Shine Light

by Marianne de Pierres

  He returned the embrace and let her go. Rollo and he held hands for a moment. Not a handshake; something more. Something that didn’t need words.

  Naif felt a fine spray of water on her face and looked up. The join had begun to leak jets of water. ‘Here it comes.’

  ‘I’ll wait on the other side,’ said Kero. He waded quickly over to the far wall and climbed as high as he could, using the nodes as steps. He tucked himself into a crevice and waved.

  They waited as the water volume slowly increased. Whatever the ship’s mechanism for sieving, it seemed to be struggling to work. Naif listened for the sound of some type of machinery but all she could hear was the gush of water. The uther boat floated easily, and she watched the rubbish on the floor begin to swirl in little whirlpools.

  Rollo gripped the edge of the join to stop them floating away.

  ‘It’d better open soon or we’re going to drown in here. Get ready to hold your breath.’

  Ufur clung to the rudder. He seemed smaller and less confident than the uther who’d sailed out with them. Naif wished she knew what to say to ease his grief, but in truth, she wasn’t sure they would live much longer. All her focus switched to surviving.

  She peered along the puckering join looking for the first sign that it might be about to separate.

  Please! Please! Lenoir! But her bond with him seemed so distant she wasn’t sure if it was even there.

  ‘There!’ shouted Rollo. ‘It’s coming.’

  On the furthest end, the seam began to peel back and seawater gushed in.

  ‘Hold on!’ he shouted again.

  The boat bobbed and twisted and Rollo’s arms strained to hold it in place. ‘Help me,’ he cried.

  Naif leaned across and sank her fingers into the wall. The pair of them held and held until the water was so high they were almost touching the roof.

  Naif glanced wildly across for Kero but she couldn’t see him.

  ‘Now,’ said Rollo. ‘Let go.’

  The boat spun and then shot forward and out of the gap. For a second they seemed to be suspended in the air and then they smashed hard into the sea.

  Naif hit her head against the side as she clung with all her remaining energy to the closest grab. The boat rolled and tipped and she heard a strange, deep and prolonged groan echoing around her.

  Not from one of them. From the Riper ship. Such a weary sound.

  Then all became calm.

  She sat up and looked around. The ship lay behind them and the lights of Ixion were much closer. A pale strip of soil ahead told her the shore was in reach.

  ‘You’re bleeding,’ said Rollo. ‘Your head.’

  She managed a smile. ‘Yes. But alive.’

  He took her hand and held it to her wound. ‘Press your finger against it.’

  She did as he said and settled against the side of the boat.

  ‘Ufur, will you steer us in?’ said Rollo.

  The uther raised its head and saw the lights of its home. With heavy movements it took the helm.

  They parted at Lenoir’s carriage. Ufur promised them, in clipped, formal words, that he would bring them help when they needed it.

  Before it turned to leave them, the creature took Naif’s hand once more in its paws. ‘Uma thanks you. Uwass thanks you.’ The uther blinked the sheen of moisture from its eyes. ‘Forget not.’

  It disappeared into a tunnel to tell its kind of their loss.

  Rollo and Naif climbed inside the carriage.

  As Naif collapsed on the lush upholstery and heard the door click shut, she felt – just for a short moment – safe. Untouchable.

  But the throb of the wound at her temple and the heavy, wet feeling of her clothes soon brought with them a reminder of what lay ahead. Focus. Plan. Move forward.

  As the carriage settled into its jerky motion, she forced herself upright. ‘The first thing is to get the message to Ruzalia about Kero and our plan.’

  ‘How?’ said Rollo.

  ‘She has draculins sweeping the prayer hutches on the island. There’s one down from Illi where we followed the tunnel out from the Grotto.’

  ‘I remember it,’ said Rollo. ‘We’ll need parchment, ink and quill.’

  Naif nodded. ‘There’ll be some in Illi.’

  ‘You can’t go back in there looking like that. The Ripers will spot you straight away.’ He pointed to her wet, ragged clothes. His, though stained and wet, were of Ixion.

  ‘You’ll know people in Illi, won’t you?’

  ‘Yeah. Been spending a lot of time there.’

