City of Dust

by Michelle Kenney

  But the monster bird was already halfway towards the domes dwarfing the horizon. I stared after its silhouette as though trapped in a nightmare, my mind crowding with images: the creature landing on Octavia’s balcony, delivering Lake to Cassius and Livia, and then the torture they would surely inflict for daring to believe in something different. If she wasn’t already dead.

  Anger doused my veins, replacing the horror with something far more purposeful. Grandpa, Eli … now Lake. It never stopped. Well, Cassius wanted a fight, he was going to get a fight. And this wasn’t just about Lake or the Book – the future of every last Prolet depended on what happened next. On what I did next.

  Cut us, we all bleed.

  It was something Grandpa used to say.

  ‘Some more than others,’ I whispered as though he could hear me.

  Max shot me a troubled look. He knew; of course he knew.

  ‘We should think about … No! Wait! Tal!’ he yelled as I took off across the courtyard towards the fallen gargoyle.

  ‘Atticus, find Eli!’ he barked, flying after me. ‘Move everyone to the tower. Tonight! And for the love of Arafel, don’t wait for us!’

  Chapter 9

  I didn’t notice the suffocating air this time. My head was full of Lake’s gaunt smile when she’d shown me their crude beds; and the way her hooded eyes had exuded real, painful hope. I couldn’t believe that smile was crushed between the claws of a monster. It didn’t make any sense, I raged, for her to come this far, only to be dragged back inside the mouth of hell. The injustice of it all provided the grim determination I needed not to flinch, even when I reached the tunnel fork.

  And as I sprinted directly into the gloomy unknown, I felt Max close his distance.

  ‘For the love of … Tal, please! Let’s just do this a little more covertly,’ he reasoned, accelerating to draw level with me between the narrow rock faces.

  There was just enough room in this new tunnel, and the rhythm of our synchronized pace soothed me, taking me back to Arafel and the whisper of the forest.

  ‘We’re probably running straight into a trap, and what about Eli and the rest of the Prolets? What about the nightmares we might be facing down this wormhole any second now?’ he hissed.

  I slowed as his reason pierced my fury like tiny darts. Eli’s cool anger flickered through my mind, chased swiftly by a blood-sniffing Cerberus. We wouldn’t stand a chance against either the strix or Isca Pantheon’s favourite pet dog in this space. Furious or not. Then there was the fact that a certain violent Roman Director General wanted my head on a stake. But all the reasoning in the world couldn’t outweigh the damned hope in Lake’s eyes.

  ‘You don’t need to come!’ I seethed, angry I’d already broken a promise to myself to do this alone.

  I was more agile than Max; I could jump and flip quickly if needed. I just couldn’t risk him getting hurt again, not for me. Not if I could help it.

  He glowered, and right then, I knew it was non-negotiable.

  Whatever lay ahead, we would face it together.

  ‘Every second counts,’ I muttered, accelerating into the murky darkness again.

  It was a few minutes later that I sensed we weren’t alone. It was the same feeling I got in the forest at night, when I knew an animal was nearby. Not a sixth sense exactly, but something more arcane, a feral instinct our Great War ancestors had almost forgotten.

  We ran on until the feeling became so intense, I wasn’t at all surprised when I made out the hunched shape of an animal just ahead, amid the gloom. We both slowed to a halt.

  ‘Pan?’ I whispered after a beat, squinting to get a clear view.

  The shape shifted, and stared back through the darkness. It startled me at first, but then I gleaned its pained expression. And eyes, which stole all my attention. Not so much for their lucid blue colour, as for their tiny new radial black lines, rhythmically contracting and expanding.

  ‘You can see in the dark?’ I whispered in wonder, as he crept towards us.

  It was so clearly a Pantheonite signature, the type of genetic enhancement I’d come to loathe, and yet I couldn’t help but welcome whatever advantages it brought now.

  Pan nodded. He made no sound, but his hurt was tangible. I still longed to ask what act of fate had entwined him and Lake so closely. But there was no time, and I doubted he’d tell me anyway.

  ‘We find Lake … together.’

