The navigator (28 page)

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"They were taking me to the Harsh, to the Great Machine in the north. Johnston was going to give me to the Harsh," Owen said.

"They take you to Puissance; that where you must go. Only place to use Mortmain."

"I don't understand. What do I do? Where is the, the ... Puissance?"

"You not know?" she said disbelievingly. "You not know!" And her mocking laughter filled the whole room.

"How should I know?" he said angrily.

"Do not be cross with me, my dear friend," the Long Woman said, suddenly stooping to him and taking his face between her thin, strong fingers, her face hovering over his so that she looked like a snake ready to strike. "Do not shout at me or I snap your neck like small twig. You pay attention?"

"Yes, yes ... I'm sorry." Owen did not doubt for one moment that she meant what she said. She scrutinized his face, as if to make sure that he really was sorry.

"Better," she said. "Your father not tell you where Puissance was?"

"My father is dead."

"I see now. Father should tell son these things. I tell you. You are on frozen lake now. River not freeze, go too fast. Lake freeze. Frozen lake goes all the way to coast. There is Puissance. Many mile."

"How are we going to get there?" Owen said, his heart sinking.

"I look after how. You know what to do, you get

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there?" He shook his head. "Who help you? Your friend, she good for fight, not for think."

"Can you help me?"

"Not like that. I cannot leave lake. Is forbid. But I can show you a little." She knelt on the floor and took a long pin from her hair. Using the tip of it, she traced out a map. First of all a jagged coastline, then an inlet, which showed a lake narrowing to a thin neck, then open sea. Opposite the mouth of the inlet she drew an island.

"Island is like mountain outside, like castle inside. Stone underneath, very deep. Great Machine is down in rock, very deep." She drew another wide line in the sand going from the coast to the ice island. "Is ice bridge for Harsh to get to island. They no like water. Like ice."

Maybe I could cross the ice bridge as well, Owen thought, shivering at the idea of the sea.

"Come with me," the Long Woman said, standing up swiftly. "We have to get you quick to coast." They walked up a long passageway and she opened the door at the top. They stepped out into a blizzard, snow driving at them horizontally across the lake.

We'll never get to the coast, Owen thought as he tried to shield his face against the icy blast. But the Long Woman led him on until they reached an enclosure of living willow.

She opened a gate and motioned Owen inside. He stepped in and she closed the gate carefully behind him.

It was calmer in the enclosure. The willows broke the force of the wind, although their straight trunks looked

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suspiciously like bars. The Long Woman looked upward and whistled softly. Owen was surprised to see several dogs sprawling across the branches of a large tree growing in the middle of the enclosure. The dogs were like massive greyhounds with long hair and handsome, aristocratic faces. They were different colors, but one was coal-black, and this was the one that the Long Woman summoned.

"Arcana," she called softly. The black dog stood up, stretched in an almost catlike way, and turned his head toward them. Owen took an involuntary step backward. The dog's eyes burned red like hot coals. "Arcana, there are guests for journey."

Arcana stretched again and gave a single sharp bark. Suddenly the snow that lay deep on the floor of the enclosure started to stir. Other dogs were sleeping under it, and one by one they stood up and shook off the snow. Owen realized that the Long Woman had kept one hand on the bar of the gate. The dogs were all facing toward them, and from one of them came a low growl.

"Not to be trusted," the Long Woman said softly. "No, not to be trusted. Arcana!"

The black dog uncoiled and slid to the ground in one easy movement. It stood with its back to Owen and the Long Woman. One by one the other dogs backed away and sat down, except for one brindled dog who stared past Arcana at Owen, her eyes burning. Arcana took several paces forward. Without warning the brindled dog

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lunged at the black dog. But her teeth clicked shut on air, and suddenly Arcana was on her back, his teeth buried in her neck, driving her down until her growls turned to whimpers and a trickle of blood ran from the spot where Arcana's teeth were fixed. When he was satisfied that she was subdued, Arcana released her. With her tail between her legs, the brindle dog slunk off to join the others, although not without a sullen and dangerous look over her shoulder at Owen.

