Serena squared her shoulders, readying herself. ‘Did you want me to find it?’
‘Heavens, no! Serena, listen—most of the entries in that are gibberish, stories, nonsense. It-’
‘Is that what I am? A Siren? Did you guess that just because I have green hair?’
‘I… That’s not an easy question to answer, and not one we have the time to delve into right now. But no, plenty of Sirens are depicted with other shades of hair.’ Myriel looked away. ‘My drawing is just coincidence.’
‘Is it?’
‘I have papers allowing me to travel freely-’
‘Myriel?’
‘-across the city. We should go somewhere populated, where there’s-’
‘Myriel! I want answers.’
Myriel closed her eyes. ‘I understand that better than anyone, but there are dark forces at work here—this place isn’t safe.’
‘Oh really?’ Serena hissed. ‘I hadn’t noticed, between my crew dying and the Watch trying to kill me.’
Myriel’s hands fell limp. ‘Tried to kill you?’
‘I’m fine! Stop dodging my questions! How did you know I’m a Siren?’
‘I don’t, girl. That old book is hogwash! I should have thrown it away, prideful fool that I am. Sirens don’t exist.’
Serena couldn’t tell if she was disappointed or not. ‘So none of these legends are real?’
‘Who can say? I certainly haven’t found any real evidence, but…’
‘But what?’
‘No, it’s nothing really…’
‘Myriel, my whole life I’ve been an outcast and a freak. My own mum and dad didn’t want me, the Watch are after me and old Jozef ferried me across the world to keep me safe. I might not be a Siren or whatever, but I reckon people think I am. Just tell me what you know, Gods above.’
‘Sweet girl—you may not like what you hear.’
‘So what else is new?’
‘There’s a… a prophecy. A legend, really.’
Serena rolled her eyes. ‘Of course there is.’
‘Its origins can be found in Idaris, references to it are found in Ryndara, Aludan, Tarevia… The legend says that a Siren will be born, a warrior from an extinct race; a woman who can bend the minds of humans to her will. The legends are full of contradictions and inconsistencies, but they all agree on one thing…’
‘That she has green hair? What a crock of shit. This stuff’s as stupid as Gods and the Orinul.’
‘That’s not all,’ said Myriel. She sounded scared, as if she truly believed what she was saying. ‘One of the texts I found… It said “The Herald of Death will be governed by the hand of man”…’
‘So what, a crazy mind-controlling monster is actually controlled by humans? Yeah right. More metaphors and bullshit.’
‘Yes, on the face of it. But much like how the first airships were inspired by ajax dragons sailing the skies, mankind has a tendency to turn myths into reality. It’s not monsters I’m worried about, Serena, but the ambitions of men who wish to turn their beliefs into weapons. If this man Gallows is correct and there are drugs that allow us to control other people, then our species is in dire straits indeed. Science and sorcery are colliding, and we will all be caught in the crossfire.’
That sent a chill down Serena’s spine. ‘Is that why the watchman tried to kill me last night? Because he believed I’m a weapon?’
‘Last night? Serena, tell me you simply hid from the people who broke in.’
‘I…’
‘Serena!’
‘What?’
‘You’re hiding something.’
‘I’m not!’
‘Tell me.’
‘I’m not hiding a thing!’
‘Oi!’ called a voice from the floor. ‘Someone get me the hell outta here!’
Myriel stood still as stone, staring at Serena.
‘Ah. That’ll be the watchman I’ve been holding hostage.’
Seeing him squirm in the chair made Serena feel better.
They’d made him send his sword and truncheon up through the hatch, and his lantern too, before letting him climb up. Myriel then tied him to a chair, gagging him when his whining became unbearable.
Serena stood with his sword pointed at his throat.
‘Do we ungag him yet?’ she asked.
‘Gods above, what have we got ourselves into?’ Myriel marched around the watchman—Corporal Edlond, apparently—fidgeting with her hands. ‘I need to think.’
‘Don’t reckon we’ve got time. But we can get answers from him.’
Edlond chewed the rag in his mouth.
Serena pressed the sword’s point to his throat, which silenced him.
‘Serena!’
