The Blood Debt: Books of the Cataclysm Two

by Sean Williams

  “The mysterious ‘sink room,’ perhaps.”

  “Let's find out.”

  Their pace slowed to a bare creep. Kail extinguished the pocket-mirror. A faint pinkish glow came from the end of the tunnel. Sal paid close attention to his physical senses. If there was someone waiting for them, they were silent, and much cleaner than the lookout.

  Kail paused at the entrance for several breaths, watching and listening closely, then waved Sal forward.

  “What do you make of this?”

  Sal edged over the threshold by degrees. The room consisted of little more than a cave with rough floor, ceiling, and walls. The air hung thick and heavily within it, despite two other entrances that opened from the far side. The pink glow came from a fat stalagmite that crouched to one side, its flanks creamy and smooth, and perfectly dry. The source of the light wasn't the stone, but many knuckle-shaped objects embedded in the stone, like fragments of glass stuck in a slumped candle. They came in several sizes, from a baby's fist up to a melon. Sal circled the stalagmite to get a better look. In the utter heart of the Change-sink, his eyes strained to make out any detail at all.

  “What is this made of?” he asked. “Bone?”

  “They're glowing,” stated Kail unnecessarily. The pink light was actually many different shades mixed together, including blues, greens, and purples.

  “It looks like opal.” Sal reached out a finger to touch one of the objects, but pulled back with a hiss. The tip of his finger had gone numb.

  “I've seen fossils made of opal before.” Kail's eyes traced out the curve made by the objects in the stone. “This could have been the spine of a snake, perhaps. A sea-snake.”

  “Maybe. What it is now concerns me more.”

  “Definitely the heart of the sink.”

  “I think so, too.”

  “Perhaps we should break it.” Kail reached into his pack and pulled out a knife. “We need an advantage, and this might just provide us with one.”

  He worried at one of the smaller fragments at the base of the stalagmite, forcing the blade into the soft limestone and wriggling it back and forth. The blade bent, but nothing gave.

  “Try that one,” said Sal, pointing. “There's a crack. See it?”

  Kail shifted his attention to the fragment Sal suggested. The blade slipped into the crack and immediately popped out a section of stone. Progress was swift from there. With a grunt of satisfaction, Kail scooped out a thumb-sized opalescent jewel into one hand and held it up to his eye.

  “Still glowing.”

  And the sink was undiminished. “Oh, well. Worth a try.”

  “Maybe if we give it some distance—”

  The sound of footsteps came from one of the other entrances, quickly followed by voices. Kail grabbed Sal's arm and hurried him into the smallest of the tunnel mouths. The finger he held to his lips was lit by the fragment still in his hand. The light then disappeared into one of his pockets. Kail shook his fingers to bring the circulation back.

  “—should have been watching the east side,” the louder of the two voices was saying as it grew nearer. “Find him and tell him I said to get his act together. We haven't got time to fuck around.”

  “And if I don't find him?”

  “Then you make sure whatever happened to him doesn't happen to you as well. Is that clear enough for you?”

  “Yes, Pirelius.”

  Two men entered the sink room. There they split up. One, the smaller of the two, took the corridor Sal and Kail had come down. The other brushed past the entrance in which Sal and Kail were hiding and took the remaining way. Two sets of heavy footsteps receded in different directions.

  “The enterprising Pirelius.” Kail's voice was little more than an exhalation. “According to the directions our friend gave us, he's heading for the dungeon.”

  “We'd better follow, then.”

  “Keep an eye on our tail. I don't want that other guy doubling back and catching us.”

  Sal nodded. They trailed Pirelius to the place where the lookout had said the others were being kept. Their progress was rapid. Sal was acutely conscious of how visible they were from either end of the long, straight tunnel. Voices came from ahead. Kail slowed as they approached it.

  “Planning something?” Pirelius bellowed at some hapless lackey. “Of course they'll try, but what do you think they're going to do, exactly? They don't have the Change; they don't have any weapons; two of them can barely even stand. The most they can hope for is that you'll do something else stupid and give them a chance. Now get in there and find out what's happened to the boy!”

