The Key to Starveldt (29 page)

Laine looked a little put out, as though she’d been deprived of dramatic emphasis. Solace wondered whether she should offer to go with her friend, maybe try to find some kind of opportunity to tell her that she knew … what? The truth about Paige and Harper was so awful, she didn’t trust herself to put it into words, and yet she needed to try, to purge what felt like borrowed poison from her system. Every time she thought of it, her fists clenched and teeth grit. She felt angry and helpless, as though knowing what had happened should have granted her the power to set it right. Nothing she said or did could ever erase the truth of it, but if Evan could find the strength to endure the knowledge, then so could she. And that, too, was another source of guilt. They hadn’t done anything, but even with Laine’s claims at breakfast, Solace still felt uneasy in herself.

Laine caught her eye. A puzzled glance crossed the psychic’s face, as though she’d caught the tail end of Solace’s thoughts. Though such a silent means of communication would have been easier, Solace found herself drawing her secrets inwards, keeping them safe. Somehow, it would be dishonourable to take the simple way out, to let Laine know while simultaneously denying her the right of reply. Instead, she managed a half smile, which Laine returned, and the moment passed.

‘And what about you two?’ Sylvia asked.

The guard’s voice cut through Solace’s introspection. ‘Huh?’

‘Markets,’ said Jess, eyes sparkling. ‘Are you coming, or what?’

‘No,’ said Solace, much to her own surprise. ‘Actually, I think I’m going to loiter, too.’

‘Hey, don’t look at me,’ said Evan to Jess. ‘I already told you: I’m staying put.’

‘Well, then,’ said Sylvia, after a moment’s awkward hesitation. ‘We will find you later?’

Paige and Harper watched them go before turning to the others.

‘Any idea where you guys are headed?’ Paige asked.

‘None,’ said Laine, with a sideways glance at Evan and Solace.

‘Oh, well. Maybe we’ll bump into you,’ Paige said, waving as Harper started to lead her off. ‘Later!’

‘And then there were three,’ Evan muttered, clearly not in the best of moods. Tension descended like a falling hatchet.

‘I’ll go,’ said Laine, her voice soft. She cast a final, fathomless glance at Evan before drifting away in the opposite direction to everyone else, fading into the crowds as swiftly as she’d done that first day in the Rookery.

‘I guess that just leaves us,’ said Solace. A strange tingle ran up her arms. Why hadn’t she gone with the others? As much as she’d been wrapped up in her own thoughts, she didn’t feel the need for privacy. She just felt happy to stay with Evan. Maybe it was because of the bond, but Solace didn’t think so – not really, anyway. Coming to the Rookery seemed to have brought out a new side to him, a thoughtfulness that his penchant for pranks and spectacle had previously obscured. Or maybe it was just that she’d come to know him better.

‘So?’ he asked her. ‘What now?’

‘I don’t know.’ Solace glanced around. ‘There’s so much here, it’s hard to know where to start.’

‘I know where Jess will start,’ Evan muttered. ‘Ten bucks says she’s trying to buy me some stupid birthday present with Electra.’ He made a face, then sighed, signalling a begrudging return to cheerfulness. Crooking an arm, he tilted his chin towards the crowds. ‘Come on, then, my lady Lacey Might as well venture forth.’

Trying not to laugh, Solace slipped her arm through his. The thick leather of her jacket was a barrier between them, but as they strolled away across the grass, with the wide, impossible heavens gleaming overhead, the place where their elbows joined felt warm as bare skin under the sun.

‘You’re sure that’s what you heard? Solace’s guardian is of the Aer?’

‘Yes, my lady.’

Glide bowed his head to the sound of Sanguisidera’s laughter, unable to meet her gaze. Mikhail Savarin’s fingers dug sharply into his collarbone, an inescapable shackle. Some distant, stupid part of him had hoped that he’d be excused an interview with the Bloody Star. But as soon as the word ‘Aer’ had left his mouth, the Bloodkin mage had cried out in triumph, dragging him through the rough, sunless hallways of Sanguisidera’s world to give his report in person. Once free of the tunnels, he’d been led through a massive cavern, so large and crowded with Bloodkin that he had difficulty taking it in.

