The Key to Starveldt (9 page)

It was too huge a concept to comprehend, as though she were standing at the base of Mount Everest, unable to appreciate the mountain’s full size. The rest of the room seemed to fade away, until only she and Liluye remained. Solace stared at her, feeling the enormity of the proprietor’s life, the
weight
of it. And under the crushing pressure of that ancient, centuries-old stare, Solace felt sympathy for the choice to eventually end one’s immortality. But even that much was terrifying.

‘Solace?’ Evan asked. ‘You okay?’

‘Yes.’ She forced her shoulders back, pushing some stray hair out of her eyes. How long had they been silent – minutes, or seconds? She couldn’t tell, and tried not to shiver. ‘I’m fine.’

There was an awkward pause.

‘What am I?’ Paige whispered, breaking it. ‘What kind of Rare?’

Everyone looked at the pixie girl. Solace’s cheeks flamed as she realised who and what they’d been talking about before Harper’s curiosity and her own introspection had sidelined the conversation. Even Liluye had the grace to look somewhat abashed, and her voice was gentle when she answered.

‘Even if I knew, it’s not my place to say. I only meant that you should trust me, Paige Bryant, and seek out the truth of yourself.’

Paige opened her mouth – to protest, Solace assumed – but no sound came out. Taking advantage of the moment, Liluye stood with an elegant roll of her shoulders. Solace stood too, as did the others, all of them responding to the subconscious knowledge that the gesture was a dismissal. There was a collective flickering of eyes, as though they’d been wakened from a dream. Paige stood last of all. Liluye smiled, but there was something sharp to the gesture – a fearsome exhaustion, like that of an ageing lioness after a hunt. Solace had the distinct impression that Liluye had given away more of herself during the conversation than she’d intended to, and was now regretting it.

‘A suite is being prepared. When it is ready, my guards will inform you. Until then, the freedom of the Rookery is yours – food, wine, whatever you may. But let me also offer you a warning. As mistress of this place, I am bound to the Rookery, and it to me. The very substance of this world is at my fingertips, but I do not intervene lightly. This realm is a sanctuary, not Paradise. There are perils here as well as wonders. Treachery lurks in sentience. Only from Grief and Sanguisidera will I vouch your safety. It is possible that the Rookery is younger than the Bloody Star, but its wards are no less powerful.’

Evan looked like he wanted to argue, but withered under the force of Liluye’s stare. Then the proprietor relented, rubbing her forehead.

‘Think on the prophecy. Consider yourselves as pilgrims. When you are ready, we will talk of other things. But until then, you’re on your own.’

‘T
his,’ said Paige, ‘is complete and utter bullshit. What does she even mean,
seek the truth of yourself
? It’s rubbish!’

‘One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,’ said Laine softly.

‘And I’m not Rare, either,’ Paige went on, choosing to ignore this. ‘I’m not! Never mind her and that stupid prophecy.’ She crossed her arms and stared out at the Rookery. Harper opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind and kept silent.

Solace knew how he felt. They had emerged from the chamber and found their way back to the open temple doorway, and stood once more at the precipice of this strange new world. They were still shaken from their conversation with Liluye and too nervous to take the crucial step outside. None of them had the slightest idea of what to do. Beyond them, strange talk buzzed and stranger folk moved, but it was like being in a fishbowl: even when other travellers walked through the foyer or down the steps, everything outside their group seemed distorted, kept at arm’s length by some invisible wall not of their own making.

Jess ran a hand through her hair, tugging some strands free of her braid. ‘Look, there’s obviously something we’re meant to do here.’

‘Meant?’ snapped Paige. ‘What do you mean,
meant
?’

‘Something we
can
do, then!’ Jess shot back, cheeks flushed. ‘Towards figuring out the prophecy. We’re all named in it, but apart from Solace, we don’t know who’s who or what the names are based on.’

‘I do,’ said Laine. Everyone turned to her. ‘I’m the Watcher,’ she said. ‘Psychic.
Secrets all unsaid.
It goes by our Tricks.’

Paige blanched white, but it was Electra who spoke, glaring at Laine. ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell us?’

‘I just did.’

‘Solace is the Daughter, though,’ said Manx, getting in ahead of anyone else. ‘That refers to who she is, not her Rarity.’

Something in Laine’s face flickered. ‘Then it’s based on our Tricks and selves. It’s a start.’

‘So, what – we’re
literally
meant to find ourselves?’ Evan laughed. ‘Very existential.’

