"For those of you who aren't infected, those who are going to say, no, we can't fight, they'll release more dust, they'll attack us, that it's better to wait it out like a bad storm. Let me remind you: they come back. They'll take all us Blues, and use us up, and throw us away, and then they'll have a little breather and start all over again. No-one can think that's a good idea. This is a war. And they tricked you into not fighting."
He darted a quick look at Fisher, and took a deep breath.
"Moths. Because I'm only talking to you thanks to Théoden, I want to make an offer to others like him, those Moths who don't want, never wanted this...slaughter. We are going to hunt you down. Those bodies you're wearing belong to someone else. But if you turn yourself in, if you surrender to us and take that huge risk of dying so that the Blue you're riding can be free, then we won't attack if you survive. I don't know what the hell we'll do with you after – put you on an island? But...anyway."
His chin jerked up, as if he was still unravelling the implications of his offer. Then his stance shifted, not the king returning, nor Pan, cocksure and defiant, but a cold, angry declaration.
"Finally, for those of you who did this to us, for the Remade. Fuck you. We'll dance on your graves."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Half an hour before dawn Madeleine was trying not to break her ankle. Even though they'd circled around to the relatively clear eastern side of the park, entering from College Street, the debris of the Spire's arrival formed a black obstacle course of tree trunks and torn earth, to be navigated by touch and hope.
"Team Dragon and Defenders, stop around here," Noi called in a carrying whisper. "Spire Squad, you get into position first, then the Defenders will shift into place around you. Good luck."
Madeleine's searching hands encountered a metal face, and she bit back a gasp even as she realised it had to be one of the statues from the Archibald Fountain. She slid down to sit in a small depression behind it, glad to be out of the rising wind. Sydney nights in early May were jacket weather, cool not icy, but her fits of sleep hadn't fully balanced excessive spirit punching, and the urge to curl into a ball and sob was rising.
During the last half hour Fisher and Noi had worked rapidly through endless pre-battle issues which would never have occurred to Madeleine. Release timers and mirror-sites for the four videos, drawing on Nash, Min and others to write quick introductions in multiple languages, asking viewers to redistribute and subtitle. Choosing the north-east corner of the park because it was not bordered by residential buildings, and the bulk of the Spire would hide them from early risers in the hotels. Escape routes for those staying on Green guard duty, and transport strategies for the fighters, should running become the only option. Distribution of laptops to watch the progress of the challenge, and spotters with torches to signal if the Core came through from the south-west side. Rope, for those standing at the edge of what would become a huge pit. The need to remove the webcam in Saint Marys Cathedral.
Haron was in charge of the Spire Squad: fifty Blues who were going to try to give an alien tower a heart attack. The Defenders, led by Sarah, would do everything they could to keep attacking Blues and Greens away from Haron's team. A trio with varying levels of medical knowledge waited with first aid kits out on the footpath, and there was even a pair optimistically cooking up enormous vats of soup back at the hotel. The Musketeers and leech Blues, forming the majority of Team Dragon, would try to deal with the returning Core and his large glowing mount.
Emily, who had been following close behind, tucked in beside Madeleine in the shelter of the statue, and whispered: "I'm sorry for being angry with you."
Having completely missed Emily being angry, Madeleine shifted in confusion, then shrugged mentally and curled an arm around the girl's waist. "I'm sorry for making you angry." She also wished she could send Emily off to safety. Thirteen was so young. But there was a drive in the girl to fight which held little of bravado, had a level of necessity.
"I think it's a bad idea, what Pan said," the girl added. "Letting any of them live. E-even if there are a couple of nice ones, how will we know? It could be one of the horrible ones, just trying to get away with it."
"Their – the Blues would be able to tell us that, wouldn't they?" Madeleine had been dismayed by Pan's offer of amnesty, and yet glad of it. "So far it's been very rare for any of the non-Reborn to survive separation, anyway."