‘What? I wasn’t going to hurt him.’
‘Oh, fine.’ Myriel pulled the gag and stalked off to the window, glancing outside.
Edlond spat. ‘About time, you bloody lunatics!’
‘Oi,’ called Serena. She didn’t need to say anything more.
Edlond closed his eyes. ‘If you’re gonna kill me, then kill me.’
‘No-one’s going to kill you,’ soothed Myriel.
‘I’m undecided,’ Serena said with a shrug.
‘You little psycho bitch!’ Edlond’s voice screeched. He sounded more scared than angry.
‘Finished?’ she asked. ‘Because I have questions and you’ll answer ’em—how many fingers you leave with is still up in the air.’
Edlond’s shoulders hung low and his face sagged like an old dog’s. ‘You’re bloody enjoying this, aren’t you? Yeah, they were right about you.’
‘Who was right? About what?’
‘Wasting your breath. Best just let me go, or-’
‘Why’d you kill Marrin?’
Edlond’s mouth hung open like a hole in an airship envelope.
Myriel stopped pacing.
‘I ain’t killed anyone,’ he croaked.
‘Lie.’ Serena thrust the thin blade into his bicep, teasing blood.
‘Ow! Bitch!’
‘Serena!’ Myriel marched over.
‘You killed Marrin,’ said Serena, a tremor creeping into her voice. ‘You were there when she died, and you tried to kill me last night. Why?’
‘I didn’t-’
The second jab elicited more blood than the first. Serena forced herself to smile, but her stomach squirmed. ‘Next one’s your eye,’ she said, hoping she sounded convincing.
‘Serena, please-’
‘It’s fine, Myriel—he can’t be that stupid. Right, Corporal?’
He gnashed his teeth and tried to yank free from his bonds. ‘Gods damn it… I don’t know what you’re talking about, you Idari whore!’
She froze, before the sword faltered in her hand. ‘I’m not Idari.’
‘Who knows what you are? But I know what you ain’t, girl.’ Edlond’s mouth curved like the blade of a shovel. It reminded Serena of Roarke’s smile. ‘You ain’t a killer.’
Serena shifted on her feet, the sword falling to her side. ‘That’s more than I can say for you. When did you realise you murdered the wrong girl?’
The coward couldn’t even meet her eye. ‘I’ve got nothing to say to you.’
‘Yeah, I saw your face in the dorm. Just like last night when you pulled your sword. You were terrified. Still are, I reckon.’
Edlond’s forehead glistened. ‘Yeah, well, I’m loyal. I do what needs to be done. Don’t mean I have to enjoy it.’
Serena’s palms slicked with sweat. She reasserted her grip around the blade’s hilt. ‘Does “what needs to be done” always include murdering little girls when they sleep?’
‘I’m not justifying myself to an Idari whore.’
‘Stop saying that!’
She raised the sword, and Edlond’s mouth tightened.
‘Serena,’ Myriel whispered. She beckoned her over to the window.
‘I know, I know, we need to get out of here, but he’s the only one that can explain what’
s going on.’
‘He looks like he’s been chucked into the deep end with a balaclava and a walking stick,’ said Myriel.
‘What?’
‘Nothing, it’s an expression. So—what happened to running away?’
Serena couldn’t help but smile. ‘You happened.’
‘Oh, girl, when I said running away isn’t the answer, I didn’t mean you should go around torturing watchmen!’
‘No-one’s torturing anyone. It’s just… Look, all I ever wanted to do was escape. From the orphanage, from hauling rainwater, from the city. But every time I run, I get stuck. I want to find out what’s going on. I need answers. For myself, and… And for Marrin.’
Myriel’s lips moved like she was chewing one of Clara’s untested concoctions. Then her eyes softened. ‘I’m proud of you, Serena.’
Serena’s face burned scarlet. ‘Um, right, yeah. Thanks.’
‘You’re sure it was him?’
Serena craned her neck to look at Edlond. Picturing him in her room, towering over Marrin, cutting her throat…
‘Yeah.’ She swallowed. ‘I’m sure.’
