Bringer of Light (50 page)

When they reached the doors to the audience chamber, Ifanna’s apprehension increased. She remembered her first time here – and how so much had changed, in a few short days.

The monitors on the door started to question Ifanna’s presence, but Onfel interrupted them, saying, ‘Does no one brief anyone properly these days! Have you only just come on-shift?’

‘Aye, captain,’ the monitor said, looking uncomfortable.

‘Then you should know that Escori Urien requested these scrolls’ – he gestured at Maelgyn, who kept his head bowed – ‘and the Cariad requested this woman. It is not for me – or
you
– to question either the Escori’s request or the Cariad’s, is that clear?’ He glared at both monitors, who stood as straight as they could.

‘Now, will you open the doors and call the inner guard so we may replace him?’ he barked. When the monitors exchanged glances Onfel said, ‘Do not tell me you are not even aware of the changes in this morning’s rota?’

‘Aye, of course sir; my apologies,’ one of the monitors said quickly. His companion opened the doors without further question.

Ifanna had been wondering how they were to cross the chasm, but when they entered the chamber she was relieved to see a slender, rail-less bridge in place.

‘Take care crossing, everyone,’ said Maelgyn unnecessarily.

Ifanna wondered if his thoughts matched hers: that they were about to enter divine territory. If they were mistaken, Heavenly retribution might well be waiting for them.

But they crossed without incident, and no such retribution greeted them on the far side. Maelgyn put the scrolls down and they paused for a moment outside the door to the Cariad’s room. Ifanna resolved to use her powers against the false Cariad only to incapacitate, not to harm her.

One of the monitors opened the door, and the four of them rushed in.

There was movement ahead, someone turning rapidly—

—the
twang
of multiple crossbows—

—and the person they had thought to surprise, Escori Urien, was facing the door as though expecting them. He was sitting in a seat of strange design, and he too had a crossbow in his hand. There was no one else in the room.

All this Ifanna took in during an endless moment of frozen panic. Even as she was trying to work out what to do, one of the monitors fell to the floor, clutching his belly. Urien dropped his own weapon, which also clattered to the ground, and for a moment his head drooped, and Ifanna caught sight of the bolt, sticking out of his shoulder. But he straightened again almost at once, as though determined not show weakness.

Ifanna, remembering his cold condemnation at her judgment, decided to try and attack Urien’s mind, but though she strove to catch his eye, his attention was focused on the remaining monitor, who was fumbling to reload his crossbow. Ifanna looked around and her gaze alighted on Maelgyn. She realised he had not fired yet; the tip of his crossbow wavered uncertainly.

As Ifanna looked back at Urien, his eyes met hers, and she knew at once that this was not someone on whom her powers would ever work. She did catch the echo of one of his thoughts: something that had puzzled him had become clear the moment he saw her face.

‘Ah, Maelgyn.’ Urien’s voice was breathless with pain, but it was still loud enough to make Ifanna jump. ‘I appear to have misjudged the situation. Still . . . that is one mystery solved. Siarl was right. She
is
your daughter.’

She is your daughter
.

A roaring began in Ifanna’s ears. She saw Maelgyn’s grip tighten on his weapon.

I am his
daughter.

I am his DAUGHTER.

The roaring grew, and she turned and shot Maelgyn in the chest. As he fell, she glimpsed the monitor behind him bending over his own crossbow and she sent out a great wave of formless pain. The man let go of his weapon, clutched at his head, and went crashing to the ground. Ifanna ignored him. She flung her crossbow away and rushed over to . . . to—

She threw herself down beside him and screamed, ‘Tell me it is not true! Tell me!’

Maelgyn’s gaze was already clouding. ‘You— You are everything she should have been. I am so sorry—’

‘No!’ she cried, ‘please, no—’

His eyes closed, and he managed one last word, as soft as a breath: ‘Aelwen . . .’

Someone nearby, speaking so quietly Ifanna could barely hear him over the roaring in her ears, said curiously, ‘And Aelwen was your mother, was she not?’

