Terra Nova

by Shane Arbuthnott

  “Molly,” a voice whispered.

  Molly spun around, legs tensing to run. But there was no one behind her. She scanned the area. There were a few people wandering among the memorial stones, but none of them were paying her the slightest attention.

  “Molly, here.”

  The voice was a deep rumble that tickled her feet. In fact, it seemed to be coming from the ground itself. It took her a moment to understand.

  “Toves?” she whispered. He was a terric spirit who had helped her, but she hadn’t seen him since before the Gloria Mundi.

  “Yeah. Now, can we get out of here? There are sniffers around.”

  “Sniffers?”

  “Ferratics.”

  Molly’s eyes snapped up, searching the alleys. Ferratics were spiritual machines designed to hunt rogue spirits, but she’d had plenty of them hunting her too. Even the word sent a jolt of fear through her chest.

  “Go south a ways. We’ll talk there,” Toves said.

  Molly started walking. She tucked her hands into her pockets, hunched her shoulders and tried her best to disappear as she made her way into the crowded streets.

  The memorial was situated in the commercial district of Terra Nova. Molly took a risk every time she came here—more people meant more chances to be recognized, and this was the busiest part of the city. The floating island of the docks loomed far above, airships arriving and departing constantly. The docks were connected to the ground by the umbilical, a steel cable a dozen yards thick, with cable cars swarming over it like bugs on the bark of a rotting tree. Everywhere there were shopkeepers hawking their wares; sailors on leave from the airships, pockets full of fresh coin; and pickpockets hoping to relieve them of it. Molly kept her head down as she moved south in the direction Toves had sent her.

  After a few blocks she started to relax. Shops gave way to houses and then warrens of broken-down buildings. The crowds of people were replaced with detritus, heaped in corners and lying in the streets. Weary faces peered out from windows. An old man sat on a stoop, hammering tacks into the sole of a cracked leather shoe. He looked up at her, staring openly, but said nothing.

  “Alley on your left,” said Toves from the ground. She turned, trying to look like she knew where she was going.

  The alley was crowded with old boxes crumbling from age and weather. She made her way around the piles to the brick wall at the end of the alley. She checked behind her for watching eyes and then crouched down.

  “Are you here?”

  Beside her, the ground crumbled and reformed itself into a pile of stones. The pile formed legs and pulled itself up.

  “Should be fine here,” he said. “Sniffers never come this way.”

  “Why aren’t you in Knight’s Cove? It’s not safe here for you.”

  The pile of stones rumbled. “Don’t have to tell me. ’M not new at this.” Toves’s voice was like stones rubbing together, and it made her bones vibrate uncomfortably.

  “But why?”

  “Why do you think? Looking for you. Watched your house for a while, but you didn’t come, and then Disposal set up camp there and that was that. The memorial was the only place I thought I might catch you.”

  The spirit fell silent. Molly waited, but the stones didn’t even move. “Toves?”

  “Gimme a minute. This ain’t easy for me. Not used to asking for help.”

  “You…want help? My help?”

  The stones pulled themselves up until they towered over Molly, standing on two legs as thick as pillars.

  “I want to go home. Want to get out of this godforsaken place.”

  “You can’t get away? But there are lots of terric fonts not far from—”

  “Oh, well then, wish I had thought of that. I’ll just nip down. Ta, Molly.”

  “You don’t have to get pissy about it.”

  The stones hunched lower. “Don’t know much about terric fonts, do you?”

  Molly shook her head. “Spent all my time with the aetheric ones.”

  “Terric fonts don’t move around. They sit in the ground, spittin’ out nice juicy spirits like me from time to time. Which is why humans have set up camp at every terric font for a hundred miles, with their big iron drills and ferratics and enough traps to hold every spirit on the other side.”

  “So you can’t go alone?”

  “Not if I don’t want my rocks chewed into dust by some big metal beastie.”

  “You don’t think you could find an undiscovered font if we got you out of Terra Nova?”