  Sal heard a shove and the scuffle of feet on dirt. He and Kail reached the entranceway in time to see Pirelius following a pigtailed man out of a small antechamber into what was obviously the dungeon proper. The air was thick with smoke, but that couldn't hide the odour of human degradation. The antechamber contained several tables and cabinets. Items scattered on the tables had a horrible look about them: leather stained with brown splatters; corroded metal tools ending in sharp hooks and points.

  A conversation ensued in the dungeon. Sal couldn't make out the barked orders, but he did recognise a voice speaking in response.

  “Skender's in there,” Sal hissed. “We have to get him out.”

  Kail nodded. “We can either pull back and plan something for later, or jump them now. There are only two of them, after all.”

  “That we know of.”

  “And they might be armed.” The tracker's expression was torn. “I don't like this situation one bit. We're exposed here and at a disadvantage. We can't take too long to decide.”

  Something niggled at Sal, but he couldn't put his finger on it. “I think we should have a plan before barging in. We don't want to get ourselves trapped.”

  Kail nodded again. “Right. Timing is the better part of triumph.”

  They retreated up the tunnel, Sal forcing himself not to think that he was abandoning his friend. They would return for Skender just as soon as it was safe to do so. “Safe” being a highly relative term, of course. He and Kail had infiltrated right into the heart of enemy territory. They were significantly outnumbered, and only Kail had anything like the experience required. If only, Sal thought, they could call for help.

  The wish brought to the foreground that which had only nagged at him before. His senses tingled as they reconnected to the world around him. The Change was returning!

  Before he could tell Kail, the tracker froze. Ahead of them, a silhouette had appeared at the end of the tunnel.

  “Someone's coming!” Kail hissed, turning. “Get back!”

  Before either of them could move, a blood-curdling scream from the dungeon froze Sal's feet to the floor.

  Skender heard voices outside the dungeon. The Homunculus stepped away from him, its form shifting fluidly as two people inside one artificial body moved in slightly different ways. It reminded him of a shadow with a solid, well-defined central core and a nebulous penumbra. The penumbra seemed to interact perfectly normally with the inanimate world—the ground, Kail's bola, the bars of the cage—but when it came to people, something else entirely happened.

  “It's will,” one of the twins had said, half of the Homunculus's double mouth moving at odds with the other half. “You possess will, so we have to work together to touch you.”

  “We've been together for so long,” said the other half, “it sometimes takes more effort not to work together.”

  They explained that they had first noticed the effect with Highson Sparre. Skender hadn't entirely understood the explanation but he was prepared to accept it for now. As long as it worked as he hoped it might. Sometimes intuition was enough.

  Pirelius swaggered into the room, followed closely by Rattails.

  “What? Not dead yet?” The bandit leader sauntered casually up to Skender's cage. “Looks like you and the monster have become entirely too chummy. Get him out of there.”

  Pirelius turned away, leaving Rattails to look
uncertainly from him to the cage and back again.

  “How?”

  “Go in there and drag him out, of course.”

  “That won't be necessary,” said Skender. “I'll cooperate.” He walked through the open bars to the neighbouring cage, the one the twins had previously occupied, and closed the gate between them.

  “Good rabbit,” said Rattails with undisguised relief.

  “You don't get off so easily, you idiot.” Pirelius cuffed the jailer across the head. “The door between them is still unlocked. You're going to lock it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want you to. And because I don't trust them. They're definitely up to something, as you said. Let's not give them a chance to show us what it is.”

  Rattails gulped, considering his options. The locking mechanism for the cell Skender had just vacated was above the connecting door. Rattails would have to get into the cell with the twins to seal Skender in.

  The Homunculus watched from the back of its cell, eyes coming and going as the twins’ postures shifted.

  “Not a terribly sensible design,” said Skender. “Did you build them yourself?”

