Fair Rebel

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Fair Rebel Page 13

by Steph Swainston


  ‘She’s curious … about me.’

  ‘She’s wondering what you are.’

  He spread his wings and she widened her eyes. ‘She wants to kiss me.’

  ‘She wants your warm, beating heart.’

  ‘Jant, I can fly underwater.’

  ‘There’ll be a swirl of blood, and you’re gone!’

  Also in the tank were a mirth of Stinguish and a few Maidmers, which have the heads of codfish but human lower bodies, legs and genitals. Saker studied the Thula as if he didn’t know whether to fuck her or fry her. I pulled him away.

  ‘Let go! I want to watch.’

  ‘You haven’t time!’

  ‘Where are the mermaids? Can I swim with actual mermaids?’

  ‘Not here, or she would’ve eaten them.’

  The tank became shallow at one end, and basking with the warm water washing over him was a naked man, brawny, his kelp-brown hair tangled with shells. Mournfully he watched us pass, with sloe-black, doleful eyes.

  ‘Is that a merman?’

  ‘He’s The Great Silkie. On land, he’s a seal. At sea, he’s a man. Got cursed the wrong way round.’

  We came to Dunlin’s box. Dunlin had been watching us since the tank. He was on his feet with a shocked expression. ‘Lightning?’

  Saker stared. ‘Dunlin …?’

  ‘Lightning, why are you here? Are you …?’

  ‘He’s not dead,’ I said. ‘It’s a Shift. Not with drugs, no! With music! Can you believe it?’

  Dunlin scrutinised Saker, who stood astonished, overwhelmed at seeing his old comrade-in-arms. Whatever he’d planned to say had evaporated. Then he bowed. ‘Dunlin Rachiswater! I’ve waited so long to speak with you.’

  Dunlin opened his arms. ‘Then come here.’

  They embraced like brothers. Dunlin was shorter, barrel-chested, in a pleat-backed coat, breeches and boots. Nothing here looked regal at all – what I’d thought was a canopy was simply a sunshade. Also in the box was Dunlin’s Map of All Worlds, a large black newt with no distinguishing features and a white goose.

  The goose was a goose. Let me describe the map. It was my original chart of Epsilon, on a plain trestle table, but now with ten or more layers above and below it. Dunlin had cut pockets into the table at specific places and pasted maps below to signify portals into other worlds. Layers of maps were suspended on struts above, interconnected at angles, illustrating further worlds tangling into gnarly nexuses. At places one or two maps hovered alone, and near the middle he’d constructed an origami tower, representing god knows what. The whole thing was a fabulous sculpture – chaotic in its hopeless, fanatical attempt to show reality. Diagonally, in red pencil, in a menacing arc across all the worlds, he’d marked the front of the Insect expansion.

  I found the Fourlands between Epsilon and Plennish, something called Sidney above Plennish and, below Epsilon, the horror of Dekabrayer with the Front creeping onwards.

  ‘Really, you’re not dead, are you?’ Dunlin pressed Saker’s shoulder. ‘Don’t say you’re staying?’

  ‘No … So much has happened! I’m married now, to Eleonora Tanager, and—’

  Dunlin frowned.

  ‘His Shift won’t last long,’ I said.

  Saker tried to figure out what to say. ‘Dunlin … I came to thank you for saving Cyan from the Gabbleratchet. And to make a few requests …’

  ‘The Vermiform saved Cyan.’

  ‘But didn’t you ask it to?’

  ‘We agreed to rescue her, on condition she doesn’t come here again.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s a goose,’ I said.

  ‘Look!’ Dunlin gestured at the pitch, where the spider was sucking the last bug dry. ‘This is our confederation against the Insects. I’m not a king, any more; there are no titles here. All these people struggle with the Insects. We’re testing new inventions.’

  ‘That spider’s very effective,’ I said.

  ‘It’s a Cell Spider.’

  ‘Do you have any spare?’

  ‘No. Not really … I could do with more, myself.’ Dunlin ran a hand over his grey hair and stretched out his long, cinnabar-red wings. ‘I can only find one Cell Spider per world. They’re solitary, so they must be able to Shift. They’re the only natural predators of Insects I’ve found as yet, but those fangs will drive through plate armour, too.’

  Saker was still dazed, so I kept going. ‘What else are you testing?’

