Down Station (33 page)

‘Is that what we are? Scared?’

She dragged her hair out of the way and tilted her head towards him.

‘I don’t know what’s happening to me. I can do stuff like you can only do in films, except this is real.’

‘I used to be scared of heights,’ he admitted. ‘I couldn’t even climb ladders.’

‘Fuck off,’ she said. ‘You threw yourself off a fucking cliff. You expected me to catch you.’

‘I climbed up the outside of Bell’s tower and through a window. Just hanging there, in space, only my fingers and toes in the gaps between the stones. I should’ve been terrified. I wasn’t.’ He stared into the embers. ‘You’re not the only one who’s changed.’

‘Look, Dalip. Everyone’s asleep but us. I wanted to … I …’ She couldn’t manage it, whatever it was she was trying to say. ‘Forget it.’

He genuinely didn’t know what she wanted to tell him. What if she said she liked him? Romantically? He had no experience of that sort of thing, at all, ever. Perhaps just the once, then, and he’d been too scared to act on it, even to talk to the girl in question. What would he have said to his parents afterwards? Easier by far to keep silent and not bring shame on himself or his family.

‘Go on.’ The words formed by themselves. He didn’t know where they came from.

She struggled on. ‘I’ve never had a friend that I haven’t let down. You know, badly, so they dump me like I’m a sack of shit.’ She was shaking, despite the warmth of the room. ‘When you jumped, and pulled me after you, you were going to die, and I wasn’t. But you knew I was going to catch you, even before I did. I’ve never had anyone trust me with as much as you did. I don’t … understand that.’

Dalip felt the low heat from the fire on his face, almost as warm as the embarrassment coming from Mary.

‘That’s what friends do. What they’re supposed to do anyway. In an ideal world.’

‘This isn’t, though, is it? This world is fucked-up big-time.’

‘It’s certainly different,’ he said, starting to smile. ‘When I jumped, I wasn’t scared. I thought you’d try and catch me, at least, but if you hadn’t? I’d still have done something brave. I fought a monster, and there were no guarantees that I’d win, let alone live. That was my choice. That I’m here to say all this is great, but it’s a bit unexpected. I heard my grandfather while I was falling.’

‘What did he say?’

‘
Bole So Nihal, Sat Sri Akal.
’ He looked down at his hands, which had plunged the dagger into Stanislav’s inconstant flesh. ‘It means, “He who cries ‘God is Truth’ is ever victorious.” It’s a war cry, but he’s been gone for years. I suppose I thought that meant I was already dead.’

They looked at each other, and she reached over and squeezed his arm. ‘You look pretty alive to me.’

‘I should say thank you.’

‘You should shut the fuck up, Dalip.’

They sat like that for a while, and he slept again.

33

Down was vast: the White City lay in some uncertain direction to the west where all there appeared to be was ocean, the distance to it unknown, the way unmarked by roads. What else were they going to do? Where else should they go? It wasn’t as if they had anything better to do, had any pressing appointments, or knew of anywhere particular for them to be. If it was five miles or five hundred, it didn’t really matter. Down was all there was, and they had to start somewhere.

Mary flew above them, so high she was barely a speck in the rain-washed sky, wheeling in slow, lazy circles. Dalip had drawn a diagram in soot on the guard-room wall, describing the search patterns she needed to make, covering the maximum area with the minimum effort. She nodded like she’d understood – which she had, she wasn’t stupid – but the idea of flying in lines, back and forth, blocking off one grid square before moving on to the other, didn’t appeal.

Crows, she guessed, wasn’t going to be trying to hide from them. He didn’t know anyone was trying to track him down.

The wolfman had been in the south, but he hadn’t made it back to the castle by that morning. While he was conceivably on his way, his power over them had been broken at the same time as Bell’s. Having tied his fortunes to the geomancer, he’d find himself adrift soon enough. Mary had seen it before, in the bear-pit of children’s homes. The ringleader would be moved on, and the operation they’d left behind would fall apart in recrimination and violence. New alliances and loyalties might emerge, but it all took time.

Bell had gone. There was no sign of her around the castle, and no sign of her setting off after Crows herself. He’d been her lover, and Mary didn’t know what to make of that. Neither of them seemed the sort of people to show any of the weakness that came with love. Perhaps it had just been a mutual abusing of each other’s power. She’d seen that before too.

Now, it came down to her eyesight against Crows’ cunning. She couldn’t see through the canopy of trees that stretched from the castle to the coast, but she didn’t need to. Crows would – sooner or later – send his flock up into the open air as his eyes and ears, to help him find the most direct route to the White City.

If he didn’t do it today, then he’d do it tomorrow. If not then, some day. She’d wait, and he’d give himself away. She held that it was inevitable that they would find him and catch him.

She dipped a wing, relished the feeling of air tearing by, and watched for movement across the landscape below. The tail-end of the storm blew the crowns of leaves into swaying soldiers, marching over the hills down to the sea, a great curved bay that was itself divided again with headlands and inlets. Lines of waves moved white across the water, and seagulls folded and dove on shoals of fish.

