by Lian Tanner
Her moment of triumph had passed all too quickly. Krill was pleased with her, because he could spend his time doing what he loved – feeding hungry folk. And the town bratlings had taken to addressing Dolph very respectfully as ‘Witch’, and bringing her hand-polished stones and plaited reeds, which were the only gifts their grateful families could afford.
But Adm’ral Deeps, after that first moment of astonishment, had grown less and less impressed.
‘Maybe there were other storerooms, that Missus Slink missed,’ said Dolph. ‘They’re probably sitting in there laughing at us as they eat their breakfast.’
Krill looked at her shrewdly. ‘The adm’ral been having a go at you, has she?’
‘She said this morning if I’d only talked to her, instead of going off on my own, she’d have made sure of the well and a dozen other things I didn’t think of. Except I couldn’t talk to her, Krill, she wouldn’t listen to me. And I wasn’t trying to escape my duty or get glory for myself, I really wasn’t. I know she and Hump are in charge, and that’s fine. I just wanted to speed things up a bit.’
‘Hmph.’ Krill folded his arms across his chest. ‘I’ve got a lot of respect for the adm’ral, but Sunker ways are different, that’s for sure. It was a clever thing you did, lass, and don’t let anyone tell you different.’
‘Not clever enough,’ said Dolph.
‘We don’t know that yet, do we? Wait and see, lass. Wait and see.’
THE DREADFUL IDEA
The day was mild, but Gwin was so cold that she could hardly feel her hands. She kept trying to make some sort of sensible plan for rescuing Papa, but all Nat would talk about were wild strategies that would only have worked if the three of them were each ten feet tall and as strong as a team of oxen.
Gwin shook her head as he outlined yet another impossible scheme. ‘They’ll be armed, Nat. They’ll have cudgels. Maybe bows and arrows—’
‘We’ve got a skinning knife,’ said her brother. ‘I’ll use it if you won’t.’
‘But—’ began Hilde.
‘But we’re not fighters,’ Gwin said quickly, just in case Hilde had been going to say something about Nat’s blindness. That was what was driving him, and any mention of it would only make him worse.
She almost wished Hilde had gone with Hob. Gwin didn’t want to have to think about anyone else, not right now. Papa was the only one who mattered.
‘We can’t save him by force,’ she said. ‘We have to do something clever.’
She’d known this from the beginning, but it didn’t help. In the old stories, the villains always had some sort of weakness, and the heroes used it to defeat them. But what weakness did the Devouts have? They were armed, strong and brutal. If it had been anyone except Papa in their clutches, Gwin would have—
Beside her, Nat tensed. ‘They’re coming. I can hear them!’
It was like a bucket of cold water thrown in Gwin’s face. She shook herself and said, ‘Then we must hide.’
‘The cave,’ said Hilde. ‘The one where we spent the first night.’
Gwin shook her head. ‘We have to hide Spindle and the cart too. Maybe up the track further? How far will the Devouts go?’
None of them knew the answer to that, any more than they knew why the Devouts were coming this way instead of heading straight back to the Citadel with their prisoner.
‘Nat,’ said Gwin, ‘will you and Hilde take Spindle up the track? A mile or so?’
She was afraid her brother would say no. But although the shadow of recklessness still flickered across his face, he nodded.
‘You’d better take Wretched too,’ she said. ‘And the pigeon. I’ll hide somewhere near here. Perhaps I’ll spot a weakness. Then we can—’ Her voice trailed off.
Then we can what? Sneak up on them? Bargain with them?
Hilde pushed her pale hair behind her ear. ‘Why don’t you come up the track with us? We can keep ahead of the masters. They’ll have to give up sometime.’
‘Then we’ll learn nothing,’ said Gwin. ‘It’s not enough to stay ahead of them. We must save Papa.’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Hilde, ‘but—’
‘Go,’ said Gwin. ‘Just go.’
Nat drove Spindle up the track, with Gwin sweeping away the hoof and wheel marks. When they reached the path that led to the mechanical boy, she gave the broom to Hilde, saying, ‘Don’t leave a single mark.’