  ‘The Sentient Drones … which are invaluable, although their satellite’s in orbit around an entirely different world. And I’ve discovered some Insect parasites. Insects from Plennish have yellow ticks clinging to their shells – you won’t have seen them. We’re trying to infect more.’

  ‘Any success?’

  ‘I think it’s slowing them down at Sauria.’

  I said, ‘We’ve been filling Insect passages with gas from lime kilns. It suffocates them. And we’re blowing them up with gunpowder charges. I know you’re looking for uranium.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘San says you can mine it in Lowespass if you help us clear the Paperlands.’

  Dunlin laughed. ‘Ah, Jant. Always asking for assistance. You don’t know what you’re offering. That weapon’s so powerful you can’t occupy the land afterwards. The Plennishers only use it in extremis. They don’t half destroy the Insects, though!’

  ‘Then glowing bugs attacked us. They tunnelled to Osseous and spread the contamination to my country.’ A chiselled woman, Magor, who captained the Equinnes clopped in, and sat on the bench, watching the Cell Spider perforate a new batch of Insects.

  Saker stared at her. He said to Dunlin, ‘The need for these innovations is proof we’re overwhelmed.’

  ‘Oh, Mica! Just what I’d expect you to say! We’re progress. There’s no stopping us. But it’s good … very good … to see you again.’

  ‘I’m grateful for the chance. I’m glad you’re still … in existence. Still fighting.’

  ‘I’ll never stop.’

  Saker nodded hesitantly and swallowed. ‘I’ve been wanting to visit since I left the Circle … I have a request.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’m mortal now, and at some point I’m going to die. Before my death, however it happens, I will ask Jant to give me a dose of scolopendium and lead me here, as he did for you. Then we can fight side by side, Dunlin, the way we used to. As we did for twenty years. Rachiswater and Micawater – just think what we could achieve!’

  Dunlin looked uncertain. ‘And you’d live here forever?’

  ‘My second chance at immortality.’

  He broke into laughter. ‘Of course! You’d love it! And we need you. We’ll show you Epsilon! Osseous. The Aureate. The Airfield!’

  ‘Hey!’ I said. ‘Do I have a say in this?’

  ‘Comet,’ said Saker. ‘I know you brought Cotinga through.’

  ‘Ah. Well—’

  ‘And Exhellanie from Shivel, when the Insects got him.’

  ‘We kept it secret!’

  ‘Tern told me how much they paid you. I know San forbade you to bring men here, because he doesn’t want a drugs epidemic, but you’re saving dying people, aren’t you? In my will you’ll be remembered … generously.’

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about it, but Dunlin and Saker, one silver-grey, one scarlet-gold, shook hands and laughed.

  ‘And what do you want from us?’ said the goose.

  Saker almost jumped out of his skin. ‘It spoke!’

  The goose regarded him disdainfully.

  ‘This,’ said Dunlin. ‘Is The Monogoose. One of the most powerful beings of all time.’

  ‘There’s always One Monogoose,’ said Magor.

  It padded on webbed feet to Saker and pecked experimentally at its reflection in his highly-polished leg armour.

  ‘I’m delighted to meet you,’ he told it.

  The goose tipped its head and observed him beadily. ‘Well, you haven’t answered my ques
tion.’

  ‘I want a more efficient and frequent means of communication between the Empire and the Shift, so Jant doesn’t have to keep pumping that vile drug into his veins.’

  ‘Chance would be a fine thing,’ I said.

  ‘Tern hates it,’ he said. ‘And so do I. San should realise it’s improvident and I think you’ll thank me, because it causes you no end of grief.’

  Dunlin glanced at the goose. The goose returned to nibbling Saker’s cuisses, and said, ‘Dunlin, give them some Verms.’

  The old king of Awia beckoned us to his map and we gathered around the three-dimensional edifice. I stood near part of the Epsilon badlands where the Igigi originate, and some Musussu – sinuous dragons with long legs, single horns and a bad case of religion. All the names on the map were in different handwriting, various alphabets, bizarre symbols. Thousands of hands (claws and paws) had contributed to it. And beside every label, sat a Vermiform worm.

  Dunlin hovered his finger over the thin, pink worm on the dot representing Epsilon. It stretched, hooked itself over his knuckle, and inched energetically onto his palm.