  ‘Then find a girl around my size who’ll give you clothes from her locker. Bring them and the parchment and a quill to the prayer hutch.’

  ‘Fine. But once that’s done, how are you going to get the gangs to listen to you? Even Eve could only attract so many to the League.’

  ‘You know the leaders. You speak to them. Tell them about Kero. That he needs our help. I’ll convince the rest. Or at least enough of them.’

  ‘Convince them of what?’

  ‘To march on Danskoi. We need numbers as a distraction until Ruzalia gets here.’

  ‘The Ripers will turn us back. And what about the Night Creatures? Don’t you remember last time? They were everywhere.’

  Naif bit her lip. When Eve had sent that flare into the sky it had lit a seething mass of creatures who wanted her dead.

  ‘We’ll bring more torches and lanterns. As much light as we can carry.’

  ‘Weapons?’ he said hopefully.

  Naif hesitated. She didn’t want them to fight. But in her heart, she knew it might be the only way to buy time for Ruzalia to come. ‘We can arm ourselves at the Leaguers’ camp.’

  Rollo fist-pumped the air. ‘Finally! We’re doing something.’

  She clasped her hands together and twisted them. ‘What if it doesn’t work?’

  ‘It will,’ he said. ‘It has to.’

  ‘But if it doesn’t?’

  Rollo leaned forward. He sat opposite her, their knees almost touching. ‘You said it before. We’re all dying anyway,’ he said softly. ‘What choice have we got but to try this?’

  ‘Ufur promised he would convince the uthers to reverse the badges. Maybe we should wait ’til they come?’

  ‘We can’t wait. Suki and Eve and all the League are in that place. What happens if they don’t have as long as Lenoir said?’

  Lenoir? Where are you? She tested their bond and was relieved to feel the faintest of tugs. But still no sense of his state of mind. Did Brand have him? What had happened here while they’d been searching for Uma?

  Lenoir? We’ve returned.

  Naif ? His voice in her mind was so weak she wasn’t sure it was real.

  Lenoir. Are you . . .?

  Find Test . . .

  I can’t. Things have changed. Where are you?

  But the faint tug diminished to nothing more than a tiny flicker. It had been like that before she left Grave. Had he closed down their link to protect her? Or was he . . .?

  ‘What is it?’ said Rollo, as he watched her. ‘Is it him? Are you talking to him?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You get this look on your face sometimes. I can tell you’re somewhere else.’

  Naif immediately set her expression to blank.

  Rollo thumped the seat next to him. ‘Don’t do that. Not after all we’ve been through. Don’t shut off.’

  Naif felt a return rush of emotion that she couldn’t contain. ‘Back there, you wished me dead. Why would I speak to you of Lenoir?’

  He leaned back, crossing his arms, looking to the window. ‘Sometimes I say things I don’t mean. That’s why I went back to taking the beads and pods. I couldn’t stop the anger.’

  She let the fury drain from her. Fighting with Rollo wasted energy she did not have. She leaned back and closed her eyes. ‘We’ll be there soon. You should rest.’

  Rollo didn’t reply.

  Naif gathered those few precious moments of q
uiet around her and laid them across herself like a cloak. They evaporated soon enough, when the carriage juddered to a standstill and sank onto the ground. She had learned to read its movements now, and knew they had reached their destination.

  ‘We’re here,’ she said, opening the door. ‘I’ll wait for you in the prayer hutch.’

  The outline of Illi seemed almost welcoming in its familiarity but Naif didn’t dwell on the feeling.

  Rollo climbed out after her without a word and took the Lesser Path around the side of the church. It had only been hours since she had been here with Lenoir, and yet it felt as if days had passed.

  She closed the carriage door and heard it lock itself. Then she took the same route as Rollo to the edge of the church, where she found a converging track that led down towards the Grotto.

  When she reached the top of the steps, several more poorly lit paths led off in different directions. Which one? She couldn’t afford a mistake.

  Closing her eyes, she tried to picture how they’d emerged from the tunnel and found the prayer hutch after the gangs had all met. That was before she’d left Ixion. They’d been almost giggling with relief, and Suki had stayed close to her.