A scrambling noise rescued Madeleine from a subject she wasn't certain she could face, and Noi, only a few feet away, said: "Any problems?"
"Do stubbed toes count?" Min, who had been sent to take care of the webcam, eased into a spot near Madeleine and Emily. "I just shifted the angle upward, rather than turning it off. Can't guarantee those two kids will stay there though. It's mad the number of people round here who want to play hero."
"You say that, but I remember you running back trying to rescue me," Noi pointed out.
"Heat of the moment," Min's voice was dismissive. "And not exactly effective."
"Does that make a difference? I hope those two stay put – maybe we should send someone back in there to keep an eye on them."
Ari and Tia, their youngest Blues, had been assigned camera duties, filming the battle in the hopes of passing on dragon-fighting techniques – and keeping the pair out of a fight they were keen to join. Madeleine's primary feeling about her own involvement in the coming battle was dread combined with resignation, and an impatience for it to be done. To know whether the Spires would fall, and what that victory would cost them.
"Challenge is finishing up," Noi said tersely. "They'll keep to the pecking order heading back, so we're on schedule. Millie, come keep an eye on the feed for me."
Emily clambered over to the shielded hollow Noi was using to hide the glow of the laptop. Once she was there, Noi balanced on top of a fallen tree trunk, and held a torch high, turning it on and off three times in rapid succession. After a pause, she jumped down.
"Haron's team's in place. Defenders are heading in. Count off the entries that you see, Millie, and let me know when you get to fifty, and then eighty. And everyone eat something."
The Ul-naa were hundred and fifth in the primacy. That was a lot of dragons to fly on home, and Madeleine doubted Sydney's Core would return before dawn. She sighed, and tucked her hands into her armpits as Noi curled down beside her.
"I said eat."
"I have been. Everyone keeps trying to feed me."
"Yeah. Well." Noi evidently chose not to point out that Madeleine had spent most of the last few hours either unconscious or trying to hide in her cousin's armpit.
"Why was Emily angry with me?"
"Because it didn't happen to you. Because you escaped it."
The certainty of Noi's answer meant she'd probably already discussed this with Emily. Or perhaps felt the same way.
"Was – was it very bad?"
Noi didn't answer immediately, and Madeleine again felt the new gulf between them.
"It hurt all the time." The words came slowly, each an obvious effort. "Almost like shield-paralysis combined with the pins and needles afterwards. Not so sharp, but never ending. This – this constant, swooping distress of trying to move, to speak, and nothing. And suffocated by its presence. Sat on. That without even considering what your it is like, and what it's doing with you."
Regretting asking, Madeleine slid closer, and Noi leaned against her, shaking. But then, in an exhibition of sheer determination, the shorter girl's breathing eased, and she straightened, taking Madeleine's hand instead.
"Fifty," Emily said, and all around them came the faintest rustle of anticipation. Soon. Fighting, killing.
"Do you think Pan was wrong?" Madeleine asked. "To offer amnesty?"
"No. I hate the idea, but the alternative is..."
Genocide. A hard word to link to your own goals.
"Pan says his Moth was mostly frightened," Noi went on. "Not someone who'd put anyone before himself, just a scared squit trying to
keep his head down. I'd still kill every single one of them to free the Blues they're riding, but...well...there's a bit more nuance to my attitude thanks to Fisher's little speech."
Fisher's recording had left Madeleine struggling to hide tears, grateful but perhaps even less able to deal with the tangle between them. At least he seemed to share her immediate need for avoidance, staying at a careful distance.
"He is distinctly different, isn't he?" Noi added, tone low, edged with sympathy. "I asked Nash and Pan how they could not notice he was possessed. They thought he'd gone suddenly polite wanting to impress you."
Not knowing how to respond, Madeleine simply hunched her shoulders, and after a pause Noi said quietly: "I owe you an apology."
"What for?"
"I did kind of encourage you into bed with him."
