The Remnant
Page 1
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Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Man Sunday Ltd.
Excerpt from Battlemage copyright © 2015 by Stephen Aryan
Excerpt from A Crown for Cold Silver copyright © 2015 by Alex Marshall
Cover design by Lauren Panepinto
Cover illustration by Kirk Dou Ponce/DogEared Design
Cover copyright © 2017 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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Simultaneously published in Great Britain and in the U.S. by Orbit in 2017
First U.S. Edition: March 2017
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2016960630
ISBNs: 978-0-316-27956-7 (trade paperback); 978-0-316-27958-1 (ebook)
E3-20170202-JV-PC
Contents
COVER
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
DEDICATION
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
EPIGRAPH
SNOW ON THE RIVER
FIRST PART: TRAVELLER’S TALES ON THE UNCERTAIN MECHANICK OF THE MIRROR’D WORLD AND ITS ILLUSORY POTENTIAL
CHAPTER 1: FROM A DISTANT SHORE
CHAPTER 2: HERNE THE HUNTER
CHAPTER 3: THE BLOODY HOMECOMING
CHAPTER 4: THE RUNNING DOG
CHAPTER 5: OF FIRE AND MIRRORS
CHAPTER 6: UNDER THE HORNBEAM
CHAPTER 7: THE PROCTOR
CHAPTER 8: THE LUSTS OF ABCHURCH TEMPLEBANE
CHAPTER 9: AN UNEXPECTED DIVERSION
CHAPTER 10: FOR WANT OF A TWELVE-INCH BASTARD
SECOND PART: THE RETURNED ON THE UNKINDNESS OF RAVENS
CHAPTER 11: EVERY HOMECOMING A BETRAYAL
CHAPTER 12: NORTH BY STEAM
CHAPTER 13: WIGHTS
CHAPTER 14: THE GUARDIAN
CHAPTER 15: HOME AND NOT HOME
CHAPTER 16: ARMBRUSTER AND MAGILL
CHAPTER 17: THE COMING STORM
CHAPTER 18: THE ISLAND WITHIN THE ISLAND
CHAPTER 19: ARRIVAL
CHAPTER 20: THE KINGLESS COUNTING-HOUSE
CHAPTER 21: THE HOUSE AT THE END OF THE WORLD
CHAPTER 22: OLD FRIENDS
CHAPTER 23: THE DEATH OF HOPE
CHAPTER 24: THE SOUTERRAIN
CHAPTER 25: THE ADMONITORY FLOORBOARD
CHAPTER 26: THE UNKINDNESS OF RAVENS
THIRD PART: BREAKING AND ENTERING ON THE AMERICAS
CHAPTER 27: THE CUNNING MAN CASTS A FLY
CHAPTER 28: PLANS AND DECISIONS
CHAPTER 29: THE VIGIL
CHAPTER 30: HUNTER’S MOON
CHAPTER 31: SILENCE IN BEDLAM
CHAPTER 32: BLOOD CRIES OUT
CHAPTER 33: THIEVES IN THE NIGHT
CHAPTER 34: A SHORTCUT FROM MARBLEHEAD
CHAPTER 35: A SCOWLE BY MOONLIGHT
CHAPTER 36: THE OLD ENEMY AND A NEW RECRUIT
CHAPTER 37: THE TWIG AND THE RILL
CHAPTER 38: THE VIOLATION
CHAPTER 39: NIGHT AND THE DREADNOUGHT PORTER
CHAPTER 40: THE MONARCH ENGAGED
CHAPTER 41: THE DOG DIGGER AND THE BAD STEP
CHAPTER 42: A DEAD DAY AFTER
FOURTH PART: THE LOWEST TIDE ON THE GOLEM
CHAPTER 43: THE EXCHANGE
CHAPTER 44: OUT OF THE GLASS CLOSET
CHAPTER 45: EXCHANGE OF GIFTS
CHAPTER 46: THE INBOUND CHILL
CHAPTER 47: UNDER THE KILLING FLOOR
CHAPTER 48: A BLADE TO SHUCK AN OYSTER
CHAPTER 49: MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS
CHAPTER 50: THE FINAL CUT
CHAPTER 51: A FACE AT THE WINDOW
CHAPTER 52: THE BLOODIEST BOY
CHAPTER 53: THE WILDFIRE UNBOUND
CHAPTER 54: FIRE ON FIRE
CHAPTER 55: TIME PASSED
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
EXTRAS MEET THE AUTHOR
A PREVIEW OF BATTLEMAGE
A PREVIEW OF A CROWN FOR COLD SILVER
BY CHARLIE FLETCHER
ORBIT NEWSLETTER
For Jackmo and A-Girl from C-Dog
with all love, forever
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
THE OVERSIGHT
The Smith – smith, ringmaker and counsellor
Sara Falk – keeper of the Safe House in Wellclose Square
Mr. Sharp – protector and sentinel
Cook – once a pirate
Hodge the Terrier Man – ratcatcher at the Tower of London, blinded
Charlie Pyefinch – apprentice ratcatcher
Ida Laemmel – huntress, mountaineer and member pro tem, from Die Wachte in Austria
and
Emmet – a man of clay
Jed – an Old English Terrier
Archie – a young Old English Terrier crossbreed
The Raven – an ancient bird
IN LONDON
Francis Blackdyke, Viscount Mountfellon – man of science turned supranaturalist
The Citizen – a sea-green incorruptible, thought dead
A captive Sluagh – an experimental subject
A Green Man – a similarly unfortunate captive
