19
The Night of Souls
Edgar caught up with
Silas and Kate on the front steps and the three of them stood there
together, looking out across a city that was completely
transformed.
A lot had happened
outside the museum since the listening circle had been
opened.
Celebrations for the
Night of Souls had begun.
Hundreds of people
filled the streets, singing, dancing and celebrating the lives of
their ancestors, unaware of what had just taken place inside the
old museum. Carriages hung with long coloured ribbons trundled
through the streets, winding between groups of women in fine
dresses and men in hats and brightly-striped cloaks.
There were
storytellers on horseback, walking proudly along with troupes of
listeners trailing behind them like a living cloak. Dancers weaved
expertly through the crowd and blue banners had been hung from the
towers high above them, reflecting the light of the moon and
imbuing the city with a strange eerie glow. Some of the banners had
been painted with large black eyes, as people wanted to believe
that their ancestors were watching over them. Kate doubted any of
them would really be ready to know the truth.
At ground level the
streets flickered with moving candlelight. Many people were
carrying candles to remember the lives of the dead and each of them
wore a feathered mask over their eyes, decorated with tiny crystals
that sparkled in the flames. They moved together in one long
procession, snaking their way towards the centre of the city, where
small bonfires were casting smoke and heat across the cold night
sky.
Bright music filled
the air and Kate spotted a group of musicians at the base of the
museum steps, playing fiddles and flutes and thumping a beat out on
a huge deep drum. Three of them had painted their faces deathly
white, were wearing tattered clothes and had blackened their teeth,
and other people in the crowd had dressed the same way to represent
the dead rising up from their graves to join in the
celebration.
Kate had always
respected the Night of Souls, but standing there in a graveyard
city overtaken by the rich and their slaves, it felt gruesome and
ghoulish. The sound of other instruments echoed loudly from the
towers and she could not help staring at the spectacle below her as
the colour and noise of the Night of Souls brought the ancient city
to life.
Silas kept to the
shadows and looked up at the rooftops, vainly searching for his
lost crow. ‘I said you could go,’ he said absently. ‘Why are you
still here?’
‘You’re going after
Da’ru, aren’t you?’ said Kate.
‘I have a promise to
keep.’ Silas clenched his fists. ‘Da’ru will pay for what she has
done.’
‘I want to go with
you.’
Silas looked down at
her.
‘I’ve done everything
I could to help you,’ said Kate. ‘Now I need your help. You owe me
that.’
‘I owe you
nothing.’
A stray firework
streaked from the crowd and burst with an ear-splitting bang
overhead. Three more followed and Silas headed down the centre of
the steps, pushing through the people as they danced and twirled
their way along like a living river.
Kate ran to catch up
to him.
‘What are you doing?’
shouted Edgar, struggling to be heard above the noise as he
followed her down. ‘He said we could go!’
Kate was jostled,
pushed and squeezed between enormous dresses as the masked dancers
swallowed her into their midst. She fought her way past pipe
players, horses in black veils and men on stilts wearing decorated
blindfolds who were throwing handfuls of dead leaves over anyone
they could reach. She ducked beneath one of the stilt walkers and a
woman next to her cried out as a single red leaf caught in Kate’s
hair.
‘She’s next!’ she
shouted, trying to grab Kate before she slipped away. ‘This girl
will be the next to die!’
Kate ignored the
woman and left the leaf flapping where it was. She had no time for
superstition. They had the same tradition in her own town but no
one took it seriously any more. The woman shouted something after
her, but she was already too far away to hear. She had spotted
Silas moving up ahead and she was closing in.
‘I did everything you
wanted,’ she shouted the moment she was close enough. ‘I need your
help. I need you to help me find my uncle. He could have been up
here, safe with us, and you just left him behind!’
‘We both left him behind,’ said Silas, refusing to slow
his pace. ‘I did not hear you complain about it until after the
deed was done.’
‘I have to find him!’
said Kate. ‘Edgar said those wardens went to the museum looking for
you - and Wintercraft. Artemis was the
only other person who knew that you had it.’ She dodged the hot
breath of a fire breather and people squealed excitedly away from
the flames. ‘He wouldn’t have told anyone about it unless someone
forced him to. I think Da’ru has him. I need you to help me get him
back.’
‘Your family’s
problems are no concern of mine,’ said Silas. ‘I have spared your
life and I spared his. That is payment enough.’