‘That’ll be easy for you, at least. Just look for the nearest bar,’ Jess muttered.

Solace went to speak, but was forestalled by a sudden angry snort from Paige. ‘Yeah, existential. Because that stuff
always
makes sense.’

‘Actually, it does,’ said Laine, tartly. ‘Assuming you understand it.’

Paige seemed to sizzle as she stepped up to the psychic. ‘You’re calling me stupid?’

Laine held her ground, not quite smirking. ‘I don’t know. Am I?’

‘You tell me!’

‘Oh, really?’ said Laine, her voice as cool and sharp as a frost-edged blade. ‘You’re sure about that? Because there’s a few things I could tell, Paige, and not all of them would suit –’

‘Hey!’ snarled Harper, interrupting them both. Worry and anger mingled equally in his voice. ‘Back off, both of you! What the hell is your problem, anyway?’ This last to Laine. ‘Springing that Watcher stuff on us. You know what it feels like, to hear your best friend’s been keeping secrets?’

‘More than you ever have!’ Laine hissed. Solace was so taken aback by this continued display of venom that she actually jumped. Two high spots of colour had formed on the psychic’s cheeks, and her pale eyes flashed like sunstruck ice. It seemed that Harper would retaliate in kind, but a look of genuine fear crossed his face.

‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Laine, please –’

‘Guys!’ Electra stepped between them, forcing Paige, Harper and Laine to separate. ‘Just calm down, okay? What are you even talking about?’

‘She knows.’ Laine nodded coldly at Paige, who flinched. Breathing out sharply between her teeth, Laine tossed her head and took a step back, visibly reining herself in. ‘I’m sorry. Look. Forget it. There was never going to be a good time. I need to just … I need to calm down, all right? Pretend I’m not here.’

She dropped her gaze and retreated a pace, seemingly desperate to regain some semblance of anonymity. But the damage was done, and now the three of them seemed to shine like lighthouses, unable to rest their eyes on any space for more than a heartbeat.

‘Dude,’ said Evan. He looked like he wanted to say more, but in a rare display of tact, thought better of it.

‘Seriously,’ said Manx.

Harper rested his face in his palm, either unable or unwilling to answer.

‘We get it. Change of topic.’ Jess clapped her hands. ‘Or rather, a return to the original topic,
viz
: what are we doing?’

‘Drink,’ said Evan, automatically and without even the slightest glimmer of shame. ‘I could use one. At a random guess, I’m not alone.’

‘Evan.’ Solace stared at him. ‘We have left the planet Earth. We are in a pocket dimension filled with winged women, zebras and wonders galore, and you want to go to the
pub
?’

‘Solace,’ Evan replied, eyes dancing with mock seriousness. ‘Vampire dearest. Be reasonable. When have I ever wanted to do anything else?’

‘No drinks, Evan.’ Jess crossed her arms, coming to Solace’s rescue. ‘We’ve got a prophecy to unravel, and speaking as a seer who wants to live, I’m kind of enthusiastic about that.’

‘Maybe you should do another casting, then,’ Evan snarked.

Jess looked taken aback. ‘Yes, actually. That’s a good idea.’

Evan blinked. ‘Actually, no, it’s not: that was sarcasm. Do you even
remember
what happened last time?’

‘That was only because of Sharpsoft, and haven’t you been telling us that he’s a double agent for our side? If you’re right, then doing a casting should be completely safe.’

Jess raised an eyebrow. Evan opened his mouth to object, but faltered magnificently. Manx made a tutting noise and threw a comradely arm around his shoulders.

‘Never mind, mate. I’m sure you’ll get over it.’

Jess glanced around the main hall. ‘I’ll need somewhere quiet, like that room we were in before. And some bones.’ At Solace’s expression, she grinned. ‘Not
actual
bones, necessarily. Just some random crud I can use as a focal point to delineate the cast.’ She turned to Electra. ‘Any chance, Lex?’

The blonde girl nodded and closed her eyes. A bright glow suffused her, golden as a saint’s halo. Despite their relative solitude, Solace felt curiously exposed by the process, clenching her jaw until Electra’s light had faded and Jess had taken ownership of two handfuls of oddments. These consisted of a red ribbon, a crab claw, a canary feather, a tin soldier, a torn Jack of Diamonds, a twenty-sided die, an oyster shell, a matchbook, a battery, a shard of obsidian, a gold fob-watch chain and a tiny porcelain cat statuette bearing an uncanny resemblance to Duchess. Solace felt her skin prickle as she noticed this last; but if anyone else felt the same, they kept it to themselves.

