Authors: Marianne de Pierres
As Naif watched her, Charlonge gave a little cry and looked up. ‘I found something! Listen:
‘A giant creature fell from the sky and there was a brilliant burst of fire and then all Lapith became dark. The earth spewed its anger and bellowed its rage. Waves beat the shores and winds raged. All of the lowland Mu-ers perished. Some of the Goan heathens hid in the high caves but we, the Los Fien, who God blessed with high position and status, remain. The High Priest prays for forgiveness and the return of the light but while the sky-beast lies in the water beneath us, the sky can only rot. My mentor fears the traders will no longer come with supplies. We pray God will provide.
‘“The sky-beast lies in the water beneath us”,’ Char repeated. ‘What could that mean?’
‘Could it mean the vessel that brought them here? Like an airship that can travel even further than Ruzalia’s. Up in Sky-death?’ Naif pointed upward.
‘But
out there
it is endless night and nothing,’ said Emilia.
Charlonge made a derisive noise. ‘What do you call the Tri-Suns, then? And the stars? They are hardly nothing.’
‘The stars? We’re taught that the sparks in the night sky are pieces flung off by the Tri-Suns to light our nights,’ said Emilia.
Naif stared at her. ‘You were
taught
about Sky-death?’
Emilia frowned and then a look of understanding flashed across her face. ‘You’re a Seal.’
Once more Naif felt a surge of frustration. She knew so little of the world because the Seal Superiors had chosen to keep them in ignorance. ‘These books must be preserved away from Ixion,’ she said urgently. ‘Ruzalia would keep them safe on Sanctus.’
Charlonge smiled for the first time in a long while. ‘You see now why I sought them out. You see why I came?’ Then she frowned, having a second thought. ‘But Sanctus is no safer than Ixion.’
Perhaps Char was right in that. All the young ones on Sanctus were dying. And everyone on Ixion; all the people that Naif cared for. She had to find more answers. Quickly.
She stood and stretched her cramping muscles. ‘I need to walk a little to stave off sleep. I’ll take in some air and return.’
‘Bring back more of the honey cakes,’ said Char, helping herself to the last one on the platter. ‘Stolen Ixion food is far better than Ruzalia’s stew.’ She bent over her book again, straight away lost in her reading.
Emilia nodded at her, and Naif found it in herself to return the gesture as she left.
Moving more quickly than her tired and cramped legs should have been able, she left the cave and climbed down the rock lip. In front of her, the torches lit a buzzing camp. Not a single person sat idle. Eve strode from cluster to cluster of workers, speaking curtly, gesturing in her sharp, emphatic way.
Naif wanted to walk among them but a stronger compulsion resisted. Suddenly she found herself walking quietly to the edge of the dark, out past the camp’s limits. She began to sweat in fear.
What is happening
? She tried to call for help but her lips clamped shut, her throat seized.
Her legs drove her body up the steepest part of the ridge, where it met the rock wall that harboured the caves. She slipped on rock screes, sliding back and then having to scramble forward again. But the compulsion did not give up.
It told her to
get to the top of the ridge. Lie down. Hide.
Her already-sore body ached and cried with fatigue as she scaled the last distance. Fresh grazes stung her palms, and from the wetness trickling down her shins, she knew her knees had started to bleed again.
Her mind fought a furious battle with her body.
Turn back! Turn back!
She tried to look over her shoulder, but the compulsion wouldn’t allow it.
Not until you are at the top, prone and out of sight.
But what am I hiding from
? she challenged it.
No reply.
And so she pushed her body up over the ridge of loose rock and unexpected sand traps until she reached a granite slab bigger than herself.
Only then did her compulsion to climb ease. Abruptly, it became a downward pressure, forcing her to lie down between two rocks.
The steady weight stayed on the middle of her back, crushing the energy from her and casting such a thick, black fog across her mind that she could no longer think or fear or fight . . . only watch.
Below, she saw the camp, the torches, the Leaguers. She could even make out Clash and Eve, crouched together near the pile of spears.
A scream from the far end of the camp sent a chill through her numb body. Near the farthest prayer hutch a commotion had started. At first she couldn’t make sense of it; Leaguers running, some falling, unable to stand again.
Her vision blurred as though tears or sand blinded her. She blinked rapidly and each time her sight cleared, more Leaguers fell.
Clash! Suki! Charlonge! Markes, Jarrold and Liam!
Her eyes flicked in frantic search of her friends.
Clash and Eve had their weapons drawn but they stood still as though immobilised by shock. Naif blinked again, realising that the blurring was movement; creatures travelling so quickly that her eyes couldn’t focus upon them.
Ripers. A dozen or more, devastating the camp, taking Leaguers down, killing some – those who fought.
Naif saw Clash and Eve fall to their knees. Lassoes fell across their shoulders. Clash rolled away but was dragged back.
