by Lian Tanner
Then she stepped forward to meet those hulking men, knowing it was the last thing she would ever do.
* * *
The half-curtain was almost completely burnt, and there was nothing more to throw on it. The fire was dying down.
Gwin could hear Nat talking in a rapid undertone. “First principle of Fetcher performance: Keep your audience’s attention. Because if you let it slip, it’s twice as hard to get it back. And the shock only comes once.” He paused. “What’s happening, Gwin? Can you see Papa?”
“I—I’m not sure.” Gwin swayed a little, trying to see past her improvised hood. “No. I can see Poosk though. He’s turning away from us, Nat. And so’re his men!”
“I knew it,” said Nat. “I knew that’d happen. What’s taking Sharkey so long?” His voice rose. “What’s he doing?”
Gwin had no answers. She was strung so tight with wishing and hoping that she was afraid she’d snap in half. Come on, Sharkey, she thought. Come ON!
The noises from below grew louder. Someone screamed. The fighting was starting up again.
“The cable,” hissed Petrel. “It’s humming! We’re ready. Go, Nat. Go!”
Gwin saw Poosk raise his cudgel. But before it could descend, Nat spoke again. The flames had died, so his amplified voice came out of complete darkness.
“I am Coe,” he cried. “The Devouts take the light away. I give it back!”
And suddenly, shining from the topmost stone of the monument, there was the sun.…
CHAPTER 32
I AM NOT MADE FOR FIGHTING
Petrel’s blood was humming as loud as the cable, but she held the powerful spotlight nice and steady, so it lit up the monument and the villagers and the combined army of shipfolk and Sunkers. It lit the Devouts too, and their hostages, trailing back down the road.
The villagers had fallen on their faces in awe. More important, so had the Devouts. A few of them might’ve known about the eclipse, but they had no idea what this was. West Norn hadn’t seen lectricity for three hundred years. The brightest thing they knew, apart from the sun, was a brace of candles or a flaming torch.
Brother Thrawn was cowering in his chair with his hands over his eyes. Poosk and his fellows seemed to be trying to bury themselves in the stones of the monument, frightened out of their senses.
The Sunkers and shipfolk, however, were rallying. They recognized lectric light when they saw it. This might be brighter than they were used to, but they didn’t fear it. After that first shock, hundreds of them dashed toward the column of Devouts, seized the hostages and carried them to safety. Others snatched cudgels and knives from their owners, or found ropes and began to tie up anyone who looked important.
There was little resistance.
We’ve got ’em, thought Petrel, with amazement. We’ve done it! And she eased the spotlight down onto the stones so her hands were free.
Beside her, the lower half of Coe whispered, “Do you think I should shout again?”
“Don’t reckon it’s needed,” murmured Petrel. “But stay where you are a bit longer just in case. I’ll leave the light turned on too. And I’ll free your da, don’t worry.”
She set off down the monument, skipping from stone to stone with her bones feeling as light as a gull’s. We’ve done it. We’ve DONE it!
Dolph was already cutting the prisoners loose. She looked up when she heard Petrel and grinned widely. “Thought it might be you. Where’d you find a great big light like that?”
The woman whose ropes she was loosening—Fin’s mam, thought Petrel—whispered, “I’ve never seen such a thing.”
“It’s just lectricity.” Petrel smiled and grabbed the discarded ropes. “It’s nothing to be scared of.”
She was determined to be pleased about Fin’s mam. No, she told herself firmly. I AM pleased. Soon as we’ve tied Poosk up, I’ll say something to her about Fin, about how brave he is and how he’ll be here as soon as he can. And maybe I’ll tell her that he’s my best friend because she should know that if she’s gunna take him away—
Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar and very dear voice—one she’d feared she might never hear again. “Hello, Petrel.”
It was the captain. His eyes were open, and although half his face was battered almost beyond recognition, he was gazing up at Petrel with all his old joy and wonder.
“Cap’n! You’re back!”
“There’s nothin’ like a Baniski coil for settin’ things to rights,” said Mister Smoke, his paws working busily at the captain’s ropes. “But Slink and I could do with a hand on these knots.”
