what needs to be done.’
Kate struggled to keep her eyes open as Dalliah’s words washed over her, and her cheeks were damp with tears. ‘I have to help him,’ she said. ‘I have to bring him back. Edgar!’ She could hear Dalliah’s veil-voice whispering quietly beneath her spoken words. She saw Edgar’s chest rise and fall as he breathed in painful breaths, choking on the smoke that had begun to spread around the circular room.
Silas fell to his knees, willing himself to stand but no longer possessing the strength. Whatever Dalliah was doing, Kate knew she held all their lives in her hands. She was the only one who could stop this. Kate could give Dalliah everything she wanted; all she had to do was say yes.
‘I couldn’t bind that man’s soul,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t right. I couldn’t do it.’
‘Everything can be overcome,’ Dalliah said carefully. ‘No plan rests on the shoulders of one person alone. We will not suffer too badly for his loss.’
Kate turned to face her. ‘I’ll come with you,’ she said, firmly wiping her tears away. ‘I will. Whatever’s wrong with the veil, I want to help you put it right.’
‘No,’ said Silas, his voice rasping, but still strong. ‘She is lying to you, Kate. Do not listen to her.’
‘Your ancestors wrote Wintercraft for you,’ said Dalliah. ‘But you have not seen everything it has to teach you. There are secrets within its pages that you will never discover without me. I will teach you, and soon you will know everything your family knew; everything I already know. I will hide nothing from you, Kate. Silas has had his time. He is the one who destroyed your life. He stole everything from you. Do not allow him to steal your future as well.’
As Dalliah held Kate’s hand, her mind began to clear again. She began to feel comfortable and safe, and Dalliah’s presence gave her a feeling of belonging that she had not felt for a very long time.
‘Come with me.’
Kate allowed Dalliah to lead her towards the door, away from Silas, away from Edgar.
‘It is too late for them, but their spirits will not be lost. They will remain bound to this place, just like all the other souls I have collected. This is the way it is meant to be. You can trust me, Kate.’ The veil-voice echoed Dalliah’s words. ‘Trust me.’
Kate found herself nodding slowly in agreement. Dalliah stepped carefully across the symbol-etched floor, crossed the carvings that glowed in the firelight and pulled Kate out into the open night.
The Blackwatch and their carriage were waiting outside. Dalliah forced Kate into the lead officer’s hands and he held her tightly, preventing her from going back inside.
‘Where is Bandermain?’ he asked. ‘Did the girl succeed?’
‘Your commander is dead,’ said Dalliah. ‘The girl is not to blame. His disease was too far advanced. If you had found her sooner he would have stood a better chance.’
The officer signalled for his men to investigate. One of them entered the smoke-filled building, holding his sleeve over his mouth and nose, and emerged moments later.
‘Three bodies,’ he said. ‘Blood everywhere.’
‘Bodies?’ Kate’s voice was a whisper. He was wrong. He had to be wrong.
‘Your commander fought with his last breath,’ said Dalliah. ‘He lost one battle, but he will carry a greater victory into his grave. He claimed the life of Silas Dane. Celador Bandermain is a hero.’
The Blackwatch officer considered Dalliah’s words and bowed his head with respect. ‘Then I must thank you for your efforts,’ he said. ‘Your attempts to save his life will not be forgotten. Bandermain’s name will live on.’
‘I’m sure it will,’ Dalliah said quickly. ‘He was willing to do what had to be done for the good of his country. Will you continue the work we planned together in honour of his name?’
The officer stood to attention. ‘Of course.’
‘Good. Then order your men to burn this place down. Burn the house. Burn everything. Our plan remains unchanged.’
‘You can’t do that! Edgar is in there!’ Kate struggled to free herself but the two Blackwatch guards were already lighting torches and crossing the courtyard to set fire to the main house. ‘No. Wait!’ she cried. ‘You have to get them out! Silas!’ No one was listening to her. A thousand thoughts were battling for her attention at once, but all Kate saw were the flames licking higher and smoke pouring out of the domed building’s door as Dalliah turned her back upon it.
‘I require your carriage and your ship,’ she said.
‘Yes, my lady. My men will assist you in any way they can.’
‘I shall require horses and a messenger bird once we reach Albion’s shores. Do you still have your men positioned within Fume?’
‘Yes, my lady. Everything is ready.’
‘Then let us begin.’
The Blackwatch leader forced Kate up into the carriage and he and Dalliah climbed in on either side of her as the great black house glowed with inner firelight.
‘We can’t just leave them!’
Dalliah rested her hand on Kate’s wrist, the veil-voice crept through her mind and she felt herself giving in, watching the house’s windows bursting in the heat of the growing flames and listening to the crackle of the circular building as its wooden frame split and burned.