"Oh." It was like a jab to a wound, sudden and shocking for all they'd been talking around the subject. "No, don't be sorry. I'm not, not for that." She recognised a truth spoken, even though her throat immediately locked with unshed tears. "I was so happy," she said, struggling to get the words out. "It fell into a flaming heap, and I want to crawl under a rock, but I can't regret it. I'd never been happier in my life."
Noi's hand tightened on hers, then relaxed, and they sat connected by loosely linked fingers, waiting out the slow degrees of dawn. The Cathedral roof became a black silhouette against a pale sky, and, faintly, Nash murmured a Hindu prayer.
"Eighty."
"Right." Noi stood, and signalled again with her torch. "Keep counting, Millie, and let us know when you hit a hundred, but from this point on we're assuming it could be any moment."
Noi wasn't quite able to keep a hint of breathlessness from her voice, an awareness of how critical the moment was, and the consequences of failure. Madeleine stood as well, and tried to look at the Spire. South-west, its base was little more than an impression of depth, though its upper reaches stood out spear-sharp. Even on its own it was a difficult thing to encompass, and she struggled to frame the whole truth of it – not a ship, not a building, but a kind of spike or tentacle of a creature so vast it must look like a mountain range, clawing an alien sky.
Feeling cold and wobbly, she searched through the increasingly visible shapes around her until she found Tyler, incongruously seated on a park bench which had survived and remained upright. It rocked a little as she sat beside him, but it was a good place to collect herself. Lost in his own thoughts Tyler didn't speak, but gave her a small smile, and Madeleine recognised that even after years of having little to do with her cousin they retained the simple acceptance of family. Noi, along with so many millions of people, had lost that completely.
"Hey, Maddie, what's the name of that statue?" Pan, poking his head over her shoulder, pointed at the bronze figure Noi was leaning against. The gloom had lifted enough to reveal a woman armed with a bow, kneeling beside the mashed remains of a stag.
"It's the Roman goddess, Diana."
That imp's grin lit up the morning. "Thought so." He bounced across to Noi. "You know, Wonder Woman's real name is Diana. I'd call that a sign."
Noi almost visibly dragged her thoughts out from under the shadow of the Spire. "If that means spandex in our near future, I want a different sign."
Pan took Noi's hand and swung it gently. "You don't need a costume to be super."
"One hundred."
Noi flashed the torch again, and everyone held their breath. Madeleine found herself looking away from the Spire, at her feet, at Tyler, at the faces of the Musketeers. Fisher.
"Now!"
The shout was scattered, a dozen different voices. Madeleine stood and immediately spotted the ribbon of light, a dandelion dragon come home with the dawn, but it was impossible see whether Haron's squad had succeeded. Whether they'd taken those few moments when the shield was down to press forward, thrust their hands against the Spire and blast it, a united punch intended to stun a mountain.
"Work," Noi muttered. "Work, work, wo–"
The Spire screamed. There was no other word for it. Electronic dissonance at a thousand decibels. Madeleine, hands over her ears, was moving back to the statue, all her attention focused on the curling ribbon of light swooping in a tight circle over the southern section of the park, and then coming to a near-halt, dozens of gossamer wings fanning. It was too far for her to clearly see the riders, but she could just make out the shape of them. Three people, one of whom was Gavin, who had driven to her rescue in his apple-green car.
The attackers' position in the north-east corner bought them time, with the Spire blocking the Core's view of those closest to its base, and the more widely scattered attackers sticking close to their chosen pieces of rubble. But already the dragon was moving, a swift arc north along Elizabeth Street, and then a slow drift toward the Spire from the park's north-west corner, approaching the double line of Blues pulsing measured punches into the velvety surface.
"Get ready," Noi said, barely audible over the continuing unearthly scream.
