by Cliff McNish
‘We are undecided,’ Albertus said. ‘During the conversation with Gultrathaca spectrums monitored fluctuations in her temperature, heart rate and respiratory system. Amongst humans it is easy for us to know from these if someone is telling a lie, even a half-lie. But the Griddas can’t be read that way. Their bodies are permanently hot, their hearts erratic, racing all the time.’
‘That definitely wasn’t her real voice, though,’ Eric said.
‘True,’ Albertus replied. ‘However, Gultrathaca may have been using a womanly voice for our benefit. Perhaps she did not want to frighten us. Perhaps her natural voice is so different from ours that we could not have understood it at all if she had not changed it.’
Mum restlessly paced the room. ‘So we can’t be sure of anything. Except the size of those claws, of course. And those teeth!’ She pointed at Rachel. ‘I’ve seen that look on your face before. Already made up your mind, haven’t you? Well, unmake it; I won’t allow you to go. Are you listening to me?’
‘Yes, I’m listening, Mum,’ Rachel answered. ‘I’m also remembering the last thing Larpskendya told us. He said get to Yemi. He said find a way, before the Griddas do something terrible to him. This is the way, the only way. We can’t help Yemi from here.’ As Mum tried to interrupt, Rachel added, ‘I won’t leave Yemi and Fola on Ool. We didn’t know how to find them before. There was no chance to help. Now there is.’ She felt all the spells inside her shiver as she made her decision. ‘I’ll go on my own if I have to.’
‘Whoa!’ Eric said, as Mum exploded and Dad stood up.
‘Now listen,’ Dad said. ‘I want all of you to calm down. Especially you, Rachel. No one wants any harm to come to Yemi or Fola. Everyone in this room wants to do the right thing by them.’
Rachel nodded. ‘Yes … sorry … I know, Dad. Of course they do.’
‘All right, then. So the question is how to judge whether to believe Gultrathaca or not. I can’t see a way to be sure.’
‘There’s another thing, Rach,’ Eric said. ‘Once you’re off Earth nobody can protect you. The Griddas probably know that. What’s to stop them murdering you quietly in space?’
‘Nothing,’ Rachel said. ‘I know. But why come all this way just to do that? It doesn’t make sense.’
Mum came across to Rachel, held her hands, met her eyes. ‘Please don’t go,’ she murmured.
Through her tears, Rachel said, ‘I don’t want to go, Mum! It’s just … how can I leave Yemi there? I can’t do that! I can’t!’
Albertus rose. Without the aid of his thrill-seekers he walked the short distance across to Rachel and knelt beside her. ‘I know what you are thinking,’ he said. ‘There is a picture, Rachel. It is in your head. A picture of Yemi and Fola, and also Serpantha, being mistreated in some awful place with no one to help them. You can’t endure it. You’re thinking that by charging to Ool you might be able to help. Perhaps you can, perhaps not. But think of this: what if Gultrathaca has come to Earth just to get you. Perhaps she can’t get Yemi to do what she wants. She intends to get you to help her. Or she needs you for other reasons we could never calculate or guess.’
Mum jumped up and hugged Albertus. ‘Exactly, exactly,’ she said to Rachel. ‘That settles it. I’m prepared to accept the advice of Albertus. Are you?’
Rachel did not want to commit herself.
‘Well?’ Mum pressed.
Rachel finally assented.
Albertus stared at Mum, his expression grave. ‘I think you have misunderstood. The danger to Rachel is real, but there are important reasons why her presence on Ool is required. Our judgement – the combined view of the spectrums – is that Rachel should go.’
Mum flinched, her face blank.
‘Here are the major reasons,’ Albertus said. ‘If you, Rachel, are killed, that loss would be terrible. But the loss of Yemi would be catastrophic for the world, especially if the Griddas find a way to use him against us. Thus, if there is a small chance you can prevent that, the risk to your life is worthwhile. It is difficult for me to say this, because I am your spectrum, and you are precious to me. So long as I live and so long as you live I am devoted to your welfare, but my first priority must be the welfare of all children. By going to Ool, Rachel, you may avoid war. The spectrums’ view is that children could not win a war against the Griddas. You may, after all, discover that Gultrathaca is telling the truth. Even if she lied, and your visit only delays war, it will have served a purpose. It may give us adequate time to prepare for an invasion, should it come.’