  “I’d bet my boulders Haviland Industries has got every font this side of the Atlantic staked and claimed.”

  “And you think they’d all be manned?”

  “Yeah. Some more than others, of course. Maybe we could find a nice quiet one somewhere, but I wouldn’t know where to look.”

  “Okay.” Molly took a breath and closed her eyes. Can we do that? Break into a harvesting operation just to get one spirit home? It would be a big risk. Even without Disposal there, the harvesting crew and the ferratics would be a lot worse than the factory foremen they’d faced so far. But we were looking for a new target. It would help a lot of spirits if we could actually shut down a harvest. Oh sod it, I wish Kier or Da were here.

  “I think we can do that. Try to help, I mean. But I have to talk to the others first.”

  Toves heaved himself up onto his pillar legs. “Fair enough. You do that, then come pick me up when you’re ready.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you soon. Are you okay getting back to Knight’s Cove?”

  “No, Moll, I’m scared. Please hold my hand so the big bad Disposal blokes don’t—”

  “Okay, okay, I get it! You’re fine. I’ll come see you.”

  The stones flowed down into the ground with a scraping noise, leaving behind no trace of them in the dirt. Molly made her way to the mouth of the alley to make sure no one had heard the conversation. She ducked back inside, closed her eyes and felt her way through the connection she shared with Legerdemain. She tugged at it like a rope and felt a returning tug. Then she sat to think things through until Ariel arrived.

  THREE

  They flew close to the water, the choppy waves below occasionally rising up to slap the ship’s hull. The air here was damp and salty, but Molly was getting used to that. They had been spending more and more time over the ocean, where Disposal wasn’t likely to catch them. There were places on the island around Terra Nova where they could be safe—the city itself only covered a small part of the land mass, despite its enormous size. But the island was dotted with harvesting operations, and you never knew when you might run across an aetheric harvester. They all felt more at ease out here, over the water.

  “You really want to break into Haviland Industries?” Rory said, pulling Molly’s thoughts back to the present. “I mean, we pull some crazy stunts, but this…”

  “It makes sense,” Kiernan said. “We need to know where a font is and where we’re likely to find the least resistance. For that information, there’s only one place to go.”

  “And once you get to their offices, how do you get in?” Molly’s father asked. He hadn’t stopped frowning since Molly proposed this new plan.

  “Croyden,” she said.

  “The infusionist.” Ariel’s voice was cold. Molly realized that the last time Ariel had seen Croyden, he had stuffed her inside a spiritual machine—at the request of Molly and her father.

  “He helped me with the Gloria Mundi,” Molly said. “He might be willing to help again.”

  “He just might at that,” her father said. “So when do we go?”

  “Tonight, after dark. But I don’t think we should all go.”

  Her father’s frown got even deeper.

  “Of course we shouldn’t all go,” Rory said. “We can’t descend en masse into the lion’s den. We’ll be spotted in a second.”

  Molly nodded. “I think it should—”

  “No,” her father said gruffly. “You can’t go alone, Molly.
And don’t pretend that wasn’t what you were going to suggest.”

  “Actually, I was going to say me and Ariel. I need her help.”

  Her father huffed. “Take Rory with you too. He’s better at this sneaking-around stuff than you are.”

  “Always knew I’d make you proud, Da,” Rory said.

  Their father just scowled. “I’d tell you to be careful, but you wouldn’t bloody listen anyway. At least have some supper before you go.” He turned and went belowdecks, heading for the mess. Molly’s brothers followed after.

  Molly turned back to the waves for a few moments. She watched them churn, the light from Legerdemain reflected and refracted on their surface.

  I really should eat something. She turned away from the ocean and followed her family below.

  A few hours later they were sailing fast through the upper atmosphere, far above the clouds. Molly’s breathing quickened—a response, she knew, to less oxygen getting into her body. Usually Legerdemain and Ariel—and Molly herself, changed as she was by her connection to Legerdemain—gave off enough oxygen to counter the higher altitudes. She knew the airship must be very high indeed for her to feel the effects.

