The Blood Debt: Books of the Cataclysm Two

by Sean Williams

  Chu came forward. “One of the people we're going to rescue is a Stone Mage,” she told the guard. “Do you really want the Synod breathing down our neck for not helping?”

  “A Stone Mage, huh?” scoffed a voice from the back of the huddle. The handsome young man Shilly had seen watching her pressed forward. His uniform presented a bold red square on each shoulder. “He's no more a Stone Mage than I am.”

  “Shut up, Kazzo,” said Chu. “You don't know what you're talking about.”

  “No? How many Skender Van Haasteren the Tenths are there? I did some research into your little friend. He's just a student, not a Mage. You lied about him, so who's to say this lot isn't lying, too? Whatever you're up to, you need to be stopped.”

  There was an arrogant, malicious gleam in Kazzo's eye. He was enjoying hurting Chu, that was for certain. Shilly instantly felt bad for baiting her.

  “We are taking this lifter,” said Marmion to the guards, his voice low and dangerous. “Stand aside.”

  “No, sir. Not until I have proper authorisation.”

  “You're outnumbered eight to three.”

  “Not for much longer, sir.”

  The sound of footsteps drew Shilly's gaze to the entrance. More guards had arrived, and it didn't look like they were going to give Marmion what he needed.

  “Excuse me,” she said, forcing her way past the nearest guard. He reached out to stop her and she swung her walking stick at his legs. The stout wood cracked hard against his shins. He gasped and hopped away.

  She raised her stick like a sword as a second guard approached. “What sort of men are you, to attack a poor crippled girl?” She indicated that Chu should start climbing. Marmion and the other wardens came around behind her. The guards drew nightsticks but didn't wield them.

  “This is outrageous,” spluttered Shusti. “How you of all people came to be involved in something like this, Chu Milang, I don't know. Your father would be appalled.”

  “Don't you give me that,” the flyer said as she scurried up the metal rungs, “you puffed-up, self-important fool. You're the only person here who'd try to use Dad against me.”

  “You'll never get clear of the gantry!”

  “No? Looks to me like someone's been sloppy with the stays. I don't know how that could have come about. It wouldn't have happened in Dad's day.”

  Shilly glanced up at the lifter and noted that all bar two of the ropes securing it hung loose. She glimpsed Banner's face peering over the side of the gondola, followed shortly by the sound of an engine turning over. The propellers at the rear of the dirigible glowed brightly and began to rotate.

  “Stop them!” yelled Shusti as the last of the wardens climbed up the ladder and Shilly prepared to follow. The three guards had moved off to another ladder, not waiting to deal with her. She only hoped for enough time to get up top before reinforcements arrived.

  She climbed as fast as her gammy leg would allow. Holding onto her stick also slowed her down, so the gap between her and the last warden grew steadily greater. The pounding of feet on the ramps above vibrated through the ladder, becoming louder the higher she climbed.

  She reached the first series of ramps and hurried along them. The next wave of guards was already climbing the ladder behind her. She cursed under her breath and stepped up the pace. They could, if they moved fast enough, cut ahead and catch her.

  And then what? Would Marmion halt the mission on her behalf? Or would he keep going and leave her behind?

  She gritted her teeth against a growing ache in her thigh and swore to save him from having to choose. She had two more ladders to climb before she reached the gangplank level. Already wardens were swarming across it to the gondola.

  “Hurry, Shilly!”

  She didn't need Chu's shout of warning, and she didn't waste breath replying. She reached the next ladder and heaved herself upwards. It was shorter than the last, but still looked daunting. The entire length of her leg was aflame by the time she hauled her leg over the top of the ladder.

  The shouts of the guards followed her along the walkways. They were converging on her rapidly, from behind and along the second route. To her dismay, she realised that the group coming up the other ladders was going to arrive before her. Marmion would have to cast off or be boarded.

