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  The girl looked frightened. ‘Los Fien. Next Early-Eve. I got it.’

  ‘Not Cal, though,’ said Rollo. ‘Tell everyone but her.’

  Naif and Rollo left Illi and waited on the platform for a cable kar. They needed to hurry now. Walking the paths would take too long. They had to cover as many of the clubs and churches and kafes as they could on the way to Los Fien and tell all the young ones.

  Will they come? Naif wondered. Will it be enough if they do? She feared for them all. If Lenoir had been taken by his rivals then there was no one to stop Brand and Modai.

  She dropped the silk scarf over her head and leaned close to Rollo, as though they were any other couple.

  ‘Remember our first trip on Ixion,’ he said softly. ‘Everyone took off their clothes and you got mad because I kissed that girl.’

  ‘I didn’t get mad. At least, not because of that. It was just . . . too strange. I didn’t trust anything,’ she whispered.

  ‘I wanted to make you jealous,’ he said. ‘I thought you were something special.’

  Naif stood very still. She didn’t want to hear this from Rollo. Not now. He was her friend. He made her mad sometimes, and sometimes she thought him dependable. That was enough. ‘We’d just met.’

  ‘You felt that way about Markes the first time you laid eyes on him. What’s the difference?’ he said.

  She had no answer for that. It was true.

  After a bit he spoke again. ‘I just wanted you to know, you know. Before we go to Danskoi again. Last time . . . I didn’t get a chance.’

  ‘But Suki . . . I thought you . . .’

  ‘I do. I mean Suki is like . . . hot. She’s fun. But she’s not you, Naif.’

  Naif wanted to put her hands over her ears. This wasn’t right. She forced herself to look him in the eyes. ‘You said it would have been better if I’d died.’

  He let out a breath he’d been holding. ‘I was mad. Lenoir’s a . . . beast, a murderer . . . and yet I can tell you care about him. I want you to care about me like that.’

  Naif heard the kar rumbling in to the station. ‘I’ve never said I care about him.’

  ‘You don’t have to,’ said Rollo. ‘It’s that bond thing. He has you forever, doesn’t he?’

  ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘I asked Cal. She knows about the Ripers. She said it’s until one of you . . .’

  ‘Dies?’ said a voice.

  Naif jumped away from Rollo and looked around.

  Cal stood at the top of the platform stairs. She advanced on them in careful steps. The white hair that Naif had always found so striking flowed around her shoulders. She would have been beautiful if her expression hadn’t been laced with such poisonous anger. ‘What are you doing back here? Where is Markes?’

  The kar pulled in behind them and people jostled past on their way into Illi.

  ‘Get on board, Naif,’ said Rollo, stepping backwards.

  But Naif faced her squarely. ‘Ixion is run by the Grave Elders and the wardens.’

  Cal gave a deprecating laugh. ‘Is that why you’re here? To spread Ruzalia’s lies?’

  ‘They’re not lies. I’ve seen it, Cal. I’ve heard them speaking to Brand. The Ripers are harvesting our blood to keep themselves alive and they’re providing the Elders with some of it.’

  ‘You’re saying our Elders are cannibals?’

  ‘In a way, yes. But they’re using an extract of our blood . . . our youth . . . to reverse their own ageing.’

  Cal laughed outright. ‘You’re insane.’

  ‘Naif!’ called Rollo from the door. ‘It’s leaving!’

  The kar’s bell tolled its departure note and young ones gave them curious looks as they ran up the stairs from the club to catch it.

  Naif took a step backwards. ‘You know I’m not, Cal. Think about it. The things you’ve seen. What they did to Markes.’

  ‘What I know is you took him from me.’

  To Naif’s utter surprise tears began to trickle down Cal’s face. ‘You and your frossing brother are dangerous! Brand knew that from the start. She should have dealt with you back then but Lenoir interfered. He saved you and he paid for it.’ Without warning, the girl lunged towards her.

  The attack came so suddenly that Naif didn’t move.

  But Rollo did. He reached out and snatched Naif through the kar’s closing doors, so that Cal slammed into the side, her face pressed against the glass, fingernails scratching the metal.