Silas pushed his way
on to a street lined with stalls selling every kind of food that
Kate had ever known. Steam rose from hot fire ovens, soups bubbled
in enormous pots and water spat from open pans. The smells were
intoxicating. Kate had not eaten since she had been locked in the
Council’s cell and her stomach growled as she followed Silas
through clouds of heat filled with the scent of spices, fried meats
and stewed fruits.
‘You told me that you
were honourable,’ she said, ducking beneath the outstretched arm of
a biscuit seller. ‘That you never say things unless you intend to
carry them out. You said that as long as I did what you told me,
Artemis would live. I’ve tried to do everything you wanted and he
is still in danger. You broke your word. I don’t think you have any
honour.’
Silas stopped and
spun around to face her. ‘You do not know me, Miss Winters. Do not
pretend to.’
A handful of masked
people stared at Silas, recognising him at once, and Kate heard
them whispering together before they backed away. Word of his
presence spread swiftly, the people parted around him and he forced
his way past a sausage seller, almost toppling the terrified man’s
cart as he made a sharp right turn down into an empty barrow
alley.
‘When those wardens
don’t report back, Da’ru will know something is wrong,’ shouted
Kate, starting to get out of breath. ‘Her guards will be waiting
for you. They will stop you before you even get close to her. You
want Da’ru and I want Artemis. If we work together … maybe we can
both get what we want.’
‘You are a
bookseller,’ said Silas. ‘Whatever plan you think you have, it will
not work.’
‘Da’ru still wants
me, doesn’t she? What if we went to see her together, with me as
your prisoner? How close would the guards let you get to her
then?’
That got Silas’s
attention. He stopped walking so suddenly that Kate almost bumped
into him. ‘You would not suggest that if you knew the
consequences,’ he said.
‘I don’t care about
that.’
‘You should care.
Da’ru is not the only one in the High Council who is interested in
the workings of the veil. They know what you are now. They will
never let you go once they have you. They will imprison you and
experiment upon you, regardless of anything that happens to
her.’
‘And what will they
do to you for killing a councilwoman?’
Silas’s eyes grew
darker. ‘Whatever happens, it will be worth it to see the look on
Da’ru’s face when I send her into death,’ he said.
‘And your best chance
of doing that, is with my help.’
‘Our help,’ said Edgar, panting up beside them.
‘Da’ru still has my brother. If there’s a chance I can help him, I
have to do it. I don’t want to leave him behind
again.’
‘I will not protect
you. Either of you,’ said Silas. ‘It is of no interest to me if you
live or die.’
‘We know that,’ said
Kate.
‘Then you are both
fools. But you are right. Presenting you as my prisoner would
certainly get Da’ru’s attention.’
A dog’s fierce bark
echoed above the music.
‘The wardens must not
find us,’ Silas said. ‘Follow me.’
The barrow alley led
into another part of the crowd and the flow of people carried them
along so strongly that Kate lost sight of Silas as he raced ahead
again, disappearing between a moving carriage and a masked juggler
on horseback. She kept going, trying to spot him in the heaving
crowd and Edgar pushed his way along beside her.
‘Can you see him?’ he
shouted.
‘No.’
‘Where did he
go?’
Kate spotted him at
last, walking through a wide stone archway that linked two towers
together. Beneath it, tucked just inside an alleyway, was a
two-horse carriage decorated with black ribbons and paper skulls.
The carriage still had a driver, but he was more interested in
watching the crowd than in anything else going on around him. Silas
crept up beside him, grabbed the whip and held it firmly to the
man’s throat. Kate was too far away to hear what was said, but
Silas talked while the driver just nodded nervously. She was
expecting the worst, until Silas lowered the whip and the driver
leaped down from his seat, fleeing into the night.
‘What did you say to
him?’ she asked, running to the carriage.
‘I gave him a
choice,’ said Silas. ‘He chose to live. Get in.’
Kate and Edgar
climbed into the back of the carriage and Silas snapped on the
reins, guiding the horses swiftly out into the busy streets. Kate
looked out of the window at the leaning towers gathered around
them, which looked much older and more decrepit than any she had
seen before. ‘Is this the way to the council chambers?’ she asked.
‘I haven’t been in this part of the city before.’
‘We’re not going to
the chambers,’ said Edgar. ‘Da’ru won’t be there
tonight.’
‘Then where are we
going?’
