The Unmaking: The Last Days of Tian Di, Book Two

by Egan, Catherine

  “Get Charlie,” she said.

  He staggered to his feet. Nell tried to do the same, but she couldn’t, so she remained on her hands and knees. When she looked up, Ander had Charlie slung over his shoulder.

  “I spec it’s too late, Nell,” said Ander.

  Indeed, the limp, greyish form hanging over his shoulder did not look anything like a boy anymore. Something ink-black floated in long threads from the wet spaces that were once mouth and eyes. Nell looked away. She crawled along the edge of the canyon, and Ander followed after her.

  Charlie must nay die, she repeated in her head, over and over, like a mantra. Charlie cannay die. Her hands and knees were numb. Her vision blurred and cleared and blurred again. She longed to lie down, to be still. But Charlie must nay die, she repeated. It felt like hours, though it was not nearly so long as that, before she found the narrow trail down the side of the canyon that Charlie and Eliza had told her about. She forced herself to move a little faster, though she could not rise from a crawl. And there, there it was, the dusty ledge, the dark craggy opening in the cliff. The walls and ground of the cave were fleshy and lightly furred.

  She tried to speak and found she had no voice, so she pointed into the cave. Ander carried Charlie inside. Nell looked at him as he passed – his mottled grey flesh hung soft and boneless, and still the dark strands bled from the corners of his mouth and eyes – and quickly looked away again. As the rock face ground closed over Charlie, Nell’s mind, too, shut tight. She curled into a ball right there on the stony ledge. Later she did not remember Ander carrying her back up the trail to the helicopter. He had learned long ago how to close his mind to pain and keep moving. There was a tent and various emergency supplies in the back of the helicopter. He pitched the tent in the small amount of shade the chopper offered, dragged Nell inside it, and then he too lay down at last and let this strange new world close around him.

  ~~~

  When Nell opened her eyes, it was very dark in the tent. Her head was pounding and she was sore all over, as if she had been badly beaten. She sat up with a groan. Ander was still sleeping but she woke him to give him some water. The water refreshed them both and they crawled out of the tent. It was night. Bright comets slashed across the sky and three moons performed a slow circling dance together. To the south, the hanging gardens of the Sparkling Deluder twinkled and shone, changing shape, offering up wheels of glowing blossoms, cities of stars, leaping figures and spangled forests swaying in a gleaming breeze.

  “Will you look at that,” said Ander, his voice hoarse.

  “It’s beautiful,” said Nell.

  “You think so?” Ander looked around them and shuddered. “Looks a lonely, unfriendly sort of place, to me.”

  He made sandwiches with the supplies Nell had brought but she could only manage a few bites before her head began to spin and her stomach recoil. They slept again and it was day when they woke. This time they were both hungry. Ander prepared some packaged soup over a little camping stove.

  “Lah, did you know it would be that bad?” he asked, handing her a bowl once it was ready.

  Nell nodded. “But I passed out last time. I spec it’s worse if you dinnay pass out.”

  “You should’ve told me, aye” said Ander.

  “Sorry,” said Nell. “It didnay seem like the most important thing at the time.”

  Ander gave a short laugh that was more of a snort. “That thing is lucky to have a friend like you.”

  “He’s nay a thing,” said Nell.

  “Lah, what is he, then?”

  Nell looked up at the sky. “It’s complicated,” she said.

  “Lah, I’ve no doubt about that,” said Ander. “But you’ve got me here, so why dinnay you try doing a little bit of explaining.”

  Camped on this deserted plain, with the Ravening Forest on one side and the ruined Temples on the other, Nell was more frightened and unsure than she had expected to be. To comfort herself as much as to fill him in, she told Ander the whole story of her forgotten journey with Charlie and Eliza. She felt better and better as she spoke. She sounded to herself like a hero in a storybook.

  “So now what?” asked Ander when she was done. “I hate to say it, but I spec...look, Nell, your friend wasnay showing much sign of life when we put him in there. We cannay wait here for him to pop out again when he may nary do so.”

  “He’ll be fine,” Nell insisted.

  “Praps so,” said Ander doubtfully. “But then he can take care of himself, nay?”

  “I spec so,” Nell agreed. “Lah, you’re right, we cannay just wait here. We’ve got to find Swarn.”

  “That witch you were talking about?”

  “Eliza might be with her already, aye, but if she’s nay there she’ll definitely need Swarn’s help. We should warn her.”

  Ander shook his head. “I dinnay think flying a chopper around a strange world full of beasties who can do Magic is a good plan at all, Nell. We’ve done what you came here to do, aye. Now it’s time to go back.”

  “We have nothing left to pay for the way back,” pointed out Nell. Ander stared at her in horror. Nell said nothing for a moment, rather enjoying the effect this had had. Then she said, “Swarn and other great beings can command the Boatman. So if we want to go back, aye, we’ll need her help.”

  Ander gave her a look that was already becoming familiar.

  “I couldnay tell you everything before we came,” she protested. “There wasnay time!”

  “Fine.” Ander got to his feet and began to take the tent down. “Let’s go find this witch.”