  The kar began to pull away and Cal ran with it, stumbling in her heels, shouting at them.

  ‘Fross!’ said Rollo, scratching his red curls. ‘Now who’s insane!’

  ‘Wardens are so mean,’ said Naif, trembling. ‘Her father is one. She wouldn’t know any other way.’

  ‘I wouldn’t waste too much sympathy on her, Naif. She’d push you under a cable kar and then want to back it up.’

  Rollo was right. And now Cal would go to Brand and Modai.

  ‘We should begin,’ she said, glancing around at those in the kar. Most of them weren’t even pretending not to stare while they murmured in each other’s ears.

  ‘Ixion’s saviour should go first,’ said Rollo lightly.

  His gentle dig refocused her and she went to stand in the centre of the kar, spinning a slow circle so she could see everyone.

  ‘I’m Naif. Some of you will know of me,’ she said loudly.

  ‘Hey! You’re the one who hit the Riper with the chair,’ said a guy in front of her.

  ‘No,’ countered a girl across from him. ‘Naif left. Ran off with the pirate.’

  ‘And they kidnapped that guy who played the guitar,’ another added.

  Naif let them swap opinions until they’d exhausted all rumour and falseness and looked back to her expectantly.

  ‘Tell everyone you know to come to Los Fien by the next Early-Eve. There’s something you all need to know and I’ll explain it there.’

  ‘What do we need to know?’ shouted someone she couldn’t see. ‘Why should we listen to you anyway?’

  Naif looked carefully at them, letting the depth of her conviction – the truth – show in her face. ‘Your badges are going to expire and you’ll die. That is, if the Ripers don’t kill you first when they withdraw you.’

  There was some derisive laughter but many stayed quiet, digesting her words.

  ‘Tell us what you know,’ said the boy who’d spoken first.

  She shook her head. ‘You will have heard rumours about trouble at Danskoi. Come and hear the truth before it’s too late. Tell your friends.’

  Naif walked over to stand next to Rollo. Conversations started up around them, buzzing with what she’d said, weighing its veracity.

  ‘Bravo,’ Rollo whispered. ‘I think they believed you.’

  ‘Some did,’ she said. ‘Some will pretend they’ve never heard it. Some will say I’m fou.’

  ‘Fou?’

  ‘It’s Suki’s word. It means mad.’

  ‘Well, you’re that for sure, but not like Cal,’ said Rollo. He grimaced. It wasn’t a time for lightness. ‘It’s why the Ripers have been able to use us. We see what we want.’

  ‘You saw the truth in Grave when you spied the Riper speaking with the Elder. If you hadn’t told me that I would never have gone back there. I would never have known there was a link between Grave and Ixion,’ said Naif.

  ‘Has finding out the truth made anything better?’ he asked her earnestly.

  ‘If Ruzalia comes . . . if we can hold off the Ripers . . .’

  ‘Some of them will hate us for it.’ He crooked his head at the young ones in the kar.

  Naif sighed. ‘But they’ll live. Surely that’s better?’

  He hunched his shoulders. His face was drawn and serious; freckles stark against his pale skin. Naif tried to remember him on the first day on Ixion when his complexion still carried the sun’s ruddiness and his cheeky manner had so grated on her.

  She wished for that Rollo to come back.


  They left the kar at Club Abraxas and went inside.

  ‘No Ripers that I can see,’ said Rollo.

  ‘We must be quick then, before one comes.’

  As soon as there was a break in the music, Rollo took the stage.

  ‘Los Fien. Early-Eve. Come and listen or you’ll all die.’

  Naif stood next to him on the dais, letting herself be seen, letting her conviction show. ‘He’s right. Hear the truth and live,’ she told them.

  Ignoring the catcalls and shouts for more explanation, they walked on to Bella Death. The paths between the clubs were crowded with partygoers and Naif felt grateful for the safety of their presence. The Night Creatures wouldn’t attack her here. Not yet.

  Inside, Bella Death was decorated like a dark cocoon. The black walls bulged inwards, forcing the clubbers together, raising noise and body heat. Pale, human-like skulls dotted the ceiling, gaping down on the young ones, and iron shelving lined the walls. Some of the revellers had climbed onto the shelves and were dancing and . . . other things.

