3
Enemies
Silas heaved himself
out of the ocean and limped on to the coastal path. Two small
firelights illuminated the cliff face as the Blackwatch lit torches
and headed down to continue their search, but Silas did not look
back. The path led him straight into the heart of Grale and a
soaking wet stranger on the streets at night was not going to go
unnoticed for long. He moved through the dark, leaving a trail of
seawater squelching behind him, and passed underneath a series of
narrow arches cut into the long terraced buildings whose dirty
walls swallowed the moonlight.
Six such arches
passed over his head and at the seventh he saw a man crouching in a
doorway. Silas kept walking. The man shifted position, as if to
make sure he would be noticed. Silas recognised a Blackwatch tactic
when he saw one. That man was a decoy, posted there to make him
turn and choose another route, guiding him into an ambush. If the
Blackwatch thought he was going to play their games they were very
wrong.
In one smooth move,
Silas kicked a loose rock up from the ground, caught it, and hurled
it at the waiting man, striking him hard on the temple and sending
him slumping to the ground. He approached cautiously. The fallen
man was unconscious, but still breathing. Then came a signal from
the dark – the flash of a tiny lens light from the furthest end of
the arches. Another member of the Blackwatch was checking
in.
Silas checked the
man’s pockets and found the leather pouch that held his lens. An
ordinary guard’s lens would have been a small circle made from cut
glass with a dull metal frame, but the Blackwatch were not ordinary
guards. Their lenses were convex discs of shaved crystal, faceted
round the edge and mounted in a thin twist of silver. With no
moonlight to reflect back beneath the arches, Silas slid a match
from a slot in the lens pouch, lit it and raised the lens to his
chest, flickering a signal to the waiting man. He knew a few of the
Blackwatch lens codes, but had no way of knowing if the one he had
used was still active. There was no reply. The code must have been
old. He had given his location away.
Silas dropped the
match, pocketed the lens and looked up. He was standing in a narrow
space between two rows of back-to-back buildings. The sky was a
sharp black slit between them and the gap between the stones was
barely three feet wide. He heard footsteps advancing towards him,
so he edged further down the pathway, grabbed hold of a stone
protruding slightly from the wall and pulled himself up. He clung
to the wall like a bat, creeping upwards and pressing his heel
against the wall behind him to gain more height wherever the stones
were too smooth to climb. Then he stayed still, clinging on by his
fingertips and the toes of his boots as a Blackwatch agent
approached.
When the officer
discovered the injured man, he readied a crossbow and searched the
alleyway for any sign of life. His target was gone. Silas watched
him take two paces into the darkness. He saw and heard the flare
and fizz of a match, then, flick-flick-flick, a lens light signal cut through
the dark.
Silas smiled. They
had lost him.
Four more Blackwatch
officers gathered between the arches as Silas continued his climb
towards the rooftops. His fingers ached as he clung to the wall.
His muscles were tiring. Something had changed. He had to get out
of sight.
He reached the neat
black tiles, squeezed up between two matching chimneystacks and
stepped on to the sloping roof. Once there, he checked his
position. Grale was a small town and he was close to its centre.
The moon cast long shadows from the forests that wrapped around
Grale like a horseshoe on three sides, and the ocean was silvery
black. Silas could see the covered dock where the smugglers’ ship
would be spending the rest of the night. He turned away from it and
followed the rooftops for as long as they lasted, then threw
himself at a post holding up one of the lantern strings, grabbed it
with both hands and slid silently to the ground. He tried to shift
his thoughts into the veil as he ran, using it to sense his
pursuers’ presence before they got too close, but the veil was not
there. He could not sense anything.
Silas stopped
running.
The veil had been a
part of his life every day for the past twelve years. For it to
suddenly be gone … it was impossible. Unthinkable. He searched for
the familiar silhouette of his crow against the sky, but he could
not pick the bird out against the background of shifting
clouds.