Madeleine nodded, resting her hands on the statue's outstretched arm, tracking the glowing creature's movements. The tactics Noi and Haron had recommended for dragon slaying were not greatly different to the Rover fight. The dragon had some shielding, and would gain strength from force punches. They needed to keep it still long enough for the leech Blues to drain it. Quite a task when it was currently drifting about sixty metres above the ground, searching the shadows. Stopping the attack on the Spire would be the Core's first priority, and a great deal depended on what he chose to do when he spotted the Spire Squad. The best option for the freed Blues would be for the Core to pick up speed and circle the Spire, returning to sweep through the people at the base. But he might drop immediately down toward them, or try to blast them with punches from dragon-back.
"All for one, guys," Pan shouted over the scream of the Spire, hopping up to balance on the mashed stag.
"All for one!" the Musketeers responded, quite as if they'd rehearsed it. One of the figures on the dragon's back looked toward them.
Around them, others picked up the cry, a scattered echo across the park which united and became a chant, a roar.
"All for one!"
"All For One!"
"ALL FOR ONE!"
For Théoden, Madeleine told herself as layers of gauzy wing beat into a faster pace, and the dragon whisked into a diving curve, crossing directly between the Musketeers and the Spire.
Madeleine punched. Full force, everything she had.
Her target was not the dragon's body, but below it, into the downbeat of its wings. The weakest point, with the least capacity for shielding or absorption. Diaphanous sails shredded into fragments of light, and the punch continued onward to strike the Spire, one more blow against the mountain. The dragon's swift arc spun out of control, and it zagged suddenly left, dropping into trees to the south.
Madeleine sagged, hooking her arm around the statue's in order to keep upright, while all around her there was an immediate scramble after their target.
"Stick with your partners!" Noi yelled. "Don't rush in – regroup on the road." She paused to grab Madeleine's shoulder. "Follow when you can." Then she was gone.
Alone in the pre-dawn twilight, Madeleine staggered back to Tyler's bench and flopped down, nearly overturning it in the process. The sudden decrease of the great roil of power within left her feeling chilled and vulnerable. Her hands were shaking.
The Spire continued to scream, shredding nerves exposed by cold, but she made herself ignore it, to take deep, even breaths until she felt that she could walk without falling. She didn't feel ready to fight, but she could get closer to her friends, in reach so she could act when spots stopped swimming before her eyes.
Although she could now see almost clearly, it took care and effort to cross the uneven ground to the road, and she sat down in the gutter for a little while, searching anxiously down the road for signs of her friends. She couldn't even make out the light of the dragon, and with the noise the Spi
re was making she was struggling to hear anything of use. Even the small medical team had vanished.
Standing, she checked back to the base of the Spire, and saw that on the far side of the park there was already fighting. Just a handful of people so far, but more streaming from one of the hotels, racing down Elizabeth Street. Gritting her teeth, she started trotting in the opposite direction, down College Street, searching the trees ahead for signs of battle. A dragon shouldn't be so hard to spot.
Passing the far end of the Cathedral, she glanced to her left across the paved forecourt and over the eastern suburbs. The first gleam of gold had touched the horizon. How long could the Spire Squad keep pounding the mountain? Were they feeling as drained as she? Haron hadn't been sure how long it would take, or how quickly the Spire would recover if they failed to bring it down.
Turning, Madeleine met the eyes of a familiar, strawberry blonde boy skirting the edge of the trees.
She drew breath – to shout, or take some action – but he was too quick for her, force punching immediately. Her automatic shield kept her whole, but the blow was so strong she was blasted off her feet, too stunned to bring up a second shield as a cushion as she tumbled down a short, flat flight of stairs leading to the main forecourt.
Caught in that moment between being injured and knowing exactly what hurt, Madeleine levered herself to knees and one elbow, but another force punch hit her square in the back and she went down. Her shield was strong enough to keep the punch itself from breaking her to pieces, but not to prevent bruising impact with granite pavers. A third punch hit her, and the stone around her cracked.
And All the Stars Page 26
