The Blackwatch filed out and Bandermain’s sharp coughs echoed from the walls as they walked away. The lock clicked behind them and Silas was left alone.
Kate did not bother trying to sleep. Once Baltin had gone she slid a small package out of a special pocket she had sewn inside her coat, and unfolding a neatly arranged wrap of black cloth she uncovered a book bound in old purple leather. If Baltin knew she had that book he would have taken it away from her at once. It was as thick as her fist, and her fingertips tingled with cold as she touched the silver lettering on its cover.
Wintercraft
Wintercraft
was one of the rarest and most dangerous books in Albion. Within its pages was the life’s work of a group of Walkers who had lived centuries before Kate was born – people who could enter the veil, just like her – along with the many experiments they had conducted into what they found on the other side. The Skilled did not like the practice of Wintercraft. They saw the veil as something to be studied, not entered and experimented upon, and Kate had witnessed the damage that the knowledge within this book could do for herself. It had almost cost Kate her life on the Night of Souls, and it had endangered the lives of hundreds of people who had seen it put to work within the city square, but
Wintercraft
was a part of her. She had to protect it.
Many of its pages had been written by Kate’s own ancestors, and her parents had died trying to protect it from the High Council when she was just five years old. The book held answers that the Skilled were unable to give her about what it meant to be a Walker, and even though parts of it were difficult to understand it had become a comfort to her. Only Edgar knew that she still had it. With nothing else to do in that place, she wrapped herself in the bed blanket and began to read.
The hours snailed by, and Kate found herself dozing over the open pages, dreaming of shades, listening circles and wardens. Her mind wandered back to the time she had spent with Silas, to the faces of the people he had killed and the souls of the people he had helped her to set free, and the memory of it jolted her awake. She scrambled out of her blankets, reached for the security of her candle and lit a second one from a box on the room’s curving shelf, just in case the first flame went out. The shades had gone and she had already put out the other lights, not liking the shapes they cast up the walls. A scar on her left arm stung a little; a thin line left from a cut made weeks ago when Silas had stolen her blood. ‘Silas,’ she whispered to herself.
Then the scratching sounds started.
Krrrr … krrrr … krrrr …
It sounded as if something was trying to claw its way into the room.
Suddenly two candles were nowhere near enough. Kate dragged the candle box from the shelf and held handfuls of them against the open flames, dripping a trail of wax on to the floor beside her bed and standing the candles up in it one by one. She held one in front of her, trying to pinpoint the sound, but it seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. Then she pressed her hand against the door and tiny vibrations thrummed against her fingers. Someone was outside, trying to scrape their way in.
The scratching stopped and she crouched in front of the door, peering out through the middle keyhole. She heard something snap and something metallic rang out against the lock and skidded off across the cavern floor. Someone swore under their breath and Kate pulled back as a metal wire stabbed through the keyhole, dangerously close to her eye. ‘Who’s out there?’ she asked, but no one answered. She moved to the upper lock, hoping to get a look at her visitor’s face, but all she could see was a mess of black hair bent forward as its owner concentrated on his work.
Kate tugged her sleeve down over her right hand and waited by the middle lock for her moment to strike. When the wire poked through again, she snatched at the hooked end and pulled hard. The wire threaded straight through the door and when Kate looked through the keyhole, Edgar’s eye was looking back.
‘What are you doing?’ he demanded.
‘What are
you
doing?’
‘Getting you out of there.’
‘It sounds as if you’re trying to wake the whole cavern,’ said Kate. ‘Just leave me alone. I’m fine where I am.’
‘Leave you alone? In there? Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? I’m sure you’re having a great time sitting in the dark.’
‘I was asleep actually,’ she lied.
‘Glad you’re having fun.’
‘Go away. Before someone sees you.’
‘Give back my wire.’
‘No.’
‘Kate, come on. I’m trying to help.’
‘I don’t need your help.’
Edgar fell quiet. ‘I’ve got it all planned out,’ he said at last. ‘We can get out of here. Find our way to the surface. I’ve even got supplies.’
‘No.’
‘Just think about this for a second.’
‘I have thought about it,’ said Kate. ‘Baltin was right. I don’t trust myself. Weird things keep happening around me, and I don’t want you to be caught up in it again. Maybe I am better off in here. Go and find your brother. Take him up to the surface if you want to. I’m staying here.’
‘No you’re not,’ said Edgar, walking away a few steps before coming back. ‘You think I need lockpicks to get you out? Well, I don’t. Baltin has the keys. Maybe I’ll just borrow them for a while.’
‘You can’t do that. You’ll get caught.’
‘And what? End up in there with you? It sounds like it’s all honey and roses from what you’re saying. Why should I be bothered about that? I’m getting that key and then I’m coming right back here, whether you want to be let out or not.’
‘Edgar, don’t. Edgar!’
Edgar bolted across the cavern. The lights were still dimmed and the only people about were the two watchmen posted at the cavern’s only two ways out. He crept along the street, glanced over at the main door and saw a guard sitting with his back to the wall, eating sandwiches and reading newsposters smuggled down from the City Above. Just one minute and he could be in and out of Baltin’s house, keys in hand. No one would be any the wiser until it was too late. He and Kate would be long gone. He thought about his brother Tom. Tom had fitted in well with the Skilled. He had even shown some small ability to see into the veil. They were pleased with him, and he liked living there. Tom might miss Edgar for a while, but he was in the safest place he could be. Kate, however, was not.
