Shine Light (13 page)

‘Now you must tell me. How will we find the queen?’

Before she answered, she considered the notion that he would harm her once she had told him.
No.
Their bond would protect her. She
had
to believe that.

‘First you must answer me something.’

He cocked his head, both suspicious and intrigued. ‘What bargain do you now seek?’

‘Not a bargain but your explanation will help mine.’

‘Go on.’

‘What do you know about the Golden Spiral?’

It was Lenoir’s turn to hesitate.

‘Did you come from the sky in a ship?’ she asked.

He nodded.

‘And did the landing of your ship somehow damage this island?’ she prompted further.

‘We are from a place so distant and foreign that you could not imagine it. But our food sources had become scarce there. Our ship was sent to look for other worlds that might support our kind. The Tri-Suns caught us in their gravity and we were left with a choice: land here or burn to our deaths. Our landing was uncontrolled and our food regenerator damaged.’

‘What is a regenerator?’

‘We can do and make many things your civilisations have not yet dreamed about.’

‘What sort of thing?’

‘Well, the vessel that carried us is able to project a hospitable environment around itself for a large distance.’

‘Hospitable to you, you mean?’

‘Yes. We need the darkness. It’s what we’ve come from.’

‘You mean your vessel caused the darkness around the island
and
the sea to rise. You broke apart a land once called Lapith.’

He stared out of the carriage window to the peaked spires of majestic Illi. ‘The sea suffered some displacement from our vessel’s mass, yes. Mainly, though, this area is volcanic and the crash exerted pressure on a fracture in the seabed. Some of what you called Lapith sank and Ixion was born.’

Naif did not exactly understand him. She knew nothing of seabeds and displacement and only a little about the nature of volcanoes, but her common sense told her this could be true.

‘So you are the ones who brought the darkness here and the changes to the sea? You made the Golden Spiral?’

‘Yes.’

‘Was your craft damaged beyond repair?’

‘Do you think we would not have left, little bat, if it was not? Your world is not what we wanted.’

‘Where does the vessel lie?’

Lenoir turned his gaze back to her. ‘You have many questions and yet you have not answered mine.’

‘These are my last and then you shall have what you need.’

‘Merpati is lost to us in the sea. All we know is that she is still there. While the darkness remains she has not deserted us.’

Merpati
. The name Liam had overheard. No wonder they had wanted rid of him. She gave Lenoir a questioning look.

‘After the crash, we found our way to land. When the worst of the disruption had settled, we searched in all directions for her but the waters to the south-east of the island were too rough. Even the pirates would not sail there,’ said Lenoir.

‘What about the uthers then? Where is their place?’

‘They have a dam at the bottom tip of the crater. Not far from where the barge comes in.’

Naif pictured the map in her mind. The uthers’ dam must be north-west of the atoll. ‘But the waters where the barge lands are calm.’

‘It’s true,’ he said. ‘The passage we use to bring you in is sheltered by sand banks. Beyond that, though, the sea is wild and wilful.’

Naif felt a tingle of connection. ‘What if Brand has located your vessel and hidden the uther queen inside?’

Lenoir leaned forward. ‘Explain yourself.’

‘We found maps of the island made after your crash – as the darkness began to encroach. Ixion was much larger, a place called Lapith, as I said – but you caused parts to become submerged. There is one spot left that is above the sea but no longer joined; a tiny atoll beyond a reef. Perhaps that is not a sprig of land but your Merpati.’

‘Why do you think that?’

‘I’ve learned that Brand would come to Vank in secret and read these books. There were signs she’d been looking at a particular map of Ixion, showing an atoll that was not there before you came. We compared it to earlier maps.’

Lenoir’s jaw took on a grim set. ‘We should go to the uthers’ dam first. Ask one of them to accompany us to this atoll. If we find the uther queen we may need them to convince her we mean no harm.’

Naif looked at him solemnly. ‘Do you, Lenoir?’

‘I do not.’ He took Naif’s hand gently and brought it to his mouth. The lips he pressed to her skin spoke of something much greater than passion. ‘Our ways need to change, Naif, if we are to survive.’ He hesitated then, as if wishing to say more. Then he stiffened.

‘What is it?’ she whispered.

He slid down to his knees on the floor of the carriage. ‘Should I not be able to . . . should something prevent me . . . there are words I would say now.’

She waited, suddenly on edge. Something was wrong. Something had changed.

He licked her thumb with the tip of his tongue, savouring the taste. ‘When we bonded I expected nothing more than I had experienced before. I did it only to thwart Brand.’

‘To show your dominance.’

He nodded. ‘My species is ancient and ruthless, our history one of survival. There has never been a place in our hearts for solace or for quiet belief. We challenge and then we war and move to repeat that cycle. When you and I bonded, though, I gained something I’d never had before.’ His voice grew hoarser as he spoke. ‘You gave me moments of peace, Naif. It’s impossible for you to know what that has meant. With your compassion and your loyalty you have soothed an eternal unquenchable blaze that has consumed me.’

He bent his head low over her hand and she felt the wetness of tears on her skin. ‘The boy you call Rollo rests in Illi now. Take him with you to find the uther queen. If I am not waiting for you when you return, find Test in Danskoi. She will help you.’

