The Key to Starveldt (7 page)

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Authors: Foz Meadows

BOOK: The Key to Starveldt
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‘The key to Starveldt,’ she repeated, unfurling a hand. ‘I would feel its weight.’

Slowly, Solace drew the key from her pocket, dropping it into Liluye’s open palm. The proprietor held it reverentially, eyes closed. Almost, she grazed the metal against her lips, but seemed to think better of the action. A sad look crossed her face; she lowered her hand and passed the key back.

‘It belongs with you,’ she said, somehow making the words sound like a benediction. ‘Forgive me. I had to be sure. And these are your companions?’

Still too astonished to answer, Solace nodded. Liluye inclined her head at everyone in turn. ‘Welcome, then. And where is the ninth among you?’

‘Ninth?’ asked Jess, puzzled. Solace was about to echo the sentiment when, for the first time since leaving the Kombi, she remembered. ‘Duchess.’

‘Dammit!’ Manx growled under his breath. ‘How does she keep
doing
that? We were
watching
her!’ At this, Paige nodded emphatically. ‘One minute she’s there, and the next, she’s –’

‘There!’ exclaimed Electra.

Padding daintily towards them up the temple stairs, as though she’d gained entry to the Rookery via some other gateway, was Duchess, an unmistakeable smirk on her feline features.

‘Cats,’ Evan muttered darkly, not for the first time.


echoed Duchess. Unable to help herself, Solace giggled, while Manx made an irritated growling sound.

‘Greetings,’ Liluye said, with genuine respect. In a display so uncharacteristic that Solace found herself blinking, Duchess inclined her head and bowed, stretching out one white forepaw while simultaneously retracting the other.


she purred. Her speech was flavoured with an undercurrent of pleased amusement that Solace had never heard her use. Could Liluye hear Duchess, too? She swapped a blank look with Manx, who was just as puzzled.

‘Will you come with us?’ asked Liluye.

Lazily, Duchess flicked the tip of her tail and blinked her algae-coloured eyes.


she said, after a brief pause.

Before either Manx or Solace could translate – Paige in particular had been casting enquiring glances their way since the little cat’s arrival – Duchess yawned and leapt up onto Anise’s shoulder.

‘Take good care of our guest,’ said Liluye, at Anise’s raised eyebrow.

‘Yes, my lady.’

With a short bow to everyone present, Anise smiled and departed, weaving her way through the Rookery with practised ease. Within moments, the crowd had swallowed her up, leaving the bemused group in the guardianship of the establishment’s proprietor.

‘Your companion will be well tended,’ Liluye promised, turning back to the group. ‘You need have no concerns on that score.’

‘She likes swans,’ said Electra, with offhand helpfulness. No sooner had she spoken than she clapped a hand to her mouth, staring at her friends with mortification. ‘I did
not
just say that. I didn’t!’

‘Of course not,’ said Liluye, though her lips twitched. ‘Now. Some privacy, I think, would do us good. My chambers are not far. Unless –’

The world lurched violently sideways.

At least, it did for Solace, who staggered under the strength of the sensation. Mystified, she looked to her friends for any sign that they, too, had been jolted, but was met only with curious expressions. Liluye had broken off mid-sentence, creasing her forehead in perturbation as she held out a steadying hand.

‘What ails?’

‘I don’t know.’ A wave of dizziness swamped Solace. ‘I –’

<– got her yet, Mikhail?>


She screamed, but her mouth wasn’t open. Hooks – there were
hooks
in her skin – she was caught in a barbed net and going blind as a rush of darkness blizzarded her eyes, nose, mouth, ears; she was mute, dumb, wrapped in velvet that stank of grave cloth.
Grave
, that was it, she was under the earth entombed in stone, her teeth were screaming in their roots, her hair burned like starfire and the blood, the terrible red wailing of a heart in panic socked through her chest like the hammer of black dawn, and then she was falling falling falling –

Caught.

‘Hello, sister-Solace.’

The world returned, or some semblance of it. Her senses boiled.

‘Grief.’ It was neither name nor statement. Her body ached. She collapsed to her knees, shivering with the violence of extreme cold, although she lacked all awareness of temperature. Around her was void, a nothingness so unbearable that it was like a gnawing, static roar. She moaned, and her eyelids flickered. Closed. Opened. And there was Grief, her brother-foe, grinning in the glory of his madness and the howling dark; he stood over her and laughed. Mikhail was there, too, clasping a vial of blood, but then she realised his hands were fused to the glass, saw the anguished grit of his teeth as he cocked his head and sloshed the boiling contents. Her stomach roiled as her sense of smell returned: that was
her
blood, unmistakeable, drained from her flesh in Lukin’s damned dungeon.

