The Huntress: Storm

by Sarah Driver

  ‘We have to be careful,’ she mouths, breath tight and ragged. ‘Olm will be lurking somewhere, waiting for us.’

  I shake my head. ‘He’s leading his army into battle.’

  ‘No, Mouse.  That’s partly why they elixirate – they don’t want to do the dirty work themselves. The Akhunds haven’t even a thread of magyk amongst them. They will stay safe behind their tower walls.’ Disgust tars her words.

  I bite my fingertips, struggling to untangle my thoughts. ‘So – one of us needs to watch for Olm while we find Kes, and the bottle they’re keeping her spirit in.’ I sigh. ‘Then I have to put my wrongs right. I have to get the Opals back.’

  She clasps my wrist, looking into my eyes. ‘You won’t be doing it alone,’ she says. ‘We all make mistakes, girl. Even future sea-captains.’

  My belly plunges, cos I’ve roved so far from that fate she don’t even know.

  Egret fits two blades to the knuckles of either hand, then presses them flat until they look like silver gloves. Then she peels open the small door and we squeeze out on our bellies, onto the polished marble floor of the passageway. The place is deserted, and proper eerie. When I listen hard, it’s as if there’s a high-pitched bell ringing at the edge of hearing.

  We stare up at the bottles, lined neatly on the shelves. Egret bites her lip. ‘Right. We have to find something about one of the bottles that reminds us of Kes.’

  ‘There’s hundreds of them,’ I say, before I can stop myself. She silences my doubts with a look.

  We search. There’s a ladder that must be used by slaves to get to the higher shelves, and Egret climbs it, picking up bottle after bottle.

  Then I hear a terrified, familiar beast-chatter.

  Ettler?

  The squidge pokes out from behind a row of bottles. He must’ve been too frighted to get away like I told him. One of his chubby tentacles is wrapped tightly around the neck of a glass bottle, and his black eyes shine with grief.

  ‘Egret,’ I whisper loudly. ‘Come here, now !’

  ‘What?’ asks Egret breathlessly, jumping down from the ladder.

  ‘Found her,’ I gasp, pointing up at Ettler, who’s too terrified to chatter back to me.

  ‘And we’ve found you,’ creaks the voice of Akhund Olm. He slips out from behind a white marble pillar, followed by the mystik who elixirated the bear spirits.

  Egret springs towards Olm, slashing wildly with the blades fixed to her knuckles. She moves warrior-fast and fierce, whispering to the runes in her blades and making trails of sparks and colours jump from their hidden meanings.

  Olm covers his head with his arms. ‘Help me, you fool!’

  The mystik eyes Egret, as a smoky ball of fire brews on his palm.

  ‘You don’t have to do what he says!’ I yell. ‘He’s got no magyk of his own. He’s using yours for evil!’

  But the mystik flicks a string of red lightning at Egret and it hits her in the ribs, sending her crashing to the floor.

  Ettler, I chatter urgently, as I rush to Egret’s side.  Be brave. Bring me that bottle, and please please please don’t drop it!

  To my right, Olm groans. Bright drops of blood are pattering onto the floor from a long cut in his arm. Egret hauls herself up and clutches the wall, swaying with exhaustion. Then she pushes me away and flings herself at the mystik, roaring a battle-cry.

  Now, Ettler! I shout.

  The squidge weeps and grumbles, farting ink that trickles over the lip of the shelf, onto the bottles below. Gods – what if his grip’s too slippery? You can do it, Ettler! Come on, make your tentacles strong. You can—

  A body slams into me, strangling my chatter. ‘Stop that hideous mewling!’ whines Olm.

  But Egret charges at him, blades poised for his throat.

  Ettler lands in the crook of my arm, still gripping the spirit-bottle tightly.  Well done, little beast! I scoop him and the bottle into my pocket and call for Egret. She detaches herself from the Akhund, who’s lying on the floor, breathing raggedly.

  We back away, into the room where they tried to drain my spirit. Kestrel stands frozen in her place among the ranks of the elixirated. Egret grabs her hand and pulls her away from the others, and I unstopper the spirit-bottle. Egret holds up a shaky hand. ‘Wait – how do we know it’s really hers? I know the squidge was holding the bottle, but . . .’ She takes the bottle from me and holds it up to her face.

  ‘Don’t!’ I warn. ‘You might sniff her spirit up your nose.’

