Authors: Peter F. Hamilton
Edeard gulped in shock, and took a step back as the kidnapper’s soul diffused gracefully out of his body. The spectral entity hovered over the corpse for a few moments, then ascended into the ceiling and was lost to Edeard’s farsight.
‘Did you sense that?’ he asked the squad in astonishment.
‘Edeard?’ Kanseen asked. ‘Is it safe?’
‘Uh, yeah. That was his soul, wasn’t it?’
‘His soul?’ She edged cautiously across the remnants of the door. Any curiosity was instantly forgotten as she saw Mirnatha.
‘Whose soul?’ Macsen asked brashly as he followed Kanseen in.
Edeard couldn’t take his eyes off the ceiling where the soul had vanished. ‘The kidnapper’s.’
‘Did you get shot?’ Macsen asked in concern.
‘No.’
A moan from Mirnatha succeeded in drawing Edeard’s attention back down. ‘Don’t let her see this,’ he blurted. There was blood and gore all over the cellar. And the bodies. A scene that was even worse in the cellar at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Are all of you okay?’
‘Oh,
now
you ask,’ Boyd joshed.
‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ Dinlay said. His constable tunic was covered in blood.
Edeard’s third hand snapped the iron shackles round Mirnatha’s wrists. Kanseen blinked at the nonchalant show of strength. ‘You carry her,’ she said, stroking the girl’s brow, gentle with concern. Her hand and sleeve was speckled with arterial blood.
‘But—’
‘This is your victory,’ Kanseen insisted.
Edeard nodded. ‘Thank you. All of you.’
Boyd’s solemn face broke into a wild smile. ‘By the Lady: we
got her
! We bloody did it.’
They were all laughing in shaky relief as Edeard scooped up the small child, and carried her out of the cellar. People were crowding round the top of the stairs as he made his way out of the smoking chambers. Workers and family members with worried faces and probing farsight. That worry changed to consternation as the Waterwalker himself emerged into their midst. They backed off fast.
‘No good trying to hide,’ Boyd said as they made their way out through the shop at the front of the building. ‘The local constables will be calling.’ He paused. ‘That’s if the Culverit family guards don’t pay you a visit first.’
Edeard stepped out into the midday sun, blinking at how bright it was. It seemed as if he hadn’t been outside in the light for a week, yet it was less than an hour since Homelt had taken them to the mansion’s cellar. He got his bearings swiftly enough, and started walking down Layne Street.
Mirnatha stirred as they turned into Arnold Avenue, heading for Pink Canal. She started suddenly, looking round frantically.
‘It’s all right,’ Edeard told her. ‘We’re taking you home to your family. Your father and sister are worried about you.’
She gave him a wide-eyed stare. ‘You’re the Waterwalker.’
‘Yes. I am.’
‘They took—’ she cried. ‘I was in a dark room. I couldn’t farsee anything. They were horrible— I— I—’
‘It’s over. Look. It’s a bright sunny day. We should be back at your home in time for you to see the flower boats.’
She clung to him. ‘What happened to the bad men?’
‘You won’t see them again, I promise.’
There were a lot of people lined up along the side of the canal, standing at least six deep as they waited for the end of the ceremony in the Lady’s grand church. It was mostly excited children at the front, clutching their flower boats; with parents standing behind, pleading and warning not to put their craft into the water until the Pythia was finished. Edeard actually smiled as he finally saw the multitude of flower boats being held ready. They were spectacularly beautiful; from endearing little paper craft with a couple of daisies clutched by toddlers, to elaborate vessels with a rainbow of blooms crafted by proud older children. Their happy faces were wonderfully uplifting.
He started to make his way through the crowd. Heads swivelled in his direction. Surprise turned to shock when they saw the squad; uniforms covered in blood, tired yet cheerful, with the Waterwalker himself carrying the kidnapped girl who smiled up at him with shy adulation. Silence fell. The crowd parted, giving him a clear path to the mooring platform at the end of the avenue.
Someone started clapping. Whispers of amazement turned to exultant longtalk and shouts of approval. More people were joining the applause.
‘It’s the Waterwalker.’
‘They’ve rescued the girl!’
‘Mirnatha is alive.’
‘Dear Lady, look at the blood.’
‘It’s his whole squad.’
‘They did it, they saved her.’
Three gondolas were secured to the platform, each of them garlanded with hundreds of snow-white flowers. Edeard stepped on to the first boat as the gondolier took his hat off and held it to his chest, staring at Mirnatha. ‘Get us to her mansion,’ Edeard told him.
