The Key to Starveldt

by Foz Meadows

  ‘Tipster’s hotline,’ said Evan, but the summoner shook her head.

  ‘Think about it. Solace saw him in a vision, but that was hours ago, and maybe not even in real time. For all we know, he’s long gone. And does anyone actually know his full name? His real first name, even?’

  Silence met this remark. Solace felt an absurd stab of guilt. Why had she never thought to ask? But then, up until Liluye’s abrupt naming of Jess and Paige, she hadn’t known anyone else’s proper name, either – only that Manx was really Matthew.

  At their expressions, Electra shrugged. ‘See? Unless we physically go there and turn him in, all we could give them is a description, and even if they still found the right man, he’d have to confess for them to get a conviction. We all lived at the warehouse, but our names weren’t on any lease, and Glide wasn’t there the night we spoke to the police. I don’t think we even mentioned that he was missing, because we already knew he wasn’t inside when the fire started. We still thought he was innocent.’

  ‘That night was so bad,’ Jess said. Everyone looked at her. The seer’s eyes were distant. ‘They wanted to know who we were, if we lived there, but I could barely think, and if someone contacted our father …’ She stared straight at Evan. ‘I didn’t give them our real names, Ev. I couldn’t. I can’t remember who I said we were.’ She gave a little shudder, and then seemed to come back to herself. ‘I was already lying. I didn’t know everyone’s last name, so I made those up, too. If I hadn’t done, they would never have let us go. They thought we’d stay at the local shelter.’

  ‘You did the right thing,’ said Evan. He came and sat beside Jess, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him, eyes closed. ‘You did the right thing,’ he repeated. ‘Okay?’

  Jess nodded. Evan gave her a squeeze. She laughed and straightened up, bumping his head affectionately with her own. ‘Thanks, little brother.’

  Evan grinned. ‘Hey, don’t mention it.’

  ‘No police, then,’ said Laine. ‘Which means we’re back to inaction.’

  ‘No.’ Solace found everyone staring at her. She couldn’t figure out why, until she realised that it had been she who’d spoken. ‘I mean … I don’t know what I mean. He did terrible things. He betrayed us. But I can’t just leave it there. I have to know. I have to hear him say it.’

  ‘Say what?’ asked Manx.

  ‘That he’s guilty. That he’s sorry. He betrayed us, Manx. He betrayed me. We know he was working for Sanguisidera, but not why. I have to understand why he did it, why he pretended to care.’

  ‘Sharpsoft told you he was being manipulated –’ Jess began, but Manx cut her off with a shake of his head, glancing apologetically at Solace.

  ‘That doesn’t matter. He had a choice. He could’ve told us the truth, or let Tryst and Claire and Phoebe out of the warehouse. But he didn’t. He left them to die. He murdered them. He was a traitor.’

  ‘But he was our traitor,’ Solace said, softly. ‘We can’t just walk away.’

  ‘Says who?’ Manx’s eyes flashed. ‘He chose this, not us. Now he has to live with it.’

  ‘But there’s such a thing as a sadistic choice, or no choice at all,’ Evan countered. ‘Sometimes, it’s like trying to save the Kobayashi Maru. A no-win scenario.’

  Jess stared at her brother, blue eyes flinty. ‘Please tell me you didn’t just make a Star Trek reference.’

  Evan made a show of studying the ceiling, unable to meet his sister’s gaze.

  After a moment of extreme tension, Manx snorted. ‘Besides, Captain Kirk beat the Kobayashi Maru test.’

  ‘Only by cheating!’ Evan bristled. ‘He changed the conditions of the test, which is totally unhelpful. Now, Captain Janeway –’

  ‘Guys!’ Jess banged her fist on the coffee table, making everyone jump. ‘One more reference to the works of Gene Roddenberry, and so help me God I will make you regret it!’

  Manx had the grace to look chastened. Evan pulled a face, turning his eyes to his hands. ‘Yes’m.’

  ‘Good. Now. Reality.’ The seer inhaled sharply. ‘Or at least, what passes for reality around here.’ She turned to Solace. When she spoke again, her voice was gentle. ‘Glide hurt all of us. But if anyone here has the right to know why he did it, it’s you. If you want to question him –’

  ‘– and maybe put the boot in while you’re at it,’ Paige supplied.