Mum stared bitterly at Albertus Robertson. ‘Tell me,’ she said, ‘what is the likelihood that Rachel will be killed by the Griddas?’
Albertus Robertson looked directly at Rachel, a personal look full of candour. ‘It is doubtful you will ever return.’
‘But you still think I should go?’
‘I would request it, yes.’
‘Then I’m going,’ Rachel said, rushing across to Mum.
For a while Mum tried desperately to make Rachel change her mind. Eric knew it would hurt too much if he told her his own decision later. He would have to tell her now. ‘I’m going, too,’ he said.
‘What? No, you’re not!’ Dad blasted. ‘You are not going, Eric!’
‘Dad, Mum, you don’t understand. I can actually fight these Griddas. I don’t think they’ve any idea what my anti-magic can do.’
Rachel shook her head. ‘No, Eric, I’m not risking you as well.’
‘Let Albertus decide,’ Eric insisted.
Albertus stared at Eric. His thrill-seekers also stared at Eric. One of the girls’ faces, for the first time, betrayed strong emotion.
‘You are the fatal gift,’ she said, her face white with fear.
‘What? What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘The fatal gift is the name the spectrums have given you, Eric,’ Albertus said. ‘You have the ability to destroy magic. Our task on Earth is to value and honour the magic of children. You frighten us, because of what you can do. As to whether you should stay on Earth or go with Rachel, I cannot say.’
There was a period of silence while everyone absorbed this.
‘The fatal gift …’ Eric said to the girl. ‘The way you say it … it’s … you make me sound like some kind of monster.’
‘No,’ Albertus replied firmly. ‘You are not that, and you must make up your own mind about what to do. You must choose yourself.’
The girl thrill-seeker who had spoken suddenly put her face close to Eric, so close that her long dark hair fell on his knees. No one had ever looked at Eric the way she looked at him now – as if she wanted to kiss him, or to bite him, or both. The other girl pulled her back.
Eric sat still, stroking the prapsies to calm himself down. Then he said, ‘Larpskendya suggested more might depend on me than before. He said trust my instinct. My instinct tells me to go.’
Mum’s face was ashen. Dad held her, fighting his own dread.
‘I’ll also go with you,’ said Heiki. ‘If you –’
‘No, please stay, please,’ Rachel asked, clutching Heiki’s wrist. ‘I need someone strong here. I need you working with the sentinels.’
Heiki nodded. Everyone gazed at Albertus Robertson.
‘I would be of little use to you,’ Albertus said matter-offactly. ‘It is the connected intelligence of the spectrums that serves the Earth. Once I am isolated from the others, I will be just like any other child. And remember, I have no magic of my own. Unless I am mistaken – and I am not mistaken – even you, Rachel, will not be able to shift large distances with more than one companion.’
Rachel could not look at Mum or Dad. ‘Then it’s only us,’ she said to Eric.
The Griddas were escorted to a safer location, and Rachel and Eric spent most of the next hours with their parents. The painful run-through of arguments over the decision to leave never quite came to an end, but there were also preparations for Ool to be made. Rachel knew she should be able to fashion whatever clothing they n
eeded with her spells – but what if her magic didn’t work on Ool? She decided on practical light-weight body suits, comfortable to move around in but fur-lined, waterproof and well insulated. Eric’s suit had extra large pockets because, of course, the prapsies refused to stay behind.
Before she left, Rachel offered a few final words of advice to Albertus Robertson, but they were not needed – the spectrums had already commenced defensive strategies far more apt than anything Rachel could have devised. She said goodbye to Albertus and he kissed her.
There were other goodbyes, many.
And then there was no more reason to delay.
As Rachel zipped up her white body-suit, Dad slowly re-fastened one of the collar straps. Mum smoothed Eric’s hair under his hood. Her children gazed back at her; only their eyes and part of their foreheads were exposed. Everyone was too distraught to speak.
‘I’ll take care of them,’ Heiki whispered to Rachel.
‘I know you will.’ She looked at Heiki. ‘Will you follow us up?’