  Naif had never been in Bella Death before and followed Rollo’s lead. He pushed through to the centre of the club and over against one side, next to a ladder. Its rungs were embedded in the rock.

  ‘The music never stops in here. We’ll have to shut it off,’ he shouted in her ear.

  ‘Where?’

  He pointed up to a platform that hung above the room on a scaffold. Lights flashed from its centre in a quick and blinding sequence.

  Naif followed him as he climbed, barely hearing those cheering them above the crashing metallic music.

  Rollo swung from the ladder the short distance across to the platform and reached a hand back for her. After he pulled her to him, he stepped over to a small spinning object. Without hesitation he kicked it as hard as he could. The flashing lights flickered and extinguished and the music stopped.

  For a few moments the crowd went crazy, screaming and swearing at them. Then someone from the shelves opposite them yelled louder than the rest.

  ‘That’s her! The one who smashed the Riper.’

  Suddenly, the club calmed, faces turned towards them.

  Naif spoke quickly into the silence, delivering her message.

  But the crowd at Bella Death jeered and booed, not wanting to hear it. Then a fight broke out and the effect of it rippled throughout the club in moments.

  ‘Let’s head to Goa,’ Rollo said, close to her ear. ‘There’s nothing more we can do here.’

  A sense of hopelessness found root in Naif’s stomach as they took to the Goa path. No one would come. They wouldn’t be able to distract the Ripers and save Clash and Suki and the rest of the League. Ruzalia wouldn’t come. Nor would the uthers. Kero would perish. Her plan wouldn’t work –

  Rollo’s voice cut her train of negative thoughts. ‘From what I hear, the Freeks have taken over Goa from the Wings.’

  ‘You mean since Kero left them?’

  ‘Kero didn’t leave the Wings, he just didn’t want to lead them anymore after Krista-belle.’

  ‘So where are the Wings now?’

  ‘Dunno. Agios maybe.’

  ‘We need them. With them and the Freeks we can take the League’s weapons to Los Fien.’

  ‘What about the Ghosts?’

  Naif pictured the gang who dressed themselves in cloaks stitched from the wings of dead bats. They were the smallest of the Ixion gangs, and the most low-key.

  ‘There’s no time to find them as well.’

  He nodded. ‘You’re right. They may not come anyway.’

  They stood outside Goa, looking at how the lamps lit the gaudy carvings in the door panels.

  ‘I hate this place,’ said Naif, taking a deep breath.

  ‘It’s definitely fou,’ Rollo admitted. ‘And the bugs, roaches . . . ugh.’

  He pushed one of the double doors open and they entered.

  Discordant music, the smell of incense and a chaos of altars and prayer spaces assaulted their senses. Naif guessed that the stairs on one side led to the gallery, but two guys with crude batons stood at the foot of them, blocking the entrance.

  There was no order in Goa. No serenity. No holiness. All the other churches clung to that, Naif thought. Despite the fact that they were no longer places of worship, each harboured a sense of sanctity. In Goa, you could pray, but not for any god that might bring peace or salvation.

  Most of the young ones she could see wore spiked collars and wrist bands and elaborate piercings. Freeks. Ixion’s next biggest gang after the Wings.

  Again she followed Rollo’s lead. He knew more people, knew more about the gangs.

  ‘I want to speak to Balta,’ he said to a girl with spirals of studs embedded in both cheeks.

  ‘Who wants him? And why?’ she asked, narrowing her eyes at Naif. Her studs glittered when she spoke, giving the allusion that they were moving.

  ‘Rollo. I’ve got a message from Kero of the Wings.’

  ‘Kero ain’t boss of the Wings no more.’

  Rollo crossed his arms. ‘Just tell Balta. Now.’

  Naif saw the girl clench her fists a little, as though she’d like to use them against him.

  ‘Hey,’ said Naif quickly. ‘This is important. Really.’

  The girl cocked her head to one side, slouching against a wooden pillar. ‘You’re Clash’s sister, ain’t you? You tell your brother about me, maybe I can go find Balta.’

  Naif fixed her with a calm stare. ‘Clash has been taken by the Ripers.’