Petrel dropped down beside the two rats, her fingers pulling at the knots even as the words poured out of her. “We found the Singer, Cap’n. She’s the one who gave you up to Poosk, but she had good reason for it, and I don’t blame her anymore. And we found the root of the tree—I mean, we found what the root meant, the one in the Song, remember? That’s it underneath us, did you hear the rumble when it started up? I reckon it was your Serran Coe who left it for us—at least he really left it for you, but you were in no condition to do anything about it. I hope you don’t mind us jumping in and pulling that lever, but we didn’t know what else to do. There, that’s the last knot, I think.”
She stopped to take a breath, and heard a whisper of sound behind her. Dolph shouted, “Watch out!”
But before Petrel could react, an arm went round her throat and jerked her upright, and a violent kick sent Mister Smoke and Missus Slink flying.
Dolph flung herself at Poosk, but pulled up short when he tightened his grip on Petrel’s neck. “Any closer,” he snarled, “and your friend dies.”
Petrel struggled, but it was no use. Poosk dragged her across the stones to his two remaining men, and booted one of them in the ribs. “Get up, fool.”
The man didn’t move, but Petrel heard his muffled voice say, “But, Brother, they brought back the sun—”
“It is not the sun,” hissed Brother Poosk. “It is something from the old times, that is all. Are they afraid of it? No. So we should not be, either. Now get up, both of you, if you want to live. Quickly, or I shall have you hanged.”
The men scrambled to their feet, averting their eyes from the bright spotlight. Poosk turned back to Dolph. “Hand over my prisoners. And your weapons.”
Dolph didn’t move.
Poosk nudged Petrel forward until her feet teetered on the edge of a stone. “It is some distance to the bottom of the monument,” he said, in a conversational tone. “Especially headfirst. I doubt if your friend here would survive it.”
Before Dolph could respond, one way or the other, the captain stood up. “Here I am. There is no need to hurt anyone.”
“No, Cap’n,” croaked Petrel. “You’ve gotta fight ’em.”
“I am not made for fighting,” came the quiet reply.
“You hear that, Brothers?” cried Poosk. “It seems we are not beaten after all. Take hold of the creature.”
His men didn’t want to touch the captain, that was clear, even though there were two of them and only one of him. But after a bit of whispering back and forth, they slung one of the ropes around his arms and knotted it tight.
Above their heads, the sky was just beginning to lighten, like a new dawn. But Petrel’s heart had seldom felt darker. Idiot! she raged at herself. Sharkey and Rain told you how tricky Poosk was. You should’ve run a rope around him straight off, before you said a single word to the cap’n.
It was too late for that now. One of the Devouts picked up a chunk of stone and weighed it in his hand. “Can we smash the demon, Brother Poosk? Then burn it? We will not be safe till we do.”
“Very soon, Brother,” replied Poosk. “Very soon.” He swung back to Dolph. “My other prisoners, if you please. Or the girl dies.”
Fin’s mam had been untying the Fetcher when Poosk seized Petrel. Now, after a quick glance at each other, they stepped forward too.
Poosk nodded approvingly. “Woman, untie Brothe
r Cull. Quickly! Now relieve her”—he jerked his chin toward Dolph—“of her weapon.”
With a sigh, Dolph handed her knife to Fin’s mam, who passed it to the newly freed Cull. Behind them, Mister Smoke and Missus Slink were limping back up the stones.
Poosk raised his voice. “Come no closer, imps. And you”—he pointed at Dolph again—“go and join them … farther away than that … farther still. Ah, that will do. Brother Cull, watch them, if you please. Make sure they do not move.”
Down below, shipfolk and Sunkers were beginning to realize that things weren’t going quite the way they’d thought. As the sky grew lighter, they squinted up at the monument, trying to work out what was happening.
“Bring the demon over here,” Poosk said to his men, “so they can see we have it. Hold it up, and prepare to throw it onto the stones below.” He grabbed Petrel under the arms and picked her up so that her feet dangled in midair.
