The Ice House

by Tim Clare

  He was gibbering, rubbing his cheek against the tiles.

  ‘Morgellon.’ She paused, gave him time to gather his wits. ‘I know you have a ship. Where. Is. It?’

  Morgellon lay panting, moaning. He was in denial. He thought he could hide and this would all go away. She lifted the sword and prepared to stab herself again.

  ‘North.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘North!’ He clutched at his belly, his face screwed up with pain. ‘A lagoon about twenty muh . . . twenty miles north!’

  ‘You know if you’re lying to me it doesn’t matter how far away you run – I can still hurt you. I’ll rip my eyes out.’

  ‘I’m not lying!’

  She looked down at the creature beneath her, wretched, craven, utterly selfish, and felt only disgust. Killing him would be a kindness. The centuries had left him hungry and deformed. She raised the sword.

  And hesitated.

  While Morgellon lived, he bore her pain. There was work to complete. Until she found a suitable replacement, was it wise to throw away such power?

  He cowered in her shadow. She tossed the sword to the floor. She had no appetite for vengeance.

  She turned away and left him. She could hear rats pattering amongst the bodies. Sarai had delivered her from her suffering. Now she must recover Sarai and Gideon and make her escape. It was not enough to merely free herself – she must liberate everyone. The work had to be finished.

  No matter the cost.

  CHAPTER 25

  BURNING AS IT WERE A LAMP

  Through dark palace hallways they ran, down into the prayer caves, through the open drain where the harka guard lay unconscious and down into the wide amber tunnels of the old lanta city. All the way, Father staggered and mumbled, clawing at himself like a caged circus bear.

  ‘Come on,’ said Delphine, beckoning. ‘Just a little farther.’ That was a lie, of course. Her feet were blistered, her limbs rubbery with fatigue. Every time he stopped, or looked behind him, or started punching himself, she wanted to cry. Black, greasy smoke wicked off his body, his shoulder spitting and popping like pork fat.

  They stopped at the map Martha had drawn in the dust. Butler set down Sarai, spent a moment checking her over.

  ‘There’s the faintest of pulses,’ he said. ‘We need to get her out of here, fast.’ He nodded at the map. ‘The route we entered by is blocked, and even if we clear it, there’s a simarak nest on the other side, so we need another way down to the sewers. There’s this room to the east.’ He tapped the floor with his toe, indicating three concentric circles linked to the main body of tunnels by a short passage running east to west. Little squares like gear teeth came off the largest circle. ‘It was my original choice for getting to the palace. It appears to have lots of small rooms attached to it. Might have been a communal living space of some description. It looked like there was some sort of opening in the east wall.’

  ‘Or maybe you could do your wall thing, Martha,’ said Alice.

  The comb-heads of Martha’s antennae were quivering to a blur, her eyes a piercing ruby. She bopped her fist once. She was rarely this edgy. Delphine bit back her misgivings, pushed on.

  As they continued the hall narrowed, the architecture taking on strange, captivating geometries. Reliefs showed Fibonacci spirals like giant nautilus shells. Curves tessellated and intersected in a way that confused her brain, making her misgauge the hall’s dimensions.

  With Sarai slung over his shoulder, Butler led them into a series of cramped, winding corridors where the path split and split again. The ceiling was low and Delphine had to stoop. She glanced down and saw the floor was incised with complex mandalas, shapes within shapes, many-petalled lotuses locking together like a vast chain. Looking at them made her nauseous. Father was running his fingers along the grooves, muttering to himself.

  ‘No mud, no lotus,’ he said, nodding, wincing. ‘The great wheel turns in the ocean.’

  Butler clicked and walked, clicked and walked, his pistol drawn, his lantern swaying in his grasp. He never tired, never slowed, pausing only to consult with Martha. Presently, the winding, branching paths straightened out into a short corridor with a sloping floor and a gutter running down the middle. The desiccated bodies of tiny insects crackled under her boots. Things moved in the darkness; eyes glinted, paws skittered. She spotted rat runs in the dirt, shallow trenches close to the walls. The sound of running water grew louder.

  They emerged in a wide, echoing cavern. Butler’s lantern glow rainbowed in a fine mist. The air was warm.