  ‘– then I have no objections.’ Jess shot the pixie girl an imperious look, but Paige only grinned like a Cheshire cat. ‘Anyone else?’

  Solace held her breath, but no one spoke. She exhaled slowly, fighting the surge of emotion threatening to block her throat. She was finding it impossible to work out how she actually felt, wracked by nameless surges of doubt and rage. Self-consciously, she ran a hand through her hair.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I know it’s stupid, but I can’t shake the feeling that he’s still at the warehouse. In the vision, it felt like he looked up and knew I was watching, you know? Like he was waiting for me.’

  ‘You don’t think it’s a trap?’ asked Laine. Her blue eyes shone like pale moons, and though her face was resting in its usual impenetrable mask, something in the set of her lips and jaw made Solace again wonder whether the psychic was angry at her about something. She opened her mouth to answer, but to everyone’s surprise, Evan got there first.

  ‘Then I’ll come, too,’ he said. His tone was light, but his expression was serious. ‘I might even be useful.’

  Feeling oddly touched, Solace nodded. ‘I can’t see why not.’

  ‘You should go now, then,’ said Laine, after a moment of awkward silence. Her voice was unusually soft. ‘There’s nothing else we can do until Harper recovers. Go.’

  When no one proposed anything to the contrary, Solace nodded.

  Reflexively, she ran her hands down her legs and encountered the rip in her skirt. Frowning at it, she tugged gently on the fabric to see how serious it was, which caused the tear to lengthen by another centimetre. Inwardly, Solace groaned. An impromptu thigh-slit is one thing, but any higher and I’ll be lucky if I’m left with a waistband.

  ‘Wonderful,’ she muttered. ‘We finally make a decision, and I’m betrayed by poor craftsmanship. Did anyone bring a spare change of clothes?’

  ‘Oh!’ Electra almost jumped up. ‘I knew there was something I meant to tell you! Well, not that it’s vitally important,’ she amended, seeing their change in expressions, ‘but there’s new clothes in each of our rooms, in the wardrobes. Actually, I’ve got an outfit ready to change into. I was just, you know. Waiting for the right moment.’

  Solace heaved a grateful sigh. ‘Electra, you’re a champion. Be right back!’ Hurrying into her room, she closed the door, leaned against it and shut her eyes. Then she advanced on the wardrobe, which contained a mixture of men’s and women’s clothes, a surprising majority of which were to her taste. After lingering over several beautiful skirts, Solace regretfully opted for pragmatism over beauty. She changed quickly into a pair of soft black moleskin pants and a sleeveless blood-red shirt, her own having acquired more than its fair share of stains since Electra had last washed it. Spying a brush on the side-table, she yanked it through her hair, checked the laces on her boots, pulled her leather jacket back on and re-entered the communal area, mentally steeling herself.

  Evan stood up and tilted his head at her bedroom door. ‘Done powdering your nose, Lacey?’

  ‘Lacey?’ Solace asked. Then she realised he meant her, and made a face. ‘I’m not touching that one.’ Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the pages of her mother’s book and the key to Starveldt, passing the former into Jess’s custody.

  ‘Just in case,’ she said, in answer to the unasked question.

  Jess nodded, looking from Solace to Evan. ‘Off you pop, then!’ And then, with more seriousness and a pointed glance at her brother, ‘Be careful. We want you back.’

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ said Solace when Evan was slow to answer.
Jess continued to stare at him and he nodded solemnly, which seemed to satisfy her.

  The key felt cold and heavy in Solace’s palm. Beside her, Evan reached out and took hold of her free hand. Solace raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment, watching instead as an old-fashioned keyhole appeared on her bedroom door. Memories of their escape from Lukin’s tower flashed through her mind: the shimmering air-void once they’d come through, the flash beforehand and her intervening talk with the Voice in the darkness.

  ‘I don’t really know how this works,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve only ever used it once, and that was on Lukin’s magic door. What if it doesn’t work?’

  Squeezing her hand, Evan twined their fingers together.

  ‘It’ll work. Trust me.’

  Gulping a little, Solace reached out and inserted the key.

  Take us to the warehouse.

  There was a flash of green. The room vanished, melting into blackness. As before, there were cobblestones underfoot, with only a slim halo of light illuminating her flesh. Unlike before, she wasn’t alone: Evan was there, still clutching her hand.