She kissed Spindle’s ears and Wretched’s nose. Then, as the ox-cart rolled away, with the pigeon perched on Hilde’s shoulder, she scrambled up the steepish section of the path and found a spot where she was hidden from below.
Countless heartbeats later, she heard the distinctive sound of stones crunching under someone’s boot.
Gwin had never worn boots in her life, and neither had anyone she knew. Boots were a luxury that only the Devouts could afford; they were a sign of wealth and viciousness. Gwin trusted bare feet in a way that she would never trust boots.
The crunching sound grew louder. She crept forward and peered over the edge of the path.
It was all she could do not to cry out when she saw Papa. His face was bruised, his hands were bound behind his back, and he was gagged with a length of filthy cloth. A rope circled his neck so he couldn’t escape, and he was surrounded by three Devouts, an Initiate who looked no older than Nat, and a heavily laden mule.
One of the Devouts was small and ordinary, but the other two were almost as big as Hob. They strode along with cudgels in their hands and Papa squeezed between them, as if they and their boots owned the world.
Gwin shrank back. There was no weakness there. If she tried to sneak up on such men, they’d catch her. If she tried to bargain, they’d surely cheat her. Besides, what did she have to bargain with?
It was then that she had the dreadful idea.
She knew right from the start that she shouldn’t do it. She tried to think of another plan, but her mind was blank. She wasn’t strong enough to beat the Devouts in any sort of struggle. All she had was her desperate need to save Papa. Because if she didn’t get him away from these men, they would— He would be—
Gwin couldn’t say the words, even to herself.
She waited until the small party was well past, then she scrambled quickly and silently down the path and trotted after them. She had almost halved the distance when the man leading the mule heard her and spun around. Gwin stopped, careful not to get too close. The big man said something and they all turned, dragging Papa with them.
Gwin saw her father’s eyes widen with shock. She looked away, knowing that he wouldn’t approve of what she was about to do. But she had nothing else.
‘Sirs!’ she cried. Despite her anguish, her voice was strong, and she stood the way Papa had taught her, as if she too owned the world. ‘I wish to make a bargain with you. For your prisoner’s release.’
The Devouts laughed. At least, the two big men did. The Initiate’s face was unreadable.
But the small man tipped his head to one side like a bird, and studied her. He glanced at Papa, then back at Gwin, as if he could see the likeness.
‘A bargain?’ he said mildly. ‘For your father’s release? This is your father, is it not?’ He took a step forward, but when Gwin retreated, he gestured apologetically and stopped. ‘What are you offering?’
‘A— A relic. Something from before the Great Cleansing.’
‘We have any number of relics,’ said the man. ‘We are up to our ears in them. Why would we want another?’
Gwin had thought she’d be able to say it straight out, to make that dreadful bargain and be done with it. But she couldn’t.
She knew it was wrong, that was the trouble. She could see the dismay in Papa’s eyes, even though he didn’t know what she was talking about. She could hear Nat saying, We’re Fetchers. We don’t betray people.
She swallowed. ‘Because it’s like no other relic you’ve ever seen.’
To her dismay, the small man chuckled. ‘Ah, children.’ H
e nudged Papa with his elbow, as if they were the best of friends. ‘They find a scrap of rusty iron in the fields and think it will pay a Fetcher’s ransom. Such innocence!’
Still chuckling, he turned on his heel and continued up the track. One of the big men jerked at Papa’s rope. The other smacked the mule on the rump to get it moving. Only the Initiate continued to stare at Gwin, with an odd expression on his face. But when Gwin caught his eye, he spun around to follow the men and the mule.
Gwin was left standing there, feeling like a fool. ‘But it’s not a scrap of rusty iron,’ she whispered.
She thought of Papa’s bruises. She thought of what would happen to him if the Devouts took him back to the Citadel, and a shaft of panic shot through her.
Before she could change her mind, she shouted, ‘It’s a mechanical boy!’
The words seemed to bounce off the cliff like pebbles. The Initiate spun around first, his face a mask of horror, but the other three were no more than a whisker behind him.
‘A mechanical boy?’ The small man’s eyes glittered. ‘How. . .interesting.’
