I scanned the rest of our surroundings. On my left was a succession of crumbling, bombed-out buildings, while to my right there was what must have once been a green park, although it now resembled more of a small forest. Directly ahead, at the end of the street, there was an old iron bridge that looked intact.
‘It looks quiet enough,’ August muttered.
I closed my eyes and let my senses tune in to the concrete jungle around me, though it felt so lonely without Max. Without Max. My chest flared as though the Minotaur was ramming its twisted horns into me all over again. He couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t. I launched into a fresh sprint.
‘Why didn’t you detour to Arafel? We could have helped!’ I fired as August caught up with me beneath the ornate bridge, and paused for breath.
He scowled as I assessed our next best route. His golden face gleamed with health. As though he had stepped straight from a wheatfield in Arafel. The thought only fanned my anger.
‘And do what? Bring the entire Prolet population with me? So we could completely upset the balance of a precious Outsider community? The only one we know about in these parts?’
I looked up sharply.
‘The only one you know about in these parts?’ I repeated. ‘You mean there are more?’
In all my years in Arafel, there had only ever been them and us – the Insiders and the Outsiders, the last of the real human race. But the question about other survivors had haunted my father. He’d spent so many evenings poring over old-world maps and hypothesizing where oases, like ours, could have sprung up.
And it was a possibility discussed at great length by Thomas’s Council. I’d seen pages of minutes recorded in the Book of Arafel. But it was one emergency plan that had never needed to be dusted off, and as the years went on, most of us had drawn the lonely conclusion that Arafel was unique.
But right now, my pulse began to gallop.
‘Where? Where are the others?’
Together, we would stand a chance. A chance against Cassius and his programme.
But August had no chance to answer. The north sky was suddenly awash with a fine magenta mist, followed by a roll of thunder that made the ground tremble.
I made a grab for one of the bridge’s green supports, and shot an anxious look at August.
‘And so it begins,’ he offered cryptically, staring upwards.
‘North-east, sporadic spread,’ I analysed swiftly. ‘What is it?’
He drew a breath. ‘If I’m not mistaken, Cassius has unleashed his alpha weapon.’
And as though she heard, a poignant cry cut across the wind. It was so different to anything I’d heard before. A sound that raked through history, with a coarse and rusted voice.
We were running before the cry merged with its own echo, my heart beating with fresh hope. These streets were as decaying and abandoned as the rest, but if Cassius had seen fit to unleash his chimera, there had to be good reason.
This time I didn’t care who saw me. The blood sky was our guide and the north-east direction fitted with the path I would expect the task force to take if they’d survived somehow. Somehow. My heart leapt.
‘Talia! Hominum chimera is one of the most volatile creatures of the ancient mythical world,’ August called, struggling to keep up. ‘If it’s her, or a form of her, it’s unlikely she’ll remember you. There’s a lack of conscious awareness between morphing forms.’
I thought of the small child who’d looked so innocent, and yet different in a way I couldn’t quite identify. She always appeared wise beyond her years, earning her friendships in unlikely places as well as the devotion of a wise silenus.
Pan had clearly known. No doubt he’d been charged with her guardianship and protection as a dutiful Prolet. A ball of emotion rose up my throat and I ran faster to beat it. It was a duty he’d fulfilled to his death.
‘Why do you think Atticus and Lake took off together with the young Prolets?’ I asked, leaping the remains of a large metal pipe protruding from the road.
‘Did Atticus know what she was? Perhaps he saw her potential to defeat his own father? Why else would he free her?’
August shrugged, white-lipped.
‘From what I’ve learned of mythical Hominum chimera, she wasn’t a creature capable of friendship or loyalty. In that way, Lake already confounds expectations. But she is Cassius’s handiwork, and a creature of Pantheon,’ he added grimly. ‘She and Atticus must have befriended each other while in isolation. It was no secret that Cassius bore little love for his son, that he was the result of an illicit Prolet liaison. Atticus must have made a few underground friends, and broken Lake out for revenge when they decided to try for Arafel.’