  The girl jerked to attention. ‘No fross?’

  Neither Rollo nor Naif replied.

  The studded girl swallowed hard. ‘I’ll get Balta.’

  They waited by the door, the focus of both curious and hostile stares. The Freeks began to gather around, but not too close, as if Naif and Rollo might be tainted.

  Rollo kept his arms crossed, his stance firm. Naif knew he had to do that. Look bold.

  ‘What’s a Leaguer doing in the Freeks’ place?’ asked a voice to one side of them.

  Naif swivelled. A heavy-set boy, taller than them both, with most of his hair shaved off and more piercings than skin, stood at the foot of the stairs. His two guards had moved to flank him, their batons raised. Naif didn’t recognise him from the meeting in the Grotto. Balta must be a new leader.

  ‘I’m no longer with the League,’ said Rollo.

  ‘Yet you bring Clash’s sister with you? Why is that?’

  ‘I can speak for myself,’ said Naif.

  ‘Then talk,’ said Balta.

  She glanced briefly at Rollo. ‘The Ripers have captured the League and taken them to Danskoi.’

  He scowled at her. ‘Bad news, but I don’t go out of my way for Dark Eve. She brings trouble on herself.’

  ‘Her trouble is your trouble,’ said Naif.

  She knelt and untied Kero’s bandana from around her ankle then stood and held it out. ‘We are all in danger, and Kero is risking everything to buy us time.’

  He took the bandana and turned it over in his hands, fingering the blurred ink letters.

  ‘He lost his girl at Danskoi,’ said Balta. ‘Broke him up.’

  ‘I know. I was there.’

  Balta crushed the bandana into his palm. ‘Some say you’re the reason he did. They say the Night Creatures wanted you.’

  Naif didn’t waver from the truth. ‘They did. And the reason for that takes time to tell and has no weight compared to what we have to say now.’

  ‘His girl had her neck snapped, right in front of him. Her eyes squeezed from their sockets and you say it has no weight?’

  Naif gritted her teeth, fighting back the image of Krista-belle’s death. ‘Don’t twist my words, Balta. Don’t waste our time.’

  He opened his hand and let the bandana slip to the floor.

  Naif watched but made no move to pick it up. She would not let this boy make her cower.

  Rollo tensed and she willed him not to interfere. She had to win Balta’s support alone
.

  ‘The League’s camp is empty, all the weapons they’re making are still there. You can have the spears and slings if you help us.’

  His eyes gleamed. ‘Who are you to make such a bargain? If the League is gone I can just take what’s left.’

  ‘The uthers no longer help the Ripers. Soon there’ll be no clothes in your lockers, no food for you to eat. You will either starve or die a slow death as your badges expire.’

  Naif saw a flicker of anxiety cross his face. Enough, though, to tell her that his badge was fading.

  ‘You lie,’ he said.

  She held out her hand and turned it palm upwards. ‘My badge has been revoked. I’m safe. You can be too.’

  He stared at the mark on her skin. It had faded in the weeks she had been away, leaving a mere outline, as though someone had traced ink around a bruise.

  Balta’s eyes widened and his breath quickened. He licked his lips. ‘Come. We’ll talk in the gallery.’

  Naif nodded and bent to retrieve the bandana.

  Seated on worn leather stools around a table littered with brass smoking pipes and empty food plates, Naif and Rollo told Balta all they knew of Ixion, Grave and the Riper’s ship. They told him of their plan, and Kero’s sacrifice.

  ‘He is the best leader for the Wings but when Krista-belle died he lost heart for it . . .’ Balta’s hard, arrogant expression became angry. ‘I respected him.’

  ‘Are you with us on this?’ asked Naif softly.

  He picked up the pipe and inhaled deeply. When he let out his breath, puffs of it drifted towards Naif. The scent was sweet and heady.

  ‘You say the uthers can reverse the badges?’

  She nodded.

  He took another drag on the pipe, slower and deeper this time. His eyes glazed a little and his breathing became more even. ‘We’re with you.’

  Neither Rollo nor Naif spoke about Goa until they were back at the Abraxas station. The platform overflowed with young ones carrying unlit torches, waiting for the kar.