Authors: Jenna Burtenshaw

Tags: #Fantasy

Wintercraft (36 page)

BOOK: Wintercraft

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‘It appears I am not the only one who can look into the face of death and survive,’ he said. ‘I was starting to believe you had gone too far.’

‘Where’s Artemis?’ asked Kate, sitting up. ‘And Edgar?’

‘They are here. We have both done as we promised. I may not be dead, but I am free of Da’ru and your uncle is still alive. My honour is satisfied, as is yours. As of this moment, we owe each other nothing.’

Silas held
Wintercraft
tightly. The book’s ancient leather felt rough against his fingertips as he passed it to Kate, and he felt a warm flood of energy rush across his skin as the new blood within him reacted to her being close by. ‘This book is as much responsible for my situation as Da’ru herself,’ he said. ‘It has made me what I am and I do not want anything more to do with it. It belongs with you now. Keep it safe. Let no one know that you have it, and do not be afraid. You will become used to the veil in time.’

Kate looked down at the book, not knowing what to say.

‘Many souls are free because of what you have done tonight,’ said Silas. ‘Da’ru never could have opened this circle on her own. If it belonged to her it would have died when she did, but she was not in command of it. You were. Your energy created this circle and your link to it acted as a beacon when you fell into death, allowing lost souls to pass freely into death’s current and letting them finally find peace. You have a rare gift, Kate. Do not turn your back upon it.’

Silas stood up. ‘There is no place for me in this city any more,’ he said. ‘I suggest you leave here as soon as you can. Hundreds of people saw your face here today. Many of them will fear you, and there are those who will hunt you for what you can do. You must disappear. Do not let them find you and, more than anything else, be careful of whom you trust.’

Silas turned to walk away and Kate called after him.

‘Goodbye,’ she said. ‘And thank you … for what you did.’

Silas looked back and nodded once. ‘Goodbye, Kate.’

Then he stepped out of sight behind one of the council carriages, and was gone.

‘Kate!’ Edgar ran up to her with Artemis and Tom close behind, and Artemis pulled her into a crushing hug.

‘You’re alive!’ he said, almost squeezing the life back out of her. ‘I thought you were gone. I thought …’

Edgar hung back awkwardly as Artemis took his time and, when he finally let her go, Kate hid
Wintercraft
under her coat before letting Edgar help her up.

‘Things got a bit crazy out there, didn’t they?’ said Edgar. ‘Silas is gone, so it looks like everything’s … Hey! What happened to your eyes?’

‘Why?’ said Kate. ‘What’s wrong with them?’

‘Nothing’s
wrong
, exactly. They’re just a bit … different.’

Kate headed to the nearest carriage and looked at her reflection in the dark window. Her eyes were a completely different colour; her irises were rings of deep black, edged with blue, and her pupils were glazed with a sheen of silver that could only be seen when the light caught them a certain way.

‘Most of the Skilled spend years looking into the veil before it affects them like that,’ said Edgar. ‘But I’ve never seen silver in anyone’s eyes before.’

Kate looked towards one of the lower gates just in time to see Silas riding a stolen carriage horse out of the square.

‘Do you feel all right?’ asked Edgar.

‘I’m fine,’ said Kate, not wanting to admit that her eyes felt like she had been staring too long at the sun, and when she looked down at the ground the symbols closest to her feet still looked like they were glowing with gentle light.

‘The wardens won’t just let us go, not after all of this,’ said Artemis nervously. ‘Edgar, can you drive a carriage?’

‘Tom’s a better driver than I am. Why?’

‘I think we should take one and find somewhere safe before the council send their men back here to find us.’

‘If we need a place to hide, we should go to the Skilled,’ said Edgar. ‘Tom and I know the way. They trust us.’

‘No!’ said Kate. ‘I can’t go back there. Silas killed two people while I was with them. They’ll think I did it!’

‘Then we’ll just have to put them right, won’t we? Those eyes of yours will definitely give them something to think about. They won’t turn us away.’

‘The Skilled it is then,’ said Artemis, nodding with the wariness of someone not used to making big decisions.

‘Kate?’ Edgar said carefully. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’

Kate was looking up at the galleries as the last few people trickled out of the city square. Even though it was no longer active, she could see the symbols around the edge of the enormous listening circle as clearly as when it was linked to the veil. She could see traces of hidden energy sealed within its central stones and as she walked over the symbols she could feel it too, like gentle vibrations beneath her feet. If this was what Silas had been talking about, he was right, it was definitely going to take some getting used to.

The moon hid briefly behind a bank of purple cloud and the stars shone down upon the glowing circle. The energy was so clear, Kate did not know how she could have missed it before. And she was not the only one attracted to its light. A large black bird flew smoothly across the empty square, spread its wings and soared powerfully over her head, swooping down to land upon the bloodstained table.