Jess chuckled at this strange amalgam. ‘Perfect! All we need now is a venue.’

‘Um,’ said Harper, forcing himself back into the conversation, ‘that might be easier said than done. We passed plenty of doors on the way up from the lobby, and God only knows how big this place actually is. But I don’t want to get lost or piss anyone off by being somewhere we shouldn’t.’

‘Agreed,’ said Jess. There was a long moment of silence, wherein everyone’s gaze drifted back to the open door. As fascinated as she was by the possibilities of the Rookery, Solace found she was just as equally intimidated. The idea of walking so boldly into such a crowd felt foolishly impossible, which in turn served to frustrate the Vampire Cynic.
Just step out! It’s easy, moron – one foot after the other!

Simple though the decision seemed, her run-in with Grief had made her cautious. There was no turning back once Solace crossed the threshold. Not that she’d had that option before, but in her mind, the notion of walking confidently into such an alien world had suddenly taken on a new gravity. If she went out there, it would be like claiming her Rarity in full, and after what she’d read in Liluye’s face, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
One small step for vampire
, she thought, and fought to swallow an impulse of crazy laughter.

‘Excuse me,’ asked an unfamiliar voice, ‘but are you Liluye’s human guests?’

Jolted out of her reverie, Solace spun, mouth ajar. A lean, wolfish woman was staring at their group. Dressed in battered armour made from what looked like blue leather and carrying an ornate silver rifle over her right shoulder, she had startling lilac eyes, milk-white skin and thick red hair – not like Liluye’s orange-gold or Sanguisidera’s fire-mix, but genuine paintbox carmine, floating around her face and down her arms like an aura made visible. Her lips had a purple sheen, and her voice, when she spoke, was deep and strangely accented.

‘I think so,’ Solace managed, still somewhat startled. ‘I mean, for a given value of human.’

The woman frowned. ‘You are Eleuthera, yes?’

‘Yes.’

She held out a hand. Solace took it automatically. They shook. The woman’s palm was warm and rough with a lifetime of calluses. ‘I am Sylvia, of the Rookery guards. Liluye sent me to be your guide, until your suite is ready. Her realm is labyrinthine, and it would not do for you to become lost.’

‘We were looking for a room,’ Jess said, then quailed a little under the intensity of Sylvia’s gaze. ‘Just, you know. A place to do magic.’

Sylvia blinked. ‘Small magic or large magic?’

‘Um … small?’

‘Follow me.’

With military precision, she turned on her heel and strode off down one of the left-hand corridors, moving swiftly enough that everyone hurried to catch up. Unlike the paths they’d taken earlier, the hallway soon widened to the width of a road, branching off into a honeycomb of similarly broad alternatives, many of which were populated. With each turning they passed other denizens of the Rookery – some mechanical, some animal, some human – until, just as suddenly as it had thickened, the passage narrowed, becoming a dead-end of glass-fronted doors.

‘Here,’ said Sylvia. She stopped in front of the third door to their left and turned the handle. It opened soundlessly. ‘You will not be disturbed.’

The room was square, floored with polished black wood. A long table and ten matching chairs occupied most of the space. A grandfather clock with brass hands ticked softly in the far corner. Once they’d all filed in, the lilac-eyed guard smiled, bowed and shut the door. The cessation of noise from the hallway was instant, like having a gloved hand clamp over each ear.

Solace pulled out a chair and sat down, conscious of the scrape of wood on wood. As she adjusted to the relative quiet, she became aware of the clock’s gentle ticking, and wondered what time the Rookery could possibly keep.
Greenwich meridian, obviously
, said the Vampire Cynic.

One by one, the others took seats on either side of the table, with Paige and Laine sitting as far apart from one another as was possible. After a moment of consideration, the seer stood up again, nudged her chair sideways and knelt on it, contemplating the contents of her cupped hands. Then she closed her eyes, exhaled deeply and settled back, a low cant of sound building in her throat. Despite knowing what to expect, Solace was still fascinated, drinking in the music of Jess’s casting in anticipation of that final, keening note. But though the seer hummed and swayed, her cupped hands hovering above the surface of the table, the end release didn’t come. Already tense at the prospect of his sister’s magic, it was Evan who noticed first that something was wrong, the change in his expression all the indication Solace needed.