City of Light & Shadow (34 page)

  Below him, one of the Blade took a heavy blow from a metallic limb that sent it spinning out over the pool to splash down into the water and disappear. The pool's surface, already in constant motion due to the proximity of the falls, seemed to froth and boil oddly where the Blade had struck. Curious, Tylus widened the loop of his flight slightly so that he could take a closer look.

  As decisions went, this proved not to be one of his better ones.

  It all happened in the blink of an eye, far too quickly for him to react. He had the impression of something erupting from the water straight towards him – like a thick plant stem bursting from the ground at surreal speed. Before he could even think to manoeuvre, the thing struck and wrapped itself around him with crushing force. Pain lanced through his side and he couldn't breathe. Then he was being dragged downward, to hit the surface of the pool. The force of impact and the abrupt cold would have been enough to knock the breath out of him if he'd had any. The tentacle continued to pull him downward into the cold, stygian depths. He'd had no chance to draw a deep breath and knew that if he couldn't free himself he'd drown in a matter of seconds, never mind the cold or the fact that he might well be crushed to death before that. On top of everything else, his ears started to hurt acutely with the rapidly increasing pressure.

  Despite the death grip around his torso both arms were free, which offered a faint glimmer of hope. Frantically, he reached for his knife, drew it, and stabbed at the tentacle, feeling the blade bite home and the grip loosen slightly. Encouraged, he stabbed again and again, frustrated at how feeble the blows seemed, slowed as they were by the water. The tentacle loosened a little more under his assault, but as he raised his arm to strike again another tentacle, or perhaps the tip of the same one, snagged his wrist and knocked the knife from his hand. He clutched at it in despair, his hand closing only on water.

  His body cried out for oxygen, his lungs demanded that he breathe. He fought hard not to, knowing that there was no oxygen to be had, but he felt increasingly light-headed and it was becoming hard to concentrate. The grip around his body tightened still further. He needed to breathe, to gasp for air became unbearable. He wanted to scream. He tried to prise the tentacle off with his hands. He kicked and wriggled, dimly realising that this would use up his precious oxygen all the quicker, but knowing that if he didn't somehow escape
now
he never would.

  After a mere handful of frantic twists the effort became too much, the energy drained from his limbs and his kicks became little more than feeble twitches. His head lolled as if his neck no longer had the strength to support it, and everything started to fade. Except the pain.
This is it
, he realised, with more curiosity than fear or even regret.
This is death.
And then he stopped thinking at all.

 

They emerged into a surreal world, made all the more so by the unexpectedly uneven ground, which caused Tom to overbalance and nearly fall over. Silver light emanated from a miniature sun, its radiance totally unlike the light from the sun globes or anything else Tom had experienced. Long shadows and eerie rocks surrounded them.

  "About time you got back," said a man's voice; M'gruth, Tom realised, and the comment wasn't addressed at him.

  "Having fun in my absence?" Kat responded, having to shout above the roar of the nearby falls.

  "Not exactly."

  A short distance away a fight was taking place, the combat conducted at incredible speed. A group of Blade were locked in battle with… a
thing
. It seemed to be all writhing body and jointed legs, with metal predominant.

  "Is that Insint?" Tom asked.

  "Yes," a woman replied – an arkademic, who was in the process of fashioning another mini-sun between her hands. She released it just before the first sputtered and died.

  A Kite Guard flew in loops above, doing little else as far as Tom could see. As he watched, things took an unexpected turn. A thick tentacle shot from the water to wrap itself around the circling figure.

  "Tylus!" the arkademic cried out.

  "That's Tylus?" Kat said.

  "Yes."

  "Breck!" Kat started to run towards the pool.

  "What are you doing?" Tom called.

  "What do you think I'm doing? He saved my life," she shouted back, as if that explained everything. With that, she dived into the water.

  Tom stared after her, stunned, while M'gruth and the Tattooed Men rushed past him.