  Lamplight picked out splashes of an amphitheatre-like chamber. Huge cobwebs lay in thick membranes over everything, but unlike the web in the tunnels, these looked dry and ancient. Delphine and the others were standing on a narrow walkway that ran east to west over a deep, bowl-like depression in the floor. Giant gnarled fungi grew around a bubbling pool covered in red algae, spilling from the edges in crusted heaps.

  Delphine moved her Maglite across the far wall. All round the room were circular openings, each about four feet wide, shrouded in webs. What looked like rotten tapestries dangled from hooks. She swung the light up to the ceiling. She could make out a pattern etched into the amber stone.

  Overlapping circles created geometric flowers or stars that bulged out like flesh straining against a net. There were eight discs made from dark and light woods fused together, each about twelve feet in diameter, appearing to represent the phases of the moon. From the sunken star in the centre, four black arms spiralled out in perfect golden ratios, spreading, consuming the pattern.

  A strange sickness came over her as she looked – a crawling sensation inside her throat. This image was just like the one that used to cover the ceiling of the banqueting hall at Alderberen Hall. Only much bigger.

  Butler was crossing the walkway. ‘There’s the bugger.’ He pointed his gun at an archway in the opposite wall, about ten feet across and six high, and blocked with rubble. The archway itself was made of wood, the amber stone around it bulging oddly. He turned to Patience. ‘Think you can shift that lot, DeGroot?’

  Patience patted her angel-arm. ‘Depends how far back it goes. I’ll need a few minutes, at least.’

  Father grabbed his scalp and let out a moan. Smoke rose from between his fingers, his hair twisting away to ash.

  The temperature dropped. The air thickened with white mist. Delphine knew what was coming. Oh no.

  Arthur walked through the rubble as if it were smoke, his head down, his eyes fixed on Delphine. Stark featherless wings spread from his shoulders, trailing vapour.

  ‘I warned you,’ he said.

  ‘I ignored you,’ said Delphine, chambering a round.

  ‘Yes, I thought you might.’ His smiled. ‘That’s why I told you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I hoped you’d interfere,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t sure what you’d do, exactly, but I’d seen the pattern. I knew you were essential. And you hate me, so it made sense that if I begged you not to do something, you’d do the opposite.’

  ‘Liar.’

  ‘Yes, well. You killed my father, my grandfather, you tried to kill my mother and you tried to kill me. By comparison I’ve always treated you pretty decently. But I said it would end badly for you, and I meant that. You’ve served your purpose. I can’t have you robbing the world of its last chance for peace. Sarai is coming with me, and your father is coming with me. Heaven is more important than your hate.’ His jacket flared as he turned. ‘Gideon!’

  Father jerked alert. ‘Arthur?’

  ‘Bearing up all right, old stick?’

  Father’s eyes were wild and bloodshot. ‘Where am I? Is this real?’

  ‘Afraid so.’

  ‘Where’s Sarai?’

  ‘Auntie? Bad news on that front, I’m afraid. She’s dead.’

  Delphine had to shield her face from a great wave of heat that pulsed from her father. Sheets of cobweb above him fluttered in the updraft.

  ‘No!’
he said.

  ‘Killed,’ said Arthur. He pointed at Delphine. ‘It was her fault.’

  Father gripped his skull. ‘No!’ Skin blistered beneath his palms. ‘No!’

  ‘Stop it!’ yelled Delphine. She turned to her father. ‘Daddy, it’s me. Don’t listen to him. She’s just hurt, that’s all. He’s lying!’

  ‘She died in terrible pain, Giddy. She won’t be able to help you any longer.’

  Another blast of heat forced Delphine back. ‘No! No! No!’

  ‘Please!’ Delphine waded into it, striding towards him. ‘You have to believe me. We’re getting her to safety.’ Her skin was burning. ‘Daddy! It’s me. It’s Delphy.’

  Butler shot him through the head. The bullet punched a neat hole between Father’s eyes. He dropped with a whump.

  The heat dissipated at once, replaced by lukewarm mist.

  ‘Sorry, Ms Venner. New strategy.’ He turned the gun on Arthur. ‘Do fuck off.’ He fired. A puff of dust went up from the rubble in the doorway.

  A green laser sight cut through Arthur’s head, lighting up the mist curling off his side-parted brown hair. Delphine stared, stunned. Father lay crumpled on the ground.