The Bloody Star held council at the summit of a stone promontory, clothed in virginal white velvet on her throne of ebony and garnets. To his absolute horror, Grief was there, too, along with Erasmus Lukin. Before this nightmare council, he was forced to relive his betrayal of Solace Eleuthera and her guardian, the worldweaver Vivari, who currently inhabited the flesh of a small, blue-white cat known as Duchess. He did not know what an Aer was, but to the Bloodkin scientists and their insane mistress, it was a source of malicious glee.

‘Boy,’ said Sanguisidera sharply.

Glide looked up, knowing she meant him, and hated himself for it.

‘You have brought us great intelligence. Do not think that madness precludes gratitude. Many gifts are within my power to bestow. But I am dissatisfied with the explanation of your continuing good health. My Sharpsoft claimed to have killed you. Did he lie? Have I been forsaken?’

Glide felt his whole body seize up. The Bloody Star pinned him with her black gaze. Dissembling was impossible. He fought to keep his mouth shut, but some external compulsion forced it open. ‘Yes,’ he rasped, the syllables scraping along the surface of his tongue. ‘He let me live. He’s been helping Solace.’

Sanguisidera hissed. A look of pure venom twisted her face. She struck him hard and fast, the nails of her left hand opening three long, thin scratches on his cheek. One ear rang from the blow. His vision swam. The Bloody Star sat back, shook her red-copper ringlets and smiled, once more outwardly calm.

‘Your sister steals from me, Grief,’ she said. ‘First her life, then the prophecy, and now my helper. Be sure to deprive her in kind.’

From where he stood behind her throne, Grief leaned down and kissed Sanguisidera on the cheek: a dutiful son. ‘Of course, mother. As soon as they try to open Starveldt –’

‘Try?’ Sanguisidera cut him off, a sharp note entering her voice. ‘They will not only try, my Grief. They will succeed. I have erred once already as regards the castle, and will not do so again. Whatever power binds it away from this world has refused to yield to me and mine. I feel certain it will behave otherwise for Solace and her friends. Let her gain entry for us.’

‘As you wish.’

‘Of course,’ said Sanguisidera, ‘the castle will remain closed so long as your errant sister remains in the Rookery, safe in the claws of that
hawk
. My patience with her sojourn is diminishing. She needs to be drawn out.’

Grief raised an eyebrow. ‘You wish me to provoke her?’

‘I do.’

‘Hm.’ Absently, he lightly raked his hair with the tips of his fingers. The gesture made Glide shudder: Solace shared the exact same mannerism. ‘She has no other family. Her friends are all equally protected. Even Sharpsoft is with her.’ Then his eyes lit up. It was like watching neon spark in a black-painted bulb. ‘Still. There is one motivator left. I can be persuasive.’

‘My dear, handsome boy.’ Sanguisidera smiled at him. ‘You are nothing if not silver-tongued. Let us have done with this nonsense of hide-and-go-seek.’

Mikhail’s iron grip tightened on Glide’s shoulder. ‘What would you have us do with the traitor Sharpsoft, my lady?’ he asked.

The Bloody Star frowned. ‘Erasmus, do we possess a quantity of my former favourite’s blood?’

Professor Lukin shook his head. ‘Alas, we do not.’

Sanguisidera’s eyes narrowed. ‘A pity. We shall simply have to await his return, like hopeful wives with their eyes on a distant plain of battle.’

‘My lady, if it is any consolation, we do have the blood of Solace Eleuthera’s companions.’

A red diamond smile glittered on the Bloody Star’s lips.

‘The Starkine,’ she said. ‘Once Grief has drawn his sister out, you will summon the Starkine to me. Perhaps Sharpsoft shall be moved to try and effect a rescue.’