Edgar made his decision. He crossed the main street, found one of Baltin’s windows unlocked, and slithered his way in.
5
Crossed Daggers
Kate paced around her room, waiting for Edgar to return.
At last a key scratched in the first door lock. One by one the locks turned and Kate stood in front of the door with her arms folded as it was pushed open. But the person on the other side was not Edgar. It was Baltin, wearing red pyjamas and a dressing gown and holding on to the doorframe for support. He looked tired. His face was an odd sickly green.
‘Baltin?’
Edgar was there, holding a lantern a few steps away, and he shrugged his shoulders apologetically.
‘Miss Winters.’ Baltin bowed his head slightly and strode into the room. The bed sagged as he sat down on it. ‘Close the door,’ he ordered as Edgar followed him inside. ‘Close it, boy!’
The door could not be locked from the inside, so Edgar stood with his back pressed against it instead.
‘What’s happening?’ asked Kate.
Baltin shifted his weight on the edge of the bed, and sat there with his head in his hands.
‘I found him tied up in his house,’ said Edgar. ‘He won’t say who did it. He told me to bring him straight here. He didn’t even call the guards.’
‘Because the
guards
will be of no use to us,’ snapped Baltin. ‘An enemy is loose in this cavern, and I think Kate knows who it is.’
Kate thought at once of Silas, but that was impossible. There was no way he would risk coming back to Fume with the wardens out looking for him.
‘The veil has pulled away from us,’ said Baltin. ‘I can’t see into it any more. Can you?’
Kate could sense the veil all around her, waiting just beyond the reach of her ordinary senses. Nothing had changed so far as she could tell, but if Baltin thought there was something wrong it was best for her to play along. She shook her head.
‘This is worse than I thought,’ said Baltin. ‘You have to talk to him, Kate. You have to stop him. Whatever he’s doing. He has to stop.’
‘Who?’
‘Silas Dane.’
‘You saw Silas?’ Kate asked. ‘Here?’
‘Who else could have attacked me?’
‘Silas wouldn’t do this,’ said Kate. ‘Not here. He wouldn’t risk being seen.’
‘He’s done a lot worse,’ said Edgar.
‘But why Baltin? And why bother tying him up? Silas wouldn’t do that. It wouldn’t serve any purpose. It can’t be him.’
‘No one else knows how to find this cavern. He’s the only one who …’ Baltin’s voice tailed off, and he looked anxiously around the shadowed room. ‘He’s already in here, isn’t he?’
‘You have the only key to that door,’ said Kate. ‘There’s no one else in here.’
‘You’re lying,’ said Baltin. ‘You’re protecting him. Why is he here? What does he want?’
Kate grabbed a lit candle and circuited the room, lighting up every space the flame could reach. ‘See?’ she said. ‘No one’s here.’
‘Then he is still outside. You brought him here. I have to warn people. Get out of my way!’ Baltin pushed Edgar aside and peered out of the top keyhole. ‘It’s too late,’ he whispered.
Kate stepped forward and looked out for herself. From the lowest keyhole she could see right down to the illuminated archway of the meeting hall. There was no one out there. Everything was quiet. But when she looked out of the one Baltin had used, it was blocked and black.
‘He’s right outside,’ whispered Baltin.
‘No one is out there,’ said Kate. ‘There’s something stuck on the door, that’s all.’ She did not stop to think about what that something might be as she opened the door, ignoring Baltin’s protests, and peered round it. A large piece of black-edged paper had been pinned over the lock, and she noticed at least a dozen others spread around the cavern. Most of them were scattered loose on the floor, but a handful had been pinned to a few doors. She pulled the paper down as Edgar joined her outside.
‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘What does it say?’
Kate looked at the blood-red letters scrawled thickly on the page.
You have our demands.
Deliver what we require.
There was a mark printed at the top of the page – a pair of crossed daggers with two letters underneath.
BW
.
‘It has to be the wardens,’ said Kate. ‘What does BW mean?’
But Edgar was already gone. He was back inside the lockhouse, stopping Baltin from leaving the room. ‘The person who attacked you,’ he said. ‘Did he say anything?’
‘Move aside, boy.’
‘Did he give any names? Anything?’
‘The veil has drawn back,’ said Baltin, looking at Edgar as if he was losing his mind. ‘Silas Dane is responsible for this, and he will be stopped. Nothing else matters now.’
‘No. This is nothing to do with Silas,’ said Edgar.
‘And how do you know that?’
‘Because of this.’ Edgar stabbed a finger into the mark on the poster. ‘Haven’t you heard of the Blackwatch before?’
‘I don’t have time to listen to this,’ said Baltin. ‘We all know what is going on here.’
‘You have to listen! When I worked for the High Council people would find posters like these outside the council chambers every few months. The Blackwatch are part of the Continental army. The person who attacked you tonight was probably a runner. The Blackwatch send them to Albion now and again to remind the High Council that they can send assassins to their door at any time and to let them know that the Continent is not just going to go away. Sometimes they bring demands, other times they just spread their posters and go. The wardens used to do a good job of covering it up whenever there was a runner in town, but I’ve never heard of one being sent into the City Below before.’