  It was more a statement than a question. He wasn’t turning back. He studied us both carefully, and I wondered whether he might consider us more hindrance than support. But he nodded briefly, and turning on his hoof-feet, forged into the darkness ahead.

  ***

  I thought of Unus so often as we sped through the endless tunnel beneath the arid dust, I could almost hear his ponderous footsteps behind us. I’d only survived the hazardous underground tunnels in Pantheon because of his companionship, and humble heroism. And although there was no fetid scent or overt clattering of claws yet, I could sense Pantheon’s nightmares were inching closer. The thought made my skin crawl. And yet, there was no choice to be made.

  Cassius had Lake, Aelia had the Book of Arafel, and I’d made Grandpa a promise. No matter Aelia’s exact motivation, she’d taken the one thing I’d sworn my life to protect, and couldn’t pretend didn’t exist. I recalled Grandpa’s words as though he’d uttered them yesterday:

  ‘The Book of Arafel is the responsibility of one of our line only. You must only share it when it is time.’

  I grimaced. There was so fine a line between a legacy and a curse. But one thing was for sure. Thomas had bequeathed fire the day he hid his Voynich research inside the Book of Arafel.

  ‘Just like the old days!’ Max forced through gritted teeth, as we loomed up towards a solid rock face in the narrow passage.

  But instead of turning around, Pan indicated a rough dark circle carved into the thick rock ceiling. We took a pace back as he stepped beneath and started heaving upwards with his thick, muscular arms, his tapered equine ears brushing the glistening surface. I longed to ask him so many questions: why had he run from the tower? Why had Lake considered she could take on the black aquila by herself? What secret did they share?

  But there was no time.

  Instead, we pressed back to avoid the earth and small particles of debris raining down as the rock groaned and gave way to Pan’s strength. I inhaled the sweet night-time air briefly, but my relief was short-lived. The great white expanse of Isca Pantheon’s south wall stretched above our heads like a formidable fortress. We were within touching distance of hell. And it was terrifying.

  Memories loomed from the recesses of my mind as Pan heaved himself out through the hole, and I inhaled raggedly, trying to control my racing pulse.

  ‘You OK?’ Max whispered.

  I nodded. This was just the beginning, and there was no room for weakness. At least, not openly. I grasped Pan’s white outstretched arm, and let him pull me into the cold night air.

  Despite his raw-boned state, Pan was still far stronger than Max and I put together. The thought gave me some comfort as we slipped around the monolithic structure, staying well within its shadow. And as we left the southern wall behind, I allowed myself a final glimpse back at the distant, silhouetted city of Exeter. It stood bleakly in the starlight, a shelled monument to its previous glory. And yet somewhere beneath its dust, my brother and a party of young Prolets inadvertently carried the hopes of an enslaved underclass. Outsiders in their own natural world.

  The thought stilled me.

  ‘We’ll make it back,’ Max whispered.

  I nodded before realizing he was staring in a very different direction, out at the dark whispering forest fringe just visible on the western hills. I reached to slip my fingers inside his, drawing strength from their familiar contours and warmth.

  ‘I know, there’s a whole summer yet,’ I answered, the bleak wind lifting the hair from around the nape of my neck.

  ‘A summer to remember.’
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br />   He turned to look at me, and I could hear the quickening in his breath.

  I flushed, despite everything.

  ‘I’m sorry …’ I tried awkwardly, ‘for bringing you here … again.’

  ‘Tal,’ he responded, pulling me to him gently, ‘do you honestly think I’d let you come alone? That I wouldn’t want to rescue Lake and the Book of Arafel? That I’d let you face that monster without me? I knew what you were planning to do, and what’s at stake. I always have. But I’d rather die trying with you, than watch you leave knowing you weren’t coming back.’

  I closed my eyes. I could feel his fear like my own, but I knew it wasn’t because he was afraid of Cassius or Pantheon. He was afraid of losing us, and that crippled me.

  I reached up and drew his face down to mine. I needed to taste the forest, to make him see I cared more than I could ever put into ordinary small words. He met me unquestioningly, pulling me inside his warmth, and for a few seconds, it was just us beneath the inky sky, saying what is best said silently. Moments later, there was only a hint of the truth still shadowing his eyes.