  ~~~

  As they passed over the Ravening Forest in the helicopter, Nell warned Ander that they might encounter dragons in the Dead Marsh. He gave her that look again and said, “What am I supposed to do if that happens?”

  “Land,” suggested Nell. “They’ll probably just take us to Swarn. That’s what happened last time.”

  This was very naïve of her. Dragons had a kind of Knowing beyond that of most other creatures. When they had found Eliza in the marsh more than two years ago, they knew enough to be curious, enough to know Swarn should be curious too. But Ander and Nell would be no more than a snack. Had they ventured into a marsh full of dragons in a helicopter they would have quickly met a fiery end.

  Instead, what they found in the marsh was a slaughter. It was strewn with the broken bodies of dragons. Hundreds of them lay sinking in the muck, heads severed, hearts torn out. In the distance, a green light was burning.

  “By the Ancients!” whispered Ander.

  “There,” said Nell, pointing at the green light. “Land over there.”

  Something around her heart was crumpling and cracking like egg shells but she wouldn’t let herself think it yet, she wouldn’t wonder about Eliza. The helicopter hummed over the final battlefield of the cliff dragons and Ander set it down on a large protruding hump of moss, a safe distance from what they could now see was a heap of leaping green flames. Nell knew perfectly well what this must be. Eliza had told her about Swarn’s green fire that never went out. Her house was burning. Nell slid open the door of the helicopter and leaped out, sinking knee deep in the marsh.

  “Hang on,” Ander called after her. “Stick close to me!”

  But Nell was already scrambling straight towards the burning house with one of the blankets from the helicopter wrapped around her.

  The green fire gave off no smoke but it devoured the oxygen. As she approached, Nell found herself gasping for breath. The fire did not crackle; it burned in eerie silence, leaping hungrily over the ruins of the house. The roof had collapsed and was just a burning mass of bone and mud and scales now. Over her thundering heartbeat she heard a sound like a long hiss and then a spurt of pale green flame struck her.

  The blanket caught fire and she dropped it in the mud, wheeling about, looking for her attacker. It was half-buried by the house, its long neck and head pinned to the earth, its bright eyes flitting about fearfully. It was a very small drago
n, no bigger than the helicopter, and it had inexplicably tried to crawl into Swarn’s house, perhaps deeming it a safe place from the slaughter of its elders. The heat of the green fire and the airlessness was more than Nell could bear for long but she quickly took in the main beams of the house, huge dragon bones that now pinned this smaller dragon.

  The dragon spat feebly at her again. There were pools of green fire burning in wounds in its neck. She wetted the charred blanket in a muddy puddle and approached the dragon, steering clear of its great snapping jaws. The thing thrashed, terrified, as she tried to douse the green flames, but the marsh water and the blanket had no effect at all. She made her way back to the helicopter and Ander, who was looking around at the devastation in the marsh, dazed.

  “Is there rope in the helicopter?” she asked him breathlessly.

  “Rope?”

  “Yes! Rope! What’s the matter with you?”

  This seemed to shake him out of his reverie.

  “What’s the matter with you, running around like that? We dinnay know who did this, what’s going on. We should be getting out of here, not checking the place out.”

  Nell did not say the thing that was darting through her mind like poison, the sickening thought she could not catch and still – My friend might be in there. She said, “There’s a dragon trapped by the house. I think it’s a baby, aye. If we can pull off some of the roof beams it should be able to get free.”