‘But the festival . . .’
‘The Pythia’s ceremony isn’t over yet. And I think Mirnatha deserves to go home, don’t you?’
‘Yes, sir. Of course.’ He picked up his punt.
By now everyone was packed right up to the edge of the canal. The applause and cheering put Edeard right back to that day in Birmingham Pool. ‘Let’s see how quick you are,’ he told the gondolier as they pushed off.
It wasn’t far. They went down to Forest Pool, then up the Grand Major Canal to the Culverit mansion’s private mooring platform at the edge of High Pool. Mirnatha sat up on the prow, looking from side to side in utter bliss as waves of applause and cheering followed her progress home.
‘Do you think they’ll even bother with the vote tomorrow?’ Macsen said quietly as he waved at the enthusiastic onlookers crammed along the canal. Flower boats were being held aloft and waved in heartfelt greeting for the little girl. The whole canal rippled with dramatic colours.
‘Not a lot of point,’ Boyd replied.
‘Can you boys just enjoy the moment,’ Kanseen said. ‘I mean, come on, we’re getting some adulation this time, too.’
‘I’m going to be sick,’ Dinlay said, dabbing at the congealing blood on his uniform.
‘Don’t you dare,’ she told him crossly.
Mirnatha gripped Edeard’s arm. Her other hand pointed ahead to the mansion’s mooring platform. ‘I see Daddy,’ she squealed. ‘And Krissy. They’re both there.’ She started to wave frantically, longtalking for all she was worth.
‘And Mistress Florrel isn’t,’ Boyd muttered contentedly.
The gondolier steered them smoothly into the side of the platform. Julan snatched his daughter out of the craft, hugging her and weeping uncontrollably. Kristabel joined in. Mirnatha began to chatter at an incredible speed, telling them what had befallen her. One last final
hurrah
broke out among the crowds, running the whole length of Grand Major Canal.
Edeard and the squad stepped on to the platform. Homelt stood in front of him, and bowed his head. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Though the Lady knows how you pulled off that stunt. There is
no way
out of that cellar.’
Edeard gave him a knowing grin. Then Julan grabbed him roughly by both shoulders and pulled him close. ‘I thank you, Waterwalker, I thank you from the very bottom of my heart! My baby, my baby is saved.’
‘I’m sorry we didn’t take you with us, sir,’ Edeard said. ‘But my squad is a good team, we work best by ourselves.’
Julan couldn’t stop crying. He clutched Mirnatha tighter. ‘I understand. Thank you all. You were right. I was wrong. Please, I was crazed with worry . . .’
‘Nobody was wrong, sir. Mirnatha is back home. That’s all that matters.’
‘Yes, yes.’ He lifted his daughter up again. She giggled and kissed him. ‘Whatever you desire in this world, it is yours, and still it will never be enough to express my gratitude to you all. Say it, and I will see it is done.’
Macsen put on a wholly reasonable expression and opened his mouth. Kanseen’s third hand poked him in the ribs. He looked pained, but didn’t say anything.
‘We really are just doing our duty, sir,’ Edeard claimed.
‘What nonsense. I will start my payment by welcoming you to our family’s celebration feast tonight.’
‘That’s very kind of you, sir,’ Boyd said hurriedly, before Edeard could say no. ‘We’d be honoured.’
‘Thank you, Waterwalker,’ Mirnatha giggled. She leaned forward in her father’s embrace and gave Edeard a messy kiss.
‘Yes,’ Kristabel said, appearing directly in front of Edeard as her father made his way up the steps at the back of the platform. ‘Thank you indeed.’
He didn’t quite know what to say, so settled for a modest shrug. She was still in her flimsy white cotton nightdress, though a grey-green woollen shawl was wrapped round her shoulders. Her hair wasn’t quite so wild now. The squad edged closer.
‘You kept your word,’ she said.
‘Er, yes. Actually, it was a pretty stupid thing to—’
Her finger touched his lips. ‘No. It was the greatest thing you could possibly do. No wonder the gangs and Masters are so frightened of you. I have faith in you, Waterwalker.’
‘Mistress.’ He made a real hash of a formal bow, producing something more like a nervous twitch. Kristabel all serene like this was quite impressive. Imposing, actually.
‘Ah yes, Mistress,’ she said teasingly. ‘Well, as future Mistress of Haxpen, I shall require the first dance with you at our family party tonight. And the last. And, I think, every one between.’