  ‘I don’t care,’ he whispered. ‘He might have cut a hole in your heart. But I’ve got the rest, and it’s right here, with me.’

  I tried to answer, but couldn’t force the sounds over my lips. And after all, what was there left to say when he was the one being brave?

  ‘The little treehouse,’ was all I managed. ‘Have you still got it?’

  He grinned then, a lopsided grin that took me straight back to the forest games we would play as kids. Tree-tag was a favourite, as it honed our skills faster than all the tree-running trials in the world. I’d hide, curled up inside one of the baobab forks, until he spooked me enough into a run. But he was always there, just a few paces behind.

  He reached into his pocket, pulled out the little hand-carved treehouse, and rehung it around my neck.

  ‘I also made you these,’ he added, digging into his leather rations bag and withdrawing a handful of hand-carved, aerodynamic darts, ‘from your white oak … for luck.’

  ‘You’re all the luck I need.’ I smiled, instantly seeing the time and care each one must have taken.

  ‘Then we’ll build the rest,’ he responded, tucking an errant hair behind my ear, ‘when we get back.’

  ‘When we get back,’ I echoed silently, turning back towards Pan.

  And as we slipped down into the last tunnel connecting the outside world with Pantheon’s Prolet underworld, I meant every word.

  ***

  I looked around at the rock walls and gritted my teeth.

  ‘Single file; be ready,’ I whispered to Pan, gripping my slingshot.

  I could see by the way the radial lines in his bright eyes were contracting vigorously that he was already very aware of the nightmares lurking in Pantheon’s tunnels. I put out a hand, and he flinched at my touch. I thought of Unus again. Despite their strength and size, they were both the gentlest creatures.

  ‘Pan … back in the tower, you ran out. Why?’

  There was a moment’s silence while he eyed me nervously.

  ‘Pro-tect … Lake,’ he managed finally in a difficult, thick voice before turning and creeping forward again.

  We followed as swiftly as we dared, sensing the growing threat of the encroaching world, step by step. This last tunnel was much shorter than I remembered. And while Pan led the way my chest pounded, not with fear, but with injustice. The Voynich might be a Book of Fire, but nothing could compare with the rage burning in the pit of my stomach. Grandpa had spent the last moments of his life fighting. He’d died believing he had bequeathed a more hopeful world. And now it looked as though it was all for nothing.

  I frowned at Pan’s tall white figure, hunched over to prevent the tips of his ears scraping the rock ceiling.

  ‘Pro-tect … Lake.’

  What exactly had he meant? There were plenty of other young Prolets to protect, so why was one child so special? And why did I feel he would protect Lake above everyone else?

  I’d faced so many monsters at Pantheon’s hand, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling there was a darker shadow to come. And why had August abandoned them all? Abandoned us all? Why did you disappear when we needed you most? I forced my feet onwards, burying the hurt that lurked just beneath my veneer of calm, like a serpent biding its time.

  By some quirk of luck, this tunnel also appeared unoccupied and we found ourselves approaching the Prolet domestic quarters before the hour was done. The walls started taking on a drier, more amber hue and we followed their downward gradient, alert to any new sound of Prolet life.

  It was only when we rounded the last rock corner that I sensed the change.

  One of the redeeming factors of the Prolet underworld had been its warmth, courtesy of a huge fire pit sunk into the centre of the cave floor. But the temperature tonight was different, much colder, and the light travelling down from the silhouetted entrance was oddly reduced. I strained my eyes and focused on the entrance. From what little I could see, the huge vaulted chamber was filled with a strange tomb-like twilight. Shivering, I fastened my softened leather tunic top. At least we were better equipped than last time.

  Moments later, Pan drew to an abrupt standstill, holding up a large white hand. Silently, we watched as the tall silhouettes of three Pantheonite sentries came into view, before pressing back against the rock walls to agree a plan. This exit was guarded by Prolet satyrs when I left. It made sense that Cassius would increase the Pantheonite guard on all exits after the insurgents’ escape; his pride had taken a direct hit and now he had a point to prove. I narrowed my eyes; he wasn’t alone in that.