  Below them the lights of Terra Nova appeared through gaps in the clouds, tinged brown by the city’s smog. That looks like the industrial district. We must be close to the docks now.

  Legerdemain dipped his wings down, cupping them to catch the air, and the ship slowed to a stop. “Looks like this is where we get off,” Rory said. “Ariel, are you sure you can carry us both down?”

  “I am not,” she said. “I have never tried to carry more than one person. But I believe I can get you to the docks safely.”

  Rory swallowed.

  “Let’s not wait,” Molly said. “The longer we’re here, the more chance there is that Legerdemain will be spotted.” She looked up at the huge spirit, his pale-blue belly glowing against the dark sky. She could feel Legerdemain’s fear for her through the connection they shared. He did not want her to go, though he would not try to stop her. Over the past year their connection had only grown, until at times the spirit felt like an extension of herself, or she an extension of him. She tried to send reassurance back to him, but he could feel the anxiety she was masking.

  Molly and Rory walked to the gunwale and each put a foot on it. Far, far below, Molly could see glimmers of the docks through the clouds.

  “That’s a long way down,” Rory said.

  “Only a couple of miles, I’d say,” Molly replied.

  “If you are ready,” Ariel said. She broke apart into a bright-blue cloud and wrapped herself around both of them. Rory took Molly’s hand.

  “Try not to move too much, please,” Ariel said.

  A small whimper escaped Rory’s lips, and then he stepped off the ship with Molly. Ariel’s winds tightened around them, pulling against gravity. Molly looked up and saw the ship shrinking away above them, disconcertingly fast. She looked back down. “Are we falling a little too fast, Ariel?”

  Rory’s hand tightened, making her fingers ache.

  “It will have to do,” Ariel replied breathlessly.

  “What do you mean, it will have to do?” Rory hissed.

  “You are much heavier than your sister,” Ariel said. “The difference had not occurred to me.”

  “It’s okay,” Molly said, though she felt a lump growing in her throat. “If we find somewhere soft to land, we’ll be fine.”

  They were nearing the clouds now. As they entered, the moist air chilled Molly’s skin, setting her shivering. Her brother’s face was hazy through the thick cloud, but she could see that his eyes were screwed shut.

  They emerged from the clouds, and Terra Nova appeared beneath them, huge and raucous. Just below their feet was the floating island of the docks. From above it almost looked like a huge flower, its inner districts dark and decrepit, its outer circle more lively and colorful, the airships and floating cranes like bees buzzing around the petals. The tangled metal cords that made up the umbilical curved away below the docks like the flower’s stem. The endless lights of the city spread out around them as far as Molly could see.

  “Take us to the center of the docks, Ariel,” Molly said. “All the shops there are boarded up, so no one should see us.” She squeezed her brother’s hand. “Almost there now.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he wheezed.

  The strands of Ariel’s body wrapped tighter around them, winds as strong as ropes digging in to Molly’s skin. The roofs of the buildings were coming up fast now. And they seemed to be accelerating.

  “Ariel? Are you okay?”

  “I…am…trying…” The spirit’s voice was a whisper now.

  “Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap,” intoned her brother.

  They were falling too fast—not quite in free fall, but they would break bones landing like this. Molly cast her eyes around.

  There was a groan from Ariel. “Molly, I cannot—”

  “I know! I’m looking!” Molly scanned the area and finally found what she was looking for. Behind one of the buildings, several large nets were strung between wooden poles. “There! Ariel, take us over that roof!” Molly summoned the nearest winds, which swept in around them and buoyed them up above the building.

  “Don’t fly into the nets, Ariel,” Molly warned. “They’re iron-laced. Just drop us.”

  “I don’t believe I’ll have a choice,” Ariel said.

  “Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap,” Rory went on.

  They skimmed across the roof of the shop and out into the yard. There was a small net directly below them, stretched out horizontally between four posts.

  “Drop us now!” Molly said.

