The veil swept icily across the room, allowing Silas to see the energies of life carried deep within the people around him as if a filter had been placed across his eyes. Normally, the spirit carried in a person’s body was visible as a bright all-encompassing glow that spread from the core of their body into a pale aura that misted around them. Dalliah’s spirit was very different. She barely carried any light at all, only a tiny speck of white focused in the very centre of her chest, offering proof at least that she truly did possess a broken soul. But Bandermain’s energy was the biggest surprise.
Instead of the soft light that normally surrounded the living, Bandermain’s body was shrouded in a sickly glow. His spirit was there, but it was pulsing weakly, trying to pull away from a body that could no longer support it within the living world. Only Silas’s veil-sight could reveal the truth. Bandermain’s body was weakened to the point of collapse, his spirit eager and ready to pass into death. With energies like that, he should already have been dead, yet on the surface he still looked relatively well.
Bandermain was certainly a curiosity, but Silas turned his attention away from him and concentrated upon searching for Kate instead. He did not need to look very far.
The spirit of a living Walker who had not been trained to control her ability acted like a powerful magnet within the veil, attracting everything else towards it and shining brightly like a blazing light. The physical distance between them made no difference. The veil did not recognise distance or time; everything within it was connected. When Silas focused upon Kate, the veil revealed her to him.
Kate was barely alive, her body huddled limply inside an empty tomb of stone. Seeing her there, so close to death, sent a pang of guilt coursing through his soul. He had warned her to leave the city. When he left her behind he had trusted she would be protected. She was not supposed to be there. Not like that. She was supposed to be safe.
Aware of Dalliah’s presence close by, Silas could not afford to reveal his fears for the girl. He focused all his concentration upon finding her instead. That tomb could have been anywhere within the maze of Fume’s ancient underground caverns. There was no way to tell where.
Dalliah’s spirit moved beside him, joining him in the veil.
‘The Skilled turned against her, just as you warned her they would,’ she said. ‘They tried to kill her. She and the boy barely escaped. Now she is overwhelmed. The only knowledge she has of the veil is that which you gave her, and it was slim at best. She cannot control her connection to it, and if she does not gain control soon the veil will claim her, have no doubt of that. Even death will not find her spirit if it wanders too far, and if she survives the Skilled will still find her and finish her. You left Kate to the mercy of the wolves, Silas. This is the consequence of what you have done.’
There were many things in Silas’s life that he had reason to regret, but at that moment he regretted nothing more than riding his stolen horse out of Fume knowing that Kate would be hunted. Knowing that there were precious few people she could trust. He had been alone for too long. He had let his own fears cloud his judgement. Kate had helped him when every other living soul feared him, and he had abandoned her.
‘Walkers have lived in Fume for centuries,’ he said. ‘None of them were affected in this way.’
‘That is because none of them lived in times like these,’ said Dalliah. ‘Something has changed. The veil is weakening. The barrier between this world and the next is coming to an end.’
‘That is impossible. The veil cannot fall.’
‘Everything dies,’ said Dalliah. ‘This world will die one day. Even we, eventually, will cease to live, though it may not be the form of death that we expect. All it takes is the right conditions. The correct sequence of events. Five hundred years ago, the bonemen made a mistake. They experimented with Wintercraft and changed the course of history. They were the ones who first tore the veil with their experiments upon the dead and the dying. They were ignorant. None of them knew what they were doing. History does not record the darker aspects of their work, but I was there. I saw the damage they caused with my own eyes. It took great sacrifices to repair what they had broken. They suffered for their mistakes and it was well deserved.’
Silas caught the bitterness in Dalliah’s voice when she spoke about the bonemen, and what was left of her spirit flared in anger at the memories her time with them had left behind. He was willing to assume that whatever ‘sacrifice’ the bonemen had made, she had been a part of it. She had been with them when they disappeared from history and it had left a mark upon her. He could not tell if it was rage or fear, but it was there.
‘What has that got to do with Kate?’ he asked.
‘When the bonemen tore the veil open, Walkers helped them to seal it again. The veil had threatened to overtake all of Albion, exposing the living to the half-life and blending the two realms into one. Albion was not ready for that, but our attempt to close the tear was only ever meant to be a temporary solution. As soon as the tear was brought back under control and the living world was separated from the veil once again, the seal we had created started to degrade. In those times, five hundred years was almost an eternity. The bonemen assumed that those left behind would have plenty of time to repair the breach fully before it ever became a threat to the living world again, but the bonemen do not exist any more – the High Council saw to that – and no one has risen to take their place. The Walkers are dead and the Skilled have ignored the threat of the veil for generations. They did not carry on the bonemen’s work. Recently, one or two of them have dabbled with the remains of the dead, attempting to rediscover and understand the old ways, but it is too late. The Walkers knew that this was coming. They saw the threat from the very beginning, and now there are only two of us left. Me and the girl. The Winters family were always the best of us. It does not surprise me that their descendants were the only ones to survive.’