The Long Woman then opened the gate and led them all out into the snow. Suddenly Owen understood what she was doing. Standing in the lee of the enclosure was a sleigh, incredibly long and thin, consisting of a carriage mounted on two long, narrow blades that curved up at each end.

"Is ice runner," the Long Woman said. She took down a long harness that was hanging from the willows and started to put it on the dogs, each of which stood patiently in its place. Arcana took up position at the front. "Dogs will run all day all night. You start now. Get to Great Machine Puissance in time."

"What about my friend?"

"You want take her? Maybe she no go. Maybe she stay for dinner." The Long Woman smiled, showing sharp little teeth, and Owen shuddered as he remembered the strange feast he had seen laid out.

"No, no ... I'll take her with me ... if that's all right."

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When they got back to where Pieta lay sleeping in front of the fire, the Long Woman leaned over and whispered something in her ear. There was a pause, then Pieta leapt to her feet, looking around her mistrustfully.

"It's all right, Pieta. This is the Long Woman. She is helping us."

"I know who the Long Woman is," Pieta said. "I called her to help us."

"Good thing I hear," said the Long Woman, "else Navigator die in snow, all lost forever."

Owen saw the startled look in Pieta's eyes, although she tried to hide it. The Long Woman saw it too. "You not know boy Navigator?"

"Some of us thought he might--"

"Who else could boy be?"

"Some ... some people didn't want to believe it," Pieta said.

"They said my father stole the Mortmain." Owen felt anger wash over him.

"Navigator cannot steal Mortmain. Navigator is Keeper of Mortmain. Cannot steal what you own."

Owen was more confused than ever, but Pieta was nodding thoughtfully.

"Is time to go," the Long Woman declared. "Dogs get tired waiting; they eat each other for entertain."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the Navigator is," Owen said.

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"Not time," the Long Woman said in a cool, dangerous voice, but Pieta held up her hand. "Quick then, quick, quick."

"The Navigator is the person who forms a link between the temporal world--your world, Owen--and the islands in time. The Navigator has the power of waking the Resisters from Sleep."

"The Navigator is Keeper of Mortmain," the Long Woman said. "The Navigator is forever bound to the Resistance. The Navigator is the faithful. The Navigator is the betrayer."

"Betrayer?" Owen said, bewildered. "I've never betrayed anybody."

"The Navigator has betrayed the Resisters in the past," Pieta said gently. "That's why Samual was so hostile when he suspected that you were the Navigator."

"And my father? They thought he betrayed them as well."

"Yes, but I did not believe it then and I do not believe it now."

Pieta and Owen followed the Long Woman out into the snow. The dogs were whining and snarling, eager to be off. Pieta looked at them suspiciously.

"Get in," the Long Woman said. For a moment Owen thought that Pieta was going to refuse. Quickly he got in, hoping she would follow him. It was surprisingly warm in the sled. A hooped leather cover kept the snow

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off, and underneath the cover were warm, soft skins he could pull up to his throat.

"Come on," Owen urged. Reluctantly Pieta clambered in. The Long Woman handed a set of reins to Owen.

"You will not need them," she said. "Arcana knows what he has to do. Take this." She handed Owen a crude iron knife. "Cold iron. Harsh don't like it. Stick it in door, they can't open it." Owen put the knife inside his coat.

"Also this." The Long Woman took a pin from her hair, a small one this time. She bent to the ground and dug in the snow with her long hand. Owen looked down. She had uncovered a tiny white flower. She plucked it and pinned it to his coat.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Fleur-de-lis," she told him.

The dogs were getting anxious now. One of them started to howl and suddenly they all lifted their heads and howled, the hair on their backbones standing on end. Owen thought he could see the static crackling in their coats. The Long Woman suddenly seemed even taller. Her long shadow fell over them, so black and hard that Owen could almost feel it. Over the howling of the dogs she spoke out in a terrible and ancient language. The dogs howled even louder and pulled at their traces until she raised her hand and brought it down in a slicing motion. First Arcana and then the rest of the dogs leapt forward.

