The Blood Debt: Books of the Cataclysm Two

by Sean Williams

  “We could cut along the bottom of the Divide,” said another warden, “once we reached the far side.”

  “Or go straight across.”

  “The ground's too rough.” Chu spoke up. “And that's not even mentioning the man'kin. Would you want to break an axle with those guys bearing down on you?”

  Marmion shook his head. “Obviously not, but it's either that or turn up too late. Do you have an alternative?”

  The flyer looked down at the floor. Her dark hair covered her bandaged temple and obscured her face.

  “Only one,” she said. “Skender and I talked about it, but it was way out of his league.”

  “Let's hear it.”

  “We charter a heavy lifter and fly over.”

  “How difficult would that be?”

  Chu looked up, obviously surprised that Marmion hadn't immediately dismissed the suggestion. “Well, it's not cheap.”

  “Money won't be a problem. How many people can one of these dirigibles bear?”

  “Up to twenty, as long you don't want to carry any freight.”

  “So we shouldn't all go, given there might be Skender's mother and party to rescue as well.” Marmion nodded. “Will we need to hire a pilot, or can you fly it for us?”

  “I could probably manage it.”

  “Can you or can't you? We need more certainty than that.”

  Chu's chin lifted. “My father was a lifter pilot. He let me use the controls sometimes. I may not have Skender's memory, but it isn't something I'd forget in a hurry.”

  “Good,” Marmion said. Shilly wondered if he noticed the emotional undercurrent to her voice, or cared if he had. “I want this organised immediately. Take Banner and get things moving. If anyone asks difficult questions, refer them to me.”

  Chu slid off the bench and Banner stood. “What about Magister Considine?”

  “I'll let her know in due course.” Marmion looked around innocently. “You'll notice that her envoy is currently absent. When he returns, I'll be sure to forward the appropriate paperwork through the appropriate channels. How long it takes to process is out of my hands.”

  Banner nodded her understanding.

  “I want us airborne in two hours. We'll rendezvous in one.” Marmion's decisiveness swept the table, setting the wardens abuzz with new energy. “Where, Chu?”

  “Ahmadi Hangar,” she said. “That's where the lifters are kept. I'll be waiting for you.”

  “Good.” Marmion smiled thinly in thanks. “Now off you go while we work out who stays here to take the heat.”

  Chu and Banner left the room. Shilly gripped her stick with both hands. This was one argument she was determined not to lose.

  A short time later, she knocked on Highson's door. A voice called softly for her to enter. Sal's father was asleep. The healer attending him, a woman with ash-grey hair and jet-black eyebrows, let Shilly sit by the bed while she finished a routine check on his condition.

  “His heart is strong,” she said. “Once his tissues are rejuvenated, he'll be as hale as ever.”

  “What will that take?”

  The healer's teeth were broad and very white. “Lots of water and a few good meals. That's all.”

  Shilly noticed the bowl of soup barely touched on the bedside table. Highson looked even older than he had the night before. She didn't think his recovery was going to be that simple.

  While the healer fussed over him—with more concern than her words seemed to warrant—Shilly took his hand and took from him the strength she knew he possessed.

  “You're not sleeping so deeply that you won't hear me,” she said through the Change.

  He became conscious with a strange flurry of nonsensical thoughts, the winding sheets of dreams in which he had become entangled.

  “The Void. There's a face—”

  “There's not. Wake up, Highson.” She waited patiently as he got himself together.

  “Shilly? Why—what are you doing here?”

  “I came to tell you that we're going to get Sal. He's found the Homunculus, in the Aad like I thought it would be.”

  “Is Marmion going with you?”

  “Yes, and he hasn't mentioned what he intends to do with it when we've caught it. He's keeping very quiet on that score.”

  “You'll be careful, won't you?” His face showed no sign of animation, but his hand gently squeezed hers.

  She remembered something Tom had said while approaching the Divide just a day earlier. He recognised the landscape, but not from ground level: he had dreamed it from above, suggesting that at least he would make it that far.