‘Hell hath no fury like a son of Rome scorned,’ I quipped.
August looked at me.
Just as I recalled the page of chimera coding torn out from Thomas’s research. Panicking, I fumbled in my leather rations bag and, much to my amazement, pulled out the crumpled piece of paper. It was just how I remembered it. Somehow it had survived the river and the Oceanids, and I already knew better than to ask how. I smiled, before realizing there was something missing.
‘My slingshot!’ I exclaimed, double-checking my tunic pockets. They were empty.
I knew a single slingshot wasn’t going to be much use against the mythical beast of beasts, but it meant so much more than that. It had belonged to my father, and my grandfather before him. It was the only weapon I used in the forest, and I felt naked without it.
August frowned.
‘If the Oceanids kept one of your personal possessions it’s a good sign. It means they consider you worthy. They usually only keep personal effects they intend to trade in the future. It’s a compliment of sorts. Like a calling card.’ After a pause he added, ‘They didn’t take your new dart tube though. The one shaped like a tiny treehouse.’
I looked down, and saw Max’s gift still resting against my chest. And in a flash, I was back in Arafel, accepting his gift, making him promises. It was chased swiftly by memories of the night we shared, lying together and watching the dawn creep through the living canopy above our heads. Max had pulled me to him and called me his girl.
Guilt clawed up my throat. I was the most disloyal human being alive, I deserved my world to be ripped apart. And there were so many things written in August’s face. Curiosity, sympathy, understanding, jealousy. My eyes fell to the ground. What use was any of it? How could this ghost girl ever be whole again?
As if he could sense my despair, August lifted his hands and placing four fingers against his lips, released a piercing whistle into the full glare of the morning sun.
I started. ‘What are you doing? You’ll bring it right here.’
‘I might, but if the others have made it across the city, they may need the distraction. Besides, now we have a lead it’s a risk worth taking. We lost most of our horses in the raid … so we hid the last few in a small copse on the north side of the cathedral. We apprehended one of the raiders; it’s how I know Cassius sent them. Anyway, he mentioned the Prolet escape and I hazarded a guess they might make their way to the old ruined cathedral. Atticus was fascinated by the ruins as a young boy, and it’s the obvious landmark.’
He pulled me back into the shadows of a large building, fronted by a series of tall, rusted frames.
‘But we don’t have time to wait …’
My protest was interrupted by the sound of beating, not the striking of a drum or the peal of war. This was something different. It was the approach of an animal. Of hooves. Heading our way.
Fascinated, I watched the dust billow up, automatically predicting the animal’s size and species. It was a skill I’d learned while hunting, assessing the depression of a branch, or displacement of water in order to better know my adversary – or friend.
‘About the size of a horse,’ I muttered, just as the most breathtaking white stallion rounded the bottom of the overgrown street, and throwing its head high, galloped directly towards us.
With its bare back and white mane flying, I could have almost persuaded myself I was standing at the edge of the outside forest, looking out onto the scraggy moorland that stretched out from the wood. Herds of cross-breeds ran there, wild horses with thick coats and ever thicker manes. Outsiders had tried to catch and tame them many times, but no one had had much luck. Before Eli. My eyes swam momentarily, and I forced myself to blink back the pain. To bury the doubt.
As the stallion approached, I recognized it as the same animal that carried August into the Flavium all those months before – and without a saddle I could see it didn’t have typical equine physiology at all.
‘Wings?’ I muttered, only half surprised.
August grinned, as it slowed to a trot.
‘Ornamental only. One of the weaknesses of Pegasus’s genetic coding. The wingspan to body weight ratio isn’t quite right … is it, Bellerophon?
‘Hey boy, easy now … easy,’ he crooned as the impressive animal slowed to canter up and nuzzle right in to his chest.
‘Bellerophon …?’ I grimaced, dimly recalling an ancient myth about a chimera being defeated by a hero with the same name. ‘Guess it had to be, really.’