‘That’s how you’ve … brought me … here.’ She gasped out the words. Iron bands were squeezing her chest, crushing her with every savage inhalation. ‘How can you … bear it … bear this … place?’

‘Dear, dear. Betwixt and between.’ Grief steepled his elegant fingers. ‘Mikhail, I am
so
disappointed. You swore she’d come all the way through. But something is holding her back.’

‘The blood-magic is old, my lord.’ Mikhail was sweating. Unable to use his hands, he managed a desperate shrug by tilting the glass vial. ‘Few things are stronger, more potent, less fallible. She should be here.’

‘Part of her is. And part of her is not. Can you guess, Mikhail, my response to this?’

Crouching down, Grief reached out and cupped Solace’s chin, stroking her face with awful tenderness. She recoiled from the touch, but her strength had crumpled beneath a hundredweight of agony. Nothing worked.

‘So beautiful.’ He smiled, and for a moment his face was almost handsome. Then it twisted; his fingers dug cruelly into her hair as he kissed her hard on the mouth. Her body went rigid with fear and outrage. She struggled wildly, but Grief only bit down before flinging her backwards like a toy doll, slamming her into the floor, if it was a floor. Certainly, it hurt like one. Gagging, choking, Solace couldn’t even spit. Her throat was closing over, sealing up like an old wound. Her brother laughed and wiped his mouth on the back of his pale hand, her blood on both their lips.

‘She’ll die here, Mikhail,’ he remarked, almost absently. ‘I hadn’t wished that. Still, I could tolerate it.’

‘My lord?’

On the floor-that-wasn’t, Solace felt her lungs seize, airless and dead.
I’ll die here
. The blood in her veins was freezing. Her vision swam.

Grief gave an irritable wave and snorted. ‘What’s a little patience, after all? Send her back, Mikhail. I prefer my meat whole. And Rare.’ He looked straight at Solace. His eyes shone with the fury of black fire. ‘I’ll be watching, little sister. Watching and waiting. Until we meet again.’

Anguished, Mikhail Savarin roared.

The vial of blood exploded.

4
Harm’s Way

‘G
rief !

Solace shrieked the word, sobbing for breath. A babble of voices broke around her. Several people were yelling, but her senses, normally so acute, were handicapped, wrecked. Her vision was a blur, and her ears rang. Who was present? Everyone was crowding her, but she couldn’t stand. Tears formed in her eyes, her nose was streaming – bleeding? Had she cracked it? Shakily, she tried to raise herself up, but collapsed back almost instantly, weak as a new foal. And then there was someone pulling her close, drawing her into a more bearable sitting position, their warm weight and human scent anchoring her to the world. It was only then that Solace realised she was back, and safe. For the moment. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to concentrate, struggling to reorient her senses.

He’s gone. They’re both gone.

She opened her eyes. Turned her head.

She was in an unfamiliar room. Liluye towered protectively over her, keeping a frantic Evan at bay with the force of her words alone. Both were shouting.

‘They just reached in and hurt her – punched her down, like she was nothing! I mean, what the
hell
?’


Dhaku masteta
, boy, do you think this is not unprecedented? Do not presume my negligence in this matter! The Rookery is bound by threads of an ancient weave –’

‘Negligence?
Negligence
? She’s bleeding from her bloody
eyes
!’

‘You
dare
!’

‘Eyes?’ Solace croaked. Incensed as they were, neither Evan nor Liluye heard, but her rescuer did: Laine, in whose lap she was currently cradled.

‘It’s like you’ve been in a blast,’ the psychic whispered, helping Solace sit a little straighter. ‘No – don’t touch it. I think it’s stopped. The bleeding, that is. But it hasn’t dried. You’ll get it everywhere.’

Panic filled her. ‘Where?’

Back-to-chest, she felt Laine gulp. ‘Your eyes, like Evan said. Your nose. Your ears. Your lip. Solace, what happened?’

The combatants broke off their argument, staring instead. There was a rush of background movement as the others tried to surge forward, but a glance and gesture from Liluye held them fast. In an eerie echo of Grief, the proprietor crouched and took Solace’s chin gently in hand, peering into her apparently bloodied eyes with an unreadable expression.