The street opened on
to the bank of Grale’s only river, a wide, fast-flowing waterway
crossed by three old bridges linking one side of the town to the
other. Silas followed the bank to the nearest bridge, a stone-built
pathway barely a carriage-width wide. Crossing it would leave him
too exposed and he was about to return to the cover of the streets
when Blackwatch agents emptied out of the alleyways up ahead. There
was no time to reach the buildings so Silas slithered down the bank
instead, ducking out of sight beneath the bridge.
The old structure was
weak and unstable, with large gaps in its sides where high waters
had washed chunks of it away. Years of river debris strangled the
stone pillars holding it in place and old tree trunks had been sunk
into the river bed to support its weakest points. Silt and soil
settled around Silas’s feet as he waited ankle-deep on an
underwater ledge, his black coat camouflaging him in the shadows.
The Blackwatch signalled to each other, but instead of searching
for him along the riverbank they backed away and retreated into the
side streets. Silas heard them leave and peered out of his hiding
place. A typical Continental welcome, he thought. Nothing had
changed.
A scrabbling sound
scratched close by, and his crow scuttled through the shadows, head
down, like a rat in the dark. He bent down to pick up the bird,
which snapped its beak, agitated, as footsteps echoed overhead.
Silas stood still, sword at the ready. A wet rope glinted in the
moonlight on the river. One end of it was wrapped round a rotting
tree trunk, the other trailing across the water. Two men ducked
back under the surface when Silas looked their way. How could he
have missed them? The Blackwatch had not lost him. They had
surrounded him.
The sound of
straining horses carried from the riverbank. The rope tightened.
Too late, Silas realised what was happening. He tried to run, but
the rope was already doing its work. The rotten tree trunk was
starting to give, lean and split. The weight of the bridge was not
enough to stop the timber from shifting and the first stones began
to fall; stones that became an avalanche, collapsing into the river
and crashing down on to Silas’s ledge.
The crow launched
itself through the destruction as a chunk of rock slammed into
Silas’s shoulder, punching him to the ground. He tried to get up,
but there was no time. He threw his arm over his head to protect
himself as the bridge fell in, burying him beneath a hail of rubble
and sealing him in the dark.
Kate looked out into
the meeting hall at the people she had once trusted; people who
believed she was capable of murder. Many of them were nodding their
agreement with Baltin’s words, and some were even applauding the
decision, as if some great criminal was about to get the justice
she deserved. The sight of so many enemies made Kate feel cold.
Artemis had tried to keep her away from the Skilled. He had tried
to protect her from their world all her life. Now she knew
why.
She looked for her
uncle up on the stage. He was just sitting there, silent. ‘I don’t
believe this is happening,’ she said.
‘Someone has to do
something,’ said Edgar. ‘We need to get you out of here.’ He left
the safety of the anteroom and stepped straight out into the
meeting hall, drawing angry looks and shouts of surprise from
people sitting close by.
‘Wait,’ whispered
Kate. ‘What are you doing?’
Edgar hesitated for a
moment, not sure what to say, until one of the Skilled spoke
out.
‘You are not meant to
be in here,’ she said. ‘What’s going on?’
Baltin spoke loudly
from the stage at the front of the hall, ‘Is something
wrong?’
‘Edgar has been
hiding in here, listening to us,’ said the woman, as the whole hall
turned to look at the intruder. ‘He’s not supposed to be here,
Baltin.’
‘Why not?’ demanded
Edgar. ‘I care about what happens to Kate, and I know that she
deserves a lot better than this. Being turned upon by people who
should be her friends.’
‘That murderer is no
friend of ours,’ said the man sitting at the front. ‘We have no
argument with you or your brother, but that girl has brought death
to this cavern. She is a threat to us all.’
Edgar walked up to
the stage. ‘Artemis, tell them they’re wrong about Kate. Tell them
they mustn’t do this.’
Artemis hung his
head, tapping his fingertips together nervously. ‘I … I can’t,’ he
said.
‘Why
not?’
‘I can’t keep her
safe any more. Not on my own,’ he said. ‘This place … these people.
They understand what Kate is going through. They can help
her.’
‘Help her? They think
she’s a murderer!’