The roaring grew to fill the world and Ifanna scuttled backwards until she came up hard against a wall. She fell onto her side, hugging her knees so tightly to her chest that she thought her body would break – she
wanted
it to break, for it had betrayed her . . .

. . . and yet it did not, and the roaring grew louder, until she had no choice save to start screaming, just to drown it out.

Taro and Kerin accompanied Damaru and Jarek to the
Setting Sun
’s cargo-hold while Nual stayed on the bridge, searching the ship’s comp for the code to unlock the weaponry. The shuttle would reach the beanstalk in just over half an hour. Jarek had voiced all their thoughts when he’d cursed and said, ‘I just wish we had some way of knowing who’s on that shuttle and what they’re up to!’

‘If wishes were feathers, we would grow wings and fly to Heaven,’ Kerin said, and at the blank looks, explained, ‘It is something my mother used to say. There is no point worrying about what we cannot know, Sais.’

Normally he lived his life by just that sort of maxim, but with his enemies closing in and his friends looking to him for leadership, it wasn’t much use to him right now. His state of mind wasn’t improved by having to wear the v-suit that had once belonged to the
Setting Sun
’s pilot, and from Taro’s expression, he didn’t much care to remember the man either – but they could worry about the emotional baggage later; right now they needed to concentrate on surviving the next couple of hours.

When they reached the
Setting Sun
’s hold, Kerin persuaded Damaru to shuffle into the transfer-station until he was free of gravity, so Taro could hoist him up by his armpits. He let out an alarmed squeak, quickly followed by loud giggles. ‘I can fly!’ he cried delightedly as Taro bore him off, ‘I can fly!’

Taro responded, a little breathlessly, ‘Yeah, so you can.’

Jarek wasn’t travelling by Angel; he’d dug out his old propulsion-pack from the
Heart of Glass.
It had been a couple of years since he’d done any zero-g work; he used the trip across the darkened transfer-station to get some practice – better to screw up in here, in private, than out there in space. He’d only managed to get halfway across by the time the others touched down at the airlock on the far side.

While Taro waited for him, he got Damaru sealed up in his v-suit. Then he gave Jarek a hand to crank the door open and, stuck to the deck again, suit-lights blazing, they shuffled into the airlock in single file. There was a certain farcical element to the proceedings, but Jarek couldn’t stop thinking of how damn long everything was taking. They had nineteen minutes until the shuttle arrived, and counting.

As soon as Taro closed the inner door, Jarek started cranking the outer one, just far enough to let them all through. It opened tantalisingly slowly, showing a slice of space and, far below, the globe of Serenein itself, with its ice-locked poles and crumpled band of habitable land around the equator. They killed their suit-lights, then Jarek exited carefully. When he turned to help Damaru the boy looked terrified, and Jarek could hear him breathing hard over the com.

‘Damaru,’ he said, ‘come to me – it’s all right.’

‘The beyond, it does not stop!’ he muttered frantically.

‘I know – try closing your eyes.’

‘No! Feel funny!’

‘All right then, keep your eyes open, but Damaru,
look at me
.’

Damaru’s terrified gaze locked on Jarek.

‘That’s good. Now, listen to me! You have to come out here because this is where the tech is. Do you understand?’

Silence.

Jarek switched to the private channel. ‘Taro, just lift him up, slowly.’

‘He don’t sound happy, Jarek.’

‘No, but if he really couldn’t handle space he’d have done something drastic by now – I know him: he’ll deal with it when he has to. We just have to take it easy.’

Jarek needed Damaru with him for more than the boy’s technical abilities: the Sidhe would scan for sentiences as soon as they were in range, just as Nual had done; Damaru’s presence would shield him, and that was the only way to make sure the Sidhe didn’t head straight for them – and the cold-start console.

Of course, if they hung around the airlock too long the Sidhe wouldn’t need to rely on their powers to spot them; all they’d have to do was look.

Taro said over the open channel, ‘I’m gonna lift you up now, Damaru, and we’re gonna fly, just like we did inside. You keep looking at J— You keep your eyes on Sais now, and everything’ll be fine.’