‘Lenoir, please . . . what is it?’ Naif slid her free hand to his face and cupped his chin, tilting it upwards so she could see him properly.

As she did, dread gripped every part of her. She barely recognised him. His perfect cheekbones had been supplanted by brutish bone structure, his brow suddenly heavy and his lips hidden behind jutting teeth. His eyes had sunk back into his skull and the smooth texture of his skin had shrunk away leaving only twisted dark striations like bleeding cords masking his face.

A growl began, deep in his chest; a deep-earth tremor, growing, building to its peak. When it subsided he spoke in a strange voice. ‘Fasten the door behind me. Wait until it is quiet then go into Illi and seek out your friend.’ He took her hand and placed it on a small protrusion at the side of her seat. ‘When you return, press this panel and the carriage will take you both to the uthers’ dam, and bring you back here when you need it.’

Then, without warning, he sprang out of the carriage, slamming the door behind him.

Naif heard a hissing sound like steam escaping from a meat boiler. She pressed frantically at the trim around the carriage window, trying to find a way to make it turn translucent, but it stayed opaque. The door handle was jammed.

Outside, the noises escalated. The hissing changed to snarls, and then an incoherent language shouted between cracking noises that made bile to rush to her mouth. Bones. Someone . . . something . . . was breaking bones while she sat just a few breaths away.

Lenoir? Lenoir? What’s happening?

Naif grabbed the seat as the carriage rocked from an impact and then settled. Were they trying to get to her? But the door stayed intact, the handle unmoving.

She felt Lenoir’s anger swell to something so immense and dark that it threatened to possess her thoughts.

Then as quickly as it had taken her, it left, and outside the noise abated until the only sound she could hear again was the dull thrum of music from Illi.

Naif ran shaky fingers through her hair. Her scalp and palms were damp. She tried the handle again. This time it opened easily.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed, terrified by what she might find.

Lenoir . . .

But he was not there. No one was there.

Carefully, quietly, she slid her feet to the ground. The lights from Illi showed uprooted bushes and gouge marks in the earth. Dark stains as well.

She knelt and touched one. A dark substance stuck to her fingers. She smelled it. Riper blood – almost black and emanating a sour scent.

She couldn’t control the terror shooting through her. What if Lenoir was dead?

No.
Surely she would feel it.
Surely.

She tested their bond. Faint but there. Or did she trick herself?

Go into Illi and find your friend
, Lenoir had said.

How did he know Rollo would be there – and would he help her even if he was? Suki said he’d been lost to them since Danskoi.

Naif stood and rubbed the blood from her fingers onto her pants. Whatever happened she needed to keep moving. The Cursed League and the others here and on Sanctus had little enough time. Her stomach knotted at the thought of Clash, Suki, Markes and Charlonge – all of them – in Danskoi. How terrified they must be. Or had Brand suspended their consciousness? What would she find when she got to them?

Lenoir said they had time. She had to believe him. She had to . . .

No one recognised her as she entered Illi. The grand marble church was not decorated for a ball as it had been the last time she’d seen it. Though the wall hangings and the gleaming furnishings were the same, Markes did not play from the pulpit for an entranced audience, and Lenoir did not watch her from the gallery above. There were no tables laden with honey bread and mulled grape.

Instead, young ones drifted from table to chair, laughing, talking and eating. Though it had only been a few weeks since she’d left Ixion, Naif was momentarily captivated by their exotic appearance. Many of the girls wore hats adorned with long, delicate feathers, reams of lace or clusters of sequins. The boys’ attire ranged from black silk pantaloons to leather to satin. Silver chains and buckles and studs hung from their wrists and decorated their shirts and belts and boots.

They seemed untouched by the disunion between the Ripers, yet they must have sensed it; must have seen some changes. Lenoir’s presence had been so pervasive before. Now it would be Brand’s stamp on their thoughts and deeds.

Feeling conspicuous in her stained pirate’s hand-me-downs, Naif hastened to the stairs. Lenoir had said Rollo slept here, which meant he’d be in one of the rooms above that were kept ready for
petite nuit
.

She searched in every room along the long corridor, her heart hammering with fear that she might be discovered by a Riper. Finally, she found him in the last room. He wasn’t alone. Bodies lay in the other five beds, not asleep but in a dreaming state akin to it. Naif remembered the strangeness of
petite nuit
and the confusing transition to wakefulness. Since having her badge revoked she had been able to sleep again, though she never seemed to get enough of it.

She crept to Rollo’s side and leaned over him. His eyes were wide open, unseeing, and he smelled of stale sweat combined with the faint sweet perfume of beads. It distressed her to think that Rollo had put aside his reason for coming here and fallen back to partying. He’d been the one who’d seen the Riper in Grave. He’d been the one who’d convinced her there was a connection.

She touched his arm. His skin was pale and clammy and he appeared thinner. Even his red hair had lost colour and sheen. The beads did that to you, Charlonge had told her once. But Naif had only ever taken them a couple of times.

‘Rollo,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘It’s Naif.’

He twitched and scratched his stomach but kept staring ahead.

She tried again, remembering that it took some time to leave
petite nuit
behind.