‘Edgar,’ Kate whispered, but Dalliah’s touch slowed her thoughts until she was no longer sure why she had said his name. She did not know why she was crying, or why the rising flames made her stomach knot with fear.
She watched through the carriage window as the two Blackwatch guards returned, walking straight through the pouring smoke like ghosts and climbing up into two seats at the front of the carriage.
‘We shall reach our homeland soon,’ said Dalliah, her voice gentle and eerily reassuring. ‘It has been many years since I set foot upon Albion soil. This time I intend to stay.’
Once the two guards were back on board, the reins snapped and the horses sped swiftly to a trot, pulling the carriage away from the rising fires. They stopped just once to let the dark-haired guard open the gates and climb back on board, and then they were off, heading out deep into the forest. Kate watched the icicle-laden trees flash by in the evening light, their transparent fingers sparking like crystal as the carriage disturbed them, knocking them loose to smash upon the frozen ground.
The moment Dalliah passed out of the gate her connection with the energy in the circular building was broken. The energies fell, and Kate looked back as fire engulfed everything in the distance until all she could see was the glow of the flames.
‘Do not worry about the past,’ said Dalliah. ‘We carry everything we need with us wherever we go. We need nothing else.
Don’t you agree?’
‘Yes,’ said Kate, but the word felt alien to her. She felt as if she was forgetting something, but she no longer knew what.
‘Work the horses harder,’ Dalliah ordered. The Blackwatch leader relayed the message to the driver and Dalliah smiled at Kate when the forest swallowed the burning buildings and she turned away from the window at last. ‘I want to be at sea within the day.’
22
Fate
As soon as Dalliah’s link to the circle was broken, Silas’s broken spirit plunged back into his body and he forced his eyes open. He was on his side, lying beneath a thick layer of darkening smoke, and something was pecking at his nose. Firelight flickered gently across his crow’s black feathers as it tried to wake him and flames were devouring the wooden walls, leaving bones scattered and singed on the floor as the cords holding them burned and snapped. Close by, Bandermain’s clothes smouldered upon his lifeless body. His red coat was fully ablaze, his face turned towards a dark shape sprawled across the floor.
Silas got slowly to his feet, his body recovering slowly as it came back under his control. He tested his injured lungs and found the pain had lessened considerably. His chest was clear. Whatever influence that room had over him had been broken by Dalliah’s absence. She had used the power of his own blood against him and he could no longer feel a single scratch or bite as he breathed in the hot black smoke. The injuries that had driven him into the darkness of the half-life were only impressions . . . manifestations, but they had felt real enough. If Silas had any doubt about the extent of Dalliah’s Skill it faded at that moment. She was a formidable woman. She had defeated him easily and she expected his body to burn, leaving his broken spirit lost within the veil for eternity.
There was enough of the veil’s influence left within the room to repel the ill effects of the smoke and Silas walked straight through it, making his way over to the dark shape lying beside Bandermain. He walked round his enemy’s burning body and crouched down beside Edgar. The boy was not moving. Silas lifted one of his arms up, hoisted him over his shoulder and carried him to the door. One hard kick was enough to send it splaying out on its hinges, feeding more air to the fire inside.
Silas carried Edgar out into the courtyard and saw Dalliah’s black house being torn apart by flames as he laid Edgar on the ground.
‘Owwww . . .’ Edgar groaned and his eyelids flickered. Silas pulled his eyes open with his thumbs.
‘How many of your nine lives do you have left now, Mr Rill?’
Edgar coughed weakly.
‘Keep still,’ said Silas, carefully inspecting the dagger wound. ‘You have lost a lot of blood. I can stop the bleeding but I cannot heal you here. It looks as if you hit your head when you fell. I thought you were dead.’
‘Where’s . . . Kate?’
‘Gone,’ said Silas, opening Edgar’s bloodstained coat and tearing strips of fabric from the jumpers underneath.
‘Dalliah took her?’
Silas pressed the fabric strips against the dagger wound. ‘The wound is a clean one,’ he said. ‘If the blood clots quickly enough you should survive.’
‘Should?’
‘We have more important concerns.’
‘I’d say this was pretty important! Ow!’
‘I will find Kate. You will stay here.’
‘I’m all right!’ lied Edgar, trying to stand. ‘I can walk.’
‘Goodbye, Mr Rill.’
‘What? Wait!’
Silas left Edgar on the ground and strode through the smoke towards the open gate.
‘Silas?’
Edgar’s shouts carried across Dalliah’s land. Silas ignored him. The boy was unimportant. All that mattered was reaching Kate before Dalliah took her out to sea.