  “Found them here when we moved in. They were animal cages, appropriately enough.” Pirelius's stare was decidedly unfriendly. “Swap cells.”

  “Or else?”

  “Or I'll kill your friend over here.” Pirelius indicated Kemp, watching silently with a worried look on his face.

  “I thought you said he was dangerous.”

  “That's not the same thing as valuable. We have too many mouths to feed around here as it is.”

  Skender shrugged and did as he was told. When he was done, the twins went through the door in the opposite direction.

  “Now we're getting somewhere. In you go,” Pirelius said to Rattails, shoving him. “Keep the cage between you and it and you'll be safe enough.”

  Rattails reluctantly approached the entrance to Skender's cage, the key in his hand. “Put the stick on the floor, rabbit. Now get back and stay back.”

  Skender did as he was told, pressing himself against the cold stone at the back of the cell.

  Rattails reached above his head and unlocked the door. Swinging it open, he stepped inside. Just two paces separated him and the adjoining door, but there would be a moment when his back was turned. Rattails obviously couldn't decide who was the greater threat: Skender in the cage with him or the Homunculus just a short distance away through the bars. His eyes flicked rapidly between them. With a nervous, mincing step, he hurried across the gap and raised his hand to put the key in the lock.

  “Now!” Skender lunged forward and stooped as though to pick up the stick. Rattails jumped and turned to defend himself. Skender ignored the stick and rammed headlong into the jailer's midriff. Rattails fell backwards, taken off-guard, and slammed against the bars.

  For the moment, Skender had the upper hand. Rattails was winded and unclear what had happened. But his cunning was still intact. He hadn't dropped the key. His lips peeled back in a snarl and his fists bunched.

  Then he stiffened and went pale. The key dropped unnoticed to the floor and his hands flew up in claws to the back of his neck.

  Behind him, the twins had both pairs of arms stretched through the gaps between the bars. One of the twins reached for Rattails's neck, while the other clutched at the small of his back. All of their individual hands passed unimpeded through Rattails's body. Where their hands met inside the jailer's flesh, however, they became very substantial.

  Rattails opened his mouth and shrieked with pain. His eyes rolled up into his skull and his legs kicked out. Both arms flailed uselessly and another shriek ripped from his throat.

  It was the most awful sound Skender had ever heard. He staggered away, as surprised as anyone by the sudden transformation. He hadn't intended it to work so well.

  Movement out of the corner of his eye prompted him to stop gawping and think fast. He scooped up the key Rattails had dropped. “Keep back!” he warned Pirelius, who had lunged forward to shut the cell's outer door. “One more step and we'll rip out his spine!”

  “Have it,” Pirelius snarled. “I don't need it!”

  “No—no—no!” Rattails's scream ended on a rising, wordless note as Skender threw his weight at the cell door before it closed on them. Pirelius growled and pushed back. The bandit's superior weight was too much for Skender. His feet began to slip in the dirt floor.

  “Kemp! Quick!” Skender tossed the key past Pirelius, across the room. It skittered on the ground and landed just outside Kemp's cage. The albino snatched it up and reached through the bars for the lock.

  Pirelius roared in anger. “I'll kill you! I'll kill you all!”

  Then a very strange thing happened. A wall of fog billowed into the dungeon from the chamber outside. Thick and heavy, it was soon dense enough to hide the far side of the room from view. Everything stopped as the weirdness of the phenomenon hit home.

  Skender remembered a charm Master Warden Atilde had shown him and his friends in the Haunted City—a charm that turned dust into fog. There was plenty of dust in the Aad, but there was a profound absence of the Change. Or should have been.

  The fog roiled and thickened, bringing the muffled sounds of a commotion from the antechamber.

  Pirelius stepped away from the door. Surprised, Skender stumbled out of the cage. Thick-fingered hands went around his throat and tugged him upright. The stink of Pirelius enfolded him.

  “Skender! Can you hear me?”

  Sal's voice came out of the fog like something from a dream, but Skender could manage only a squawk in reply. He was too busy being strangled.