  Arthur glowered. ‘You’re not very bright, are you?’

  ‘Don’t try to intimidate me, boy.’ Butler fanned his leathery wings in opposition to Arthur’s. His lips peeled back, exposing purple gums and a maw full of needle fangs. ‘I’ve faced peers with powers that far exceeded your own. Ask me how many still live.’

  For a moment, Arthur’s glare faltered. Delphine snapped awake. Without thinking, she ran to Father’s side.

  ‘Father!’ She touched him. His skin was warm, not burning. The hole in his brow was filling with dark, clotted blood.

  ‘Delphine!’ Arthur flicked his arms outwards and a perfume of ice joined the mist. ‘You wilful, spiteful little brat. I told you this won’t do.’ He began marching across the walkway towards her. Ice marbled the stone. ‘I’ll kill you myself.’

  CHAPTER 26

  A FOUNTAIN OF WATER IN

  THE WILDERNESS

  Butler set Sarai down on the walkway and in the same fluid movement sidestepped to block Arthur. ‘No.’

  Arthur did not break stride. He stepped through Butler, their forms briefly merging before his nose, eyes and mouth surfaced from the back of Butler’s head. Hoarfrost crusted on Butler’s fur and the tips of his ears.

  Arthur was grinning, the fingers of his right hand performing predatory arpeggios. ‘Now, you little canker,’ he said, ‘I may not be strong, but I’m sure a few fingers briefly manifesting in your brain will be quite sufficient to k—’

  Butler turned and lunged at him with a hand trailing blue smoke. His fingers wafted into Arthur’s head. Arthur’s neck snapped back.

  Cobalt vapour tongued off Butler’s fur. Arthur gaped in frozen horror. Butler licked his fangs, seething with appetite.

  Arthur’s eyes went blank. He curled in on himself and was gone.

  Butler stumbled forward, closing his fist on nothing. ‘Damn!’ A twist of smoke rose from his fingers. ‘I almost had him.’ He sniffed, looked up. ‘I took at least an hour.’ He examined his fingers, shook his hand out.

  Delphine felt a sudden heat rising from Father. The wound in his head had sealed up.

  ‘He’s waking up!’

  Butler shot him again, the exit wound splattering black blood and bone fragments across the floor. Delphine and Alice both jumped.

  ‘Stop that!’ said Delphine. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Keeping us and him safe,’ said Butler, holstering his pistol and picking up Sarai. ‘DeGroot – get shifting those rocks. Cross. Venner. We need to keep Gideon unconscious. It’s for his – and our – own good. Use your guns if you have to, but a blade’s better. Don’t waste ammo.’

  ‘I’m not . . .’ Delphine was shaking. Oh God, tears? Not now. For Christ’s sake.

  ‘Delphine.’ Alice put an arm round her. ‘I’ll do it. He’s right. It’s what’s best. You . . . go and help Patience.’

  Delphine pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to suck the feelings back down. She let Alice bring her in for a hug, slapped Alice on the back and disengaged.

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘Let’s bloody finish this.’

  Hagar sprinted through the dark of the lanta city, clutching a candle in her gloved hand. She ran as fast as she could, and though her breath grew short, her legs did not ache, and her lungs did not burn.

  Testing her new powers, she felt about for a mind, something to sinuate round, to slip inside. The action was unfamiliar – at first, she sensed nothing amongst the dust and blackness, save her own clumsy attempts at connection. Dominating Morgellon had been an instinctive act – she knew his mind as she knew her own. Learning how to exploit her powers to their fullest with strangers would take practice.

  She slowed down as she followed the tracks through branching tunnels. Instead of grasping at random, she let her mind relax, allowing her consciousness to swim in the still, dark passageways. After some time, she became aware of a second presence. She resisted the temptation to lunge at it, instead allowing her thoughts to float wider and wider until they enveloped it. There. A mind. She allowed her control to tighten around it, until she could feel the flow of thoughts.

  They burned.

  Patience opened a godstuff portal in the floor. Fleshy limbs pushed out of it and hooked into the rubble blocking their escape, while Delphine loosened rocks with the pommel of her sickle.

  ‘Okay,’ said Patience. ‘Get back.’