  He said, ‘Saker, the Vermiform has worms in all these worlds, observing constantly. They bring me news, help me organise. It has some in your world too, right now – in Micawater, in Tanager, in the Castle’s Berm Lawns. It’s my messenger.’

  ‘I thought I was your messenger,’ I said.

  ‘Jant, you can’t be everywhere. The Vermiform is everywhere. If you can communicate with it, you can speak to me.’

  Saker said, ‘Can they tell us where the primary Insect tunnels are? The ones leading from here? So I can block them and we don’t get re-infested?’

  ‘If it can survive Insects long enough, you might convince it to explore Lowespass.’

  ‘I want to reach Murrelet. We were practically at Mistral’s Dip when Thunder botched our advance. If I can prevent bugs Shifting in, Eleonora and I, and Cyan, can reach the ruined city!’

  ‘Are you closing on Murrelet?’ said Dunlin.

  ‘Yes. We were just south of Quartforche.’

  Dunlin raised his eyebrows. ‘Then you have advanced.’

  ‘I want Murrelet back. I want to run the road through Quartforche the way it used to be. Think what it means for the Castle to reclaim it … and, besides, my family originated there. I want to walk in that ruined palace, with Eleonora. I want to dance with her in its hall. Wouldn’t you? Dunlin, the more you help us, the more we’ll add vital detail to your map. Do other worlds adjoin us? Can we chart Insect passages themselves?’

  Dunlin indicated the Fourlands on the edge of their nest. The north of our continent disappeared into it, surrounded by Epsilon and Osseous through which marched the front of their unstoppable advance. Sure enough, there was a worm coiled on the symbol for the Castle. Dunlin addressed the one in his palm: ‘Vermiform, can we have some more?’

  A pause. Then, behind us, the pitch erupted. Soil and sawdust surged up – a trunk of intertwined worms cannoned out of the ground, flinging earth, stones and bits of Insect all over the spectators, who started bawling. It rocketed to the height of our box, tapered to a point and bent towards us, its fleshy surface bulging in ridges. It sculpted itself – a seething woman’s face emerged. Its eyes flicked open, its floating hair snaked.

  The column filled the whole pitch, swelled to breasts, waist and hips, widened and flattened to the shape of a dress fishtailing out to a mass of worms.

  She leant towards us – her face blocked the audience, who were in screaming disarray.

  ‘Kiss me,’ she said.

  Dunlin laughed. Saker was staring with a half-smile, forcing himself to feel entertained, rather than backing off in horror. She threw a tentacle between them and wrapped it twice round my waist. I pulled against it, but she wrenched me forward and her face flowed into the box.

  The worms of her face moved against each other. Her mouth yawned wide and I saw her tongue made of woven worms. She stank of damp soil, carrion so old it’s merging into pungent humus.

  Thousands of tendrils wound me in a total caress, stroking my body – thighs, bottom, wings, throat – lifted me off my feet. Terrified, I struggled. I snatched a breath, then her face poured forward onto mine – her hair whipped over and tangled – I felt her forehead flowing around my temples, hooding me.

  My skin swarmed with worms. Her tongue forced into my mouth – forked and wound around my tongue. She tasted of earth and skin.

  I tried to spit. I tried to claw them. She pinned my wrists – kept my jaw open. And she was entwining my tongue, dividing into many tentacles and caressing the roof of my mouth, pulsing against my teeth, twisting down my throat.

  I fought, suffocating. Worms flowed into my shirt and trousers, pressing my belly button, my nipples, my feather tracts. They squeezed tense with incredible pressure, working themselves tighter and tighter, suddenly clenched unbearably rigid then gave a shudder and sigh, and relaxed. They fell away from me into a loose pool on the floor.

  Worms made their way down my chest and between my feathers, out of my bum crack and over my balls, down my thigh and dropped out of my trouser leg. Her disconnected tongue was still crawling around inside my mouth. I spat it onto my palm – breathed in the thankful air!

  ‘Rapist!’ I panted.

  A satiated ripple passed over the surface of her pool. She cackled. Then she gathered herself, sucked all her worms together into a tendril as thick as a tree trunk. It rose up, and she said, ‘Care for them, won’t you?’ The tentacle whipped out of the box, spiralled down into the soil and disappeared.