  She opened her eyes again. This one, she thought, looking to a narrow path on her left. Bending down, she drew an arrow in the dirt for Rollo where the light glowed strongest. Perhaps he would see it. Perhaps he would remember without the clue.

  She hurried along, peering into the gloom for the stone and wood ruin. The sticky air pimpled her wet skin, but seemed thick and heavy after the freshness of the sea.

  When she saw the outline of the hutch, her relief was so great she almost missed the shadowy movements in the dark.

  It’s her.

  It is.

  Back. She’s back.

  All must know.

  The voices filled her head in the way Lenoir’s did. Only their intentions felt angry and wrong. Naif ran, flinging herself through the opening to the prayer hutch and huddling on the floor below the broken wheel. The Illi lights reflected softly on the worn grey stone. All else remained dark and grim.

  Hurry, Rollo! Hurry!

  She pressed her hands to her ears and curled up, making herself as small as possible. Should she climb into the tunnel that led down to the Grotto? Would that be safer?

  Feeling around on the floor, she located the hatch that would let her enter the tunnel, but the iron ring had been torn off, leaving only a shard of rusted metal. She used both hands to tug at it but it wouldn’t shift.

  Frightened of making too much noise, she curled into herself again, and waited. The Night Creatures lurked but they did not come for her. Yet.

  The night, though still, carried an assortment of sounds: faint music, the rustle of the bushes and the high-pitched squeal of bats.

  The Night Creatures’ voices had quieted. Her legs cramped and her toes became numb as she waited. Perhaps they would leave her alone?

  Then a tentacle began to feel its way across the stones, tapping and rolling its suckers over the surface.

  As quietly as she could, Naif reached up and felt around the prayer wheel for something she could use as a weapon. But the wheel’s struts had long ago crumbled away, leaving only the worn nub.

  A second tentacle joined the first, this one unfurling over the broken wall from the opposite side. They were all around her.

  The first tentacle lashed out in her direction, just missing her feet. She pressed harder against the wheel.

  Rollo! Hurry!

  ‘Naif ?’

  His voice and the torch light that bobbed into view steadied her rising hysteria. The light would make the creatures retreat.

  ‘Here! In the hutch. Be careful, they’re all around us.’

  His light arced higher. ‘I can see them,’ he said. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Down by the wheel.’

  His footsteps sounded on the stone and suddenly he was there, lighting her dark corner, banishing the encroaching Night Creatures.

  She leapt up, wanting to hug him, their earlier disagreement forgotten.

  He pulled some torch wicks from the bundle he carried. Passing some to her, he took the extra wicks and lit them from the one he held. When he’d done that, he wedged them into cracks in the wall of the hutch, giving them a well-lit space to move around in. While he did that, Naif searched.

  ‘You write while I dress,’ said Naif. She passed him the ink, quill and parchment. ‘Turn around.’

  While Rollo spread the parchment onto the floor and dipped the quill, Naif slipped into the clothes he’d brought her. The plum-coloured dress had a plunging neckline and fitted bodice that fell out into a skirt of soft frills. She felt uncomfortable with bare shoulders and odd donning something as tight after her loose pirate’s garb. But the pair of flat satin shoes he brought fitted well enough, and were a relief from the suffocatingly wet bootees. She tied Kero’s bandana around one ankle.

  ‘What shall I say in the message?’ asked Rollo. He looked around at her and his mouth fell open. ‘Umm . . . that looks . . . umm . . . whoa!’

  She ignored him. ‘Stick to what we decided. Ask her to pick up Kero when it’s done.’

  He closed his mouth and started writing. When he’d finished, he handed the parchment to her.

  She read it, nodded, and handed it back to him. ‘Let’s pray the draculin comes soon.’

  ‘We shouldn’t have left Kero there,’ said Rollo.

  ‘One of us had to stay.’

  He shook his head. ‘It should have been me.’

  ‘He wanted to. Now we need to hurry,’ said Naif.

  Rollo wrapped the parchment in a small patch of dark hide.

  ‘Where did you get that?’ she asked.

  He pointed to the hem of his pants. It was only then that she noticed he’d changed clothes and that the leather had a patch torn away.

  ‘On top?’ he asked.

  ‘That’s what Ruzalia said.’