  “We're in here!” Kemp yelled back. “So's the Homunculus!”

  “Don't come any closer,” Pirelius shouted, “or I'll break your friend's neck!”

  “Skender?” Sal's voice grew louder. Skender dimly perceived a shadowy figure in the entranceway to the dungeon. “Skender!”

  Pirelius's fingers closed tight over his windpipe and Skender felt the world begin to grow black.

  “When you look anywhere using the Change—be it into the past or the future, or into someone's mind, or just into another place—you send part of yourself in the process. If the connection is severed, you may never get that part back. When that happens, it falls into the Void Beneath and cannot be recovered.”

  THE BOOK OF TOWERS, FRAGMENT 243

  Shilly snapped out of a daydream in the middle of the Sky Wardens’ meeting at the sound of Sal's voice in her mind: “Carah—we're in the Aad and we've found the Homunculus. We need your help!”

  She bolted upright, knocking over a glass of water. “Tom! Give me your hand!”

  The Engineer looked as startled as everyone else, but didn't hesitate. He reached over the table, ignoring the puddle spreading across maps and notes. She gripped his hand tight and Took what she needed. The mnemonic required to communicate with Sal long-distance formed instantly in her mind.

  “Sal! I hear you! What's happening? Are you all right?”

  She didn't breathe as she waited for a reply.

  “Sal?”

  Nothing. The mental contact had been fleeting and was now utterly gone. She released Tom and he sank back into his seat, looking dazed.

  “What is it?” asked Marmion. “Was that Sal and Skender?”

  Shilly opened her mouth to confirm his guess, then hesitated. There were two options open to her. She could tell Marmion everything and hope that he didn't dismiss it as misdirection on her part. He still talked as though the Homunculus was coming for Laure and made preparations to capture it. The morning's planning session had consisted entirely of ways to structure an ambush outside the city Wall, assuming the swarm of man'kin had moved on. Marmion hadn't once mentioned the story Highson Sparre had told them in the dead of the previous night, so the question of what the warden wanted with the Homunculus remained: she didn't want to hand it to him on a plate if all he planned was its casual destruction.

&nb
sp; The alternative was to keep the news to herself and make her own plans, perhaps with Chu's help. The flyer watched keenly from where she sat on a low cupboard in one corner of the room, eager for news of her wing. But what chance did the two of them have in the face of the Divide? Just getting across it on their own would be difficult, let alone dealing with whatever Sal had encountered in the Aad.

  The warden was staring fixedly at her, waiting.

  Blast it. As much as she hated throwing herself upon Marmion's mercy, she didn't see that she had much choice.

  She nodded in response to his question, and sat down.

  He turned away. “Gwil, I have a job for you.”

  The Magister's lackey jumped. “But I—”

  “Take these forms. I believe Magister Considine is waiting for them.” Marmion handed him a sheaf of papers. “I'll have a list of requirements for you when you return, so be quick about it.”

  “Yes, sir.” The thin young man glanced around the room, then hurried from it.

  “Right,” said Marmion when the door had shut behind him. “What do you know?”

  She repeated what Sal had told her. “They're in the Aad, and they've found the Homunculus. I think they're in some kind of trouble.”

  “The Aad? You're certain of that?”

  “That's what he said.”

  “I'd like some more information. Make contact with him again and—”

  “I tried. Something's cut him off.” Worry gripped her heart. “He asked for help. I think we need to act quickly.”

  Marmion ran a hand across his scalp. What few hairs remained stood up for a moment then sank back down flat. Shilly could see the conflict naked on his face. He was facing a decision similar to hers: trust her and commit all his resources to a move that might be unsuccessful or stick to his guns and maybe miss a crucial opportunity.

  “Very well,” he said, sounding resigned. “We'll go to the Aad and help Sal and the others. Any thoughts on how to get there?”

  “We could use a buggy,” said Tom, looking drawn.

  “It'll take too long,” said Banner. “All the way across the Fool's Run, then up the side of the cliff, then along the edge—”