The Black Dream

by Col Buchanan

  ‘Bastards! Bastards every one of you!’

  For a moment only, Aléas was tempted to leave the longhunter hanging there for the rest of the night until he sobered up. But Cole was more likely to fall and break his neck than anything else, or else wake the whole skyport with his swearing, so instead Aléas scrambled down the netting where Cole was hanging and carried on to the deck, where he gathered rope and a few crewmen on watch to help bring the man down.

  Aléas was soaked to the bone by the time they had the now unconscious man returned to his cabin, where Cole briefly awoke in his bunk and asked how he had gotten there and what was happening, all memory of what had transpired between them seemingly forgotten.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  The Line Breaking

  ‘Get a fire crew down to Lynch’s position!’ yelled a Khosian officer, standing in the middle of the street while another fireball hissed over their heads and exploded amongst the tents of the encampment. Soldiers scurried past him in every direction, frantic silhouettes backlit by the blazing inferno that was one of the forts down by the river.

  Juno’s Ferry was about to fall, Shard saw clearly enough, even as the party rode in from the Windrush sore and weary from their travels, hoping only to find shelter for the night. Indeed they could all see it, and they knew then that the Dreamer had been right in what she had seen in her visions back at the council: the Imperial Expeditionary Force attempting to break across the Chilos river.

  Now, upon their return to Juno’s Ferry, every shout from a soldier carried the high note of alarm through the smoking air, while the hospital tents were loud and overflowing with the bloody, shrieking forms of the wounded. From the back of her zel, Shard could hear the gunfire and clashes of battle down by the Chilos, where the Khosian defenders were fighting to hold the fortified bank against barges of imperial attackers. Cannon exchanged shells from dug-in positions and enemy ballista launched fiery missiles trailing arcs of smoke, which seemed to hang above the curve of slow red water – and the many bobbing bodies – before roaring downwards into the defenders.

  More alarming than that though were the sounds of action to the south of the camp, between the river and the road that led to Bar-Khos. Explosions ranged along the line of earthworks there, and above them a pair of skyships were locked in a vicious dogfight, shedding parts of themselves with every strike of cannon fire.

  The party pulled their mounts to a stop as they saw what lay to the south of them, shocked by the sight of what must be Imperials attacking the camp from this side of the Chilos.

  ‘Looks like we’re just in time,’ growled the bodyguard Marsh from behind a scarf he had tied to his face against the smoke and fumes, his zel snorting and shaking its head beneath him. ‘This place is about to fall.’

  Captain Gamorre and the other surviving Volunteers stared at the scene with grim loathing. It was worse than any of them had been expecting.

  ‘You think they’re Romano’s forces, or has the Expeditionary Force put aside its differences at last?’ ventured the sergeant, musing aloud it seemed, for no one could know the answer.

  She knew that Coya was stricken by what he saw, for his voice was thick when he spoke. ‘With Contrarè aid we could be hitting their own flanks even now.’

  A sigh escaped from the silent Dreamer’s lips. All at once the cold air rushed in upon the group to chill them instantly in their cloaks, causing the zels to snort in complaint. Shard had dropped the cell of air around the party that had kept them warm during their long return.

  ‘Can’t you do something here, Shard?’ Coya beseeched her.

  For a long moment she appraised the encampment around her with her steady gaze. ‘Maybe. If you give me some time to work with.’

  ‘And risk getting trapped here?’ Marsh snapped at the pair of them. ‘Not bloody likely. If we want to make it back to Bar-Khos then we need to get out of here now.’

  His words fell like rocks upon the weary rangers and the two medicos, none of whom had the same luxury of leaving. This was their base of operations after all.

  ‘Well, better report in,’ Sergeant Sansun announced, and he nodded to Coya before whirling his zel around.

  ‘Sergeant!’ Coya called after him, and then, more quietly, ‘Captain. All of you.’

  He had their attention.