‘The city square. The
High Council go there every year. That’s where Da’ru will
be.’
Silas took the
carriage down through the narrowest streets of the city, dodging
the busiest areas and driving the horses along at a steady pace. He
could have gone faster, but he did not want to draw attention to
himself. No amount of prisoners would do him any good if he was
captured by a warden patrol. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead,
concentrating on the task before him, until the four round towers
marking the corners of the city square rose slowly into
sight.
Fume’s main square
was very different from the one in Morvane. It was edged by tall
white-stoned buildings with arched roofs and high stained-glass
windows and, instead of barrow alleys, the crowd entered through
ornate stone tunnels that sloped gently upwards, decorated with
carvings that looked centuries old. Silas took the carriage into
one of them and stopped it a short way inside. ‘We’ll get out
here,’ he said, speaking through the hatch behind his
seat.
They abandoned the
carriage behind another that had stopped in the same place and then
they were part of the crowd again, squeezing along by candlelight
into the bright fiery glow of the square.
Inside the straight
edges of the outer buildings, Kate was surprised to see that the
city square was not a square at all. It was a circle. The tunnel
came out at the top of a long staircase, which led down to stepped
galleries of wooden seats surrounding a sunken circle of stone. A
huge bonfire was burning at one side of the circle, most of the
seats were full, and the whole place rippled with noise as people
began cheering and clapping at a line of polished black carriages
that rolled into the circle through a pair of high arched doors.
Kate remembered the vision of Da’ru she had seen in the council
tower and knew that this was the night she had seen. The Night of
Souls. It was actually happening.
‘Time to go,’ said
Silas, clipping the silver chain back on to Kate’s
wrist.
‘This wasn’t what we
agreed!’ she said.
‘You are my prisoner,
exactly as we agreed,’ said Silas. ‘Now
walk.’
Kate heard four thuds
as wardens closed heavy wooden doors across the mouths of the
entrance tunnels. The stairways between the galleries were packed
with people trying to find a seat before whatever was about to
happen began. Silas forced a path through them, pulling Kate along
so fast that Edgar was soon left behind, his face lost amongst a
sea of strangers.
Down in the circle,
the carriages’ passengers stepped out into the open air and twelve
of the councilmen took their seats near the centre, surrounded by
twice as many of their own personal guards. The thirteenth council
member, Da’ru, walked over to a large stone table, ready to address
the crowd, and anyone who was still on the stairs stopped where
they were to listen to what she had to say.
‘Once again, we are
together,’ she said, her voice carrying powerfully around the
square as firelight reflected from a glass locket at her throat.
‘The war goes on, both outside our borders and now within, as those
upon the Continent continue to challenge us for what is rightly
ours. Our people fight to protect us, to defend our lives and
preserve our history, but as we, the inhabitants of this ancient
city, know only too well, no victory can be achieved without
sacrifice.’
Silas and Kate came
up against a tight group of people blocking their way. Da’ru
signalled to her carriage and Tom climbed out, carrying a cage with
a large bird flapping angrily inside.
‘Those upon the
Continent think they can defeat us,’ said Da’ru. ‘But they have not
yet seen our true strength. Our ancestors are always by our side.
They guide us and watch us from a place beyond the veil. Once a
year we ask them to reveal themselves, to lead us forward and show
us our path. Tonight, I call upon them to honour us. To show us
that they are here. To prove to us that Albion does not fight
alone!’
Cheers exploded
around the square. Many people stood up and the few who had brought
drums beat them to a rousing rhythm that grew faster as Da’ru
thrust her hand inside the cage and pulled the bird out by its
neck. It pecked and scratched, cutting her arm, but Da’ru took no
notice. The councilmen watched as she pinned the flapping bird
against the tabletop and held a shining glass dagger high above her
head.
‘Move!’ demanded
Silas, forcing his way through the crowd.
That was his bird!
His crow!
‘By the rite of black
feather and red blood, I call to the ancestors. We are here. We are
waiting. Show yourselves to us!’ Da’ru brought the blade down and
plunged it into the struggling bird’s chest; with one last weak
flap of its wings, it was dead.
The crowd fell
silent. The drums slowed to a deep low beat and Da’ru held the
crow’s limp body up for all to see. A drop of blood fell on to her
necklace and the bonfire flared suddenly in a gust of strong wind.