  There had to be
something
he could do. Not jump into the water perhaps, but… he still felt invigorated by his encounter with the core, its energy sang through his veins. He felt more powerful, more in command of his talent than he ever had before. Tom reached out, not knowing if this would work, but he couldn't think what else to do. His thoughts connected instantly with an ancient mind lurking somewhere beneath the water. Not intelligence as he knew it, this was something so focused on the need to feed, to satisfy its hunger, that few other considerations got a look in. Tom wasn't sure he could have done this at any other time, without the core energy burning so freshly, but the important thing was that he could do it now. The simplicity of the creature's motivations helped. He saw at once where to apply pressure, where to suggest that this morsel wasn't nourishing or tasty but that one was.

  His tampering had two results. The most obvious being that two further tentacles shot out of the water, one wrapping itself around Insint and plucking him up high into the air, scattering the two Blade as it went. The two tentacles then literally pulled the creature – this last retreat of Thaiss's brother – apart. An agonised scream tore through the thrum of the waterfall – uncomfortable proof that whatever Insint had been, he wasn't all machine – before his bloodied remnants were dragged down into the depths.

  The second consequence was a spluttering, bedraggled Kat, who surfaced at the side of the pool dragging an inert Kite Guard with her. "Give me a hand, will you?"

  Tattooed arms reached down to pull both figures free of the water, where one spluttered and coughed and spat, while the other lay still.

  By the time Tom got there, Kat had recovered enough to start pressing rhythmically on the Kite Guard's chest with the heel of her hand.

  "Do you know what you're doing?" he wondered.

  "Vaguely. Wasting my time, though, aren't I?" She paused. "He's gone."

  "No." Tom could sense a spark, a flickering remnant of life's energy on the very cusp of expiring. Desperately he tried to fan that spark, drawing on his own energy to feed the fragile ember, and was rewarded by feeling it stabilise and strengthen a little, though not nearly enough and it threatened to fade again almost at once. "He's still with us, just."

  "You can save him then, like you did me?"

  "I'm trying…" But no matter how hard he tried, the spark grew no stronger. The man was dying as quickly as Tom was reviving him. Tom grew increasingly frustrated.
Why wasn't the man recovering?
"We need a proper healer," he said at last. "Someone who knows what they're doing."

  "Shayna!" Kat said at once.

  "Mildra," Tom said at the same instant.

  Tom put his hands on the motionless Kite Guard, feeling Kat take his arm.

  "Not again," he heard someone – M'gruth, most likely – mutter as the familiar rush of the jump swept through him.

  Even after so short a time in the depths of the rear cavern, the full glare of the sun globes took a little getting used to – the light so much stronger than that produced by the arkademic's silver suns. Only belatedly did Tom wonder if Mildra might be asleep. She wasn't. They found her instead chatting to Councillor Thomas.

  "Help us," Kat said. Tom was still busy holding death at bay.

  Mildra was there in an instant, squatting down beside Tom. She assessed the situation at a glance.

  "He was submerged in water, yes?" At his nod, she started rolling the supine figure onto its side. "We've got to clear his lungs of water," she explained. "No matter how much you strengthen him and bring him back, he's constantly drowning all over again."

  Of course, why hadn't he thought of that?

  Within seconds of her expert ministrations, the Kite Guard's chest heaved and he was coughing up water. Tom felt the spark finally take hold and flare to life. Soon Tylus was able to prop himself up a little; enough to be sick on the ground rather than over himself.

  Tom reckoned this a good time to step back. He saw the relief on Kat's face and felt a pang of jealousy.

  "What?" she asked, looking up to catch his expression.

  "Nothing…" But he couldn't stop himself. "You really do care about him, don't you?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Of course I brecking do. If you mean by that 'do I want to have his babies?' Thaiss no! But yeah, I have feelings for him. He saved my life. Why, you jealous or something?"

  "No," he said, far too quickly. "Of course not."