  Saker was watching me, both shaken and hopeful, and he was growing transparent. I could see the edge of the box through him. I looked down, and glimpsed the floor through my boots. I was fading out, too, but not as fast.

  ‘You’re getting all hazy!’ he said.

  ‘No, you’re the one who’s going – back to Wrought. Look!’ I pointed to his hand; he held it up and we saw the bones and blood vessels within.

  ‘You’re going home,’ said Dunlin.

  ‘Remember our deal! On your honour as Rachiswater?’

  ‘Not Rachiswater. As the leader of the worlds against the Insects.’

  Saker addressed the Equinne with desperate urgency. ‘Are you Magor? Jant said you use rifles? If you make the bullet with ridges they grip the rifling. Did you know that? Do you know ladder sights?’

  ‘No! Do you know breech loading?’

  They started shouting all sorts of ballistics tips urgently at each other, but his voice grew fainter and now he was fading. He smacked his hands down in frustration, realised it was futile, gave a smile of capitulation, bowed to Dunlin – and was gone.

  ‘That wasn’t a long trip,’ Dunlin said.

  ‘He was only playing the Circle Sonata. He didn’t shoot an overdose.’

  ‘Never, ever let him touch cat, Jant.’

  ‘No, of course.’

  ‘Not until he’s at death’s door, and then you can lead him through.’

  The worms that been the Vermiform’s tongue had curled up in my palm. My hand was so translucent they seemed to be hovering in mid-air. Dunlin’s kindly face, Magor’s surprised, vexed expression, the mystery goose and the silent newt were greying out.

  ‘What is that Monogoose?’ I said.

  ‘It’s an immortal being. It’s been alive for longer than any of us. It’s even older than San … and the Vermiform. If it gets killed – if someone kills it – then somewhere in the universe a new Monogoose hatches instantly, possessing all its memories and personality intact.’

  ‘There’s only ever one Monogoose,’ said Magor.

  ‘You wouldn’t believe its wisdom. It’s the most sagacious, experienced person …’

  ‘But still a goose?’

  ‘Don’t be too enlightened all at once,’ said the goose.

  Down on the pitch Tine were bringing refreshments onto the piles of soil – whole Fajita Trees, marzipandas, and tea dragons on silver c
hains, steaming aromatically.

  I reached out a finger and stirred the air, and the whole arena started to spiral round and round, into a whirlpool around my finger and creased up, pulling away at the edges into long folds revealing, behind it, the dark hall of Wrought.

  I wound it onto my finger … and in Wrought I woke.

  CHAPTER 15

  It begins

  I jolted awake. I was lolling backwards, the half-back of the chair pressing my spine. In one hand, my curl of fingers still grasped the syringe. My other palm was cupped and held the Vermiform worms. Vermiform worms. Oh, shit. They crawled up my arm and into my top pocket.

  I pulled myself upright. As I did so a mighty yellow glow lit up the windows and I suddenly saw all the night trees bordering the lawn.

  What was that? I tottered to the window, past Saker who was slumped unconscious on the piano. A roar rolled against the windowpanes. An explosion! A tremendous explosion, out towards the coast.

  I stared. Another fireball bloomed, some distance to the west. It uplit the bases of the clouds, lit the gardens for an instant in sickly amber bright as day. Several small flashes followed, and a few seconds later the thunder of them all combined rumbled the length of the gardens and crashed against the house.

  Above, in the Steward’s room, hasty voices. Raggiana slammed his bedroom door.

  A third explosion, nearer, burst like a gigantic sun behind Wrought wood, and all the panes in the window cracked simultaneously.

  ‘Out!’ I yelled. ‘Raggy! Get everyone out! Saker?’ I shook him.

  He groaned and stirred.

  ‘Wake up!’

  He swatted me.

  ‘We’ve got to get out!’ I tried to drag him. Instinctively he reached for Swallow’s manuscript, staggered to his feet and followed me. As we passed the table he grabbed his bow and quiver, and shoved in the manuscript. I pulled him after me out of the great hall and down the steps to the chill night air.

  Raggiana took up the shout. ‘Out! Everybody out!’ Tern’s staff were spilling, half-dressed, out of the North and kitchen wings, and stopping to stare at the three infernos blazing on the horizon.

  ‘Keep going! Further!’ I yelled at them. ‘Down to the woods!’

 

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