  He took a torch from the wall and handed it to her. She followed him to the broken wall and held the light aloft while he climbed it. Her senses strained as she peered into the gloom. How many of them were out there? Did they really know it was her?

  Rollo jumped down, startling her. ‘Let’s get the fross out of here. I can feel them breathing all over us. Stay as close as you can.’

  They collected the rest of the torches, three each, and hurried back along the path to Illi.

  Naif lengthened her stride to match his exactly, so that she was never more than a step behind him. Several times she saw the shimmer of a movement and the sweep of a tentacle in her corner sight. Each time she swept her torches in an arc and watched the creatures shrink back from it.

  As they drew close to the church Naif felt a downdraught of air and heard the swish of large wings.

  She stared into the sky and saw two dark shadows swoop overhead.

  ‘Draculins,’ she whispered to Rollo.

  He stared up into the night as well, but the dark shapes vanished almost as soon as they had appeared. ‘I frossing hope so.’

  The stone floors of Illi echoed with some kind of uproar as they entered. It helped them slip in without attracting attention. Naif followed Rollo to the centre of the main floor where a large group of young ones was gathered.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Rollo, tapping on the shoulder of a girl with a black silk scarf around her neck. ‘I was here just before and everything was normal.’

  ‘The uthers haven’t brought any food.’

  ‘What about the clubs and the kafes?’ asked Naif.

  The girl narrowed her eyes. ‘Hey, don’t I know you?’

  ‘Answer her,’ Rollo told the girl impatiently.

  ‘Shuf off,’ replied the girl, and turned her back on them both.

  Naif touched her shoulder. ‘Please help us. We’ve got something to tell everyone.’

  She glanced back. ‘What’s so important?’

  ‘Is there food at the kafes and clubs?�
�

  ‘’Parently not. They just came here looking for some.’ She gestured to a group of young guys pushing each other. ‘They’re frossed out of their heads and there’s no food to straighten them out.’

  Naif and Rollo exchanged glances.

  ‘Who’s the supervisor here?’ asked Naif.

  Rollo cleared his throat loudly, opened his mouth and shut it again as if he wanted to say something.

  ‘She’s around somewhere.’ She stood on her toes and took a few steps in each direction. ‘Over there by the pulpit. Talking to the Riper.’

  Naif moved to get a better view of the dais. ‘It’s Modai,’ she said to Rollo, who came to stand next to her. ‘And Cal.’

  ‘Haven’t seen Modai since you left but . . . yeah . . . Cal’s supervisor here. I should have mentioned it.’

  Cal had been so cruel to Naif when she’d arrived on Ixion. At first Naif had disliked the girl and her obsession with keeping Markes to herself. But since learning that Cal was the child of a Grave warden, her dislike had changed to pity, her anger to wariness. Cruelty begat cruelty.

  ‘She’ll never listen to us.’

  ‘No,’ agreed Rollo. ‘And she’ll tell Modai.’

  ‘I remember who you are.’ The girl with the scarf had come up behind them. ‘You offered me your dress to come to that ball here. I’m Geen and that was real nice of you.’

  ‘I remember,’ said Naif. ‘Geen, could I use your scarf? I don’t want Modai to recognise me.’

  The girl shrugged. ‘Sure. Everyone talks about you. They say you ran away with that pirate. But I knew they were wrong.’

  ‘What else do they say?’

  ‘There’s talk about something bad going on in Danskoi but it’s hard to know what to believe. The gangs start rumours all the time to get people to join them. Hey, didn’t that dead Riper have it bad for you?’

  Naif twirled and seized her arm. ‘Which Riper?’

  ‘People are sayin’ Lenoir’s gone and Brand’s the new leader. That’s why Modai’s back.’ She shivered. ‘He gives me the creeps, that one. Always staring.’

  No! Naif tested her bond with Lenoir. Faint. So faint it might not be real. Still she clung to it. ‘Modai is dangerous, Geen. Listen. Tell everyone you know that there’s a meeting outside Los Fien next Early-Eve. The Ripers have captured the Cursed League. Dark Eve and Clash have gone. But Naif is back and she wants to tell everyone the truth about what she’s found out. About the Ripers. About the uthers. About Ixion. You got it? They have to come and hear me.’