  Ander squinted at the burning mass. “There’s rope in the lifeboat,” he said.

  Nell looked at the compact little helicopter in surprise. “What lifeboat?”

  Ander opened the pilot’s door and pulled a big tarpaulin square out from under the seat. This he let fall into the marsh. It was still linked to the helicopter by a thin rope, which he yanked. The tarpaulin square began to unfold and then inflate until a round rubber dinghy lay before them. He opened a flap in the dinghy and pulled out a bag of supplies. There was a knife, a flare gun, water-resistant matches, a tarpaulin for shade, whistles and a coil of sturdy rope.

  “We need to tie this around the main supporting beam that’s right across the dragon’s back. Pulling that one aside should roll the others off, aye, and the dragon should be able to move,” said Nell.

  Ander glanced at the burning heap again. “Those are bones?” he exclaimed. “Lah, I hate to say it, my girl, but I’m just a policeman and I dinnay have superhuman strength. I’m nay going to be able to pull one of those off.”

  Nell rolled her eyes at him in exasperation and he said, “Oh, aye.”

  She set about tying one end of the rope firmly to the skids of the chopper while Ander started it up.

  The helicopter rising into the air and settling very close by, agitated the poor trapped dragon terribly. It belched out smoke and fire and twisted its neck about in vain. Nell took the other end of the rope and raced in among the flames. The heat on her skin was scorching but she managed to climb up on the mound of bone and mud without actually touching any of the flames and fixed the rope around the largest of the roof beams. She ran back a safe distance and waved her arms at Ander. Her face felt hot and dry and she examined her clothes anxiously for any green fire but found none. Ander took the chopper slowly upwards. The mound of burning house began to shift. The great roof beam, perhaps the thighbone of a very large dragon, came loose and was pulled into the air by the helicopter. The other bones tilted and tumbled away. Nell had expected the trapped dragon to immediately take off, but it was slow to move. When the weight pinning it was lifted, it thrashed about a bit before dragging itself away from the burning rubble, then collapsed again. Nell approached cautiously, still keeping a safe distance from its head. The poor thing was covered in little pools of green fire and one of its wings was nearly torn from its body. Its leg, too, was badly broken. The creature was clearly in pain and very angry.

  Nell circled the heap of burning rubble, more spread out now that the roof beams had rolled to the base of the mound. She took up a long yellowed tooth, half her own height, that had been part of the fence. She poked at the heap of flaming mud and scale with the tooth, but she knew she would not be able to properly excavate it. She saw a battered cauldron, half-melted, and bits of weapons. Swarn had not had a great many possessions. There were no signs, at least, that anyone had been inside. Alarm followed fast on the first rush of relief. There was no way to find them, now. Without them, there was no way to get back to Di Shang, unless they began to offer up memories or hopes or other parts of themselves that, she knew from experience, were too precious to part with. She looked at the dragon again. It lay in the marsh and clawed at the mud. Ander had landed and was untying the huge bone from the helicopter.

  “Lah, we’re done!” he shouted. “Let’s get out of here!”

  “We have to help it,” she said, joining him by the helicopter.

  “Only way I can think of is shooting the poor creature in the head,” said Ander. “Though a gun wouldnay be much use against a dragon, come to think of it.”

  “If we can heal it, I’m sure it could lead us to Swarn,” said Nell. “It looks as though she wasnay here when Nia came through. This must be Nia’s doing, nay?”

  “Who?”

  “The Xia Sorceress.”

  “Oh, aye, you and she are on a first-name basis, are you?” Ander gave her an incredulous look. “I cannay tell if this is her handiwork or not.”

  “Who else would be strong enough to slaughter a marsh full of dragons?”

  “Are you asking me or telling me?”

  “Lah, it doesnay matter who did it. We need to find someone who can heal this dragon.”

  “We’re nay getting it to that cave, I’ll tell you that much. It’s as big as the chopper as it is. I dinnay think there’s much we can do for it.”