Lemuel Bidgood – magistrate and fount of local knowledge
John Rogers Watkins – owner of the steam-tug the Monarch
William Ketch – a Bedlam porter once a bibulous reprobate, now dry
A whey-faced child – a housebound invalid, given to watching the world from her window
Ruby – a rentable lovely with sharp eyes
IN THE COUNTRYSIDE AND THEN LONDON
The Ghost of the Itch Ward – formerly of the Andover Workhouse, real name unknown
Amos Templebane – adopted son of Issachar (mute but intelligent)
THE TEMPLEBANES AND THEIR SERVANTS
Issachar Templebane Esq. – lawyer and broker
Coram Templebane – adopted son, once a favourite, now much reduced
Abchurch Templebane – lustful adopted son, of considerable viciousness
Garlickhythe Templebane – adopted son, sharpshooter
Vintry, Shadwell and assorted other Templebane sons – adopted, variously talented, uniformly malevolent
and
Dorcas – a housemaid, accidentally beautiful and purposefully no coward
ON THE CONTINENT OF NORTH AMERICA
Caitlin Sean ná Gaolaire – a venatrix, from Skibbereen
Lucy Harker – a Glint and a lost girl, notionally her apprentice
Obadiah Tittensor – own
er and master of Lady of Nantasket, out of Boston, Mass.
IN PARIS
The red-faced man – eminent merchant, fur trader, surprised
Clothilde – a biddable domestic
The Wachman brothers – Alps
THE REMNANT
The Guardian – first among equals in the Great Circle of The Remnant
Prudence Tittensor – wife of Obadiah, holder of secrets
The bitch Shay – a running dog of great accomplishments
The dog Digger – her offspring
The Proctor – an armed regulator
Sister Lonnegan – owner of an unbridled tongue
F. Armbruster Esq. – hunter, guide, trapper, prospector, mountain man
Jon Magill Esq. – the same
IN THE HEBRIDES
A driver – from Portree; owner of pony and trap, for hire
Donald Ban MacCrimmon – steward of Dunvegan Castle, not the piper his forefathers were
Beira – “Màthair nam Fitheach,” very old lady living at the House at the End of the World
RUTLANDSHIRE
A footman
Coachman Turner – an unfortunate Phaeton
The head gardener – a poor man of fatally good intentions
BETWEEN THE WORLDS
John Dee – known as The Walker between the Worlds
Two roundheads – Mirror Wights, brothers
A woodsman and a pussers mate – Mirror Wights, unrelated
BEYOND LAW AND LORE
The Herne – a hunter, horned
The Nose and the Sight Hound – his bone dogs
Badger Skull – a Sluagh chieftain
Hawk Skull – a vengeful Sluagh
Woodcock Crown – an irreducible Sluagh
The Shee – wives to the Sluagh
Geradeso wie unsere Leben aus dem Nichts entstehen
und im Nichts enden,
so sind alle Reisen ein Kreis.
Und ganz egal wie weit uns unsere Reise fuehrt—wir enden alle an unseren Anfangen.
Just as our lives come from nothing
and end as nothing,
so all journeys are a circle.
And no matter how far the road takes us, we all end at our beginnings.
Carl Fleischl von Marxow
SNOW ON THE RIVER
In the end there is silence.
In the end she is in the water, but she cannot see the city.
In the end, at the very end, Sara Falk drowning in the Thames can see nothing but flame.
And failure.
And her hand, reaching, trying to catch the sky, trying to hold onto the air, trying to stop the growling river swallowing her too.
She is the last of the Last Hand.
She does not wonder if there will be another.
She does not wonder if one day The Smith will return and build anew.
Instead she wonders why the snow that is falling from the sky into the flaming river has come so early this year.
And she wonders when it will start to hurt.
And then she realises it already hurts. She realises it has always hurt. She realises it will never, ever stop hurting now, even if she alone survives this.
Because the others have not.
Because Sharp has not.
The Last Hand fallen. The Wildfire free.
No more hope.
No more heroes.
No more him.
FIRST PART
TRAVELLER’S TALES
Caelum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt.
Those who run across the sea change the sky, not their soul.