‘If you are what you say you are, why do you need her?’ asked Silas. ‘What does she have that a Walker who has lived for five centuries does not?’
‘She possesses something both you and I have lost,’ said Dalliah. ‘The power of a soul can be almost infinite when it is used the right way. We may have lost ours, but Kate Winters’s spirit carries all the potential of her parents’ family lines focused into one young life. The book of Wintercraft teaches the Skilled how to master their spirit; to use its energy as fuel to do what ordinary people cannot do. With the right guidance, Kate could bring the restless dead down upon this world with the force of her will alone. You and I are echoes of the souls we used to be, Silas. We are revenants: neither truly dead nor truly living. We belong nowhere and trust no one. Only we know what it is like to suffer for the mistakes of the past. Kate has not suffered as we have. Her spirit is still intact. She is the only one who can influence a falling veil now.’
Silas could see Kate’s spirit struggling to reconnect with her physical body and knew there was nothing he could do. He could sense her fear, her confusion and an emptiness that was growing slowly inside her. She felt betrayed. When Silas had first met her, Kate’s mind had been clear. Her life had been simple and happy. Now she was lost. The only thing keeping her connected to the living world was the presence of a second soul who he had not noticed before. Someone was right beside Kate; someone who had no connection to the veil at all, holding her hand as her spirit wound itself tightly around his, using him to anchor her to the world. It was a young soul, carrying with it the weight of a tormented past. It had to be Kate’s stubborn friend, Edgar Rill. At the very least, she was not alone.
‘If you need Kate’s help to repair the veil, why didn’t you just ask her?’ said Silas, hoping to draw Dalliah’s attention away from the girl. ‘Why involve the Blackwatch at all? You will only drive her away if your men try to hunt her.’
Dalliah pulled her consciousness back from the veil. Silas let his mind return to the painted room and Bandermain stared at them both in surprise as Dalliah began to
speak.
‘There is a sickness spreading across Albion, allowing ordinary people to witness aspects of the half-life,’ she said. ‘People have begun to see phantoms and spirits. Many believe they are going mad and of all of them the Skilled will soon be affected the worst. I have seen this happen before. As the veil collapses and spreads, the assault of so many lost souls upon their senses will prove too much. Many Skilled died when the veil fell the first time, and more will die this time.’
‘You did not answer my question,’ said Silas.
‘Because it is based upon an assumption,’ said Dalliah. ‘We were both cursed with this broken life. The veil is our prison, but when it falls everything will change. The protections the first Walkers put in place will collapse any day now, allowing the living world and the half-life to exist as one. Our spirits are both bound to the half-life, and when it falls they will return to us. We will be healed, and our lives will be our own. I do not want to repair the veil. I intend to help it on its way.’
‘How? That cannot be possible.’
‘If we release Kate Winters’s spirit in the right place at the right time, we can control the tear within the veil. We can channel the veil through her, focusing everything upon one single point. We can be present at the exact epicentre of the event that will change the world. Every lost soul will be drawn to Kate before the veil spreads fully across the world. Our spirits will be there for us to claim!’
‘ “Release her spirit”?’ Silas knew too well what that meant. ‘You intend to kill her.’
‘The veil will fall, regardless of anything you or I can do,’ said Dalliah. ‘It is too late to save it now. This way, we can use it to our advantage. We can take back what was stolen from us.’
Silas saw the spark of excitement in Dalliah’s eyes and recognised her desperate need from dark times he had known in his own life. She was talking about changing the entire course of future history, allowing ordinary people to see into a world that most of them did not believe even existed. It would cause panic and chaos. Nothing would ever be the same if the veil came down. It would be the end of life as everyone knew it. The new age would not be one of science, peace or exploration. It would be one of fear, and Dalliah was ready to murder an innocent girl to make it happen.
Bandermain did not look at all surprised by what she was proposing. Perhaps he did not fully understand what could come of countless shades being free to sweep across the world, visible to every living eye, able to follow, influence and speak to the living. Dalliah was right. Everything would change.
The situation was worse than Silas could ever have imagined. He had travelled to the Continent for answers and had walked instead into the arms of a nightmare. The veil was falling, the High Council had a Continental spy in their midst, and the woman he had hoped might become an ally was intent upon changing the world for the worse, all for the sake of two broken souls.
Bandermain watched Silas closely, waiting for him to say something. Whatever arrangement Dalliah had made with him had to have something to do with his illness. There had to be a reason why he was still alive, and Dalliah was more than capable of extending a human life if it served her purpose. Until Silas knew more there was no way to guess how far Bandermain would go to honour their bargain.
Dalliah was staring at Silas, smiling as if he were her truest friend. She clearly expected him to see the world the way she did: as something expendable, something that could be crushed on their way to getting what they both wanted at last.