  “I want you to do something for me, while we're gone,” she said, dodging the question. “I want you to listen to the healer and get better. We didn't come this far to bring back a corpse—which is what you might as well be if you're not careful.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you need to let your guilt go. None of this is your fault, and neither was what happened to Seirian. It wasn't your responsibility to bring her back. Who knows what that thing Skender saw in the Void was? It could have been the palest shade of who she was, or it could have been something masquerading as her in order to win his sympathy. Either way, bringing her back could have been an even bigger disaster than it has been.” She allowed a faint note of humour to enter her mental tone. “I mean that in the nicest possible way, Highson. The other side of the argument is that you built the Homunculus; we're going to need you to help us deal with it. Don't fade away because you think you deserve to be punished.”

  “I—” His eyelids fluttered. “I know what you're saying, Shilly, and I appreciate it, but—”

  “I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it for Sal. You're the only person close to his mother that he's ever likely to talk to again. And he's the closest thing you've got to her, too. So you both need each other, whether you'll admit it or not. Concentrate on what's in the world before looking for redemption elsewhere.”

  “You've obviously been thinking about this.”

  “All bloody night, and I tell you, I'm knackered. I don't understand either of you, and the last thing I want to do is go off on some balloon ride across the Divide. But I'm going. And you're going to be here when we get back. Sal will want to see you when he arrives. You'll be sitting up for him, won't you?”

  His lips twitched. “You're nothing like Seirian, you know,” he said, “but you remind me of her. I don't know why.”

  “Well, for starters,” she said, “we both love your son.”

  “Go on,” he croaked, with the faintest of smiles. “You have a balloon to catch.”

  The healer straightened from her ministrations with a cluck of tongue against teeth. “He must be dreaming,” she said. “That's a positive sign.”

  “I think you're right,” Shilly said, letting go of Highson's hand, and hauling herself upright. “If he doesn't start showing immediate signs of improvement, I'll boil my cane and eat it.”

  “That won't be necessary, dear.” Again, the bright, white smile.

  “It'd better not be.”

  The morning seemed to fly by and drag at the same time. Although Shilly had won a berth on the heavy lifter—as the person Sal was most likely to contact—Marmion hadn't actually given her anything to do. Unwilling to sit on her hands, she volunteered to help the wardens in their preparations, but she found them in much the same state. They couldn't use the Change on the Interior side of the Divide. Kail's bolas were suddenly the most effective weapon available, and he was missing somewhere in the Divide. An air of nervous expectation dominated the assembly.

  In the end, Shilly opted to leave them to it and headed for Ahmadi Hangar ahead of them. She needed to keep moving—and the chances were that Marmion would call for departure at the last possible moment, leaving her hurrying to keep up. If she was there first, she couldn't be left behind.

  A street sweeper gave her directions and she followed them as quickly as she could. The city was as restless as she fel
t, full of arguments and irritations. A display of fruit tumbled, sending dried figs in a spray across the sidewalk. Two women picked up the pieces of a jar, disagreeing over who had broken it. Far above, sitting on thin poles and dressed in long red robes that waved like flags, the local weather workers uttered wailing cries that went on much longer than she thought was humanly possible. They didn't seem to take breath. If the wind heard their calls, there was no sign of rain in the sky. As it had been since Shilly approached the Divide, the blue infinity stretching beyond the tip of the highest towers was unbroken and absolute. Her skin felt dry and itchy.

  She recognised Ahmadi Hangar as soon as she saw it. The building was broad, long, and tall like a brick grain store. It had many windows and two massive doors in its roof, both open. As she watched, a heavy lifter rose gracefully through them and into the sky over the city. The balloon was shaped like a giant seed with a long, deep basket suspended beneath. A stream of mottled brown charms swept down the outside, their purpose not immediately obvious. Two propellers hummed at the rear, glowing brightly with the Change. She could hear the raucous buzzing of an alcohol engine, its chimerical output channelled into the propeller's mechanism. The charms reacted to the wind, shying away from it or drawing closer depending on its direction and strength. When a particularly strong gust swept down the street past her and lifted a wave of sand into the sky, the underside of the heavy lifter turned a deep black, just for an instant, and it bobbed in the air like a boat on the sea.