‘Can you see that?’ she asked, as the bird perched beside the body of the dead crow.

‘See what?’ asked Edgar.

Kate walked slowly up to the bird, not wanting to scare it away and when she got closer she realised that she could see right through it. Its feathers had no substance and it passed in and out of sight, watching her all the time.

‘It’s Silas’s bird,’ she said.

‘Yeah, I know,’ said Edgar, thinking she was talking about the body on the table. ‘It’s a shame, I suppose. Who wouldn’t want a crazy feathered thing flying around taking orders from a madman? If you ask me, it got off lightly. Who’d want to spend all their time with someone like Silas? It’s probably relieved to be free of him. I know I am.’

Kate stood beside the crow’s body and watched its bloodied feathers ruffling in the wind. Silas had saved her life. He had spared Edgar and saved Artemis, and that bird meant something to him. If its spirit was there, maybe it had not yet gone fully over into death. If there was any way to thank Silas for what he had done, surely this was it.

Gently, she picked up the body - it was lighter than she had expected - and balanced it carefully between her hands, concentrating upon healing the wound, just like she had done with the man in the river. Nothing happened and she was worried the bird might have been dead too long. But then, like a subtle heat growing from her bones, she felt the energy of the veil pass softly through her hands, spread into the crow’s delicate body and out across its skin, healing the muscles and binding the flesh until the faint throb of a heartbeat fluttered against her palm.

The crow’s spirit gathered into a thin grey wisp and sank like smoke back down into its body. Kate waited, hoping that the heartbeat would last … until one limp wing flapped back into life, then the other, striking the air and sending the crow tumbling out of her hands and on to the table. It scrabbled drunkenly up on to its feet and shook its feathers before screeching out a call that echoed loudly across the city square.

‘Go to your master,’ said Kate, picking up the crow and holding it high in the air. ‘Go to Silas!’

The bird took flight, swooping across the square and soaring out over the city, calling out victoriously into the night.

‘Come on,’ said Artemis, climbing into a carriage as everyone else watched the bird fly away. ‘We’re wasting time here.’

With everyone safely on board, Tom steered the horses expertly through the square’s lower doors and out into the streets. The roads outside were littered with the remains of the night’s celebrations and, despite what had happened in the city square, there were still hundreds of people dancing together, sharing stories of what they had seen, determined to keep celebrating until the sun rose again.

Edgar sat next to Kate, his hands and face cut by the broken window during the warden attack, and Artemis sat opposite them, his leg stretched on the seat beside him, his forehead wrinkled with thought. Kate wanted to heal them both, but she knew she did not have the strength. Using the circles had left her weak and tired, and healing the bird had taken the very last piece of energy she had. All she could do was sit there, watching the city pass by, feeling the secret weight of
Wintercraft
hidden safely beneath her coat.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Edgar. ‘The Skilled will help us. I’m sure everything will be all right.’

After all that had happened, Kate wasn’t so sure about that. All she had at that moment was the brief safety of the carriage and the rhythmic rumble of its wheels as it carried her on towards an uncertain future in an unfamiliar city.

‘I hope you’re right,’ she said.

Halfway across the city Silas and his stolen horse thundered along the streets, racing towards the southern gate and the freedom of the wild counties beyond. Silas knew every inch of that city and most of the City Below, but Fume was no longer his home. To him, its walls had been a cage for too long. Now he was free.

The gate guards saw him coming long before he reached them, his grey eyes gleaming fiercely in the dark. They unbolted the gate without waiting for his command, letting the horse and its rider gallop out into the wilds, leaving Fume and all its history behind. Silas carried with him questions the city could never answer and an ambition the city could never help him reach. As a traitor he would be a hunted man, so he would find a ship and travel to the Continent, far away from Albion and the High Council, its laws and its men. Kate Winters had allowed him to take revenge against his greatest enemy and she had given him his freedom. The rest he was going to find on his own.

Silas followed a gravel road running alongside the red train’s tracks and he came across an old signpost marking a trader’s path that was long overgrown. There, sitting on top of the sign was a crow exactly like his own, except for a short line of white feathers running right down the centre of its chest. A spark of familiar intelligence shone in its eyes and Silas slowed his horse to a stop beneath it.

‘Crow?’

The bird sat still, its eyes still fixed upon the path.

Silas was about to snap the reins, cursing his mistake, when the crow looked at him, spread its wings and circled him once before flying down to take its place upon his shoulder. Silas ran his fingers down the bird’s white feathers where the wound from Da’ru’s blade should have been.

‘Well, Miss Winters,’ he said, looking back at the city one last time. ‘It seems I do owe you something after all.’