Looking for movement, she found it everywhere. Down was alive: it seethed and boiled with life, but none of it was what she wanted.

The morning passed, and the sun rose high in the south. Something else, too. A darkly luminous disc chasing it across the heavens. It took her more than a moment to realise what it was. It was the moon, huge and hidden against the bright blue and cotton-wool white.

She spiralled down, flying low over the trees until she spotted a flash of orange boilersuit. It was Mama. Then she had to look for a clearing, where last night’s, or last year’s, storm had blown a hole in the dense mat of trees to let the sunlight flood in to the under-storey.

She landed on the fallen trunk, already crumbling under her tightening claws, and transformed herself into a girl in a red dress.

‘Dalip,’ she said when she’d found him. ‘That thing that happens when the moon goes in front of the sun.’

‘Eclipse,’ he said. Perhaps some who were that smart would have judged her for not knowing the proper word, but she didn’t feel it.

‘That. It’s happening, now.’

They all walked with her back to the clearing, and peered up at the sky with their hands across their brows.

‘There,’ said Elena, pointing at the ghostly curve of a crater’s edge as it was illuminated briefly, bright enough to cut through the glare. ‘What will happen?’

‘It’ll go dark, and not for minutes, but for hours.’

‘Do we stop, or do we go on?’ Mary asked.

‘Of course we’ll have to stop.’ Mama had already sat down, facing the warmth of the sun while she still had it. ‘We can’t go chasing round in the dark. Besides, my feet are pretty sore, girl, and I could do with a rest.’

‘And there’s no sign of Crows?’ Dalip frowned, looking at the drift of insects turn about the clearing.

‘No. Not yet.’

‘You all right flying further?’

‘Why?’

‘Because Crows has been here a while. He’ll know when the eclipses are due. He might even be waiting for it to send his spies up.’

She was gone almost before he’d finished speaking, up into the air, gaining as much height as she could. As she climbed she could see the black shadow in the distance, its edge defined by a sharp line on the ground that seemed to be rushing towards her like a riot.

Above her, she could feel the weight of rock rolling above her, threatening to crush her. The sun was consumed, piece by piece, by flashes and haloes, until all that was left was a nail-clipping of light.

Gone.

The black disc was overhead, and she felt so light, so giddy, that she thought she could just keep rising until she joined it in its path around Down. In the distance, the western horizon dimmed as the shadow consumed more. Behind her, the east was aglimmer as day returned.

She could see it, the outline of the moon, pale and golden. And when she looked again, the forest had fallen silent. The wind held its breath.

There, in the next valley over, a sudden disturbance as bright-eyed black specks lifted themselves into the clear still air, and spread out like a fan to the north and west and south. She spotted the clearing again where the others rested, and flew low over it, once, twice, three times, reluctant to land even for a moment in case she lose sight of her quarry.

Someone got the idea, and the four of them started off in the direction of her flight.

She rose again and glided high and stealthily, watching the crows as they came and went, their paths seemingly random but always centred on one slowly moving point.

She kept ahead of her friends on the ground, doubling back occasionally and swooping over their heads to keep them on the right track. Slowly, they began to close the distance between them and Crows.

Another dilemma: soon it would impossible for her to hide from the crows, or use her flight as a navigation aid. Crows would melt into the dark, and she would be blind to him, passing within touching distance of him and never seeing him.

Daylight, and the trailing edge of the shadow, was some distance away. Once it arrived, Crows would call his birds back, and that would be that. It had to be now, then. And it had to be her.

She was right above where she thought Crows was. She beat her wings to stall her forward flight, then folded them back against her flanks. She dropped, the air roaring in her ears. She struck the twigs first, shattering them with her outstretched feet, but then came the branches and finally the ground. It was undignified, but it was quick.

She ended up at his feet, sprawled in the leaf litter, with torn leaves and split greenwood pattering down around her.

Crows cried out in alarm, something high-pitched and wailing, then he jumped back.

When she raised herself to her hands and knees, she could see almost nothing: her human eyes were defeated where her hawk’s eyes had been so clear. The vague outlines of trees, the fluttering of birds, their warning-caws urgent – and a boxy wooden crate the size of a suitcase.

That was it. That was what they’d come for. She crawled her way to it and lay over the top, scratched and torn.

‘Hey,’ she remembered to call. ‘Hey, I’m over here. I’ve got them. I’ve got the maps.’

Crows had vanished. Of course he had. He also wouldn’t have gone far. He’d be crouched in the deepest shadow, watching to see whether she was bluffing, waiting for a chance to get his maps back.

There came an answering shout, and she yelled all the louder. Crows might try something in the seconds it would take for them to find her, and he’d be desperate.

Nothing. No attempt to knock her aside, open the chest, grab a handful of maps and run. She thought she could feel the shadows around her shift and swim, but they did that wherever she looked.

Luiza burst into view first, out of breath, hair ragged. ‘Where is he?’

‘He’s here, hiding.’

She turned around, and around again.

‘You won’t see him until he wants you to,’ said Mary. ‘Careful.’

Then Mama and Elena appeared, and it looked like they might actually get away with this. Crows wasn’t going to fight them all, was he?