‘Of course.’
They departed into a warm blue morning sky. Rachel could not believe how beautiful that ordinary sky looked to her today. Millions of children had come to see them off. They flew into the air until their magic could take them no higher, then waved and called out their hopes until Rachel and Eric were out of sight.
Some spectrums ordered their thrill-seekers to escort Rachel as far as they could. It was a terrible parting for the thrill-seekers. They were bereft without their spectrums, and Rachel was glad to see them return to the ground as she rose into the stratosphere. Here, in the thinnest air, where no birds could fly, only the most magical children could still follow. Paul and Marshall were amongst them, close friends from another time of impossible decisions. The smiles of the boys were strained as they tried to hearten her. Finally Rachel, wrapping Eric in a protective blanket of warmth and oxygen, outflew even those two special children.
Only one child remained with them now.
‘Oh, Rachel,’ murmured Heiki. ‘Are you doing the right thing? Are you sure?’
Rachel did not reply. Instead she turned away from all she knew, and said to Gultrathaca, ‘Which way?’ Rachel thought she saw a smile, then. Was it a smile? Even in that busted face of shattered angles, Rachel thought she recognized the expression.
‘Follow me,’ Gultrathaca said.
13
Homage
Rachel had shifted many times before, sometimes stretching it out gloriously for hours, but never for this long – and never through the vacuum of space.
Yet instead of tiring, her shifting spells wanted more. After half a day carrying Eric without rest, they were lean, trimmed and ready for new velocities. Sensing this, Gultrathaca increased the pace. She shifted at greater and greater intervals.
Testing me, Rachel realized. I can test you too, Gultrathaca, she thought. If you’ve spent most of your life underground, there must be limitations to your flying skills. So each time Gultrathaca accelerated, Rachel nudged the speed on. They flew side by side, studying each other intently: for frailties, for infirmity, for the slightest defect.
Suns streaked by, beautiful constellations, barely noticed by either of them.
The talkative version of Gultrathaca vanished as soon as they left Earth. Throughout the journey she seemed self-absorbed. ‘Ool is near,’ she repeated distractedly every hour or so. Otherwise she hardly responded to their questions.
Eric said privately to Rachel, ‘Where’s the charm gone now? I thought Gultrathaca would use this time to tell us more about Ool. She’s not bothering. Why?’
‘I don’t know. What do you reckon to those spiders?’
Gultrathaca’s watchers perched on every edge of her face. Not once had they taken their eyes off Rachel.
Eric whispered, ‘Do you think Gultrathaca’s just going to kill us? Is that why she’s so quiet?’
‘If that was all Gultrathaca intended, we’d probably be dead already.’
‘Maybe she’s waiting for help, waiting until we get to Ool.’
Rachel wished she could answer that.
There were no stopping places on the journey. They ate while they flew. Gultrathaca’s meals were tucked inside the crevices of her skin: light snacks, small live creatures. It was repulsive to watch her eat, but Rachel made herself do so – there might be far worse to come on Ool. Was Gultrathaca a typical Gridda? she wondered. Were they all so intimidating?
‘The prapsies are getting hungry,’ Eric complained after a few hours. ‘I didn’t bring much food because you told us not to bother. How far is there to go?’
‘Not far at all.’ Allowing all her anxieties to flow away, Gultrathaca said, ‘Welcome to Ool. Welcome to the world of the Griddas!’
Ool appeared before them suddenly. It was a shade of red, though so deep it was almost black. Rachel tried to pick out details on the surface, but there were none. A sun shone adamantly down, but gigantic cloud-formations gathered against it, like a fortress against the warmth and brightness.
Before Rachel’s information spells could investigate further, Gultrathaca pointed below. ‘Here come the youngsters,’ she said.
Countless Gridda infants rose in long thrashing lines from the surface of Ool. Flight was awkward for them, but with jerky, frog-like kicks of their legs they clawed at the space ahead. They bit their own pack-members, desperate to be the first to arrive.
Dread trickled through Rachel. Was this a welcome? How could it be? More likely a killing party. Would it end here, before they even knew if Yemi was alive or dead?
The prapsies were frantic under Eric’s body-suit. With an effort he kept them inside. ‘Better get ready to defend ourselves,’ he said to Rachel.