Petrel could hardly believe that everything had changed so suddenly and disastrously. We came all this way for nothing, she thought. Fin’ll never get to hug his mam. Gwin and Nat’ll never get their da back. And the cap’n and I—
“Invaders!” shouted Poosk. “Where are your leaders?”
There was a bit of shouting back and forth below, then Admiral Deeps, First Officer Hump, Krill and Albie shoved their way through the crowd and strode to the base of the monument, murmuring to each other as they came. Behind them, the villagers could see the way things were heading and were beginning to slink away, with their freed bratlings clutched to their sides.
“Stop there and throw down your weapons,” shouted Poosk, “or my prisoners will die.”
Krill and Hump exchanged a glance; then all four of them stopped. But they kept hold of their knives and wrenches.
Out of the corner of her eye, Petrel saw five figures jumping from stone to stone down the monument. Gwin and Nat were at the front, hand in hand, and behind them came Sharkey, Fin and Rain, their faces bleeding and their clothes in shreds from that awful climb.
Cull tapped Brother Poosk’s shoulder. “The rest of the cubs have turned up, Brother. Including the Initiate.”
Poosk’s chest creaked like an unoiled hatch, and Petrel realized he was chuckling. “Initiate!” he cried, beaming at Fin, while at the same time keeping half an eye on those below. “How kind of you to grace us with your presence. As you can see, your mama has changed sides yet again. She is now my friend. What do you think of that, eh?”
Fin didn’t answer. His face was like ice, and he didn’t even look at his mam. But Petrel knew him well enough to see the pain behind that blank expression.
There she is, so close, and he can’t do a thing, she thought. And Gwin smiling so wide and bright at her da, though there’s nothing to smile about, not that I can see. And Sharkey waving to the adm’ral, who hates him.…
“Make sure they stay at a good distance, Cull,” said Poosk, with another of those horrible chuckles. “We do not want any little accidents, do we?”
He turned back to the four leaders below, and the chuckle vanished. “Down weapons. I will not warn you again.”
Admiral Deeps gazed up at him for a long, long time. Then, “Your first mistake,” she said loudly and clearly, “was thinking that we care about the girl.”
To Petrel’s horror, Krill nodded as if he agreed with the admiral. She felt a sharp pain in her chest, which had nothing to do with the danger she was in.
“Your second mistake,” continued Deeps, “was thinking that we care about the mechanical boy.”
This time it was First Officer Hump who nodded.
No! thought Petrel.
“Perhaps there is some residual fondness for the two of them, among our crews,” Deeps said blandly. “But nothing more than that. You will not get what you want by holding their deaths over our heads.”
It’s a trick, Petrel thought desperately. It’s got to be.
She could understand folk not caring about her, but the captain was special. He carried all sorts of important knowledge inside him, ready to rebuild things when the Devouts were beaten. What’s more, he was kind and honorable. And he was Petrel’s friend. He wouldn’t turn away from her, like Krill had just done.
I can’t let the cap’n die, she told herself. I WON’T let him die!
Poosk glared down at Deeps. “You’ll change your tune when we burn the demon.”
“Burn away,” said Deeps. “You won’t get a thing out of us.” She paused. “But we are willing to consider a truce.”
She took another step forward and lowered her voice a little so that Poosk and his men had to strain to hear her. “Personally I don’t like the idea. As far as I’m concerned, you’re all scum.”
“But…” prompted Albie, from beside her.
“But I cannot deny your strength. You’ve held this country for three hundred years—we were mad to believe we could destroy you in a few weeks.” She threw up her hands in disgust, paced a few steps one way, then back again, as if she was thinking aloud. “Besides, I don’t like the mood of the peasants. We can’t feed them as much as they want to be fed, and they’re growing angry because of it. If they turn against us, we’ll be in trouble. And if we throw down your lot, the peasants will be leaderless. The land will fall into chaos, and who knows what will happen then? Perhaps an even worse regime will arise.…”
Poosk couldn’t take his eyes off the admiral. Petrel could tell from the way his hands tightened on her arms that he was imagining the future, imagining the Devouts returned to their lives of power and luxury. With Poosk the one who had negotiated it.
