Wintercraft: Blackwatch

by Jenna Burtenshaw

  ‘Where are you going?’ asked Edgar. ‘Do we have a plan?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Kate. ‘We climb.’

  She walked steadily, trying not to draw attention to herself, until she found a house in the wall that looked old and abandoned. Parts of its roof had fallen in, but she found what she was looking for inside. A fireplace, dead and cold.

  ‘This cannot end well,’ said Edgar.

  ‘Your plan to hide in a barrow worked, so why shouldn’t mine?’ asked Kate, already knotting her hair back and leaning in to peer up the exposed chimney, which looked narrower than she had expected. ‘It seems clear enough,’ she said. ‘You’ll have to leave your backpack behind.’

  Sharp orders were shouted outside. People were being told to open their doors and co-operate fully with the Blackwatch’s search.

  ‘Chimney it is then,’ said Edgar, already wriggling out of the straps and hiding the bag behind an old armchair.

  Kate ducked beneath the mantelpiece, slid her arms into the chimney and stood up inside it, feeling around for something to hold on to. Cool air sank down against her face and her fingers found the edge of a thin horizontal bar, the first of what looked like a full line of them that had been put there for sweeps to use. ‘I think it widens further up,’ she said. ‘There’s a ladder on the side.’

  Kate reached up as high as she could and lifted her foot up on to the first rung. Climbing was easy enough once she got started. After she had passed the thin neck of the chimney shaft the wall sloped along to the right and opened out into a wider space where other chimneys linked with the main shaft. It was not as restrictive as she had first feared. The worst part was the soot. It coated everything and clung to her clothes and skin as she climbed, stirring up blackness in the filthy air. Edgar grumbled beneath her as her feet sent drifts of it scattering down on to his head.

  The higher they went the more chimneys joined with the one they were in, and threads of smoke trickled out of some of the side shafts they passed. The fires at their bases must only have been smouldering but Kate tried not to breathe in case the smoke caught in her throat and her coughing gave them away. She concentrated on getting to the top. She couldn’t wait to reach fresh air again and climb out into a city topped by a blanket of stars. The scratching sounds of fires being lit travelled along the side shafts, and half-caught conversations echoed from the walls. Two raised voices sounded close by, and when Kate heard them she stopped, trying not to make a noise.

  Edgar looked up to see what was going on. Neither of them could see anything in the black, but the women’s voices were clear enough.

  ‘I’m telling ya, I heard somethin’ in the walls!’

  ‘Don’t go sayin’ things like that. Do you want the Blackwatch to come up here and start beatin’ down my door?’

  ‘What if it’s her? What’s her name . . . Winters. What if we’re the ones who find her?’

  ‘There’s nothing there. Just leave it. I don’t think we should—Get your head out of the fireplace!’

  Kate and Edgar froze. Wherever the woman was, there was no way she could see them. More smoke wisped up around them. Kate pressed her face to the arm of her coat to filter the air, but Edgar was not so quick. His nose burned, his eyes streamed. Kate heard him try to sniff quietly, but it only made things worse. Edgar heaved in a deep breath – tried to hold it back – but then the walls exploded with the sound of a loud, powerful sneeze.

  ‘There is someone in there! Quick! Call someone!’

  ‘Wait,’ said the second woman. ‘Think about this. If it is the girl, we can get a lot more by handing her over to the wardens. The Blackwatch aren’t offering much, are they? We both know where the chimney goes. Maybe we can catch her ourselves.’

  ‘All right. I’ll light the fire. You head up a few levels. Maybe we can smoke her out!’

  Kate did not care how much noise she made after that. She clambered up the rungs as fast as she dared and followed the shaft along two more steep slopes. Already-burning fires spewed heat into the chimney as she passed and the air filled with thick swathes of choking smoke. She had to stop, not daring to climb any further. Her eyes stung and her throat burned. There was no way they were going to make it to the surface through that. Edgar coughed somewhere beneath her, and more smoke billowed up from below.

  ‘We have to get out,’ said Kate. ‘Go down again. We need to look for an empty shaft.’

  Edgar held his breath and ducked down into the smoke. Kate heard a thud as she followed him back down a dozen rungs and she almost fell from the ladder in fright when Edgar’s filthy hand reached out from a hole right beside her face.

  ‘In here,’ he said.

  It was much harder climbing down a sloping ladder than it was climbing up. The air in Edgar’s shaft was cleaner and cooler. No fire was burning at the end of it and the chimney was wide at the bottom, opening out on to a hearth far larger than the one they had climbed into a few floors below. Edgar hesitated just above the opening, and Kate looked down past him, seeing the glow of candlelight spreading in from the room beyond. She guessed what he was thinking. The room was not empty. She could not hear any voices, but that candle had been lit for a reason.

  The walls echoed as a knock rattled the front door. Bootsteps scuffed over the floor, a lock clicked, and someone charged inside.

  ‘I need to use the fireplace!’ It was the same woman they had heard a few chimneys away, except now she was out of breath from running up many flights of stairs.