  The gangplank swayed as someone ran across it from the direction of the gondola. She heard banging as she started to climb the last ladder. A nut pinged from the scaffolding before her, then bounced off metal stanchions and tumbled through space to the ground far below. The guards’ ladder wobbled precariously and their yells turned from anger to alarm.

  “Another step,” yelled Tom, “and I'll let you fall!”

  The guards cursed him and began to retreat.

  Shilly gratefully crawled over the top of the ladder, onto the gangplank level. Tom was instantly beside her, pocketing a large wrench and taking some of her weight with a hand under her shoulder. Shilly forced herself to concentrate on her footing and not think about the distance to the ground as she limped across the swaying gangplank. The moment they were aboard, the two remaining ties fell away.

  “Stand back!” Chu's voice echoed through the hangar as the guards on Shilly's heels reached the edge of the gantry. The lifter rocked and began to rise. The sound of its engines grew to a roar. The propellers disappeared into a glowing blur. Shilly let herself be pressed into a seat, her weight suddenly seeming greater than normal. Sunlight fell across her face, momentarily blinding her.

  Then they were away. With the grace of a sailing ship, the heavy lifter surged upwards, clearing the sides of the hangar's hatch and ascending into the open sky.

  Literally breathless, Shilly marvelled at the city laid out around and below her. It seemed to get darker the further inward she looked, going from a faded brown at the edges to a gleaming tower at the very centre. Beyond its walls, natural and human-made, she saw wrinkled brown land and the vast scar of the Divide to the south. Grey mountains to the northeast were wreathed in white. A strong wind blew across her face, stealing her words.

  “Well, we're committed now.”

  Tom had moved off, not waiting to be thanked for his assistance. The gondola's passenger area was smaller than it had looked from the ground, barely wide enough for two people to stand together; long curving benches hugged its interior walls and took up valuable floor space. Chu had said it would seat twenty but half that number seemed to completely fill it. Panelling carved from a warm red wood covered the metal frame connecting the gondola to the dirigible overhead. Its sides were open to the air from waist-height upwards, apart from at the very front where curved sheets of clear glass protected the pilot. There Chu sat, frantically pulling at the controls. At the opposite end of the gondola, Banner and Tom crouched head to head, talking loudly over the throbbing of the engine. A rolling, driving vibration shook the entire frame.

  “Are you unharmed?” Marmion stopped to check on her as he moved forward to consult with Chu. Shilly nodded, although her leg ached and her hip was on fire.

  “What happened back there?” she asked. “Did you tread on someone's toes?”

  “We bucked the system. That never goes down well with people who care about such things.”

  “Could it really be as simple as that?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. We'll find out when we get back, I suppose.”

  Shilly was reluctant to think that far ahead. As Marmion went aft to talk to Banner, she moved forward to watch Chu. The flyer was working up a sweat at the controls, moving levers and adjusting dials at a furious rate. Shilly didn't know what any of them did, but they looked fiendishly complex.

  “Can I help?” she asked.

  “You can watch out for company,” Chu told her. “Let me know if anyone gets too close.”

  Shilly scanned the sky. Several flyers were visible, circling through the morning air over the city. “What will we do about them if they do?”

  “Gesture rudely. There's not else much we can do in
this thing. I left my slingshot at home. But it's not as if they're going to shoot us down or anything. The lifter is too valuable.”

  “How long until we reach the Aad?”

  “An hour or so. I'll push it as fast as I can.”

  Hearing defensiveness in Chu's tone, Shilly stopped talking. She divided her time between keeping an eye on the sky and watching the city creep by beneath them. She tried to find the Black Galah as the city streets rolled past, but she missed it. The dirigible sailed clear over the Wall, and then there was nothing but the Divide and its strange geography below them. She saw the hair-thin line of the Fool's Run angle away to the west and fade into the distance. Dry creek beds and sandy plains reminded her of home, but there was no sea nearby. Water hadn't visited the canyon for years, by the look of it. It was as parched as the deepest desert.

  She spotted four low brown clouds: more man'kin were on the move. Grateful she wasn't down among them, she performed a rough mental tally of how much time had passed since Sal had called her. It had been an hour at least, and another hour would pass before they reached the Aad. From there they had to find him and Skender.