‘Then we have a bargain?’
‘If you are telling the truth,’ said the Devout. He nudged Papa again. ‘That is quite a daughter you have, Fetcher. Not as foolish as I thought, eh? No, indeed, she is a girl to be reckoned with.’
To Gwin he said, ‘Perhaps I should introduce myself. Brother Poosk, at your service.’ He made a little bow, and cocked an eyebrow.
Gwin didn’t want to give him her name. But she didn’t want him to know how frightened she was either, so she stood tall and said, ‘Gwinith.’
‘Very well, Gwinith. Tell me, is this mechanical boy whole, or broken?’
‘He— It’s broken.’
‘In that case, yes, we have a bargain. You give us the mechanical boy, and we will free your father. How does that sound?’
Papa was trying to speak, but the gag stopped him.
‘No,’ said Gwin. ‘The other way around. You free my father and then I’ll give you the mechanical boy.’
Brother Poosk threw back his head and laughed. ‘Fetcher, what a daughter you have. She does not trust me, and who can blame her? The trouble is – and I am sure you will understand me, Fetcher – I do not trust her. So who will give way, hmm?’
‘Not me,’ Gwin said quickly.
Brother Poosk sighed. ‘A stubborn bunch, you Fetchers. Ah well, it would have been nice to have had a mechanical boy to take back to the Citadel. I would have made the exchange gladly, once the creature was in our custody, but if we cannot have it, we cannot. At least we will not go back empty handed. And of course, there is the other matter. Come, brothers.’
Gwin stood dumbfounded. She’d been sure that the mere mention of the mechanical boy would be enough to seal the bargain. But now Brother Poosk was walking away from her, up the mountain track.
He’s bluffing. He’s waiting to see if I’ll give in. And I won’t!
Except then she heard Poosk say, ‘You know, I do not really want to feed an extra person all the way back to the Citadel. Brother Thrawn will be just as happy with the Fetcher’s corpse as with his living body. What do you think, Brothers? We have plenty of rope for a noose. Shall we look for a tree?’
Gwin put her hand over her mouth, to stop herself from crying out. The Devouts were almost out of sight around the next bend, and she still didn’t know why they had come this way, or what the other matter was. But she no longer cared. All she could think of was a tree. And a noose. And Papa.
The air in her lungs felt like fire. ‘Forgive me, rat,’ she whispered. Then she ran after the Devouts, shouting, ‘I’ll take you to him! I’ll take you to the mechanical boy. And then you’ll free Papa.’
Fin wanted to stop the girl before she could do any more damage. But he could not get near her. None of them could. She led them along the narrow path, sure-footed and nimble, with a good distance between her and Brother Poosk.
Behind Poosk came Fin, then Bartle with the Fetcher. Cull had stayed behind on the main track to look after the mule.
Fin wished he knew how far away Petrel, Rain and Sharkey were. He was sure they would have followed him from Bale, and if they were close enough, they might be able to do something. Except he had no way of getting word to them, not without arousing Brother Poosk’s suspicions.
And what about Mister Smoke? He must be here somewhere – he would not leave the captain unprotected. But what could a mechanical rat and an ex-Initiate do against Brother Poosk and his guards?
The path narrowed further. Make her slip, thought Fin. Make her twist her ankle so she cannot go on.
But the Fetcher girl did not even stumble. Instead, she stopped at the entrance to a cave and held up her hand. Her face was bloodless, but Fin felt no sympathy for her. The captain was the hope of humanity. Without the knowledge he carried, the world would be stuck in ignorance for generations to come.
Even more important, he was Fin’s friend.
‘He’s in here,’ said the girl, and she ducked her head and disappeared into the cave.
Fin stepped forward, knowing he must do something before it was too late. ‘Brother Poosk, we do not know what is in there. It could be a trap. Will you let me go first, so I can take the risk instead of you?’
Poosk smiled gently, as if there were nothing more interesting in that cave than another pile of rocks. It was an act, of course. Beneath that nonchalance, he must be quivering with excitement. ‘Do you value my life so much, Initiate?’ he asked. ‘Hmm?’