‘I know that. But up
there, on the surface, the wardens are still looking for her. I
can’t let the council find her again.’
Artemis handed Edgar
a folded piece of paper. Edgar opened it and read it quickly. It
was a wanted poster, showing Kate’s face and her name written in
thick black letters. Edgar scrunched it up in his
fist.
‘That doesn’t mean
anything,’ he said.
‘You told me we could
trust the Skilled,’ said Artemis. ‘You were the one who said to
bring Kate here.’
‘We didn’t have any
choice!’
‘And I don’t have any
choice now,’ said Artemis. ‘Baltin has given me his word that no
harm will come to her. I don’t want to do this, Edgar, but it is
the only way I can see to keep her safe.’
‘So you’re just going
to let them lock her away?’ said Edgar. ‘Just shut her up and
forget about her, is that it? Do you really want that to
happen?’
‘At least she will be
safe,’ said Artemis. ‘That’s all I can hope for her
now.’
Baltin pressed a
reassuring hand on Artemis’s shoulder. ‘The girl’s guardian has
made no objection,’ he said. ‘Kate will be collected and taken to
the lockhouse. We will decide her punishment in due
course.’
The gathered people
all stood up at once and Edgar climbed on to the stage, unable to
believe they were all calmly making their way back out into their
lives.
‘You can’t do this!’
he shouted. ‘I told her you would help her, but you’re just as bad
as the council! You’re treating her the way they have treated you
for centuries, all because you’re afraid of what you don’t
understand.’
No one responded.
Many of the Skilled looked back at him as they left, their dark
eyes flashing with anger. The door of Kate’s hiding place moved and
Edgar saw her looking straight out at Artemis. As far as she could
tell, he had not even tried to convince them that she couldn’t have
killed Mina, that she would never kill anyone. Artemis saw her and
turned away.
‘At least you’re
ashamed of what you’re doing,’ said Edgar.
Artemis stood up. His
clothes were scruffier than usual and he looked as though he had
not slept for days. ‘Baltin,’ he said, ‘there is no need to send
your people after Kate.’
‘The decision has
been made, Artemis. I warned you this could happen. You agreed that
it was right.’
Artemis wrung his
hands, struggling with what he was about to say. Kate waited for
him to speak up for her, to try to put right what the Skilled had
got terribly wrong, and then he raised his hand and pointed
directly at her hiding place. ‘She is there,’ he said.
Kate could not
believe what she was seeing. Artemis could have distracted Baltin,
or at least said nothing. He could have given her a chance to
explain herself and maybe make some kind of difference to the
judgement passed against her. Instead he just pointed at her,
handing her over as if he too was convinced of her
guilt.
Edgar jumped off the
edge of the stage and bolted between the rows of seats towards her.
‘Kate!’ he shouted. ‘We have to go!’
But Kate was not
ready to leave.
The air in the
meeting hall was changing. Something was shifting within the veil.
Kate heard a sound like roaring thunder, the spirits around the
paintings in the ceiling looked suddenly clearer, and she felt the
veil tugging at her thoughts, fighting for her attention against
what was happening in the room. Dizziness overwhelmed her. The
ceilling pressed down towards her and the walls leaned in. She
backed slowly into the anteroom, pressing her back against the tomb
in the centre of the floor. It was hard to breathe. The sound of
rushing water echoed around her, her body would not move, and she
heard the screech of a bird from somewhere nearby.
Kate slid down the
side of the tomb and sat on the floor. Images flickered in front of
her eyes: water, feathers and stone. She could smell the tang of
blood and feel the rough touch of stone crushing her fingertips.
None of it made any sense. She couldn’t stop it. All she could do
was let it happen. She wanted to scream but her lungs would not
work. Then Edgar was in front of her. He took hold of her hand and
the veil pulled back. The images faded. Her body came back under
her control and tears were streaming down her cheeks.
‘Come on,’ said
Edgar, gently pulling her to her feet. ‘We’ll get out of
here.’
‘No,’ said Kate.