  She only hoped Sal could hang on that long. It was the best she had to offer.

  “Animals have minds that exist entirely in the present, with little or no thought of tomorrow or yesterday. Humans travel from past to future in a dynamic tension between the two extremes. Man'kin exist in all times at once, hence their ability to foretell or reveal things that are not known to us.”

  MASTER WARDEN RISA ATILDE: NOTES TOWARD A UNIFIED CURRICULUM

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

  “Skender?” Sal froze at the entrance to the dungeon. He could feel his fragile grip on the Change slipping, which meant that either the Homunculus was close or the sink was reasserting itself. He squeezed every last drop out of the charm Master Warden Atilde had taught him, making the fog as thick as any he had ever seen. That was more important than trying to call Shilly again—and for once he didn't care if the charm went out of control completely.

  “Skender!”

  Through the dense, echoless air, he heard a strange choking noise, then a gruesome thud. The fog billowed in the lamplight, and he rushed forward, unable to stand impotently by while Skender was being hurt.

  What he found was Skender sitting up on the rough floor, rubbing his throat. A familiar face hovered at his side. Sal hadn't seen Kemp for five years but he had changed only in details. Apart from thick jet-black tattoos on his wrists and forearms, his skin was still utterly white and he still looked utterly intimidating.

  “Glad you could make it,” Kemp said, helping Skender upright with a tight, almost pained expression. His colourless eyes took in the fog. “This is your doing, I presume?”

  “The best I could manage under the circumstances.”

  “Well, it helped. Got me close enough to clock the guy trying to tie Skender's neck in a knot.”

  “I hope,” gasped Skender, “you gave him a thump from me.”

  “Don't worry. He won't be getting up for a week.”

  The fog thinned further. Sal looked down at the ground, but could see no fallen man. “Are you sure about that?”

  Before Kemp could answer, an indistinct figure approached. Sal stiffened, bracing himself for Pirelius, then recognised the fluid outlines of the Homunculus. The last dregs of the Change drained out of him like water from a leaky tank.

  Creation of my father, he thought. Does that make you my brother?

  “It's okay,” said Skender, taking his arm. “They're on our side.”

  “‘They’?”

  “It's a long story. Let's just get out of here.”

  Sal was shocked to see a massive bruise forming on Skender's cheek. Other marks discoloured his arms and throat. “Are you sure you're all right?”

  “I have to be.” He turned to Kemp. “Open the other cages. If we can wake up Mum and Behenna, we can be on our way.”

  “Don't forget Mawson,” said Kemp, hurrying off through the last wisps of fog.

  “Shit.” Skender wobbled unsteadily. “We can't carry everyone—and Chu's wing, too. You did bring it, didn't you?”

  “It's where we left it, safe and sound.”

  “I hope so, for your sake. She'll be very unhappy if it's damaged.”

  A mewling sound drew Sal's attention to an open cell where the pigtailed bandit he had seen earlier lay writhing on the floor. “What happened to him?”

  “He got in our way.” Skender didn't waste time explaining. Kemp had opened three cage doors and was bent over the inert body of Shom Behenna. Skender hurried to another cage.

  “Mum! Wake up!”

  Abi Van Haasteren moaned and raised her head. Sal winced at the sight of her bloodied features. She looked as though she had been used as a punching bag. “Skender? Is that you?”

  He knelt next to her and helped her sit up. “Yes, it's me.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to find you. Dad sent me.”

  “You—” She put her tied hands to her temples. “Your father shouldn't have done that.” Her eyes clearly weren't focusing properly, but they tried to look at him anyway. “I'm glad you're here, though.”

  “Can you stand? We need to get moving.”

  “Sal. You, too?” Abi Van Haasteren's gaze fixed briefly on him as she clambered feebly to her feet. Sal cut the bindings on her legs and ankles with two swift cuts. “Thank you.”

  “You're welcome.”