He hadn’t forgotten about Dolph and the others, and neither had his men. But Petrel’s friends had no weapons, and besides, they were too far away to take the Devouts by surprise.
Which meant that Petrel was the only one of them who saw what happened next.
Gwin and Nat had taken a step away from their companions and were wiping their hands surreptitiously on their knee pants. Gwin, her face pale, climbed onto a higher stone as if she wanted to see better. Her brother cupped his hands and braced his legs.
Petrel thought she heard someone whisper, “One, two, three.” Then Gwin jumped down toward her brother.
No sooner was her foot in his cupped hands than he heaved upward with all his might. And Gwin flew! She somersaulted across that uncrossable gap, as quick and clever as anything Petrel had ever seen. And when she came out of the somersault, one of her feet was aimed straight at Brother Poosk’s head.
Petrel was ready for her, but the Devouts weren’t. At the last moment, they saw something flying toward them and ducked. Their grip on their prisoners loosened. Gwin’s foot clipped Poosk’s ear and knocked him sideways. Gwin’s da threw up his arms—and caught his daughter.
Petrel was away from Poosk and grabbing hold of the captain before the Devouts had time to draw breath. “Come on, Cap’n!” she cried.
A mechanical boy couldn’t move quickly, not on those treacherous stones. But three seconds later Dolph was there and so were Sharkey and Fin, helping Petrel with the captain, helping Fin’s mam and the Fetchers, while Mister Smoke and Missus Slink skipped along behind them, stabbing at the Devouts’ ankles with knife and screwdriver. Rain stood higher up, shouting, “Sharkey, behind you. Dolph, on your left!”
And then Admiral Deeps, Albie, Krill and Hump were surging up the monument and into battle, with fish knives and pipe wrenches in their hands. Albie winked at Petrel as he passed, as if they were old friends.
“We fooled you, lass, with our talk of negotiation,” he cried. “I could see it on your face.”
And then he was gone, slipping in and out of the fight with his usual vicious cunning, leaving Petrel dumbfounded and not sure what to believe.
The Devouts fought with desperate intent, but they were outnumbered. Within a couple of minutes they were lying on the stones, bruised, bleeding and begging for mercy.
Only Poosk still resisted. He had tucked himself in behin
d the fighters, looking so pathetic that no one had bothered with him. But now, with his fellow Devouts overpowered, he dashed toward Petrel and the captain.
Petrel didn’t know if he was trying to escape or intending to grab them again. But she wasn’t taking any chances, not at this stage. She tried to drag the captain out of the way, trusting that someone else would stop Poosk.
But the captain wouldn’t budge. Instead, as Poosk ran past, he stuck out his mechanical foot.
Brother Poosk tripped and fell, headlong down the monument. He landed on the very spot where he would have thrown Petrel, and did not move again.
Petrel stared at that still body. “I—I thought you weren’t made for fighting, Cap’n.”
“That was not fighting,” said the captain, in his sweetest voice. “That was science. If a body is moving at a certain speed, and you stop one part of it, the rest of it will keep going. For a little while, at least.”
And with that, he left Petrel where she was, saying, “There is a lot to do. We must get started immediately.”
CHAPTER 33
OUR ZEPPALEEN
Gwin hadn’t moved since Papa caught her. She didn’t want to move—she wanted to stay safe and warm in his arms, the way she used to when she was small.
But she couldn’t stop the world from moving on, no matter how strong-willed she might be. And besides, they had to go and look for Spindle. And Wretched.
She slid to the ground.
Below her, the collapse of Brother Poosk and his men had ripped the heart out of the Devouts. Their hostages were gone and so were their weapons. Their fine brown robes were filthy. Up and down the road, for as far as Gwin could see, they sat with their heads in their hands and their world in pieces around them.
“Nat! Here!” shouted Papa.
Gwin looked up in time to see Nat making his way across the stones with his hand on Rain’s shoulder.
Papa hugged both his children tightly. “Thank you,” he said to Rain, over their heads, then he hugged them again. “I am Coe,” he muttered into their hair. “That was clever, my dears. That was so clever.”