  ‘I can see our skyboat is no longer waiting for us in the field. It would appear I require an escort back to the city, if you’d be willing.’

  The Volunteers exchanged surprised glances with each other.

  ‘We’ll still need to report in,’ Captain Gamorre replied. ‘Let them know that some of us made it back.’

  ‘You will accompany us though, once you have?’

  They all nodded their consent, save for Xeno, who already had his rifle unwrapped for action.

  ‘Tell them I need you,’ Coya said to the captain. ‘Then meet me back here at the soonest.’

  ‘Very well.’

  She rode off at a canter with Sergeant Sansun following behind. ‘And be quick about it!’ Marsh shouted after the pair. ‘We’ll meet you out on the road!’

  In their wake Shard watched them go, then craned her neck to stare back at the dark impression of the Windrush forest.

  She thought of the man Sky In His Eyes just then. She pictured his startling gaze holding her own and wondered when they would meet again. But the concussions of the raging battle kept jolting through her. Distant screams assaulted her ears.

  Shard turned to survey the fighting taking place around her.

  ‘Probably too late to help much here anyway,’ she murmured into the night.

  Marsh shifted in his saddle.

  ‘Probably.’

  Neither had to say how glad they were, to be soon leaving this place behind.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Release

  A bell was ringing from somewhere outside the prison cell, muffled by the heavy metal slab of the door which Meer had pressed his ear against moments before. The hedgemonk straightened and turned to his fellow captive with a shrug.

  ‘Could be a bird attack on the city,’ the monk suggested. ‘We’re certainly due for one now the rains have come.’

  A grunt sounded from the old farlander slouched against the wall. Ash watched the monk return to a sitting position on the opposite bunk, where the younger man folded his legs together and settled his hands in his lap once more, his eyes lively with excitement. Together, their attention remained focused on the door and the alarm ringing on the other side of it, the only thing of interest to have happened in days.

  *

  ‘He should be fully grown by now, your boy,’ ventured Meer, turning his mind to other things. ‘I wonder if he will be himself again when he wakes?’

  Ash nodded and tried to picture it in his mind, his apprentice alive again, right now at this very moment – but he could only summon up the memory of the strange spectralgraph Meer had sent him, that ghostly image of flesh and bones forming in a glass tank filled with Milk. It was all too unreal to properly grasp.

  A strange sensation, nonetheless, to be this close to Nico yet unable to reach the boy, for his apprentice was in a different leg of the Sky Bridge, and Ash remained firmly imprisoned. Getting to him would be no easy matter.

  But first he had to get Meer out of here, and before the hedgemonk’s increasing need for conversation drove him crazy with distraction. With every passing day of confinement Meer was growing ever more chatty, unable to stop himself it seemed, despite Ash’s lack of responses. Now that it was clear that neither of them were due to be executed, the man’s tensions had gathered instead around the sheer soul-crushing banality of their confinement, and so talk had become a form of escape to him, a welcome release from circumstances beyond his control; much to Ash’s ire, for he had never enjoyed idle chat, was frankly bored by it.

  Meer was peering at him now in anticipation of a response. What to say, though, that hadn’t been said already?

  Instead Ash
climbed onto his bunk to look out of the window, squinting through the rain-smeared glass at the twilight skies over the surrounding peaks.

  At last the rainy season had arrived.

  Between the grilles it was clear how thick the window pane was by the raindrops dribbling down the outside of the glass. Through the downpour he could see the leg of the Sky Bridge sloping down below him and the netting stretching away on either side of it into the haze, its skirts extending over the outer rim of the caldera. Beneath it the streets of the city looked empty, save for the odd smudge of motion that was a speeding groundcar.

  A flash of violet light drew his eyes downwards, but he saw nothing except a lingering afterimage in his vision. Ash stared a while longer but did not see it again.

  Come on. Where are you?

  ‘Maybe we’re only dreaming,’ Meer said out of the blue. ‘Maybe we’re in something like the Black Dream, a fake construction, and they’re only toying with us, hoping we’ll confess our crimes.’