  ‘You’ve returned, I see. With company.’

  It was the Voice. Evan jumped, but didn’t speak. Solace felt swamped by irritation. She’d been hoping to avoid this part.

  ‘I have. And you’re still here.’

  ‘I’m the guardian. I’m always here.’

  ‘So you told me.’ Keeping her tone steady was an effort. Genteel though the Voice was, his existence was just so frustrating.

  The sound of distant humming filled the darkness.

  ‘You are again seeking the one called Glide,’ the Voice observed. ‘This time, your suspicions are correct. He is at the warehouse.’

  ‘Great. Can you take us there?’

  ‘Have you learned the significance of the key?’

  ‘Yes!’ She bit back her impatience. ‘I mean, it’s been explained to me.’

  The Voice considered this. ‘That is partially true. Still. I do not recommend that you proceed.’

  ‘You said that last time,’ Solace growled. ‘What, is something else on fire?’

  ‘No. You are safe in the Rookery.’

  ‘I’ll be safe when Sanguisidera and Grief are dead,’ said Solace, and a pang went through her as she realised it was true. She didn’t want to kill anyone, and Electra had been right when she said that mercy was what separated them from the Bloodkin. But how else could she ever be free? It was an ugly thought, and one she was more than willing to postpone. ‘Until that happens, all bets are off. Send us through.’

  There was a whistling sound. Almost, she could believe the Voice was sighing.

  ‘Very well. To the warehouse. Both of you.’

  The blackness vanished. As had happened in Lukin’s minaret, Solace felt a rushing sensation, as though she were swooping back into her body without ever having left it. A moment of disorientation followed: her senses didn’t work, and yet she knew that, somewhere, her free hand was moving, withdrawing the key, turning the handle, opening the door.

  A square of light met her vision, dazzling and impossible. Beside her, she heard Evan suck in breath.

  They stepped forward.

  Gravel crunched beneath his feet. Evan stumbled, still partially blinded despite the the light being gone. Blinking rapidly, he pulled away from Solace and shielded his eyes, feeling absurdly exhilarated to be on Earth. I left the world. And now I’m back. The knowledge buoyed him. For a moment, he fought the urge to shout out loud.

  They were directly beside the charred remains of what had once been the warehouse. It was a sobering sight. Last time he’d stood here, it had been full night, the smoke yellow-brown and sordid against the velvet sky, choking him with ash, bitterness, shock. Now it was dusk, the air crisp with the threat of winter. As he turned to Solace, he saw that she, too, was moved by their surroundings. Or perhaps, he thought, she’s just happy to have missed sunset.

  Out loud, he asked, ‘Assuming your vision of Glide was in real-time, you would’ve seen him yesterday afternoon, right?’

  Solace jumped, startled out of her reverie. ‘Yes. I mean, I think so. It felt like the present.’

  ‘Good enough for me.’ Despite the selfcontainment of Solace’s thoughts, his newfound sensitivity caught the sharp tang of guilt emanating from her: acidic and red-grey, with just a touch of salt. Her mindscent, as he was coming to think of such emotions, made him feel momentarily awkward. Until Jess alluded to it, he’d all but forgotten Solace’s short-lived fling with Glide, and that, in turn, made him feel guilty. After Phoebe’s death, only Solace had had the courage to ask him how he’d felt. The least he could do was extend her the same courtesy.

  ‘Was the Voice telling the truth?’ he asked. ‘Do you think he’s still in there?’

  ‘Yes. I can’t imagine a disembodied presence going out of its way to be deceptive. And part of me –’ She broke off, shaking her head. ‘Part of me can almost sense him. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because of the vision.’

  ‘Maybe it’s because you cared for him.’

  ‘Maybe.’ A muscle twitched in her jaw. She laughed, softly. ‘Want to know a secret? I’ve been kissed twice in my life. Glide was the first. Part of me thinks I should regret that, because of what he’s done. But I don’t.’

  ‘And the second time?’

  She flinched at the question, and Evan realised immediately that he’d said the wrong thing. Idiot! He opened his mouth to take it back, but Solace drew a shuddering breath and answered.

  ‘Grief.’ Her eyes were liquid obsidian. ‘In that place, whatever it was, when he stole me. He bit my lip.’