Horace
ON THE UNCERTAIN MECHANICK OF THE MIRROR’D WORLD AND ITS ILLUSORY POTENTIAL
There are two ways in which the precise geometry of the mirror’d world may be accessed to effect a journey between widely separate physical locations: in the first, the traveller, equipp’d with both the ability and two parallel mirrors, steps through the surface of one looking-glass into the infinitely receding passageway afforded by the reflection of one upon the other, and then negotiates his way within that passage and all its attendant crossways. Wayfinding through the wilderness of mirrors is effected by a curious device of nested ivory balls known as the Coburg Ivories. Using this first method is fraught with danger and subject to too much unwonted jeopardy to be seriously considered, except in desperation. The second way allows for instantaneous transmission of the traveller between two looking-glasses that have in some manner been tuned one to the other, as a match’d pair of viols sustaining the same vibratory note: the traveller steps into one glass in—say—London and steps out of the twinn’d mirror in—again say—Leiden, as simply as striding through a doorway … The mechanicks of this are not known to me, but passage by the looking-glass is ever a perilous and unchancy thing, for there is nothing to be trusted about the mirror’d world. It is both snare and illusion. If this was not enough to discourage the putative mirror-walker, there are the added dangers of the Mirror Wights who reportedly haunt the world behind the glass, and though a man may travel the wilderness behind the world’s surface, time does not travel with him at the same rate which is its own kind of peril …
From The Great and Hidden History of the World by the Rabbi Dr. Hayyim Samuel Falk (also known as the Ba’al Shem of London)
CHAPTER 1
FROM A DISTANT SHORE
“It smells different,” said Lucy Harker, looking down at the bustling quayside from the temporarily elevated vantage point afforded by the top of the gangplank leading down from the deck of the Lady of Nantasket, newly berthed alongside Belcher’s Wharf, Port of Boston.
“What does?” said Caitlin Sean ná Gaolaire, who had already reached the foot of the plank.
“America,” said Lucy. “It smells … cleaner.”
“Cleaner than the wide, wind-scoured Atlantic?” said Caitlin. “Sure but you’re joking, aren’t you?”
“Cleaner than London,” said Lucy.
Caitlin filled her nostrils and considered the redolent mixture of smells as if noticing them for the first time.
“Less shite, more pine,” she scowled, after a beat of reflection.
Lucy sighed. The fact was that the voyage across the Atlantic had not been an easy one for either of them: the Lady of Nantasket had been vexingly beset by contrary winds, and then something noisy and abrupt had happened to the steering gear which had necessitated a running repair that had added extra time and discomfort to the journey. More than that, relations between herself and Cait had changed markedly. Lucy was not sure what had happened, but it was as if the enforced proximity within the confines of the vessel had made Cait regret the generous last-minute impulse with which she had agreed take the younger girl on and act as her mentor. In her own case, Lucy disapproved of the way Cait had worked on the captain and used her considerable powers to charm him, though she was aware enough of her own heart to know that the disapproval was not a moral one, being built rather from resentment and jealousy.
“It just eases the way,” Cait had said after Lucy had betrayed her feelings with an overly acid inquiry as to whether her notional tutor had enjoyed a recent visit to the bridge. “He’s flattered by the attention, but he’s a moral enough fellow, loves his wife too. Him liking me is just a means to our end. What I’m not happy with is you mooning about with a face like a slapped arse because I’m flirting harmlessly with the old feller. We had that conversation; we’re not having it again. Now, have you washed my things?”
Washing Cait’s clothes was part of Lucy’s duties. When she had asked what laundry had to do with being trained as a venatrix, Cait had sharply told her it had nothing to do with the deeper arts necessary for survival as a supranatural huntress, but everything to do with obedience, and that obedience was a necessary pre-condition to instruction.
“If you can’t bend yourself to do the simple things without bridling, you’re not going to be worth anyone’s while as a pupil,” Cait had said. “And certainly no
t any of mine. I’m not trying to break your will, for it’s a strong one and it’ll serve you well one of these days: I’m just seeing if you’ve the heart to put it aside when you need to.”
And maybe this was as much the problem as anything: her will. Becoming Cait’s apprentice had seemed like a welcome way of staying with her, but the truth was that the reason Lucy had wanted to stay was more to do with the great ache she felt when she looked at her tutor than any real desire to spend the stated year as her pupil. Cait had been frank and open—painfully so—about identifying the crush that the younger girl had on her and explaining that it would pass and that even if it didn’t, she was not disposed to return the affection in kind. What had not been properly assessed by either, on reflection, was whether Lucy was constitutionally able to take instruction.
She knew she was bad at this. She had been forced to survive on her own for most of her life, and was already resourceful and tough in her independence. She had enjoyed the unfamiliar companionship of The Oversight because she had come, despite herself, to like the other members of the Last Hand. But it was also in her nature to mistrust comfort as a softening snare and delusion, so as soon as she had noted this she had determined to leave, a decision only partially explained by her longing for Cait’s company.
The reality of the deal they had made on the quayside in London was less congenial than either had imagined. Rather than bonding, Lucy saw they had drifted apart. From her perspective, Cait had not recovered her normal good humour following an initial week of the voyage that had seen them both badly beset by seasickness. Lucy had regained her appetite and vigour, but apart from the time when she found smiles and laughter for the captain, ocean-going appeared to have sucked all Cait’s normal cheerfulness clean away.