  “What's that?” she asked, looking behind them both, to the Homunculus.

  “When I was in the Haunted City,” Skender said, “I told your friend Iniga about meeting someone in the Void Beneath. Don't pretend you didn't hear about that.”

  His mother looked uncertain for a moment, then nodded. “I remember something. It was a long time ago, though.”

  “Sure. Well, this is that person—actually two people in one. They helped us escape.”

  “Thank you, too, then,” she told the ghostly figure. The Homunculus's form shivered, then firmed.

  Sal, his mind reeling, hurried off to help Kemp. The albino was still trying to rouse Behenna.

  “I can't wake him,” said Kemp, smacking the ex-warden's cheek hard enough to leave a mark on the man's dark skin. “I'd offer to carry him, but there's Mawson as well. I don't think you're strong enough for either of them.”

  “That's okay. Kail can help.”

  “Who?”

  Sal could have kicked himself. There had been no sign of the tracker since they had separated in the corridor outside the antechamber. Kail had said that he would hold off the bandits bringing up the rear while Sal looked after Skender. Now everything outside the dungeon was very quiet.

  “Goddess.” Sal stood and ran out of the cage. The antechamber was empty. Two unconscious bandits lay face-down in the corridor outside. Sal followed the tunnel back to the room with the stalagmite. The glowing fragments had faded in brightness. Sal briefly acknowledged Kail's guess that the sink might stop working if the piece he had taken was far enough away from the rest. Breaking the natural charm had effectively returned the Change to the Aad, allowing him to call Shilly and summon the fog.

  The tracker's pack lay abandoned near the stalagmite. Kail himself was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Pirelius. Both absences worried him. If the bandits regrouped and tried to take Skender and the rest captive again, Sal wasn't sure any of them had the skills to mount much resistance.

  He felt the Change returning now he was away from the Homunculus. He considered calling Shilly again, but precious time was passing. Reluctantly, Sal picked up the pack and hurried back to the dungeon, hoping that everyone was ready to move.

  To his relief, they were. Kemp had Mawson—a granite bust that definitely weighed far too much for Sal to lift—cradled in his arms, while Skender helped his mother stay upright. Shom Behenna, still unconscious, hung like a child in the arms
of the Homunculus, much as Sal's father had a day earlier.

  “Are you okay with him?” Sal asked the Homunculus. He sounded as uncertain as he felt. He wasn't quite ready to accept the idea of the creature being an ally, although he had never been entirely convinced that it was an enemy, either.

  “This body isn't natural,” it/they responded with familiar discordant tones. “It doesn't need food or water, and it doesn't tire or sleep. Everybody should have one.”

  Was that a joke? Sal couldn't tell. “Well, let us know if you need a hand. I'm happy to help.”

  “After you, Sal,” Skender said. “You do know where you're going, don't you?”

  “I think so.” Sal took one last look over the ragtag group he would be leading out of the dungeon, and caught sight of the injured man on the floor of the cell behind him. The agonised squirming had ceased, but one hand still scrabbled spastically at the dirt. Sal didn't know what had happened to the man, or what he wanted to do about it, but the fact that the others had paid him no mind at all told him that perhaps he shouldn't worry.

  “This way,” he said, and they were moving at last.

  Skender followed Sal up the tunnel with his mother leaning heavily on his arm. Abi Van Haasteren was taller than him by a good thumb's length, but she was so stooped and weakened by her tribulations that she seemed much smaller. Skender could feel her wincing every time she put her right foot down. He could smell her blood.

  “You shouldn't have come, Skender,” she said again. “You broke the Code.”

  “I know, but I didn't swear to uphold it. You did.”

  “Indeed. Stop here for a second.”

  They had reached a rough-hewn chamber with a squat stalagmite in the centre. She leaned away from him and studied something sticking out of its smooth, water-polished side. It looked like part of a fossilised spine. Her eyes were wide and voice hushed.

  “Yes, I thought so.”

  “You know what this is?” asked Sal.