His boots thumped into the gravel, carrying him out through the gates, where he stopped and searched for something he hoped would still be there. Movement to his right made him turn and a large eye blinked at him from the darkness. The horse he had stolen from the stables in Grale was standing calmly in the trees. His crow took flight, flapping up into the branches overhead while Silas stepped towards the animal and rubbed its wide nose. ‘A beast without fear,’ he said. ‘I was right.’ Silas’s touch calmed the horse and he leapt smoothly up on to its back. ‘So much for fate,’ he said, guiding the horse swiftly back out on to the path.
The pair of dead trees loomed over him as he rode towards the crossroads leading back towards Grale. The town lay to the north, Dalliah’s house to the east. He still had time. All he had to do was ride . . . but then his thoughts turned to Edgar: an injured man, left bleeding and alone on enemy land. The horse gave him an advantage. It gave him speed. No matter what else was at stake, his conscience would not let him leave a fallen man behind.
Edgar heard the echo of hooves pounding across the ground and blinked into the darkness, half expecting the Blackwatch to have sent someone back to finish him off. A great beast thundered towards him. He managed to stand, but the dagger wound blazed and his head swam. He had done his best. He had tried to help Kate, and if he was going to die there he would at least die on his feet knowing he could have done no more. Then the rider slowed the horse to a walk and circled round him, holding an arm out for him to take.
‘You may not be able to run, Mr Rill,’ said Silas, ‘but you can ride.’
Edgar could not believe what he was seeing. He reached up and grabbed Silas’s hand, and let him heave him up on to the back of the horse.
‘Hold on,’ said Silas, and Edgar clutched the belt of his leather coat, clinging on tight.
The horse turned back towards the forest and raced into a gallop, speeding towards the trail through the trees. The path to Grale ran downhill most of the way, and at the few points where the trees were thinnest and the trail ran due west, Silas caught brief glimpses of moonlight sparkling upon the surface of the sea. Dalliah’s carriage had a head start, but his horse was well rested and its hooves thumped into the dirt at a thundering pace. The track wound tightly between the trees and the horse raced on, finding extra speed as he guided it down the path.
The sky lightened into a mist-filled morning. The horse slowed to a steady pace, but by the time they reached the edge of Grale Dalliah’s carriage was still nowhere in sight. Silas knew the Blackwatch would be watching the main routes into the town so he took a sharp turn off the forest road, sending the horse plunging through the trees and out into Grale’s back streets.
Edgar’s grip grew weaker as they rode over a river bridge, heading for the dock, until his fingers slipped completely at a tight corner and Silas had to grab hold of his arm to stop him from sliding off. He could not afford to slow the horse, but Edgar was unconscious. His condition was far worse than Silas had thought. The dock wasn’t far. He could hold Edgar until then, but if he died before they reached it the delay he had caused by helping him would have been for nothing.
Behind Silas, in the distance, plumes of smoke and flame reached towards the sky from Dalliah’s burning house. He looked for his crow and spotted it flying high above him, matching the horse’s speed. It circled down, close enough to hear Silas speak. ‘Follow the girl,’ he said. ‘Do not leave her side.’
Edgar was slipping further from the horse and Silas had to make a choice. Stop and help him, or let him fall. The crow flew over the rooftops, heading for the ship, whose sails were already being unfurled. The carriage must have reached the dock, but the ship would not set sail immediately. There was still time.
He slowed the horse to a stop, lowered Edgar to the ground and slid down beside him. His breathing was shallow and his back was wet with blood. ‘This is not the best time for you to die.’ Silas glanced up at the ship as he rolled Edgar on to his side, and his fingers tingled with cold as the veil gathered around them, preparing to take Edgar into death. He pressed his hand to Edgar’s neck, trying to channel what little energy he could reach to help the wound heal. Nothing happened. The veil was too weak, his connection to it
thin and fading.
Silas tried to concentrate, but he was too distracted. He could leave the boy and make it on to the ship before it sailed. He was all but dead anyway. Nothing would be lost. Letting him go would be the sensible thing to do, all he had to do was walk away, yet he still kept his hand against Edgar’s neck, cursing the boy’s weakness under his breath, his impatience building with every second his body remained still. Then at last, the veil answered. The blood within Edgar’s wound began to clot and the flesh knitted slowly. Edgar’s body trembled, his chest began to move and his pulse quickened to a steady pace.
Silas grabbed hold of Edgar’s shoulders. ‘Can you hear me?’ he asked. ‘Can you move?’
Edgar opened his eyes, his strength returning, as a clear bell rang from the dock and the Blackwatch ship began moving out into open sea. Silas stared out towards the ocean. He was too late.
Wintercraft: Blackwatch Page 24