  She frowns into the bottle. ‘There’s a silvery tangle in there,’ she says sadly. ‘It’s beautiful, but it’s hard to believe it could be enough to belong to that big-spirit girl.’ Then she pushes Kes’s head back, opening her mouth, and tips her spirit down her throat.

  I press Kes’s chin shut to make her swallow.

  ‘Kes,’ says Egret, voice iron-strong, but underneath I can sense a quiver of desperation. ‘Kestrel. It’s time to wake up, now.’ She reaches up to her shoulders and gives her a shake.

  But Kestrel’s face stays blank and her eyes stay dull.

  No. This ent how it goes. It can’t be.

  ‘Kes,’ hisses Egret, lip wobbling. ‘Please. I need you to wake up.’ I can see how long she’s been trying to stay strong.

  ‘Let’s get her to the Forest,’ I whisper. ‘We can’t stay here.’

  Egret don’t answer.

  ‘I need your help,’ I beg, as I try to drag Kes towards the door.

  We each take one of her arms and lead her out of the room.

  Olm blocks the doorway, leaning on his tooth-staff. In the ceiling of the corridor, a black puddle drips slime.

  Egret springs like a cat and presses her blades to his neck. ‘Let us out now, or die.’

  A soft laugh burbles from his lips. ‘That is well and fine. Go, good children.’

  Egret releases him, curling her lip. ‘Why?’

  Olm rocks with silent laughter. ‘You think you matter.’ He hugs himself gleefully. ‘You think you can do anything, now? The Opals were the only reason that creature mattered.’ He points at me. ‘Now we have them, our mission is complete – as we speak, my hunters are gathering unsuspecting soldiers for our army. Thousands will be elixirated, all at the same moment – beauty untold! So please, do leave this place if you will, and wait your turn to die.’

  ‘You’re cracked!’ I yell at him, as Egret tries to drag me away. She wraps her arms around Kestrel and pulls her along with us. ‘Where are the Opals?’ I scream.

  ‘Just leave it,’ Egret snaps, pulling on my arm. ‘Let’s go!’

  We leap for the black puddle before it vanishes, and soon we’re spat out into upper Nightfall.

  We lurk underneath the sill of one of the College windows, arguing about where to go next. Shutters bang closed, all along the street. Wild winds kick snow into our eyes. The lamplighters douse the street-lanterns with a sizzling, gassy hiss. ‘I have friends we can go to,’ I tell Egret, while Kestrel stares around blankly, not even rubbing the snow from her eyes.

  ‘Who?’ whispers Egret.

  When I tell her, the runesmith’s nostrils flare. ‘The Spidermaster is one of the most important people in the city. How can we trust him ?’

  I hesitate. ‘He’s the one that sent me to Olm.’ Egret’s brows quirk into outraged arcs, but I let my thoughts flow. ‘But I ent sure how many folk here know the truth about the Akhunds, or the Skadowan. And I rescued the Spidermaster’s daughter from slavers. She smuggled me into the city. Without them, we’ll never get out again.’

  Egret nods. ‘Fine. What choice do we have, anyway?’

  No Spiderbuses are running, so we trudge all the way back to the Spidermaster’s shop using the map Olm gave me. We scuff around in the street, faces bitten blind by sleet-bladed wind, until there’s no one else in the Spidertoken shop. Then we whisk inside.

  Blue spots me and leads us down the passage to the back rooms. ‘We were so worried when you didn’t come back! Pa’s been searching ever
ywhere for you! He even stopped looking for his spiders,’ she adds, in an awed tone.

  She brings us to the kitchen, where a wild-haired Spidermaster and ashen-faced Nanny are clutching steaming cups of kaffy. They leap to their feet when they see us, Nanny’s chair falling backwards with a clatter.

  I tell them everything that’s happened, and Nanny sits with her hand clapped to her mouth.

  ‘Child, I am so sorry!’ exclaims the Spidermaster. ‘I hadn’t the faintest notion of the true nature of the Akhund.’

  He grabs his coat and hat and a whip.

  ‘Pa, you’re not going out spider-hunting again now, are you?’ asks Blue, fret pinching her features.

  ‘No.’ His hat coughs out a splutter of old smog, and he takes it off to tap it against the table. ‘I am taking my best beauties and going with you and your friends. They need our help. Nanny, close the shop, draw the shutters, and don’t let anyone in. Olm will be sending people after you, so we must leave now.’