‘Oh.’ Edeard paled. He was a rotten dancer. ‘My pleasure.’
Kristabel’s smile widened to include all the squad. ‘Please, today my house is yours. And every day to come. The view from the upper hortus is the best in the city from which to watch the flower boats on their way to the sea. And you must bathe and freshen up. I’ll see that the staff find some clothes that fit, ready for the party.’
Edeard watched her start up the wooden stairs to the fabulous ziggurat mansion towering above them. The hem of her nightdress flapped around her knees.
I must not look at her legs. I must not.
Kanseen’s head slipped sinuously over his left shoulder. ‘You do know, don’t you,’ she said quietly, ‘that you can’t actually sleep with every girl in this city?’
Edeard looked at Kristabel’s legs. Slim, yes; but rather shapely, too. ‘I know,’ he said wistfully.
Kanseen kissed his ear playfully. ‘But you could do a lot worse than Kristabel.’
The night was as black as only Hanko’s thick curtains of storm-cloud could make it. Wind howled around the ice boulders, creating strange antagonistic harmonics. While overhead occasional forks of lightning turned the tragic landscape into a monochrome silhouette.
Right at the edge of the Asiatic glacier a flare of tangerine light burst into existence, creating an eerie aural blaze around the top of the titanic cliff. It vanished in an instant. The ice trembled in reaction. After a while, the spray of tangerine light gushed up again. Brighter this time. Larger ice fragments jumped and juddered at the vibrations hammering through the surface.
A pause filled by the eternal yowl of the blizzard.
The light appeared once more. This time splinters of ice erupted from the top of the cliff, swirling away into the mile-high abyss. A hand wearing a thick grey gauntlet crept up and patted the surface, scrabbling for a firm purchase.
Aaron heaved himself up, and rolled on to the top of the glacier. After a moment he clambered to his feet. He swept the surrounding area with his biononic field scan function, seeking traces of the ground crawler. The trail it had taken was plain enough, retracing its original route through the boulder field.
He started to run after it.
He was very VERY angry.
The Clippsby cafe on Daryad Avenue served exactly the kind of breakfast Oscar loved. Industrial strength coffee, bacon baguettes, and almond croissants with a dip pot of agal syrup. Despite the three of them wearing the Ellezelin police uniform the owner served them readily enough. The only other customers were also Ellezelin troopers grabbing a late breakfast between alerts. This morning should have been so different. Everyone in the city had stayed up, accessing Justine’s heroic dash for the Void. Unisphere and gaiafield alike were enraptured by the appearance of the Second Dreamer, rumour and speculation were currently the foremost indulgence of billions. Yet here in Colwyn the atmosphere of wonder had been ripped to pieces by the welcome team’s raid. There had been a lot of people in the park outside the apartment block. They’d reacted predictably enough to such a brash act, taunting the paramilitary troops on the cordon. It was touch and go if a full riot would erupt. As a result, the city seemed even more paralysed than yesterday. Very few citizens were going in to work. They were either too fearful of getting caught up in disturbances, or they were heading out to join the crowd in Bodant and other hot spots where they might get lucky and give some hapless foreign trooper a good kicking. Either way, not much was open in the centre of town.
Oscar accepted another refill from the waitress, smiling in gratitude. The cafe owner might have cajoled her to serve him, but she certainly didn’t have to smile back as she was pouring. ‘So what now?’ he asked Tomansio as the woman stomped off and the privacy shield shimmered on around their table.
‘Information is the key, as always,’ Tomansio replied, trying not to frown at the food piled up in front of Oscar. For himself he’d ordered a smoked gruslet and cream cheese sandwich to go with his green tea. ‘We know without any doubt that the Second Dreamer was in that apartment block. Which means either the welcome team have him, and major Honilar will find that out for sure in the next six hours, or he escaped before we got there.’
‘We were there fast,’ Beckia said. ‘I don’t think I could have got out, not without a lot of fuss.’
‘This man is smart,’ Tomansio said. ‘Using Danal’s apartment was a superb misdirection.’
‘But how could he have got out?’ Oscar asked. ‘They would have seen any capsule lifting from the apartments.’
‘Stealth?’ Beckia suggested. She wrinkled her nose in dissatisfaction. ‘But if he’s got a stealth capsule why would he actually commune with the gaiafield from Danal’s apartment? That doesn’t make any sense.’