‘Something’s wrong.’
‘A lot of things are
wrong right now. We have to go.’
‘I think it’s Silas,’
said Kate. ‘Something has happened. I could feel him.’ She looked down at her hands,
remembering the pressure of the stone pressing on them. ‘He’s
hurt.’
‘We can talk about
that later,’ said Edgar. ‘There’s nothing we can do about it now.
Are you coming?’
Kate nodded. She let
Edgar pull her into the meeting hall and they slammed out of the
front door side by side.
The Skilled’s cavern
was dimly lit to simulate the night that hung over the City Above.
The lantern light gave a warm glow to the curved ceiling of red
bricks and illuminated the two long rows of houses where the
Skilled lived. They had been too slow. Greta the magistrate was
already standing in the street, flanked by two of Baltin’s
strongest guards, waiting for her.
‘Great,’ said Edgar,
keeping tight hold of Kate’s hand.
‘The judgement has
been passed,’ said Greta. ‘The verdict was fair.’
‘It is more than she
deserves,’ said one of the men. ‘We should hand her over to the
wardens for what she has done.’
Edgar whispered to
Kate without moving his lips. ‘If we’re going, we have to go now.
Follow my lead.’
The two guards
flinched when it looked as if Edgar was going to move. Greta took a
step closer.
‘The cavern is
sealed,’ she said. ‘There is no way out.’
More of the Skilled
were gathering around them, their dark eyes fixed intently upon
Kate. Her hands felt icy cold, and beads of water dripped to the
ground as the heat of Edgar’s grip melted the frost that gathered
on them as the veil closed in.
‘What are they
doing?’ asked Edgar, refusing to let go.
‘It’s not them,’ said
Kate. ‘It’s the vell. Something is different about
it.’
‘Miss Winters?’
Baltin’s voice spoke behind her. ‘It is time to answer for what you
have done. Come with us now. You can do yourself no good out here.
Let the boy go.’
Kate realised that
she was holding Edgar’s hand so tightly that his fingers were
turning white, and she let go of him at once.
‘That’s right,’ said
Baltin, signalling the two men to walk slowly towards her. ‘Edgar,
stand aside, if you please.’
‘No. You can’t just
take her!’
‘Don’t you see what
is happening?’ said Baltin. ‘She does not have full control of her
link to the veil, and that makes her dangerous. She may not even
remember killing Mina. Do you want the same thing to happen to
you?’
Kate’s pupils sheened
with silver as they reflected the lamplight.
‘This girl has
already gone too deep into things which are none of her concern,’
said Baltin. ‘The Night of Souls was … there is no other word for
it, it was an abomination. The effects of the damage Kate did in
that circle are still being felt across the veil. She is dangerous
and always will be dangerous. We cannot allow her to make the same
mistakes again.’
‘She used a listening
circle,’ said Edgar. ‘It’s hardly a crime.’
‘In our world, it
should be,’ said Baltin. ‘She opened a listening circle, exposed a
crowd of innocent people to the dangers of the half-life and
interfered with the fates of thousands of tormented souls. If sheer
luck had not allowed her to contain the shades in that circle the
consequences would have been unimaginable.’
‘But she did contain them,’ said Edgar. ‘She didn’t open the
circle. Da’ru did. If Kate hadn’t taken control of it who knows
what would have happened. She helped people that night, something
the Skilled haven’t done for a very long time.’
‘As I said. Luck,’
said Baltin. ‘It could have all ended very differently. Do not
forget the blood that was shed because of her. Wardens and a
councilwoman all slain within an active circle. Do you have any
idea what could have happened if Kate had lost
control?’
‘Those deaths weren’t
Kate’s fault!’
‘Perhaps not, but it
doesn’t change the fact that those circles are instruments of great
unknown power. Even the Skilled do not yet know the extent of their
influence upon the living world. Kate’s actions were reckless, and
we may only now be beginning to see the consequences. She tore a
gateway between the worlds of the living and the dead; one larger
than any that has been seen within living memory. An act like that
has far-reaching effects. Who knows how many are yet to suffer for
what she has done?’