I reached up to smooth the damp flank of the panting horse. He really was a beautiful animal, standing at least nineteen hands high, with large white wings folded down against his snowy back.
He whinnied as though in confirmation, as August leaned to whisper into its twitching ear.
‘You speak to him?’ I asked, eyebrows high.
‘Yes … mostly about a certain feral cat. Bored him stupid around Europa.’
As if in agreement, Bellerophon whinnied and stamped his feet. August cupped his hands, and I stepped in to them without hesitation. I was astride Bellerophon’s steaming back in a second, his wings folded protectively over my knees. I was surprised by how secure they made me feel.
Remembering Eli’s riding instructions, I leaned forward to reassure him by rubbing between his ears. He whinnied softly in response.
‘Don’t believe the rumours, Bellerophon,’ I muttered, as August leapt up behind me.
Then leaning in to his full thick mane, the three of us flew through the soulless city together, Bellerophon’s swift hooves the only sound of life on the cold broken road.
Twice I thought I heard the hiss of a vulture reaching through the rhythmic lull of his stride. I clenched my eyes, the massacre in the ruined cathedral replaying in relentless detail. I could see the gleam of moonlight reflected in pools of blood, and Max’s body crumpling as Cassius’s arrow buried itself in his back.
Where were they all? Had any of them made it? Had Eli watched the black aquila take us? Or had he assumed I’d abandoned him and run for my life? Could they both be gone?
The thought raked the inside of my chest until it ached anew. I concentrated harder than ever before, but couldn’t feel him at all.
‘Eli,’ I whispered, and felt August’s hand tighten over my own momentarily as we galloped through the wilderness of streets.
Another unrecognizable cry cut through the haze of the morning sun. It was closer now, although the higher, intact buildings in this part of the city precluded a view. It didn’t matter. If they weren’t there waiting, let her eat me, I pleaded. Like the Roman spectators.
Which was exactly the moment Bellerophon reared in panic, and the crumbling buildings tipped sideways. I was aware of August cursing profanely, before the world righted itself in a blur. Then the broken grey merged with a small ball of black and white, before separating itself again. I blinked, and then blinked again. But it was still there, a beautiful ball of flecked fur, cowering among the smouldered remains of an upturned vehicle, and a tall street lantern, snapped in half.
‘Jas!’ I exclaimed in a strangled voice.
I yanked my leg back over Bellerophon’s steaming back, as she let out a yowl of recognition, padding up to me as though it was the most natural thing in the world for her to be here. A snow leopard, stranded, in the middle of the Dead City’s concrete jungle. I threw myself to my knees and buried my face in her warm thick fur. She smelled of our treehouse, of Arafel. Of home.
‘She must have found her way here all by herself,’ I babbled at August, who was towering over us, an incredulous expression pinned to his face.
A bubble of intense emotion reached up my throat, and I inhaled rapidly to stop the heat from spilling over into my eyes. Did this mean I dare hope Eli was still alive? Why else would Jas have come all this way? What had he said to the griffin in the forest?
‘I’ll tell you the same thing I told my wilful, beautiful Jas. If I’m not back in three days’ time, feel free to come and rescue me.’
His words rang sketchily through my head. Her presence wasn’t proof, but Jas was highly intuitive and the fact she was here made me so dizzy with painful hope, I could barely breathe.
‘Where is he, girl?’ I asked, as she nuzzled her thick, broad face into mine. I rubbed her flanks the way she always loved, and found handfuls of matted hair and burrs.
‘And what have you been through to get here?’ I scolded gently. ‘How did you get through the mountains and scorpions all by yourself?’
‘She found a way. And a reason. Hope will lead a new army, when the white-faced tiger rises from the dust.’
August’s words were barely discernible, as though he was telling himself rather than anyone else.
I frowned up at him.
‘When a black aquila falls from the golden sky, it will spark a winter of a thousand fires,’ I responded.
We stared at one another, conscious of the parallels. Of two lives lived so separately, and yet beneath a cloud of silent expectation.