  Over his shoulder, Ash cast him a doubtful look of concern.

  Together they listened to the natural music of the rain, loud now that the alarm had finally stopped ringing. The rain was the only sound of the real world they had.

  Ash thought he glimpsed movements in the grey skies between the peaks, something soaring out there in the obscurity of the rain. He leaned closer to the glass.

  ‘We’re never getting out of here, are we?’ Meer suddenly blurted, and his tone was one of bitter regret, as though he was saddened by all the things he would never again experience, the places he would never travel to, the people he would never meet. ‘They’re going to keep us here until we wither away to husks.’

  ‘Relax. They say you get used to imprisonment after the first few years.’

  Meer managed a smile. Once more Ash settled his chin on the back of his hand and squinted out at the rain.

  ‘You keep standing there at the window watching out for something, but you never tell me what!’

  Ash blinked. Had he just seen something out there through the haze? Wings extended to catch the air?

  Again he glimpsed a winged shape through the haze. His heart skipped a beat.

  They’re here!

  Lightly he hopped from the bed and started to pull on his boots, humming something under his breath.

  ‘What is it?’ the monk demanded when Ash grabbed the head-stand of his bed then dragged it across the floor towards the door, where he flipped it onto its side. ‘What’s going on?’

  Without comment, Ash crouched down behind it for cover.

  ‘Should I be doing that too?’

  ‘I strongly advise it.’

  Meer grabbed up his own boots and crouched down next to him for cover. A toothy grin split his face in two. Tears sparkled in his eyes. ‘It’s an escape, you bastard, isn’t it? All this time you’ve been letting me wallow in my own misery and you’ve had this brewing all along!’

  ‘I told you to hold fast,’ Ash remarked, and lightly punched the monk’s arm.

  Suddenly the cell erupted in a clap of air and noise, and then a wind was blasting through the space, shocking in its coldness, whipping at their clothes and their heads and the fluttering lashes of their eyes. Together they peered curiously over the top of the bed, and saw the gaping hole where the window had once been and the figure dropping in on the end of a line, clad in a strangely bulky suit of brilliant yellow. Violet sparks flashed around his feet.

  ‘Still think you are dreaming?’ Ash asked the monk.

  ‘I knew it!’ Meer declared as Ash dragged him to his feet. ‘I knew it!’

  Amongst the flying rain the figure in yellow yanked down his hood. It was Aléas, and the young Rōshun apprentice raised an eyebrow at the sight of them standing there in a huddle, then smartly tossed a bundle of bright clothing on the floor before their feet.

  ‘You fellows about ready to leave?’

  *

  The suits were bulky and stiff to move in, and with the wind and rain and downrush of hot air it was a desperate climb up the rope ladder to the craft hovering above.

  Cole hauled them up the last few feet into the rear compartment of the flying machine, slapping each of their backs in turn. There they lay gasping and wiping their faces clear as the contraption tilted and turned away from the white leg of the Sky Bridge and the gaping hole of their cell. Through the open doorway behind Cole, the netting over the city flickered by, incredibly close.

  ‘Keep your eyes open,’ called the longhunter across to them, dressed in a shiny yellow suit like their own. His voice was shaky and dark rings underlined his bloodshot eyes, as though the man was badly hungover. ‘We’ve got some big birds up here with us. And they don’t look to be friendly.’

  ‘They’re harmless!’ shouted a voice from the front. ‘Nothing to worry about!’

  With the compartment jostling this way and that, Ash made his way to the front, where the Anwi man Juke sat in one of the forward seats with his hands gripping the controls, grunting and cursing under his breath as he wrestled with the craft. Juke glanced over his shoulder and said, ‘Just the man I was hoping to see.’

  The nose of the craft was transparent, and through the smearing windscreen a far leg of the Sky Bridge was looming closer, shifting left and right in their view as Juke tried to keep them steady. Ash pulled at the tight neck of the suit stretched around his throat, and wondered if stealing the craft had been as easy as the Anwi man had claimed it would be.