‘Yes, Brother, I—’
‘Or is it that you want the glory of catching the demon for yourself?’
‘No, Brother, I just—’
‘Do not worry on my account. If there is one thing I know, it is human nature. And the girl will not trick us.’ Poosk’s smile broadened. ‘No. She will not trick us.’
He ducked his head to enter the hole. ‘Bring the prisoner in. Let him see what his daughter has found.’
The girl was waiting for them, with a lantern in her hand. ‘This way,’ she said. And she led them into the darkness.
BETRAYAL
The mechanical boy was lying just as Gwin had left him. She glanced at him once, then looked away.
It’s not as if he’s a real person, she told herself, trying very hard not to think about that sweet, true voice.
To Brother Poosk she said, ‘That’s my side of the bargain. Now you must keep yours.’
She might as well not have spoken.
‘Look how still it lies,’ whispered Poosk, tiptoeing towards the mechanical boy. ‘There is no power left in it, none at all. It is defeated.’
‘We should burn it,’ said Bartle, staying well back. ‘It is a demon and we should burn it on the spot.’
Poosk nodded. ‘Perhaps you are right, Brother Bartle. Mm-hm. Perhaps you are. Though it seems a pity—’
It was then that the Initiate spoke up. His eyes were white in the lamplight, and his fists were clenched so tight that they looked as if they might never open again. But his voice was calm. ‘The safest thing is not always the one that brings the greatest reward.’
Poosk turned to him. ‘What was that?’
The Initiate repeated his words.
‘Mm,’ said Poosk. ‘So what would you do with the demon, if you were in my shoes?’
A muscle in the Initiate’s cheek twitched. ‘I would take hi— I would take it back to the Citadel, Brother. Burn it here and there will be nothing to show for what you have done. No one will believe your story; why would they? But take it back and burn it there, and they will fall at your feet with gratitude.’
Bartle spluttered in horror. ‘It— It is not worth the risk! We all know what the demon is capable of.’
Poosk ignored him. ‘That is an interesting idea, Initiate.’
‘Thank you, Brother.’
Poosk clapped his hands, and everyone, including Gwin, jumped. ‘Bartle, bring the demon.’ And he strode towards the cave entrance.
‘Me?’ cried Bartle. ‘I will not touch the creature!’
Brother Poosk swung around. ‘You will if I say so.’
‘I will not. I will do anything else you tell me, Brother, but I will not touch that thing.’
His leader levelled a finger at him. ‘You will regret this, Brother. I have a long memory.’
‘I will carry hi— I will carry it,’ said the Initiate.
Once again, Poosk turned that searching gaze onto the Devout boy. ‘Are you not afraid?’
‘No. Yes. But—’ The Initiate sounded as if he was repeating a lesson ‘—but orders are more important than fear.’
‘And ambition,’ murmured Poosk, ‘is a great driver. I will have to watch you, boy, I can see that. But for now at least, you are useful. Pick up the demon.’
‘Yes, Brother.’
It seemed to Gwin that the Initiate picked up the mechanical boy with a certain tenderness. No, I’m imagining it, she thought, and when she looked again the tenderness was gone, and the Initiate was hauling the limp figure over his shoulder with an expression of disgust on his face.
Gwin glanced at Papa, but his eyes were so sorrowful that she quickly looked away. ‘You have the – the relic,’ she said to Brother Poosk. ‘Now you can release my papa.’
‘And have the two of you run off and leave us here, unable to find our way back?’ Brother Poosk raised his eyebrows. ‘I think not. You will be reunited with your father when we are back where we began, and no sooner.’
Gwin didn’t like it, but there was nothing she could do about it. Reluctantly, she led the way out of the cave and along the cliff path. There was no sign of the rat, which was a relief. She didn’t want those silver eyes judging her.
I had to do it, she thought. There was no other way. I’m sorry, rat.
As soon as they reached the mountain track, she stopped and put her hands on her hips. ‘Now,’ she said, mustering that air of confidence. ‘You must let Papa go.’
‘Wait, wait.’ Brother Poosk waggled a finger in her direction. Then he turned to the Initiate. ‘Put the demon down, boy. There, next to Cull.’