  She watched in wonder as the lifter rose clear of the hangar and glided ponderously away. Its shadow swept over her, giving her a momentary chill.

  Someone whistled at her. She lowered her gaze. Chu was waving from a window in the side of the hangar. Shilly waved back and crossed the street, dodging a camel and its rider who flicked a gaudy fan at her with a look of exasperation. As she did so, she noticed a handsome, bearded man watching her from the corner of the hangar. He turned away when she looked at him, and ducked down a side street. Shilly might have wondered if she had imagined it, had not years of hiding in Fundelry honed her instincts. She hadn't been followed, but someone had definitely noted her arrival.

  The entrance wasn't visibly guarded, so she strolled unhindered into the vast space. The giant chamber had room for six heavy lifters. Two enormous dirigibles hung suspended at the rear of the hangar, with walkways leading from the gondolas to laddered gantries. A wire fence separated the viewing area she occupied from the working space. There she saw large barrels of oil and machine parts in various stages of repair. The air smelled of grease and fire. Voices called from one side of the hangar to the other; tools clanged against metal. Over it all hung the twinkling of the Change, like frost caught by sunlight.

  “You're early,” said Chu, appearing at the entrance to a stairwell.

  “Thought I'd see how things stood down here.”

  “Oh, it's coming together. There's a lifter free, but the paperwork is daunting.” The flyer stepped closer to whisper. “We're being stalled.”

  “Why?”

  “The Magister, I guess. She probably wants us to stay put, where she can keep an eye on us.” Chu looked frustrated and wary. “Why anyone would keep us from paying to go to the Aad is beyond me. There's nothing there but a big dangerous Ruin.”

  “So you're told.” Shilly nodded slowly, pondering Chu's comment about the Magister keeping an eye on them. “Someone was watching me as I came here. Have you noticed anything else odd?”

  “No.”

  “Is Banner around?”

  “Inspecting the works of the lifter we've been allocated.” Chu pointed at the dirigible in the right rear corner of the hangar. “We got that far, at least. Come on through.”

  Shilly happily obeyed. She remembered seeing a pod of whales once, in the sea to the south of Fundelry. The dirigibles looked even larger than the whales, although the fact that they were hanging in the air above her, not swimming heavily through water, might have had something to do with that.

  Chu opened a gate in the wire fence and waved her by. A man in overalls walked past and saluted them with a wink.

  “I haven't been here for a while,” Chu said in explanation, “but people still know me. My mother died when I was born, so I grew up on the hangar floor. It's where I took my first steps, learned my first words—mostly from the mechanics. Dad wasn't too happy about that last part. He used to say that I could swear before I talked and fly before I walked. It might well have been true.”

  The memories were obviously good ones, but Shilly sensed sadness, too. “What happened to him?”

  “An accident. One of the old lifters was in for a refit. The bladder needed a thorough patching all around the lower aft area. Someone sold Dad a dodgy batch of cloth and it burst during a test run. It happened right over the city. Could have been a total disaster, but Dad managed to steer it as it fell. Took it into the Wall, shedding most of its momentum before it hit. The impact killed him in the process.”

  Shilly saw tears in the flyer's eyes and a simmering resentment in the cut of her jaw.

  “The inquest ruled that he should have been more careful with the repairs. So much for gratitude. The guy who sold him the cloth is still trading, although no one here will do business with him. And, well, life goes on. I'm not good enough with my hands to follow in his footsteps, so I just fly. When I can.”

  “It doesn't sound like it's been easy.”

  “There's no reason why it should be.” Chu's response was sharp. “The world owes me no favours. I take what comes my way and try not to think too much about it.”