  The sky was darkening to a bloody crimson. The Irahok mountains loomed to the north, jagged and icy, and the dark shapes of slain dragons were scattered across the marsh in every direction. There was no sound but the rattling and rasping of the young dragon’s laboured breath. Nell felt her knees go watery again. She had imagined arriving triumphantly in the marsh by helicopter and then being part of some great adventure with Eliza and Swarn. Instead, she was alone with a confused policeman in a marsh full of dead dragons and she didn’t know what to do next. Well, she was fairly certain Eliza didn’t go weak in the knees whenever she had a problem to deal with. She pinched herself hard on the arm and drew in a sharp, shuddering breath. The stories she had heard from Eliza and Charlie tended not to include many friendly Tian Xia worlders. The only beings besides Swarn and her dragons that had helped Eliza in any way were the Faithful.

  “We’ll go back to the temples,” she decided. “Even if the Faithful are nay there, praps we can find some trace of where they’ve gone.”

  “What temples? Who? What are you talking about?” Ander ran his hands through his hair agitatedly. He had an awful sinking sense that he was being dragged deeper and deeper into something he did not understand or care to understand.

  “By the lake of the Crossing. There were temples not far from where we landed, aye. They’d been attacked too, I think.”

  “It’s a blur, lah. I wasnay feeling my best.”

  “We should go there now.” She meant to sound decisive, confident, but everything she said came out in a high-pitched babble.

  “It’s getting dark,” Ander commented. “But I dinnay fancy camping here.”

  The dragon let out a sudden roar of pain and dragged itself a little further on its belly. Nell shuddered and looked away.

  “No, we have to hurry,” she said. “We’ll just have some food and go straight back. How are we for fuel?”

  Ander refilled the engine from their supply and they left the dragon with its burning wounds and torn body behind in the marsh among the hundreds of dead dragons. They flew through the night, over the forest. Nell thought she could still hear the dragon roaring in pain long after they had left the marsh behind them. It was nearing daw
n when Ander put the helicopter down by the ruined temples.

  “Think we’re seeing a sort of theme here,” he commented, drinking from a bottle of water. “So you reckon this is your friend the Xia Sorceress’s doing too?”

  Nell took the bottle from him and finished it, then tossed it back into the helicopter.

  “I spec so,” she said. How glad she would be, right now, to lie down in her bed in Holburg or to watch television with her father! She straightened her shoulders and made for the temples. “Let’s look around.”

  What they found, again, was tragedy. There were many bodies crushed by the collapse of the temples but if Eliza had been accurate about the numbers of the Faithful, most had escaped. Broken statues and painted walls lay crumbled in great heaps. Some of the temples had been reduced to rubble while others stood charred, with only sections caved in. Broken as they were, the temples were easy to climb. Nell wandered through the ruins, hoping to find someone alive. She peered into a room half open to the dawn sky, its remaining walls beautifully painted. Her eye was caught by a picture of a glittering sea-snake when somebody stepped in front of her, barring her view, and spoke in a language she did not understand. What she did understand very well, however, was that a narrow steel blade was pointed straight at her throat.

  Chapter

  ~12~

  Eliza had read a little of harrowghasters and heard some of Swarn’s stories about them but she had never seen one. In this she could count herself lucky, for none who laid eyes on them and lived to tell of it had ever described it as a pleasant experience. Beings caught between life and death, they were among the most fearsome predators in Tian Xia. Emaciated and yet possessed of inhuman strength, with dank, matted hair and rotting skin the colour of a mottled bruise, they looked and smelled of death. They lived on the hearts of mortal beings and could stop the blood and breath of any living creature with a mere touch. After paralyzing their victims in this way, they cut out the heart, drank it dry and ate it. The story had it that, long before the separation of the worlds, the harrowghasters had been a tribe of noble and rebellious humans, until a malevolent Faery Cursed them into this terrible form for eternity. Beheading them or cutting out their withered hearts, widely considered a reliable way of killing any mortal creature, was of no use. They died only when deprived of heart’s blood for a period of many months, growing gradually weaker until they fell into total decay. Beings with power kept them at bay with barriers and enchantments. Others stayed away if they could. During the war harrowghasters had crossed over in great hordes, moving through villages and leaving only corpses in their wake. Now fourteen of these monstrous creatures were walking the halls of the Mancer Citadel.