  ‘Use it?’ said a man’s voice. ‘What for?’

  ‘That girl everyone’s looking for. I think she’s up there. If I can climb into the chimney and take a look . . .’

  ‘I can’t let you do that.’

  Smoke prickled Kate’s nose as a plume of it curled in from the main shaft.

  ‘Look, you can hand her over with us if you want,’ said the woman. ‘We’ll take her to the wardens, not those foreigners downstairs. We can trade her in and finally get out of here. See some sun!’

  ‘My mistress will return once she has dealt with the visitors. She will not appreciate returning home to the sight of your buttocks poking down out of her chimney, will she?’

  The woman made an impatient noise, too distracted to be insulted. ‘Then take a look for yourself. Tell me if you can hear someone moving around up there.’

  Edgar tapped on Kate’s ankle, warning her to move upwards, but the smoke was too thick. If they stayed where they were they would be seen and if they moved they would suffocate. Edgar’s tapping became more insistent but Kate held on tight as something moved in the grate beneath them and a head came into sight.

  ‘What can you see?’ asked the woman.

  The head turned and a man’s face looked up at them in disbelief.

  ‘Well?’

  The man kept staring. ‘Nothing,’ he said carefully. ‘Lots of muck.’

  ‘Can you hear anything?’

  ‘Er . . . no. There’s no sign of anything up here.’ The man’s head disappeared and Edgar looked up at Kate, clearly as shocked as she was. ‘I’m afraid you are hearing things, friend.’

  ‘It’d be some find though, wouldn’t it?’ said the woman, sounding disappointed. ‘A free ticket to the outside world at last.’

  ‘That is what the wardens want you to believe. They’d have your head on a traitor’s pole the moment you handed her over. Too risky, I’d say. It’s better forgotten.’

  The voices moved away. The door closed and Edgar whispered quietly. ‘He saw us. What do we do now? Climb down?’

  ‘We can’t go anywhere else,’ said Kate. ‘Why didn’t he give us away?’

  Before Edgar could answer, the man’s face reappeared above the grate. They both heard the scratch of a match and he held the flame out beside him.

  ‘You might as well come down,’ he said, his voice darker than before. ‘You have nowhere to go. The Blackwatch have made sure of that. They are lighting all the fires, and I can have this one hot and blazin
g in a few seconds, so I suggest you do as I say.’

  The flame burned down to the man’s fingertips as he watched them both. When they didn’t move, he let the match fall. The flame fizzled and caught upon a knot of twisted bark.

  ‘All right! We’re coming!’ said Edgar, dropping down into the grate and stamping out the flame. Kate was next, and when the two of them stood side by side within that room they both felt like scruffy servants who had wandered into a place they did not belong.

  The fireplace that had appeared huge from above was perfectly in proportion to the room it served. Compared to other places Kate and Edgar had seen in the City Below, that one room was more luxurious than anything they had come to expect. It was a bedroom, with a four-poster bed carved beautifully from old wood and covered in layers of intricately embroidered blankets that must have taken months to make. There were coloured candles lit in glass holders all round the walls and large wardrobes locked with black keys, one of which had a beautiful red dress hanging on a hook beside it. There had been no hint of such splendour from what they had seen of the cavern outside, and Edgar was the first to ask what both of them were thinking.

  ‘Who lives here?’ he said.

  ‘The leader of this community,’ said the man. ‘A woman I have called my mistress for too long.’ He was staring at Kate as if she was a work of art, not a soot-covered girl who was walking dirt all over the floor. ‘But that does not matter now.’

  ‘Why not?’ asked Kate.

  The man walked over to a small open window in the wall, unlooped a circular pendant from round his neck and held it out as far as he could, moving it so light flickered from its crystal face.

  ‘What are you doing?’ demanded Edgar.

  ‘One of the many tasks I was sent here to perform. Please, make yourselves comfortable. We will not have to wait long.’

  Kate did not like the expression on the man’s face. It was a look of secret triumph and it made her uncomfortable.

  ‘We’re sorry about the mess on your floor,’ she said, tugging Edgar’s sleeve and leading him towards the door. ‘We appreciate your not turning us in, but we’re not who you think we are. We’re just passing through, aren’t we?’ She nudged Edgar’s arm.

  ‘Yes. Er . . . thanks for that,’ he said. ‘Bye then.’

  The man watched them all the way to the door. Kate half expected him to try to block their way, but there was no need. The door was locked.

  ‘I find it is always best to be prepared,’ he said, drawing a long blade from a sheath hidden within his clothes. ‘For the past year I have acted as a servant to the lady of this cavern, but my true purpose here is far greater. I have seen your face, girl. I know who you are. You are not going anywhere.’

  ‘Yes, we are,’ said Edgar, rattling the door handle. ‘You’d better come over here and unlock this door right now, before things turn nasty.’

  ‘Do you think I am afraid of a worm like you?’ said the man. ‘If your face was not also known to me, you would be dead already.’

  ‘Well, that’s good to know,’ said Edgar. ‘Now, are you going to open this door?’