‘Where’s Dalip?’

‘He’s coming. Slowly, but he’s coming.’ Mama put her hand to her chest. ‘The Lord knows I’m not made for running, girl, but he’s like a wet rag.’

Because she was watching for it, Mary could see part of the shadow beside the tree Mama was leaning on split away and move on its own, back in the direction they’d all come.

‘I see you, Crows,’ she said. She levered herself up off the map box and pointed. ‘If I can see you, I can stop you.’

The shadow hesitated. Dalip was visible in the distance between the trees, uncertain of which way to go.

‘We’re over here,’ she waved. ‘We’re all over here.’

The shadow fell away, although Crows was scarcely more visible without his cloak of night. His nervous, uncertain smile was his only discernible feature. Above them, the moon still dominated the dark sky.

‘You appear to have the advantage, Mary,’ he said.

‘Too fucking right.’ She waited for the crows to settle in the branches above their heads, their glassy black eyes watching everything that happened. ‘You stole my map,’ she said.

‘A moment of weakness on my part. I would be glad to return it to you.’

‘Not so fast, you bastard. That map is mine, and you don’t get to decide whether you give it back or not. But we’re taking all these maps: Bell’s and yours too.’

Crows gasped like a thwarted pantomime villain. ‘Would you beggar me, Mary? Would you leave me poor in this world?’

‘You left me to fight Bell on the mountain, while you ran back to the castle and stole my map.’ She could feel her fingers twitch, and the leaves and sticks around her grow light. ‘Yes. Yes, I would leave you with nothing.’

‘I saved you on the mountain. I gave you the chance to escape. I taught you to fly. Your harsh treatment of me does not repay my good deeds, Mary.’

Dalip came up behind Crows and stood at his shoulder.

‘Is this him?’

‘I’d introduce you, but he doesn’t have many reasons to stick around any more. Right, Crows?’

Crows seemed to realise that he was in trouble. He spread his hands wide. ‘Perhaps, then, we can come to an arrangement? My maps can be part of any deal.’

‘You mean our maps,’ said Dalip and went to sit on the roughly finished wooden crate.

‘You see,’ said Mary. ‘We can take it from here. We don’t need you.’

She listened to her own words, and saw how Crows’ smile slipped and faded, an eclipse of his own making.

‘How much – how many maps – are in the box?’

‘Wealth unimaginable,’ said Crows.

‘I can imagine a lot,’ she said, thinking back to the jeweller’s window with its bright lights and pretty stones. She watched Crows’ own fingers flex. Would he fight her now? Did she care enough to want to avoid that?

‘Is it enough for six?’ she asked.

‘More than enough,’ said Crows. ‘But …’

‘Mary,’ said Luiza, ‘we cannot trust this man.’

‘I know, I know. I know what it’s like to pitch up in an unfamiliar place with no friends. Better make them quick or you’ll get thrown to the wolves. In our case, that’s literally what happened. What we should do is ditch him and find someone who won’t screw us over the first opportunity they get. The problem is, where do we get them from? Everyone here is on the make, or working for someone who is.’

‘If it will help, I apologise for my past actions, and look to make amends in the future.’ Crows bowed low to them all.

‘You serious, girl?’ said Mama, stepping forward to examine the man minutely. ‘This weasel? He hung you out to dry, and we don’t know exactly what happened between him and that woman Bell, either, that let him get her maps too. Something shifty, I don’t doubt. Isn’t that right, Mr Crows?’

‘Madam, I want to explain.’

‘Oh, save your explanations. I don’t believe a single word that comes out of your mouth, and neither should anyone else.’ She jabbed him in the chest, just in case there was any doubt who she was referring to.

Crows stayed silent as Mama circled him, grunting with disapproval.

‘So what do we do?’ asked Dalip. ‘We’ve got his maps. Do we need him too?’

Mary gnawed at her knuckle. If only Crows wasn’t such an inconstant bastard. She liked him despite that, despite everything, but it wasn’t up to her. Crows could be useful to them, if they could tame him and stop him from trying to steal the maps back at every opportunity.

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Where are we going now?’

‘This White City,’ said Luiza. ‘The maps, and your sight, will tell us which direction to take. We do not need him.’

‘Crows: where were you going?’

‘The White City,’ he said.

Mary pursed her lips. If they were all going in the same direction, then why not travel together? There were still five of them to one of him.

Dalip sat up and drummed his heel on the side of the crate. ‘It’s not any of us who are really going to White City. It’s the maps that are going: we’re just accompanying them. Who actually owns them is … Look, if we can get paper and ink we can copy them, as many times as we want.’

‘No, no, no,’ started Crows.

‘Shut up,’ said Mama. ‘Go on, Dalip.’

‘Granted that their value goes down with every copy that we make, but we’re not primarily interested in selling them and using them as wealth. What we want is the information the maps contain, and whether we can use it to get back home. That doesn’t degrade, no matter how many times we copy the maps, and if we can make a bigger, better map that contains all the details from the smaller maps, then we might even make it more valuable.’ He shrugged. ‘If Crows wants the originals after that, then he can take them, and it won’t bother us at all. How does that sound?’