Naif opened her mouth to scream warnings to those still in the caves below her but the compulsion had stolen her voice. She fought against it like she had nothing in her life before. With more anger and fear than she’d held for the wardens.
But the sound that escaped her throat was a soft gargle that carried no further than her breath. She tried again and again, all the while watching the Leaguers being tied and dragged and taken away into the dark. As the blur of Ripers reached the caves she strained so hard to speak her heart thumped against her ribs and her ears felt as though they would burst.
Finally, something broke free within her and her voice loosed.
‘Char–’
But her scream fell victim to a strong, unrelenting hand that clamped over her mouth.
‘Hush. For your own life’s sake. You cannot help them, Naif.’
Lenoir!
With Lenoir’s hand stifling her scream, Naif could only watch as the Ripers took them all. Last were Emilia and Charlonge, their clothes torn, their skin bare and white against the torchlight.
When they were gone, Lenoir finally let go.
Naif lay still, dazed.
‘You
made
me climb here,’ she said finally, in a voice that sounded strange to her.
‘When I learned that Brand intended this, I knew I couldn’t reach you in time,’ he said softly. ‘It was the only way I could save you.’
She could not bring herself to look at him. Or to be grateful. But she had no energy for anger. Only for questions. ‘Those Ripers were all with Brand?’
‘She has more than half of us with her now.’
‘But the League has been in this camp for ages. Why do this now?’
‘Until now, they had not planned a war against us. Eve is foolish to think it would go ignored for long.’
‘She believed you were too busy fighting each other.’ Naif thought for a moment. ‘Brand didn’t kill them all. Only the ones who resisted. Why?’
Lenoir hesitated and then gently put his hands to her shoulders, helping her into a sitting position. He placed a hand under her chin and tilted it upward.
Finally, she looked at him. In the light cast by the empty camp’s torches, his face looked sadder and more beautiful than she remembered it being. Her breath caught in her throat. Beauty masking brutality. Yet his touch was so gentle.
‘I’m sorry, Naif, but your kind are more useful to them alive for now.’
Naif’s heart contracted painfully. ‘She’s taking them to Danskoi?’
Lenoir didn’t answer but nor did he look away. He met her gaze solemnly. ‘I could not let them take you. While I live, you live.’
Naif climbed shakily to her feet. The compulsion had lifted now. ‘Then you must help me free them at once.’
‘They are safe for a time,’ said Lenoir. ‘Our . . . synthesis takes time and there are others before them. They’ll be kept asleep until the time is right.’
‘How long?’
‘Two Early-Eves, at least.’
Early-Eve occurred once in a Grave day, which made it a similar measure to dawn.
Naif stared into his eyes, looking for the truth. Was it a beast that lay behind there? Why could she only see concern? Unable to stop herself, she reached out and touched his cheek. The skin felt slightly rough. Not the marble smooth that she had known before.
He closed his eyes and turned his head so that his lips grazed her fingers. Her flesh lost some of its numbness.
‘Your skin . . . are you sick?’ she whispered.
‘Hungry, Naif,’ he said. ‘For so many things. Come with me to a safe place. You may bathe and change and eat. We can talk,’ he said.
‘Safe?’
‘We move our nest regularly. Brand cannot find us.’
‘Yet you easily locate her?’
‘She is arrogant and careless. She doesn’t believe she needs to evade me.’
Naif watched him. ‘You are planning something?’
He held out his hand. ‘Come, baby bat.’
His voice fell hot and heavy on her mind. She tried to resist it, to think her way to another course of action, but fatigue and shock contrived against her. She should be going straight to Danskoi. She should go . . .
But instead, she took Lenoir’s hand.
He immediately enfolded her in his embrace and she gave a moan of relief. His arms were a cool haven against the heat of his voice. If she tilted her head against his chest she could so easily sleep . . .
‘How could you bring her here?’
Naif started awake at the sound of the shrill voice and found herself curled in an unnatural position. As she tried to move her arms and legs, a rank moistness assailed her nostrils. She was inside something that rocked like a hammock every time she shifted. Freeing one of her hands from behind her back, she began to feel the surface gently. Sticky, with ridges that bulged like veins.
‘We are bonded. I will not abandon her.’
Lenoir.
‘You put her in your sac. You’ve never done that before. Even though you are bonded, she is not one of us.’
‘Her body needed nourishment and rest.’
‘And so does yours. You give up your food for her!’
‘That is my choice, Test, and not something you should question.’
‘But –’
‘Silence!’
Lenoir’s command sent a bolt of fear right through Naif. She searched quickly for a way out of her cocoon and found a bulge in the smooth texture. A seam, perhaps?
Experimenting, she tried to prise it apart with two fingers. Once a small gap opened, the rest followed quickly, as though she’d pulled apart a piece of soft fruit.