  Kat's fleeting smile was enough to tell him that she wasn't fooled for a minute. Breck!

 

It felt odd, simply sitting and talking, sipping on a chilled drink without the pressing need to hurry anywhere or save anything. All very civilised. The rest of the party had made it back from the Stain unscathed. Mildra had gone to report to her order on all that had happened; Kat had gone off with the surviving Tattooed Men to see what the rest of their tribe had been up to in their absence, and even Tylus recovered enough to lead his Kite Guards away. Only once the man was on his feet again had Tom recognised Tylus as the same Kite Guard who had so nearly caught him on the walls as he fled the scene of Thomas' apparent murder. Funny how these things came around.

  Tom was left in the company of Thomas and Isar – the arkademic with a knack for making silver suns – which made him feel a bit like a privileged child who'd been allowed to stay up with the grownups. Deciding that they were all thirsty, the three of them relocated to a nearby café and were now enjoying a refreshing drink – or drinks in Tom's case; he was already on his second.

  Stopping and simply relaxing was more enjoyable than Tom would ever have thought, even though much of the ensuing conversation bored him rigid. He let the others' words wash over him, and reflected on all that he had been through.

  Touching the mind of that river monster, manipulating it, had been merely the latest in a string of new experiences, but it was one of the oddest yet. He imagined the creature had been washed over the waterfall when much smaller, and had been living there ever since, feeding on everything else that came over the falls, whether alive or dead, growing bigger and more formidable all the while. How long it had been there was anyone's guess, but Tom sensed it was a long, long time.

  Another aspect of the incident gave him ongoing satisfaction, since it provided proof that Kat was a fraud. She might act tough and pretend that she was only ever interested in number one, but in the Stain's darkest corner she had shown her true colours. She stood to gain nothing whatsoever by leaping into the pool to rescue Tylus. It was an act of complete selflessness, putting her own life at risk for the sake of someone else. Proof positive that Tom wasn't the only one who could do that sort of thing after all.

  He clung to that crumb of satisfaction during the days that followed, as Thaiburley gradually recovered and learnt to deal with the aftermath of all that had befallen her.

 
 

 
 
 

Tylus still couldn't understand how he was alive. It appeared he owed the fact to the actions of Kat, Mildra… and Tom. The irony didn't escape him. The same boy he'd let fall off the city's walls and nearly die during his fumbled attempt at arrest, was responsible for saving his life. He'd found it hard to meet Tom's eyes when he came round.

  His uniform was soaked through and soon turned cold and clinging. Mildra came to his rescue, producing a set of plain, worn clothes. He later learned that she'd simply knocked on a nearby house and bought them from the inhabitants. They'd wanted to give them to her despite their evident poverty – what with her being a Thaistess – but she had insisted on paying generously. The clothes were a little too small for him, but at least they were dry. He didn't want to think about how clean or otherwise they might be.

  At least they gave him the opportunity to look reasonably presentable by the time the survivors emerged from the Stain.

  Issie made a valiant effort not to laugh when she saw him, though there was a twinkle in her eye as she asked, "Is this what passes for casual fashion here in the City Below?"

  "It's what passes for dry," he told her.

  Her smile melted into a look of concern. "Thank goodness you're all right."

  He felt awkward and changed the subject. "I suppose you'll be heading back up-City now."

  "For a while, at least."

  "Oh?" She wasn't seriously considering coming back here, was she?

  Issie grinned. "You didn't think you were getting rid of me that easily, did you? Not now we're back in touch after all these years. The assembly intends to appoint a liaison to keep them informed on how this Kite Guard training school of yours is doing. I was thinking I might volunteer, so you're likely to be seeing a great deal more of me from now on."

  "Really? That's… wonderful."

  "Glad you approve."

  He grinned. "I told you this place gets under your skin."

  "Well, something certainly has, though I'm not sure it's the place, but I'm willing to give it a chance to."