The flames rose, died a little and then rose again. It must have
happened a hundred times since the fire had been lit, but the crowd
cheered again even louder than before, taking it as a sign that
their ancestors had answered Da’ru’s call.
‘The proof is given!’
she shouted. ‘We are protected!’
‘Councilwoman Da’ru!’
Silas’s voice thundered over the sounds of celebration as he
reached the edge of the circle. Wardens closed in around him, but
Da’ru, noticing that he had a prisoner, signalled for them to move
away.
‘Let him through,’
she said.
People in the lowest
seats fell quiet immediately and frightened whispers spread swiftly
around the square. Every one of them knew the face and deeds of
Silas Dane.
Kate followed Silas
into the circle and halfway across it she felt something change.
The air was different there. Dead and thin, like the air inside a
tomb.
‘What are you doing
here, Silas?’ Da’ru’s voice was calm and threatening. The crowd was
too far away to hear her words, but the councilmen were listening
with interest.
‘I have brought you
what you asked for,’ said Silas. ‘The girl and the
book.’
‘You have
Wintercraft? Here with you
now?’
‘The girl has it.’
Silas pulled Kate forward. ‘Show her.’
Kate pulled
Wintercraft slowly out of her coat
pocket and Silas took the precious book, handing it formally to the
councilwoman.
‘I believed you had
turned against me, Silas,’ said Da’ru. ‘I will admit, I did not
expect to see any loyalty from you tonight.’
‘You command the
circles,’ said Silas. ‘With Wintercraft, you can conduct the ritual of souls
the way it was meant to be done. That is what you want, after
all.’
‘I never should have
let this out of my sight,’ said Da’ru. ‘And I should have kept a
far closer eye on you from the beginning. Two mistakes that I shall
not make again.’
Silas glanced at the
dead crow on the table and his eyes narrowed, just for a second.
Kate sensed his anger, but Da’ru was too busy turning through
Wintercraft’s pages, making sure they
were all intact. Once satisfied, she closed the book and spoke loud
enough for everyone in the square to hear.
‘As many of you know,
Silas Dane is one of Albion’s most loyal sons,’ she said. ‘He was
once our greatest warrior and now he is our finest collector,
ensuring that this country is kept safe from the few unwanted
elements who still lurk within our midst. For generations the
Skilled have chosen to hide in fear rather than stand at your side,
yet I stepped forward, the only one among them willing to use the
veil to help our country survive. Many of those cowards have since
been hunted and captured because of Silas’s efforts. He has proven
himself a hero to us many times over, but what you do not know is
that Silas is far more than any ordinary man. He is unique.’ Da’ru
walked right up to Silas, and Kate was sure he would take that
chance to strike, but still he held back. ‘Silas has seen the very
depths of the veil for himself. He has walked the path into death
and he has survived.’
Half of the crowd
cheered again, thinking that Da’ru’s speech was all part of the
festivities, while the other half stayed quiet.
‘Twelve years ago, I
witnessed Silas’s death. And, using knowledge passed down to me by
our ancestors themselves, I changed his fate. I reached out to his
spirit and returned it to our world.’
That was a lie. Kate
watched Silas, waiting for him to say something.
‘Many of you may not
believe me. But here, tonight, I shall prove it.’ Da’ru signalled
to Tom, who ran along to the rear black carriage and opened its
door. ‘You are all gathered here to see proof of life enduring
beyond death. Proof which I, and the rest of the High Council,
fully intend to provide.’
Two wardens stepped
out of the carriage carrying someone awkwardly between them:
someone slung in a blanket with a bloodied leg swinging out over
the side.
‘This prisoner is a
traitor,’ said Da’ru. ‘He has been found guilty of theft and of
conspiracy against the High Council. For that, he deserves death.
All traitors must face their executioner and this man shall be no
different. But tonight, I intend to show mercy to this criminal. I
have restored life to the dead once before and, once his rightful
sentence has been carried out, to prove Albion’s strength beyond
any doubt, I shall do it again.’
The crowd chanted
together as the wardens rolled the prisoner out of the blanket and
on to the table. ‘Traitor. Traitor. Traitor.’
His wrists were bound
and he wriggled painfully as the wardens tied him down, leaving him
powerless to do anything except look nervously around at the people
surrounding him.
‘Artemis,’ whispered
Kate.
Da’ru was already
cleaning the crow’s blood from her blade. ‘Prepare him,’ she
said.