‘I am talking about freedom,’ she said quietly. ‘Death will accept us when the time comes. We can regain our souls and we will be whole again. Surely that is worth the life of one young girl, Silas. Don’t you agree?’
13
The World Beneath
Kate could see Edgar. She could hear him talking to her in the dark, but she could not answer him. He looked like a reflection of himself cast in a pool of water; ghostly, and not quite real. She could feel the touch of his hand on hers and she focused upon it, trying to break out of the veil and back into her life, but nothing she did made any difference.
Kate felt as if she was half awake, being pulled to the threshold of many different dreams. There was no order to it, and no reason for her to be connecting with the veil there at all. She concentrated upon her own world and felt the presence of the Skilled in the Shadowmarket, a group of them, each one looking into the veil, trying to find her. She closed her mind to them, but they were too close. Nothing could hide within the veil. They were coming.
Edgar’s face moved back in front of her. He kept looking at the door. He knew they were coming too. ‘Kate,’ he whispered. ‘I know this isn’t a good time, but I have an idea.’ He moved away, letting go of her hand, and Kate felt her spirit’s link to him break. It felt as if all the air had been pressed from her lungs at once and the shock of the separation jolted her spirit back into life.
Kate felt a rush of blood returning to her fingertips. Her body breathed again and her fingers reached out for Edgar as he went to open the door, holding him back. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked.
‘Welcome back,’ said Edgar, a nervous grin spreading across his face. ‘Do me a favour. Never do that again. I didn’t know if I had to do something, or just leave you to it. We’ve got trouble outside.’
Kate did not wait for her body to settle again. She crawled to the door with Edgar and he opened it just enough for them both to see down on to the market floor below. She must have been inside the veil for a long time because the fires in the ceiling troughs had burned down to a faint glow and lanterns flickered across the cavern as people walked between the market stalls. There were fewer down there than there had been earlier and every one of them was busy carrying, lifting and moving about.
The clusters of stalls were being folded and packed until they looked more like piles of huge wooden boxes than counters and shelves, and the spaces in between the stalls were filled with people pushing small handbarrows or pulling wide carts, clearing the way ahead of them with shouts and whistles. Everyone seemed to have lost interest in Baltin and his men. Kate could not see any of them at first, until Edgar pointed to a group standing separately from the rest. They were the only ones who were standing still, and they had gathered in the light of a candle lantern held by the gatekeeper Kate and Edgar had met on their way in.
‘They’re packing up,’ said Edgar. ‘It looks as if everyone locks their stock away at night, but that old guy could mean trouble. I heard him make an announcement a few minutes ago. Everyone who leaves the market tonight has to give their names and be counted out. I think Baltin’s told him about us. They’ll be waiting for us at the exits, and if we don’t leave they’ll know we’re still in here. The Skilled will have all night to find us if the gatekeeper stays here with them.’
‘Baltin’s not going to give up, is he?’
‘Probably not. But I have an idea. Down there.’ Edgar pointed to a large stall that sold well-made woollen rugs and shawls. The woman who owned it was loading her most valuable items into a handbarrow and padlocking large wooden panels into place around the sides, making sure the rest of her goods were locked up tight. ‘We are going to stow away in one of those barrows,’ he said.
Kate looked down at the woman, who was having enough trouble lifting a barrow full of rugs, never mind one with two people hiding in it. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’
‘We hide in one of the barrows and let the traders roll us out of here. Baltin and the Skilled will think we’re still hiding in here somewhere and they’ll waste a night searching an empty cavern, giving us a chance to get a head start. It’s perfect. Tell me what possible flaw there could be in that plan.’
‘Let’s think . . . it’s crazy, it will never work and it’s going to get us both caught,’ said Kate. ‘We’ll be seen before we’re even down the ladder.’
‘Not if we’re careful,’ said Edgar. ‘That’s what I was looking at. See? This ledge we’re on leads right
along the side of the cavern. Everyone’s heading in that direction. There must be a way out over there. If we stay on the ledge in the dark, we can get closer to the exit, climb down and hide in a barrow. No one will see us. And even if they did, I don’t think they’d say anything. They’ll just think they’re seeing shades again, and they won’t want anyone to think they have the sickness after those others got carted off, will they?’
‘What about the Skilled?’ asked Kate. ‘There are shades in here. What if they use the veil to find us?’
‘I don’t think the shades are being too helpful,’ said Edgar. ‘Otherwise they would have found us by now, wouldn’t they? And if anyone sees us once we’re down there, we can move swiftly on to my second brilliant plan. Head for the exit and leg it.’
‘All right,’ said Kate. ‘Let’s keep moving.’
Edgar felt his way out of the door and Kate followed him on to the narrow path where she quickly took the lead, picking her way carefully along the ledge towards the way out. The traders were too busy going about their business to care about anyone who might be walking above them. There were last-minute deals to be made and trading to be done with late customers who refused to stop bartering until the last item was packed away.
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