‘I can see that you’re angry and want justice for your friend,’ Myriel began. ‘But you can’t keep prodding him with a sword.’
‘Just using his own tactics against him.’ Then Serena added, louder, ‘Doesn’t deserve any better.’
Edlond whimpered.
‘I know, girl, I know. But there are other ways of getting information.’ She pressed the copy of Schiehallion’s Breath into Serena’s hands.
She stared at the book, frightened yet electrified at what she’d discovered in its pages. ‘You said Sirens aren’t real.’
‘Yes,’ Myriel started, a devious smile playing on her lips. ‘But he doesn’t need to know that.’
‘Right, Edlond,’ Serena slammed the book on the table, causing the corporal to flinch. ‘Do you know what a Siren is?’
‘Eh?’
‘“Mind-controlling entities”,’ she recited. ‘“Said to be enticing creatures that live beneath the surface of water. Rumoured to lure men with their beauty and sweet yet sorrowful singing.” You might not know why you were sent to kill me, but I do. This. I’m a Siren. I can control people, get inside their heads. I can make you do whatever I-’
‘Fine, you creepy little bitch! Fine, I’ll talk.’
Serena exchanged a glance with Myriel. Well, that was easy. Just as she was getting into it.
‘He said you were a weapon,’ Edlond panted. ‘Said you were an Idari infiltrator and that you might not even know it. That’s all the info I have, I swear! You,’ Edlond looked up to Myriel, ‘you need to turn her in. You can’t trust her!’
Serena stiffened, Edlond’s words floating over her.
‘And to whom should I turn her in? Our trusted Watch?’ Myriel turned and went to the window again, peeking behind the curtain.
‘I was only following orders!’ Edlond whined.
‘Whose orders?’ Myriel called.
‘Councillor Enfield,’ whispered Serena. ‘He’s your boss. He gave you the order.’
Edlond nodded. ‘He’s been having you followed.’
‘Followed? By who?’
‘Belios knows. Not anyone from the Watch, that’s all I know. Some street rat no doubt.’
The revelation draped over her like a cloak of ice.
Her eyes burned. How long had she been spied on?
And then another thought, one which made Serena want to throw up. ‘Did… Did Enfield try to destroy the Liberty Wind too? Did he kill my crew to get to me?’
‘I don’t know about any of that.’
The sword flew up and hovered an inch away from his eye.
‘I’m telling you the truth!’
‘What else? What else does Enfield want? Talk!’
‘Aerulus knows! He-he said you were an Idari weapon and that you should have been killed on Amberfire Night. He said… He said…’
‘Said what?’
‘That you had to die.’
Enfield. He sat in that room, told me and Angelo that we had to stay put… Bastard.
‘Can I go now?’ Edlond pleaded. ‘I’ve told you everything.’
‘Amberfire Night. Why was I supposed to die then?’
‘Beats me.’
She felt the flames, saw the terror in people’s faces, saw airships burning in the sky…
Was it all because of her?
‘Look, I just do what I’m told, okay?’ pleaded Edlond. ‘I told you everything. Let me go. Please.’
The sword quivered in her hand. ‘You can go back in the basement.’
‘Come on! I-’
‘Serena!’ called Myriel.
‘We’ll give you food and water, Corporal. The Confessors and the Watch will send people looking for you. It’s better’n you deserve, murderer. While you’re down there, you can have a think about Marrin, yeah?’
‘No! Please, I-’
‘Serena, girl!’
‘What is it?’ she snapped.
‘Outside…’
Serena drew herself up by Myriel’s side.
A man in dirty grey-blue robes marched down Small Laurel Lane ringing a bell. Something was up with his eyes—were they stitched closed?
It didn’t matter—what mattered was what he was saying:
‘He’s alive! He’s alive! Aerulus be praised, the Prime Councillor is alive!’
‘Papers.’
Gallows stepped forward, the sun bearing down on his eyes. The soldier took Gallows’ papers, eyeing him with no small amount of suspicion before stamping it.
Empty cans and bottles flew overhead. The Watch dragged screaming civilians across the ground.
‘Why do they do it when they know we’ll fling ’em into jail?’ said one of the soldiers. They were indistinguishable in their dark blue fatigues and black helmets.