  Nanny nods, clutching fistfuls of her skirts. Then she races through to the shop and the front door bangs shut. We listen to the snapping of the shutters.

  The Spidermaster unlocks the cages in the passageway. He returns to the kitchen, spiders lining up behind him. ‘I once had three thousand beauties in my fleet, living at a central Spiderbus station, serving both the inner and outer parts of the city. Now I can only offer you a hundred – some are here already, some we will collect on the way.’ Heart-sadness clouds his face for a beat, before steely resolve toughens it. ‘But they will follow me into any battle.’

  One by one, we drop through the floor of the Spiders’ Lair, into the sewers beneath. The Spidermaster whistles, and a spider pokes its legs through the hole, then sploshes after us. The others follow, plunking one by one into the sewer.

  We flee underneath the city, through the spider-paths. The shadows of spiders flicker across the walls. We stick close behind the Spidermaster’s flapping cloak. ‘Keep pace with me,’ he instructs.

  ‘Won’t they find us, down here?’ demands Egret, struggling to keep Kestrel walking fast enough.

  ‘The Akhunds shouldn’t come down here – in all my years, this has been my domain. Others do not step here, for they fear my beauties.’

  ‘And when we emerge?’ she challenges.

  ‘My position in this city is a long-trusted, powerful one,’ he assures her firmly. ‘We shouldn’t be challenged. The main thing is that we appear purposeful.’

  Outside the city walls the Forest of Nightfall waits on the hill, seeping eerie silence. Terrodyls swirl above the treetops. The spiders balk at the sight of them, rearing and stepping backwards.

  As the Spidermaster fights to regain control of his beasts, I stare at the dense wall of branches and needles. They seem to have coiled tighter, refusing us a way in.

  ‘Toadflax?’ I call softly. ‘Leo? Astraia?’ I watch over my shoulder for signs of the Skadowan. ‘Come on!’

  ‘We can’t wait here,’ says Egret, taking a silver throwing arrow and fitting it between her knuckles. ‘Let’s forge a way through.’ She leans her shoulder into the branches and uses her other hand to hack at the brambles, twigs and vines.

  ‘You shouldn’t cut them,’ says Blue, anxiously.

  Egret ignores her. I hold onto the blank-faced Kestrel, who keeps trying to wander off.

  Every time Egret cuts the foliage, it heals. Eventually, a branch snakes free and shoves her so she lands with a thump in the snow. She curses, wiping sweaty black hair from her forehead.

  Then I spot a shape above the trees that sings joy into my veins.  Thaw!

  Two-legs girl of nest-home flew too long, Thaw fretting in skull!

  Sorry, Thaw! Can you tell the green-chatterer, Toadflax, that we’re back? Get her to let us in – quickly, Thaw-beast!

  She hoots, soaring away and disappearing from sight.

  Soon, a tunnel slowly unravels from the thickets, tall enough for the spiders to squeeze into. When the last of us is through, the branches weave closed, and relief spreads through my belly. We follow the rootsy, musty smell of green-chatterers and wind-chatterers using their powers to hold the terrodyls back. Finally, the tunnel opens out into a clearing.

  Two-legs nest-place girl! Home! Thaw swoops from the sky and lands on me so hard that my knees bend under her weight.

  Thaw girl! You are one beautiful sight!

  Thaw flew to two-legs but two-legs gone!

  I’m sorry, Thaw. I went looking for Kestrel. I reckoned I knew what I was doing, but I didn’t.

  She hoots, showing forgiveness by nudging her smooth head under my chin.

  As my eyes grow forest-focused, I notice the crowd that’s assembled in the Glade of Sorrows. They turn to face us.

  ‘Mouse?’ Crow climbs shakily to his feet, still not fully changed back to a boy. Then he, Sparrow and Old One are climbing all over me, weeping, laughing, tugging at my cloak and hair. Frog and Bear sweep me into tight hugs, eyes sparkling. Even Lunda steps closer, gifting me a swift pat on the back.

  A thin, golden-haired man paces back and forth. He startled when we first appeared, but now he strides towards us.

  ‘Mouse!’ Da folds me into his arms.

  I pull away, squinting up at him. ‘Am I in proper trouble?’

  ‘If life’s sails were calm, no doubt you would be.’ He smiles, but heart-sadness dwells in his eyes. ‘But enough trouble has gripped us already.’

  Toadflax stares up at the scuttle-spiders.

  ‘This is the Spidermaster.’ I wave him forwards. ‘He’s a friend, here to help us.’