  ‘In my own time. Once my countrymen arrive.’

  ‘You’re with them,’ said Kate, suddenly realising how much danger she and Edgar were in. ‘The Blackwatch. You’re one of them, aren’t you?’

  ‘That is very true,’ said the man. ‘We have been looking for you.’

  ‘Kate, head for the window,’ said Edgar. ‘I’ve got this.’

  ‘No, there’s no point. Who knows how many agents they have out there?’

  ‘We still have to try.’

  ‘No,’ said the man. ‘You don’t. It is too late for that.’

  Shadows moved along the pathway outside and the silhouettes of a group of men passed across the window. One of them already had the key. The door opened slowly, pushed open by the point of a long blade, and the Blackwatch’s leader stepped inside. Kate backed towards the bed and Edgar stood between her and the advancing men. There was nothing either of them could do. The agent’s eyes were vicious, his teeth bared in a wolfish smile.

  ‘The hunt is over,’ he said. ‘Your lives are mine now.’

  15

  The Price

  Dalliah waited for Silas’s answer. There was no real choice to make, and he knew it. Even there on the Continent, Dalliah was clearly Skilled enough to work the veil in ways he had never seen. She could easily have used that ability against him to get what she wanted, so the only real question was why she had even asked him at all.

  Even if the veil was falling, there was no telling what kind of damage interfering with it could do, and there was no guarantee that Dalliah’s plan would even work. All she had was a theory, yet she seemed willing to gamble the entire balance of life and death upon a plan whose best outcome would only benefit two living souls. Silas could not deny the reward was tempting. To regain his spirit after so long was something he would do almost anything to achieve. Now was the moment for him to take a gamble. He had to buy himself more time.

  ‘I will help you,’ he said finally, all too aware of what giving his word to Dalliah could mean. ‘But he should have no part in this.’

  ‘Bandermain’s presence here is not open for negotiation,’ said Dalliah. ‘He will stay because I demand it.’

  ‘Why? What use can he be to us?’

  ‘The arrangement we have has not yet been fulfilled. He knows where his loyalties lie.’

  Bandermain’s eyes were heavy and a vein in his forehead pulsed noticeably beneath his skin. His eyebrows knitted together as he rolled his shoulders back, trying to make himself appear strong and healthy.

  ‘Celador?’ Silas said, as Bandermain’s eyes met his with a feral look. ‘How long have you been like this?’

  ‘Not all of us are as blessed as you,’ said Bandermain. There was venom in his voice, and he was about to say something else when the words were lost in a sudden flurry of racking coughs. Flecks of blood speckled his lips and he wiped them away with the back of his hand.

  ‘The details are unimportant,’ said Dalliah, turning away. ‘Suffice to say, Officer Bandermain requires my assistance in order to maintain his health and in return he has pledged the services of himself and his men to our cause. The Continental leaders have given the Blackwatch orders to infiltrate Albion and cripple the High Council. I have no interest in getting in their way. They will continue to follow those orders. All I ask is that they follow a few of mine at the same time.’

  ‘Whatever you have done for him does not seem to be working,’ said Silas.

  ‘His health is not your concern,’ said Dalliah. ‘He has done everything I have asked, and at the end of all this he shall receive his reward.’

  Bandermain began to speak, but he coughed again, trying and failing to hold back the spasms that strained his lungs, forcing his fingers to claw at the cupboard beside him. As one of the Skilled, Dalliah could have taken his pain away in moments, but instead she just watched him impassively.

  ‘This is how you treat your allies?’ asked Silas.

  ‘Bandermain knew what to expect,’ said Dalliah. ‘His sickness must sometimes be allowed to carry him close to death if he is to be of any use to me.’

  ‘And he agreed to this?’

  Bandermain had given up trying to look well and was concentrating solely upon breathing instead.

  ‘He has proved himself strong enough for what I require,’ said Dalliah. ‘Every fifth day he must allow himself to move close to death. He has endured the experience many times. He will survive long enough to see this through.’

  ‘He is certainly dying,’ said Silas. ‘Any fool could see that.’

  ‘I’m not . . . dead . . . yet,’ said Bandermain, looking up at him.

  Silas smiled coldly. ‘Entertaining as it would be to watch you dance with death, I could gladly save you the suffering and send you on your way.’

  ‘You . . . would not . . . understand,’ said Bandermain. ‘I
do . . . what is necessary.’

  Dalliah placed a hand on Bandermain’s shoulder. At first Silas thought she was going to heal him, or at least ease his suffering, but her touch was not a caring one. It was one of ownership. If anything, Bandermain looked worse the longer she stood with him, as if she were somehow actively taking his life away from him. Silas did not know how that could be possible. He had never heard of anyone who was capable of such a thing.

  Bandermain noticeably weakened before Silas’s eyes, but he faced the experience with a soldier’s steadfast will. Silas was intrigued that he could allow his soul and his body to be abused in such a way. Whatever reward Dalliah had promised him, it was worth enduring near-death to possess.