‘Rubbish!’ said
Edgar. ‘Kate didn’t harm anything or anyone and you’re all crazy to
think that she ever would.’
‘That’s enough,’
Baltin said sternly. ‘You are a guest in this cavern, Mr Rill.
Remember that.’
Edgar was about to
argue, but a flicker of doubt crossed Kate’s mind. What if Baltin
was right? What if she had done something wrong? What if she was
dangerous? Kate knew too well how close the hundreds of people in
the city square had come to death on the Night of Souls. She had
seen the current of death with her own eyes, she had watched it
claim the life of the councilwoman Da’ru and she had helped do its
work. Baltin was right: if anything had happened to the gathered
people that night she would have been responsible. She could not
risk anything like that happening again.
Kate stepped forward
and turned to Edgar. ‘I’m going with them,’ she said. ‘It’ll be all
right.’
‘No, it won’t. They
won’t let you out again. They’ll keep you down here. Kate!’ But
Baltin’s men were already surrounding her.
Two of them held
Edgar back as Kate followed Baltin down the cavern’s main street,
heading towards a small building that was off limits to anyone
except the one who held the key. The locks on the door were stiff
from disuse. Baltin swung open the door and stepped inside the
candlelit darkness, signalling for Kate to follow.
Inside was a single
room that the Skilled used as a lockhouse. Someone had been in
recently and prepared it for her arrival. There was a bed next to
the door, a long table stacked with old books that looked as if
they had come from someone’s dusty attic, and a row of shelves that
ran all the way round the circular wall, holding four lit candles,
already burned halfway down.
‘For your own sake, I
suggest you get used to this place,’ said Baltin, his voice echoing
dully round the room. ‘You can do no harm in here, and you shall
remain here until we decide upon a more permanent
solution.’
‘I haven’t hurt
anybody,’ said Kate, as Baltin positioned himself between her and
the door. ‘I didn’t kill Mina.’
‘This is not just
about that,’ said Baltin. ‘We all knew what you were, even before
you did. You may think you have not hurt anyone, but the veil does
not lie to us. It warned us about you four years ago and it says
that, given time, you will. I have people to take care of here.
They trust me to do what is right, and this is right. Do you really
think Mina would not have done the same once she had learned
everything she could from you?’
‘Mina welcomed me
into her home,’ said Kate. ‘She trusted me, just as she trusted my
parents. They gave their lives to help the Skilled. Do you really think I would break that
trust?’
‘Children are not
their parents,’ said Baltin. ‘You may be right about Mina, but look
what happened to her. The veil warned us about your … unique
capabilities. I respect your family, I always have, but I would be
a fool to ignore that warning now. I cannot afford to trust you,
Kate, and since you agreed to be brought here, I do not think you
even trust yourself. You will have regular meals, but no visitors
until we decide what to do with you. Beyond that, I can promise
nothing.’
Baltin left the room,
leaving Kate standing there alone. He turned the locks tight and
rattled the door after each one to make sure it was sealed. The
moment the last lock slid into place, he and his men walked away
and silence fell hauntingly in the room – the kind of silence that
suggested that someone was standing close by, trying not to
breathe.
Kate picked up the
nearest candle and held it up. She felt as if someone was watching
her. Her skin prickled, and it was only then that she noticed the
trails of frost veining her arms. The veil was closer than usual in
that place and it made her uneasy. ‘This is it,’ she told herself
aloud, sitting down on the bed. ‘This is what you have to look
forward to for who knows how long.’
A deep whisper
circled round the room in answer to her words, and Kate shivered.
She dared to reach into the veil a little and saw the shadowy forms
of shades standing against the walls like statues carved into the
stone. Seeing them so clearly no longer scared her, and their
presence gave her some small comfort as she sat there on her own.
If Baltin wanted her to stay out of the veil, locking her away was
not going to do any good. He had to have known that. Sitting there
in the silence, Kate could not help thinking about what kind of
permanent solution he and the magistrate had in mind.