  Shilly recognised that feeling. Life was tough for someone on their own, and it fostered toughness in return. Shilly wondered if Chu's father had left much in the way of money. Perhaps that and the recent loss of her licence explained the lack of accommodation. She could have been roughing it on the street for weeks. In Laure or any other city, that wasn't a pretty thought.

  Whatever she's been doing, Shilly concluded, she must be pretty desperate to hang around the likes of us…

  They walked in silence under one of the giant docks. It was the biggest thing Shilly had ever seen—easily bigger than Os, the Sky Wardens’ ship of bone. This seemed large enough to hold all of Fundelry, with room to spare.

  “How did you hurt your leg?”

  Shilly was craning her neck upwards like a tourist and didn't quite catch what the flyer had said. “What?”

  “Your leg. If you don't mind me asking.”

  Shilly hid a slight smile. Tit for tat, she thought. I poke your weak spot and you poke mine.

  “I'd rather talk about Skender. How long have you known him?”

  Chu looked disconcerted. “Only a few days.”

  “How are you finding him?”

  “You know.” The flyer looked anywhere but at her. “He's smart, obviously—but he's kind of dumb, too. He doesn't see what's right in front of him half the time, he's so wrapped up in his thoughts.”

  That sounded familiar. “He's not like us. You know about his memories, don't you? He sees something once and it's always in his head. The backlog swamps him if he doesn't keep it in check.”

  Chu stared up at the heavy lifter, and nodded. “Everyone has baggage.”

  “He has enough baggage for everyone.”

  They had reached the base of one of several scaffolds leading, via various ladders and ramps, up to the gangplank.

  “Can you climb up there?” asked Chu. “If not, I can arrange a freight elevator for you.”

  “No, thanks,” she said with a tart smile. Anything rather than be considered freight. “I'll just be a little slow.”

  “Well, we're not in any great hurry at the moment. Why don't you go on ahead while I—?”

  Chu stopped at a commotion from the hangar entrance. Voices echoed in the vast space, overlapping too much for Shilly to disentangle. A group of more than a dozen people had formed near the gate through the fence. She couldn't make out their identities a
gainst the bright background of the day. They seemed to be arguing.

  Then a group of eight broke away and marched steadily towards her location. Robed in blue, they were obviously wardens. The rest followed, shouting and waving.

  “That looks like your friend Marmion,” said Chu, her eyes sharper than Shilly's. “And Tom. There's stationmaster Shusti—the guy who was stalling me earlier. Looks like he's called the guards. And—oh, great.”

  “What?” Shilly asked, more concerned by the dread in Chu's voice than her misidentification of Marmion as a friend. “Who is it?”

  “Only some of that baggage we were talking about. Hold on; here they come.”

  The babble of voices resolved into a full-scale argument.

  “I will not take no for an answer,” Marmion was insisting. “My credentials are sound, and so is my credit. I act with the full authority of the Alcaide. You've seen the letter from Magister Considine. I can't understand why you persist in obstructing me—except out of deliberate, unwarranted malice.”

  Stationmaster Shusti was an overweight man with an elaborate coif and a sweeping, silken robe. His ample cheeks boiled red with anger. “This is outrageous! You cannot walk in here and expect me to ignore basic safety regulations. We have standards to conform to, and procedures to follow—”

  “Who cares about procedures? This is an emergency! Three of my people are in grave danger and I need to help them. Don't blame me if I walk all over you on the way. Either help me or stand aside.”

  Shusti spluttered. Shilly had to admire Marmion's gall. He certainly was a dab hand at facing up to bureaucrats and functionaries, a skill no doubt learned from his years in the Haunted City.

  Three guards in black and gold who had been bringing up the rear hurried forward to block the ladder Shilly and Chu were standing next to. There the rolling argument came to a temporary halt.

  “I'm sorry, sir,” said one, “but we cannot let you pass.”

  “This again?” Marmion opened his arms in a long-suffering gesture and rolled his eyes. “People might die because of your incompetence. I bet our treatment wouldn't be so shabby if we were Stone Mages. This is outright discrimination, and I will not tolerate it!”