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The Long Woman leaned over Owen as the sledge shot past her and it seemed that he could smell her perfume, heavy and cloying, with something of the earth about it, something of the grave. A look of terrible regret was on her face, a look of anguish endured over years. Owen drew back from her, and even Pieta drew her breath in sharply, and then they were gone. The snow around them flew up into the air and there was a sound like a great sigh. For a moment they were blinded and when the snow fell to the ground again and Owen looked back, he could see nothing but a little wooded island breaking the vast flatness of the lake. The island dwindled even as he looked, the only sound the runners of the sleigh as they hissed across the ice.

Three miles south, a river ran parallel to the lake, going toward the sea. It was a fast river, tumbling through gorges, and its speed and savagery meant that it would not freeze. A careful watcher might make out a dark shape being carried downstream by the furious current. It was a raft. At the front of the raft sat Johnston. Maria-callas was steering the boat with a crude oar. Passionara sat in the middle of the boat, maintaining a stream of venomous cursing. Johnston was grim-faced and there was a bandage about his head. He carried Whitwashisberd's ledger under his arm.

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Try as she might, Cati could not get used to die little fluctuations in the flow of time, which increased as they went north. One minute she would have just got into the bed she had made for herself, ready to go to sleep, and the next she would be back standing on the freezing floor. Or time would flicker the other way, forward, when she was about to take a bite out of an apple, and then she would find herself standing there with an apple core in her hand. It got so that she couldn't remember what she had done and when she had done it, even if she had done it at all. Wesley looked bewildered every time it happened to him.

Only Dr. Diamond didn't seem to mind. He spent all

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his time at the rail with his binoculars, studying the twisting shape on the horizon.

"What is it?" Cati asked him.

"I think it is what we are looking for," he said quietly, "although I still don't know what we're going to do when we get there." He weighed the Mortmain thoughtfully in his hand.

"And the Harsh will be waiting for us," the Sub-Commandant reminded them.

On and on they sped. The Grim Captain never seemed to leave the wheel. His eyes were fixed on the horizon. Cati saw the three Raggie boys gather often just beneath the bridge, talking intensely among themselves. She asked Dr. Diamond what they were talking about, but he just smiled--sadly, she thought--and said that if the Raggies wanted to tell her, then that was their business.

The weather had settled into bitter cold, with little wind, and at night the stars shone brilliantly, although Cati noticed that sometimes they seemed a bit elongated, stretched out of shape as though they were painted on some flexible material and somebody had pulled it. And still the shape on the horizon grew, so that it was now a funnel, narrow at the bottom and wide at the top. Except that this funnel twisted and writhed and seemed to go on without end into the sky.

After two days on the ship, Cati overheard Dr. Diamond and the Sub-Commandant talking together anxiously.

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"I haven't seen him since last night," Dr. Diamond said.

"He hasn't been himself lately," said the Sub-Commandant.

"Have you searched?"

"Yes, but it's a big ship. If you don't want to be found, you could hide for days. But he is somewhere on board. I can feel it."

Cati knew that they must be talking about Chancellor and she realized that she hadn't seen him since the first night they came on board.

"It's very worrying," Dr. Diamond said gloomily.

"I know where to find him," said a voice beside Cati, making her jump. It was Wesley. "I know where he is, and I reckon it was him tried to sink my Boat. Come on!"

"Shouldn't we tell the others?"

"I want to have a word with him about Boat first. Are you coming or not?"

Cati turned and followed Wesley. He led her through the door in the bridge and past the stateroom. They went down one stairwell after another, each one colder and gloomier than the last.

"Where are we going?"

"Engine room," said Wesley grimly, "and be careful."

The condition of the ship down here was even worse. There were great jagged holes in the gangways, and broken metal stairways spiraled off into nothingness. And all the time Cati could feel the booming and clanging of the engine getting nearer and nearer. Finally, they reached