  ‘You sure you can fly this thing?’

  ‘Of course I can fly it,’ Juke called back over the noise of the thrusters, and Ash saw the sweat beading on his black skin. ‘I was practising all night at home.’

  ‘He means it,’ Aléas muttered, standing next to Ash with a hand gripping the webbing over his head for balance. ‘I sat and watched him.’

  ‘Hey now, that was only a refresher. I’ve flown plenty. In the Dream I’m a damned good pilot.’

  ‘The Dream?’

  ‘The Black Dream,’ explained Aléas. ‘They can create dreams inside of it somehow. He’s a good pilot in his dreams, is what he’s telling you.’

  ‘I’m coming back to the Free Ports with you by the way!’ shouted Juke. ‘Always wanted to see that big world yonder.’

  ‘What about that woman of yours?’ Ash asked him.

  ‘Triqy? She barely tolerates me. Minus the great sex there isn’t much left between us but air.’

  ‘Here,’ Aléas said. ‘You’ll need these.’

  The young man passed him his sword, which Ash grasped eagerly, then a collection of smaller weapons from a canvas backpack, typical equipment of their trade. Ash fixed them onto the belt of the suit and into the deep pockets on its legs.

  ‘You’re going after your boy!’ Meer shouted in delight. ‘I knew it!’

  ‘Better hold on to something,’ Juke announced as the craft tilted sharply. Through the side doorway a limb of the Sky Bridge swung crazily into view. At once the nose of the craft tilted sharply upwards and Meer went tumbling while the rest of them clung to the straps on the roof. The tail lifted up and then the craft levelled off again, its great wings folding to cup the air.

  ‘I think I see it,’ Cole called out from the doorway, staring down at the slope of the leg. ‘A maintenance gantry with an open door.’

  Rain and wind smashed against his face as Ash leaned out to take his bearings. Below his feet the end of the rope ladder was swaying near the gantry that Cole had just indicated.

  ‘Bring it closer,’ Ash shouted, and he didn’t wait for Juke to respond but climbed down onto the first of the rungs, pausing only to look up at Meer’s startled expression.

  ‘Make certain Juke keeps the craft here until our return, you hear me?’

  ‘Of course! Good luck!’

  With the sword over his back Ash scrambled down the swinging ladder with Aléas and Cole following after him, the city sprawling far below their dripping feet. He glanced down at it once then focused o
n the nearby gantry, made a grab for it but missed. The rain and the bulky suit were hardly helping matters.

  ‘Keep it steady!’

  *

  In a shower of rain, all three staggered through the doorway and stood in a carpeted corridor inside the leg, panting and dripping water while they stared at the tall Anwi woman before them.

  Triqy wore a sky-blue one-piece suit, and her blonde hair was tied back in a bun.

  ‘Where’s Meer, is he safe?’ she asked them nervously.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ answered Aléas. ‘He’s waiting on the Vulture.’

  The Anwi woman’s smile made her look much younger. ‘Here, put this on,’ she told Ash, and slipped another kidney-shaped farcry around his neck and tucked it in against his skin. ‘You can talk with Juke with this. Quickly now. Follow me.’

  Triqy led them down the corridor in their bright yellow suits, past a row of brightly lit windows which looked onto enclosed bays filled with foliage – spindly plants with their roots dangling in bubbling tanks of water – a few figures in white suits and hoods stepping amongst the humid air. The walls of the corridors here were convex and the same blue as her overalls, and her soft slippers padded across the floor with little rips. Their breaths were trails in the cold air.

  Directly behind her, Ash suddenly stopped when she halted before a door next to a window in the wall. Through the glass he could see a chamber and the dim shapes of equipment illuminated by red light. Triqy checked left and right along the corridor then opened the sliding door with a slap to the wall. Warmer air wafted over them.