  ‘Why run when you can fly?’ I mouthed to Max, who winked and nodded.

  ‘Keep count, Pan?’ he whispered.

  Pan stared. I reached out to touch his arm, and he flinched before inclining his head.

  There was no time to lose. Max and I crept forward in parallel until we were within a few metres of the tunnel exit. And as I focused, the rock walls melted away until we were just two Arafel hunters, doing what came naturally. He loosened the coil of rope wound around his shoulders and back, and passed a length across to me. I ran the well-worn, strong rope through my hands. Our well-practised assault made a great return rate on rabbit, boar and deer; we’d just never tried it on Pantheonite guards.

  Max stepped forward a couple more paces, pulling a dagger and blindfold from his leather belt. The guards were clearly visible now and seemed very distracted among themselves, playing some sort of game that involved a handful of crudely shaped die.

  ‘Five, four …?’ I signed, starting to throw a small loop.

  He nodded before creeping forward a final few steps. Then the air stilled just as it always did before a kill in the forest, and I let the rope fly. My aim was true, dropping over the shoulders of the two rear guards, before I yanked back hard.

  The element of surprise is more valuable than brute strength, Talia.

  Grandpa’s wisdom echoed in my ears as the two heavy Pantheonites sprawled onto the rock floor, too winded to call out a warning.

  Max was as swift and precise as he always was in the forest, jumping on the looped guards and stunning them before they had chance to call out. Leaving the third. Who clambered to his feet and started to run.

  ‘Max!’ I hissed, taking aim with my catapult, just as Pan bolted past me.

  He reached the third guard in a heartbeat, and leaping high over his head, planted a thick hoof squarely in his chest, sending him sprawling back towards the mouth of the tunnel. The sheer velocity of his kick meant the guard slid nearly as far as my feet.

  Quick as a flash, I jumped on his chest, and ran what was left of the rope around the guard’s mouth, hands and ankles, trussing him like a chicken for roasting. I repeated the manoeuvre on the concussed duo, and only looked up when I was satisfied none of them could move or call out.

  It was only then that I noticed Max and Pan were watching.

 
; ‘What? Girls can’t do rope?’ I glared, returning my small paring knife to its sheath.

  ‘Just admiring the origami!’ Max teased.

  And for a second, I thought I detected a glimmer of a smile on Pan’s face too.

  ‘Cameras?’ I whispered, raising my eyebrows.

  Max grimaced. Neither of us had forgotten the screens in the Flavium. Octavia had shown moving images of us, edited in a way that made us look like Prolet insurgents to the baying crowd. I had no idea if Cassius was using the same equipment, but had no desire to shine a spotlight on our arrival either.

  With the three bemused guards bound and trussed in the shadows of the rock face, I cast a long look around at the all-too-familiar surroundings.

  ‘It looks empty,’ Max muttered.

  He was right. The old, rickety interconnecting walkways were silent, and the individual sleeping caves mined into the rock wall seemed completely devoid of life. In the old Prolet world, there had always been a buzzing undercurrent of life, repressed or not. Now there seemed to be only a cold, empty waiting. It didn’t make any sense. I ran my eyes over the dank walls again. There was the rickety walkway, the glowing fire pit, and vaulted cavernous ceiling, speckled with tiny glowing lights.

  I paused, frowning.

  There hadn’t been so many individual lights before, I was sure of it, which meant they were a new addition. Perhaps it was one of the changes August had implemented, an improvement to Prolet sleeping quarters. Tiny star lights, which moved.

  I thrust an arm across Max’s chest, certain one of the lights had just slid across the ceiling. But we were too far away to be sure. Pan sidled up beside me, his attention snagged too. There was a faint click as his eyes focused, followed by a swift intake of breath as he shrank back against the wall.

  ‘What is it?’ Max whispered from the other side.

  ‘I’m not completely sure,’ I scowled, ‘but I think the ceiling might just be a little … alive.’

  Chapter 10

  Pan’s silent dread was worse than all the shrieking in the world.