‘Grief,’ said Solace. ‘And Mikhail. They used my blood. The sample they took … at the dungeon. Summoned me with it. Don’t know … how.’ It was painful to talk. Her chest still ached as though someone had used it as a set of bagpipes, and her throat felt raw. ‘Place was … black. A void. Always a damn void. Why, huh?’ She tried to smile, bring some humour into the cursed situation, but her muscles wouldn’t obey. Without meaning to, she looked at her hands. They were trembling.

‘Blood calls to blood,’ Liluye murmured, apparently to herself. ‘Potent, yes, but even so, it should not have been enough.’ Her gold eyes snapped up. ‘You were physically there? He could touch you, harm you?’

Kissed me
, Solace wanted to say, but the revulsion ran too deep. Instead, she could only nod, wincing as the muscles in her neck twanged.

Paige’s eyes widened. ‘But she stayed here!’

‘What?’ Solace stared up at her friends. ‘But I went –’

‘You didn’t,’ said Harper. His face was ashen. ‘You fell. Twitched. I carried you here. With Liluye. Back through the temple.’

Frowning, the dreadlocked woman leaned in again. ‘Solace? Did he say anything? About where you were, or why?’

With great effort, she shook her head. ‘No. Just something at the end. A joke. That I’d die if I stayed. That he liked his meat Rare.’

‘Hil-
arious
,’ Manx muttered, but Liluye rocked straight back on her heels, staring intently at Solace. When she spoke, her voice was soft, incredulous.

‘Separate flesh. He broke you in two, took half to the shadow place. And yet you live!
Ai, na
!’

She leapt up, clapped a hand to her head, spun in a half circle and laughed. It was so disconcerting a combination of behaviours that Solace would have edged backwards, had the option been available. Instead, she blinked.

‘What?’

‘Oh,’ said Laine, and then, sharply, ‘
oh
!’

Without needing to turn, Solace
knew
the psychic had locked eyes with Liluye: that somehow, in that instant, her Trick had woven them together in shared comprehension. Whether she knew this by virtue of her contact with Laine or some higher sense became academic as she felt her consciousness blend with theirs, a stray thread briefly braided into a wider pattern before dropping out again. And then she knew, too, exactly what Grief had accomplished, and why.

‘Oh,’ she said, weakly. ‘Well. Oh.’

‘And the subtitled version, for those of us who don’t speak Crazy Lady?’ Evan demanded, looking very much as if he’d like to knock someone out.

Panting, Solace forced out the words. ‘Part of me is Rare. He peeled it away. That’s what you saw. Here. What was left. If I were human – what of me
is
human – went to him. With my blood. And the place … I couldn’t survive there, as half – I needed everything, I felt my lungs crushed – dying –’

Her heart sped up with remembered fear. Solace forced it away, gulped, gasped. ‘But he sent me back. He wants all of me. Rarity and flesh. Oh, God.’

She closed her eyes, grateful for Laine’s silent, warm comfort.

‘Will they try again?’ Paige asked, panic rising in her voice. ‘They have our blood, too! Or, I mean, what’s to stop them from just walking right in through the car park, like we did?’

‘The Old Law protects the Rookery,’ Liluye answered. Her voice was soft, but the others listened, quieting almost instantly. ‘Bloodkin may not enter; neither may certain other undesirables. Should anyone enter by means of a seeking spell, I would be instantly alerted, just as nobody may be removed from here against their will.’ She glanced at Solace, visibly torn by the proven inadequacy of this last comment, then shook her head and continued. ‘Or at least, not wholly removed. Had you been almost anywhere other than the Rookery, your brother would have succeeded.’ She held up a hand at Paige’s open mouth, forestalling her unasked question. ‘Your friend has been harmed, but words still need to be exchanged. Eleuthera, are you well enough?’

Forcing her eyes back open, Solace nodded. ‘Yes. I can talk.’

‘Good.’ Liluye gestured towards a nearby lounge. ‘Then perhaps we should all sit?’

For the first time, Solace became properly aware of her surroundings. They were in a snug, square room, filled with plush carpets, cushions and an antique lounge suite. With Laine’s help, she limped to the nearest armchair and sat down with as much dignity as she could muster. Her legs felt rubbery as kelp, her body raw. Without thinking, she ran a hand across her face. Her fingers came away red. Shuddering, she wiped them on her skirt.

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