‘Because in jail, you’re guaranteed food and water,’ Gallows answered.
With some reluctance, they let him through the checkpoint. It’d take ages just to get to his office, let alone reach the Courtesans’ Guild. Is it better or worse if Veronica already knows?
Wind forced rubbish to waltz in the street, accompanied by the faint smell of blood. Sharp points of shattered glass in window frames caught sunlight, like threads of a ripped white dress. Funny how the presence of soldiers and coppers made everything less safe.
A couple of hours had passed since Gallows got off the train with Fallon, Rend and Valentine, and he’d hoped to have spent that time sleeping. The major had made them go their separate ways after they’d alighted in a bomb shelter—similar to the lab’s secret entrance—concealed not far from the gate into Petrel’s Tail. They’d had to blow the shelter doors open with Valentine’s last demo charge, and climb out. Thankfully one of the gate’s guards recognised Fallon and let them in, otherwise they’d still be out there, rotting in the desert.
The look Valentine gave Gallows on the train… She’d blame him for leaving Sturrock to die for the rest of her life.
But instead of resting, sleep came in fits. Gallows woke to find his tongue sticking to the plastic lining on his bedroom floor and his sheets lying at the other end of the room, soaked with sweat.
At the fringe of his waking mind, the Grand Perceptor hung like a spectre, replaying in detail the things she’d made him do. The guilt squirming in his stomach was made worse by knowing the truth about Sera.
But he had the strength to swallow it today.
Because he knew it would be over soon.
‘Come in, Tyson,’ called Damien. Gallows hadn’t even knocked on the door.
‘Damien,’ he said.
‘It’s good to see you. Sheva told me that your licence had been suspended. I expected word of you languishing in the Gravehold.’
‘Oh, planning a daring rescue, were you?’
‘Perhaps if I knew where it was.’
Gallows took his usual seat. Damien had drawn the blinds on the bay
window. Light came through in slanting shafts. It made the room colder.
Damien stood behind his desk. He looked tired—Gallows had never seen that before.
‘Busy night?’ Gallows asked.
‘It was… Not without its surprises.’
Gallows didn’t push it. He wanted to sleep, to escape this waking nightmare. You will. Soon. ‘Listen,’ he started. ‘I’m not gonna ask Kirivanti to reinstate me.’
Outside, the Watch argued with an old woman. ‘Your mind is made up?’ Damien asked.
‘Yeah. Listen, I found out some shit last night. About Sera, about Amberfire Night. You’d better sit.’
Damien sauntered over to the window, placing his hands at his back. The blinds cast thin blades of light across his face. ‘You’ve been busy,’ he said.
‘Yeah, blame Fallon. Listen, Tiera Martelo—she was manipulated into killing the Prime Councillor.’
‘So I’ve heard.’
Gallows sat back. ‘You don’t believe me?’
‘I’m not discounting your story, if that’s what you’re asking—merely concerned you’re being lied to.’
‘Yeah.’ Gallows attempted to massage the exhaustion from his eyes. It didn’t work. ‘Makes two of us.’
‘And you suspect Sera was tortured by the Confessor?’
Gallows couldn’t answer right away. Knowing Sera’s last moments had been drawn out, knowing the kind of thing she must have endured…
‘That’s what they do, right?’ His fingers tightened on the edges of the arm rests. ‘I was sitting across from him, Damien. In the Council’s war room.’
For years now, Gallows had swum in a tide of self-loathing. But now he had a target to direct his anger at? It felt good.
‘I’m sorry, Tyson. I’ve no idea what you must be going through.’
‘All of this… Right under our noses. Right in front of us.’
‘Wartime experimentation isn’t unheard of,’ Damien pointed out. He’d processed Gallows’ story of Outpost One Three Seven with unnerving ease. ‘But this is something else entirely.’
‘Regina Hessian died because she saw what they were capable of. Whoever killed her probably knows she hired us to help her.’
Damien turned from the window. ‘You believe we’re in danger?’
‘I don’t see how we can’t be.’
Symphony of the Wind Page 34