Lukin bowed. ‘It shall be done.’

‘Wait.’ Sanguisidera held up a hand. ‘There is still the matter of the Aer. The guardian must be dealt with. Have you a plan?’

The professor beamed. ‘I believe I have a solution, yes. A captured renegade. I have been putting him to other uses, but his mind is not yet so far damaged as to be worthless. Once, he was close to Starveldt. He will know.’

‘Go, then.’ The Bloody Star waved a dismissal at Grief and Lukin both. Her pseudo-son nodded, bowed and left, as did Lukin. Their footsteps echoed softly on the carpeted stone. Mikhail, silent, remained where he was.

‘And as for you,’ said Sanguisidera, turning back to Glide with a bright, wide smile, ‘you will continue to employ your gifts in our service. If you are very good, I may even make you immortal. What say you to that?’

I could defy her, and die.
But he’d come too far, abandoned too much pride. Glide gulped against his fear. ‘I would be honoured, my lady.’

‘Of course you would.’ Slipping forward from her throne, Sanguisidera knelt before him, so that their faces were level. Up close, she was almost beautiful. His throat closed over with despair. Reaching out, she drew his chin towards her, tilting it to one side. He braced for a bite that never came. Instead, catlike, she licked the bloody scratches she’d given him. Three strokes, four, and then she chastely kissed the wound. When she leaned back, there were new roses in her cheeks.

‘Silly boy.’ Her voice was almost affectionate. ‘You’re mine, now.’

Solace didn’t know how long they’d been walking, but she’d enjoyed every minute of it. Her ramble with Evan had taken them on a long, circuitous tour of the Rookery: through the edge of the markets, out towards some of the more eccentric fringe structures, across the plains that stretched beneath quetzal airspace, and now back again towards the temple complex. Hours must have passed, if the stretchy, satisfying tension of her well-used leg muscles was anything to go by, but it hardly felt like any time at all.

Considering how populated the warehouse had always been and the preference of the whole group to do things as, well, a group, Solace had never spent much time in the company of just one other friend. Having this time with Evan felt pleasantly cathartic: after all, back at the Gadfly he’d been the first one to speak to her, and with their newfound connection filling the gaps in their conversation, there’d been no awkward silences. Although, if she were honest, there’d still been plenty of awkward half-truths. Once or twice, Solace had asked more about his family life, and felt the empath pull away; she did likewise when he asked about how she’d grown up. It hadn’t soured the mood, but there was a thread of curiosity between them now, questions to be asked more seriously at a later date, when there was space and privacy and perhaps trust enough to warrant the full truth.

In the meantime, sitting down somewhere was starting to seem like a pretty good idea. Solace opened her mouth to speak, but Evan beat her to it.

‘Fancy a drink?’ he asked.

Solace considered the prospect. ‘Absolutely not.’

Evan snorted. ‘Me, neither. Which is saying something. It’s the lack of a sun and moon, I think. I mean, it’s really cool at first, but now I’m all discombobulated.’

‘I know what you mean,’ said Solace. ‘Ever since we’ve been here, I’ve had that feeling I get when I’ve started a good book in bed, but then I look up and the clock’s broken or out of batteries, and I don’t remember what time it was when I sat down. Everything’s dark, and for all I know I’ve been reading for ten minutes or three hours. If it was only ten minutes, then I can keep reading, but if it’s been three hours, then maybe I should sleep. But I can’t actually tell, so I keep reading anyway, only I feel increasingly guilty about it.’ She paused, blinking. ‘Did that make any sense whatsoever? Because I’m pretty sure it didn’t.’

Evan laughed. ‘It made sense. Although I’ve never been one for reading in bed. That’s Jess’s riff, not mine.’ He stretched his arms. ‘Speaking of which, I don’t know how you and your mighty vampire legs are holding up, but I could very happily collapse into something soft and chair-like. Mind if we head back to the rooms?’