  ‘Myself and my beauties are at your service,’ he declares, sweeping a bow.

  Toadflax takes his hand in both of hers and thanks him heartily.

  Then Egret appears, leading Kestrel through the tunnel into the camp.

  ‘Daughter!’ cries Leo, rushing over and sweeping Kes into a hug. Kes’s arms hang limply by her sides. Disgust crawls over her face. Leo pulls back and takes Kestrel’s shoulders gently. ‘You’re so cold, child. And stiff as a board! Are you ill?’ She utters a soft gasp. ‘Kestrel, answer me!’

  When Leo looks to me, my mouth is dry. ‘She’s . . .’

  ‘Not herself,’ finishes Egret bluntly. She and Leo settle Kestrel on the floor.

  Kestrel’s fingers touch the ground. She rolls pine needles, picking at them. ‘Dirty,’ she mutters. ‘Work to do. Work—’ She stares up and around the clearing. ‘Not here !’

  ‘What’s wrong with her?’ says Leo, fright-bitten.

  ‘The Skadowan are in charge of Nightfall and they’re using the Opals to suck out spirits and build a soulless army.’ I steel myself to spill the next words. ‘They leeched Kestrel’s spirit out.’

  As the crowd surrounds me, I tell them everything I learnt at Nightfall, and everything Olm said about the Skadowan. Everything except the thing that makes guilt grip me.

  That I delivered the Sea and Sky Opals to them.

  Curses swirl around the clearing, mingled with gasps of horror and fright.

  ‘We found her spirit and made her drink it, but nothing happened,’ continues Egret. ‘Her body and soul are still – severed.’

  Leo covers her mouth with her hand and shakes her head. ‘No,’ she whispers hoarsely.

  Da puts a hand on Leo’s shoulder, tears coursing freely down his cheeks.

  ‘It’s still her, somewhere in there,’ I tell him. ‘We have to do something.’

  ‘Like what, Mouse?’ says Egret. She stands at the edge of the group. Toadflax watches her with heart-sadness.

  Egret presses a hand to her mouth, fury kicking up clouds in her eyes. I know that feeling, when you’re on the edge but you can’t show it, elsewise you’ll fall to pieces.

  I tip back my head and stare at the tops of the trees, spearing the sky. I have to hold myself proper still. Cos otherwise this fury building in my bones is gonna spill over.

  ‘I feel like all that time we spent forging links with the
youth has been wasted.’ Egret’s throat closes. She clears it. ‘Maybe I could have convinced her to stay at Hackles, where she belongs. Then none of this would have happened.’

  ‘But if you never rove, you never know what’s possible,’ I remind her, thinking of Kes’s true spirit, her thirst for adventure.

  Leo wipes her eyes. ‘Seeing the world outside Hackles is what she wanted, more than anything, Egret.’

  Egret looks up, eel-quick. ‘So what? It’s not like it was worth it.’

  She’s right. I look each one of them in the eye. ‘I wasn’t heart-truthful with you. I had two of the Opals with me when I went into Nightfall. Now the Skadowan have all three.’ My vision blurs with tears. ‘My pride clouded my choices. I’m sorry.’

  There’s a pause. Then Leo clasps my hands. ‘What’s done is done. You did what you thought was best.’

  I leave the three of them alone and head back to the main group, heart-heavy.

  More and more folk are emerging from the trees. There’s not just the crew from Hackles, but others that I don’t know.

  Da sees me looking. ‘They came when we spread the word about Mouse Arrow-Swift’s rebellion against Stag,’ he says proudly. ‘Once, they were too oppressed to act. But the fact that one young girl escaped her ship after a vicious mutiny, saved her brother, then her da, and found two of the Storm-Opals, has given the people enormous hope for a future they feared dead.’

  I swallow drily, my voice locked deep inside my pipes.  You’re all wrong about me. I’ve lost the Opals. The future IS dead.

  Lunda steps forwards. ‘We found out that the Wilder-King was imprisoning beast-chatterers in one of his icebergs. We rescued them and brought them here to help. The draggle-riders and the Marsh folk have taken the Iceberg Forest.’ She allows herself a proud smile and I can’t blame her. I nod my respect.

  ‘I am sorry for how I was before,’ she says, turning scarlet. ‘Are we crew, still?’

  ‘Course,’ I tell the Spearsister. ‘Didn’t you know a crew’s for life?’