And hadn’t we just witnessed both? We’d plunged into the river in the clutches of a black aquila. And now, Jas was here, like a message from the ancient gods herself.
As if they heard my thoughts, a cluster of trees a little distance away suddenly mushroomed into bright, scorching flames.
A deep shudder passed through me: The Book of Arafel, The Voynich, Cassius, the Ludi Labyrinth, classical sketches, tumbling aquilas and white-faced tigers. Prophecies were drawing breath all around us. And at the centre of it all was the mother of all mythological beasts, Lake, the Hominum chimera. It all felt pre-ordained. Out of control. And terrifying.
Was this what it was all about? The training and the teaching? Had Grandpa known that one day the old prophecies would likely come true? Had he known about Hominum chimera? I recalled his wise, smiling eyes. How much had he known about the real legacy of the Book of Arafel? And what part was I supposed to play in it?
Just what makes you so special? Don’t you know the price on your own feral head?
And there was that damned feeling I was still missing something.
I gritted my teeth and, taking August’s outstretched hand, swung up behind him.
White tigers and winters of a thousand fires. Whatever the myths meant, we weren’t going to fulfil or defy them by sitting here, ignoring the signs. All the questions would have to wait, for now.
Another reptilian cry divided the air, and this time August let Bellerophon have her head. She tore up the road after Jas’s sleek rhythm, through an overgrown crossroads and on again. And Jas seemed to know exactly where she was going, only occasionally rolling her head to one side as though to check we were keeping up.
She tore down a side street of ruined red stone buildings, leaping debris and fallen rubble as easily as though they were roots and fallen trees in the forest. And even the sight of her outside colours in this barren grey landscape gave me hope, a beacon of white leading us through the concrete maze.
A worn, rusted sign reading Nort*ernh*y G*rd**s protruded from a grassy verge, but Jas didn’t stop, and with our heads bent low, we kept pace until we were finally cantering through overgrown forested ground. And although this wasn’t my outside forest, it was clear this had once been an area of beautiful parkland, surrounding an ancient
old-world wall.
‘The Castle of Isca!’ August exclaimed suddenly. ‘Octavia talked of a fortress built into the northern corner of the Exeter Roman walls when I was a boy. Although it was already more than one thousand years old when the bombs fell, the Great War destroyed much of the existing ruin … Rougemont Castle I think she called it!’
Another reptilian cry sounded, and this time it made the leaves and trees quiver.
Could the Prolets and task force members have made it here? I couldn’t face the possibility that we’d been chasing nothing but Cassius’s nightmares.
‘We’re close!’ I whispered, gripping August’s belt and swinging down from Bellerophon mid-canter. I landed stealthily, like a falling cat, and Jas yowled her approval.
‘Tal, what the …?!’ August remonstrated.
‘I’m faster in the trees,’ I yelled, running towards a silver birch that stretched higher than most of the others in this forested area.
I started to climb. And the city slipped away. Here it was just me and the rustle of the trees, telling me who else was in the vicinity. Ears pricked, senses tuned. It was the same high alert I maintained while hunting. And with Jas just behind me, testing the whitened branches with her strong claws, I could almost have believed I was in the forest at home. Except for glimpses of a Roman knight, and the distant silhouette of the domes, stretching up like a huge, segmented insect. Ready to ingest its next prey.
I pulled my eyes away, and concentrated on my leaps and runs among the branches. There was life here too. Not large life, but life all the same. And it made me feel stronger. Feistier. Feral.
Until a glimpse stopped me in my tracks. Five monstrous chimneys brushing the skyline, and the hind part of a scaly tail trailing across them all.
My breath caught painfully, while Jas snarled, her flecked back arching with aggression. She could sense its unnatural air. I reached out to soothe her as I thought rapidly. There had to be a good reason Cassius had seen fit to unleash Lake in her most volatile form. I shinnied back down the tree to wait for August. He’d dismounted and was leading Bellerophon through the dense trees a little way behind.
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