Too many, and too late for that, she thought.
Gultrathaca seemed confused by Eric’s reaction. ‘The infants will not intentionally damage you,’ she assured him. ‘Let them feel your bodies. Touch is the way they learn to identify each another in the birthing tunnels.’
Rachel tried not to flinch as the first infants arrived.
Exploratory claws reached out, almost shyly at first. Rachel’s lack of angularity intrigued the infants. They circled her, looking for edges. Such woeful eyes, such clawlessness! And where were her jaws? Marvelling at her pale skin, they wanted to taste her hair, confused by its long loose texture. Eric closed his eyes as the infants sniffed up and down his body. Where were his spiders hiding? they wondered. They poked his clothes – as if the strange garments might poke back.
‘Get away!’ Eric warned, as one infant reached for a prapsy.
Hearing Eric’s raised voice the nearest infants backed off – only to be pushed aside by others. Once it was obvious they would not be harmed, more infants braved an approach. They brushed up against Rachel and Eric: jabbering, rubbing up against them, insatiable.
One dropped a batch of spiders onto Rachel’s legs.
‘A gift,’ Gultrathaca told her. ‘From an admirer.’
‘An admirer?’ Rachel gazed at the infant in bewilderment, striving to see beyond the bony face to the expressions beneath.
‘Get them off now!’ Eric screamed, suddenly no longer able to bear it. ‘Get them off! Get them off!’
Gultrathaca uttered a guttural click, and all the infants started kicking back to the surface of Ool. The one who had offered her spiders to Rachel sucked them back into her mouths, reluctantly leaving with the other infants.
Rachel tried to steady herself as Gultrathaca led them down towards the planet. How big was Ool? Her information spells measured its circumference: over thirty times the size of Earth.
They entered the atmosphere – and a sky the colour of dull metal.
For dozens of miles, Gultrathaca guided them through snow-clouds. Even on Ithrea, Rachel had never seen snowfall so heavy. At another time she might have thought the flakes had a beauty all of their own, but she was too conscious of danger. The snows themselves felt dangerous. They were not light and scatte
red, with gaps to see the world through. These snows were so dense it was like the weight of a person pressed on all parts of her. She drew Eric close, wiping the flakes from his eyes. The prapsies huddled against his breast, where they could watch his face and feel the reassuring thump of his heart.
At last the clouds thinned, and they burst through into clearer air.
‘The Detaclyver,’ Gultrathaca said tonelessly, pointing below. ‘The place of death. No Gridda survives for long here.’
Rachel gasped as she saw mountains: a colossal range. Peak after peak extended over the entire southern and western continents of Ool.
‘It’s moving!’ Eric cried out. ‘Rachel, it’s … living!’
The Detaclyver’s body was like a vast buckling and heaving tide, trying to extend over the world. At its northerly extremity, the peaks were not turned towards the sky. They were sharper, modified for ramming into the ground ahead.
‘Do you recognize what’s holding it back?’ Rachel called out. ‘Storm-whirls!’
On Ithrea the Witch Dragwena had used her magic to create similar immense hurricanes. Those lifeless objects, however, bore no resemblance to the true sentient storm-whirls of Ool. Hundreds of them stood massively between ground and sky. Rooted against the outer border of the Detaclyver, they kept it in check.
‘A ceaseless, patient battle,’ Gultrathaca explained. ‘Both species were part of Ool long before Witches came. The High Witches could never control the Detaclyver, but eventually were able to gain a hold on the minds of the storm-whirls. Now they obey us.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Rachel said. ‘Why do you need the storm-whirls?’
‘To keep our homes safe from the Detaclyver,’ Gultrathaca answered. ‘The Detaclyver tries to destroy the cities. Naturally it does. It hates us.’
As they flew over the summits of the Detaclyver, Rachel looked between her feet. It seemed that nothing should be able to live among the desolate peaks but she was wrong. Her information spells discovered life and spells. Creatures were everywhere below her, in the endlessly falling snow itself, or under it, within the flesh of the Detaclyver. Amongst them were magical signatures that throbbed as powerfully as any Witch, though the creatures were not Witches – or anything like them.