  Ariel released them, and Rory yelped as they fell into the waiting net. They landed on the hard ropes, and then the entire net slid down off its poles, dumping them onto the ground.

  “Ow,” Rory said, his leg draped over Molly’s stomach. “You’re not allowed to make our travel plans anymore.”

  He stood and disentangled himself, working his left elbow up and down. Ariel descended, reassuming her human-like form, though looking a little ragged.

  “Anyone see us?” Molly asked.

  “Not that I could tell. Are either of you hurt?”

  “No, that was perfect. Croyden’s shop is just a few streets away.”

  They ran to their destination through the ill-lit streets. The infusionist’s shop was closed and locked, but Molly could hear a rhythmic banging coming from inside.

  “I should not be here for this meeting,” Ariel said. “If you are wrong about the infusionist’s sympathies, it would go badly for me. When you need me, call to Legerdemain and I will come.”

  Molly nodded and watched Ariel ascend to the clouds before knocking on the door. The banging inside did not stop. Rory pounded on a window. There was a moment of silence.

  “The store is closed!” someone shouted from inside.

  Molly recognized Croyden’s dry voice, even through the door. “It’s Molly, Mr. Croyden.”

  More silence. Molly cast her eyes down the narrow street but saw no one.

  “Think he’s called Disposal yet?” Rory whispered.

  The door suddenly swung open. “In, in!” Croyden hissed. Rory hurried inside, and Molly followed.

  The shop was just as she remembered it, cluttered from floor to ceiling with machinery. A row of chairs for customers sat empty to her right. Farther inside the shop the machinery was piled so high that she could not even see the workshop at the back.

  Croyden closed the door and threw the bolt. He turned and stared down at them from his considerable height, leaning to the left because of the stiff metal apparatus that stood in place of his right leg. His frown was so deep that she could barely see his eyes.

  “I never expected to see you here again. I thought you smarter than that,” he said.

  Molly nodded, unsure what to say.

  “What are you doing here? On the docks, of all places?” Croyde
n asked. “No, wait, don’t answer that. Come away from the windows.”

  He led them through the clutter to the small clear space of his workroom, hung with tools and half filled with the iron-plated table where he infused spirits into machines. With a grunt he sat down on a low bench, his mechanical leg sticking out straight in front of him.

  “Now,” he said. “What on earth are you doing in my shop?”

  “We…” Molly took a deep breath. “We need your help again.”

  Croyden let out a huff of air that might have been a laugh. “The last time I helped you, the greatest airship in the history of the world ended up a twisted wreck.”

  “Yeah,” Molly said. “Thanks.”

  This time he laughed in earnest. “You know, you don’t look nearly as murderous as the posters suggest. No bloodshot eyes. No fangs.”

  “Just me,” Molly said.

  Croyden nodded. “Just you.” He sighed, then reached down and rolled up the pant leg that covered his mechanical leg, revealing its long piston and a dizzying array of gears and springs. He reached up to the wall above him and pulled a wrench off a hook, using it to turn a nut on the side of his thigh. “And how does ‘just you’ know I won’t turn you in?”

  “Because you have a history with our father, and you helped me before.”

  “I don’t think any amount of friendship with your father could warrant helping the most wanted criminals in Terra Nova,” Croyden said. “I could be locked away, my shop closed, everything taken from me, just for talking to you. I owe your father much, but not that.”

  Molly didn’t respond, watching him work on his leg. The metal piston gleamed in the light in a strange way. She’d taken it for iron the first time she’d seen it, but this didn’t look like iron. He finished unwinding the nut and pulled a plate off the small box that sat near his hip. She had thought it was a spirit trap, but as she watched, he pulled a pitcher of water out from under his bench and refilled a reservoir inside the box. He removed a small metallic lump from a separate compartment and placed this inside the stove in the corner. He took out another lump from the stove, this one red-hot, and put it inside his leg. As it slid in, a hiss of steam escaped from the heel of his foot plate, and the piston flexed. Croyden began putting himself back together.