  Delphine backed off. Patience heaved and wrenched. They repeated the process until, at last, a whole section of rubble and dirt collapsed into the portal, rocks spilling out the other side. Several large rats skittered through the gap.

  Patience had cleared a hole slightly bigger than an adult. Delphine kicked away a few stones and shone her gun-light through the gap.

  ‘Looks like another tunnel. Stone rather than this amber stuff. Can’t see how far it goes.’ The beam winked off dozens of rats’ eyes. The rats were sitting on their haunches along the tunnel’s edges, calmly staring. She was too tired to feel anything but a mild disquiet.

  ‘One way to find out,’ said Butler. ‘Patience, would you mind carrying Sarai? I’ll hold Gideon and watch he doesn’t wake up.’

  He hauled Father over his shoulder. Father’s head flopped to one side and Delphine saw the bloody purple-blue hole in his eye socket.

  She heard a noise, like the flapping of silk. Butler frowned, then his ears swivelled. He swung Father’s limp body aside with one arm and with the other pulled his pistol. A blast of putty-coloured flesh rushed past Delphine and slapped it out of his hand. Butler pivoted with the blow and reached for his belt in one clean movement. A second tendril went for his throat. He pulled his serrated dagger and slashed in an upward arc, slashing the limb in half. The stump whipped about like a hosepipe. The flesh began peeling back, extruding a long blade of pearlescent keratin. Butler moved to parry and with a sharp flick it severed his head from his shoulders.

  His body took a couple of steps and toppled from the walkway.

  Delphine spun round. Patience stood there in the doorway, underlit by her dropped lantern. Her angel-arm slapped to the floor, a sticky liquid mess.

  Delphine raised her shotgun. ‘I knew it!’

  Patience lifted a shaking hand to her own cheek, touched it. She shook her head frantically.

  ‘It wasn’t me!’ She drew her liquefied angel-arm back up into an amalgamated lump. ‘I couldn’t control it, it just—’

  Delphine fired. The noise was a thunderclap. The solid slug punched a hole in Patience’s stomach, throwing her backwards through a veil of webs, into the heaped rubble. She dropped to her hand and knees. Delphine chambered another round and fired again, this time through the head.

  Delphine looked down at the Remington. It shone with hallucinogenic clarity. She had not meant to do that. Her hands had acted on
their own.

  ‘Delphine?’ Alice was staring at her.

  ‘Alice!’ Panic rose in a numbing rush. ‘Something’s wrong!’

  Alice looked at something off to her left. Her face fell. Delphine spun round.

  Standing in the western doorway was the little girl, Hagar.

  Delphine dropped to a crouch. Hagar was wearing that familiar black, wide-brimmed hat. Her hair fell about her face in sandy tangles. She was grubby, splattered up one side of her face with gore, her shirt and gilet in tatters. She flicked something gummy off her fingers.

  Delphine kept very still, her finger flat against the shotgun’s trigger guard. She could see Alice and Father out of the corner of her eye. Best to stall.

  ‘What do you want?’ said Delphine.

  The girl strolled out onto the walkway. ‘Peace.’ In her scratchy, ruined voice, the word sounded strangely melancholy. ‘And for that I’m going to need your father.’

  CHAPTER 27

  EXTINCTION BURST

  The girl with the gun crouched, waiting. She was crusted in filth, her clothes and skin shades of grey-brown, her hair stuck in stiff peaks. She looked like a member of one of the vesperi clans House Dellapeste had hunted down in the Avalonian jungle. Feral. Full of savage reproach.

  To her right, a young girl with white-blond hair knelt at Gideon’s side, holding a sophisticated-looking pistol from the other world. Gideon was rousing – Hagar dimly apprehended the tumult of his thoughts. Gently, she disengaged his body from the rush of feelings; the fires across his flesh cooled.

  ‘Please bring Gideon and Sarai to me,’ she said. ‘I’ll take care of them now.’

  ‘They’re hurt,’ said the white-haired girl.

  ‘I have a background in medicine.’

  The white-haired girl glanced at Delphine.

  ‘I’m his daughter,’ said Delphine. ‘He needs me. I’m going to make him better.’

  ‘If I stop now, all his pain will have been for nothing. We’re so close. He’s going to help me save the world.’

  ‘I don’t care about the fucking world. Let. Him. Go.’