Damaru flinched when Taro’s arms snaked around him, but he didn’t resist. Jarek kept smiling at him, encouraging him, as Taro lifted Damaru clear of the airlock and floated out. He could still hear Damaru’s harsh breaths, and Taro’s face, visible over his shoulder, was set in a frown of concentration.

So far, so good. ‘Now we’re going to fly again, Damaru,’ Jarek said calmly. ‘You just keep looking at me.’ He thumbed the controls on his chest and began to move slowly up the side of the transfer-station. Taro matched his pace. He was wearing his shimmer-cloak and the bottom corner had partially wrapped round his leg, creating the disconcerting illusion that Taro’s knee was missing. Jarek looked away.

Suddenly the light brightened as they came into full sunlight. A fraction of a second later, the v-suits’ visors darkened automatically. Damaru cried out, and began to struggle in Taro’s arms.

‘Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!’ said Jarek, ‘don’t panic, I’m still here!’

Damaru’s head was twitching from side to side, and even through the darkened visor the rolling whites of his eyes were visible.

Jarek could see Taro was having to fight to keep hold of him. ‘Damaru!’ he said sternly, deliberately mimicking Kerin’s tones, ‘calm down!’ At the same time he opened his arms in a welcoming hug. ‘I’m still here, I’m still with you. Do you hear me, Damaru?’

Damaru’s panicked flailing eased off a little, though not before he’d managed to accidentally head-butt Taro, who responded with the sort of language Kerin probably wouldn’t want her son hearing.

Jarek said, ‘That’s it, Damaru, you’re doing really well.’ He surreptitiously checked the time. Thirteen minutes.

Jarek’s com chimed. He took the call, and was relieved when Nual announced, ‘I have found the unlock codes: there are three possible combinations. I’m sending them to you now.’

‘Got them. What happens if I try all three and we don’t get a result?’

‘Nothing, as far as I can tell. There is no additional security: either you enter the right code and the grid reactivates, or you don’t and it doesn’t.’

‘That’s something, at least – I was worried we’d have to get it right first time, or be locked out forever.’ Not that the approaching Sidhe ship wasn’t incentive enough to succeed quickly. ‘The shuttle’s twelve minutes out, according to my suit timer. How about the main vessel: is it still incoming?’

‘It is, and I’ve got a visual on it now: it looks like a military transport ship. Though it is probably wise to assume it is armed, I do not believe the Sidhe would be stupid enough to use space weaponry near the beanstalk.’

‘Let’s hope you’re right. Though a military transport also implies trained soldiers . . .’

‘Quite possibly.’

‘Just what we need. Right, we’re nearly there. Jarek out.’ They’d travelled most of the way up the side of the transfer-station. Above them was the distant, shining rock of the counterweight, and beyond that, the star-scattered darkness of space.

‘Where to now?’ Taro asked as they reached the ‘top’.

A good question. Jarek’s suit inertials would direct him to the right panel, but all he could see was a shining expanse of solarfilm. ‘Let’s get clear of the edge, and then you can put Damaru down. We’ll cover the rest of the way on foot.’

‘Yeah, ’cos I need to get back inside, ready to repel boarders.’ Taro was trying to make a joke of it, but his voice showed his nerves.

‘Here’s as good a place as any.’

Taro touched down more gently than Jarek did, and kept his hands hovering above Damaru’s shoulders in case the younger boy needed any help. Jarek said, ‘Right, Damaru, flying time’s over; you’ll have to walk for a while. Remember how you walked inside, always keeping your feet pressed down? That’s how you have to walk here too. Do you understand?’

‘Understand.’ He wobbled slightly, then stood stock-still.

Jarek said, ‘That’s great, Damaru. Now just stay where you are while I clip this on.’ As he shuffled over to the boy he found the solarfilm didn’t provide as good a grip as the decking inside the transfer-station; they’d need to watch that.

Once Jarek had attached his wrist to Damaru’s with a long tether, Taro said, ‘Here, Jarek, take this.’ He held out a small dark roll of cloth.