  By dint of extreme effort, Evan managed not to swear. He wanted to say, I wiped the blood off your eyes, but didn’t know how to make the observation relevant. He tried a different tack. ‘Solace, if there’d been a mirror when we brought you back … you could barely talk, let alone move. What he did to you was wrong. But that doesn’t taint you. Caring for Glide doesn’t taint you, either, no matter what he did. Okay?’

  It took her a moment, but she nodded. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Good.’ He exhaled in a rush, suddenly embarrassed, and scuffed his foot on the ground. What I wouldn’t give for a glass of – no. Remember Harper. No drinking. By way of distraction, he contemplated the police tape, as flimsy a barrier to curiosity as had ever been conceived. Grinning at Solace, he bowed towards the tape and flourished one arm.

  ‘Ladies first.’

  ‘Thanks ever so.’ Lifting the cordon, she ducked beneath it.

  He followed close behind. Under different circumstances, he might have found the ruins fascinating – beautiful, even. What chunks of glass remained intact were smoke-mottled and warped, while the fallen steel and charred wood had gained an indigo haze in the twilight, muting their sharp edges. Debris crunched underfoot like leaf-litter in a forest, shifting and crackling. Evan wasn’t game to touch what remained of the structure, but whenever the second level had fallen – presumably sometime after the fire was quenched, as his memory was of flames licking at both – it had pulled one large section of wall askew. The bricks there hung at a precarious angle that dared his inner five-year-old to lean on it, just to see what would happen. It was haphazard, intriguing and melancholic, like an Escher sketch come to life. Three of my friends died here. There’s nothing beautiful in that.

  Ahead of him, Solace stopped. Her mindscent had gone tense and sharp, like a bowstring on the verge of release.

  ‘Glide?’

  There was a crackling sound. Evan held his breath. For a moment, it seemed like nothing would happen. Then, with an audible sigh, Glide stepped out from behind what remained of the kitchen cupboards. His face was bruised, his shoulders stooped and his clothes were streaked with ash. Combined with his battered visage, it lent him an air of sackcloth-and-ashes penitence. Solace’s mindscent flared white-blue and butterscotch with hope, but subsided quickly, tamped down by her self-control. Glide was not so discreet. He
approached them silently, limping as he favoured his left side, but now that Evan knew to look for them, his emotions clamoured like hungry dogs: icy self-recrimination, red-wet pain, even a spark of lust, but all underwritten by wrenching despair.

  ‘Solace.’ Glide’s voice was rough. ‘I didn’t think you’d come. When I felt you here, I thought I was dreaming. But you came back.’

  The two of them stood face to face, separated by only a few centimetres. Battered by Glide’s turbulent mindscent, Evan cursed Laine for broadening his senses to such a degree that standing beside even two people was mentally discomforting. He banished the thought, struggling to concentrate. Glide was yet to acknowledge his presence, and Solace seemed to have forgotten how to speak. Every muscle in her neck and arms was tense, her feet immobile. With deliberate slowness, Glide reached out and stroked Solace’s cheek. She didn’t move, but when the traitor leaned in to kiss her, she let out a cry and stumbled backwards.

  Evan intervened. ‘Hey!’

  Glide jumped, turning his way for the first time.

  Evan glowered. ‘We haven’t come here just so you can play kiss-and-make-up. Do you even see where we’re standing?’ He gestured at the ruins. ‘You did this. You killed our friends here.’

  Glide blanched. ‘You don’t understand. It wasn’t my fault.’

  ‘It wasn’t?’ Solace’s voice was tight, but her emotions remained carefully mute.

  Glide shook his head and swallowed. ‘No. It was Sanguisidera. She was in me, warping me, making me do things that I never –’

  ‘Making you do things?’ Evan interrupted. ‘Meaning that you set the fire?’

  ‘No!’ Glide glanced pleadingly between them, but Evan could taste the lies on him, the fear and desperation. ‘No, it was her, she pushed herself into my mind, my thoughts – I had no choice, Solace –’ he turned back to her, ‘– she took everything from me. Please. Please believe me. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt anyone. They would have killed me.’

  For what felt like an eternity, Solace stared at Glide. Her eyes were as black as Evan had ever seen them. She breathed deeply, exhaling with the sharp rhythm of contained fury. When she spoke, her voice was soft, but no less powerful for it.