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  ‘Where are you all going?’ asked Rollo.

  ‘Los Fien,’ replied the boy nearest him. ‘Some big thing’s happening there. The uthers have vanished too. There’s no food. You should come. Bring your own light.’

  Rollo grinned. ‘We’ll be there.’

  ‘It’s starting at Early-Eve but we’re going early so we can be at the front.’

  ‘Smart,’ said Rollo, glancing at Naif.

  They caught the kar with them, squeezed in among the jostling bodies.

  ‘A girl called Kara runs the Wings now. She prefers Agios,’ Rollo whispered in Naif’s ear.

  ‘What’s she like?’ she asked him.

  He pulled a face. ‘You’ll see.’

  They left the kar two stops later at the Agios station. Unlike the Abraxas stop, the platform was quiet. As they hurried down the stairs towards the wrought iron door, Naif felt the brush of fingers at her neck. Her skin pimpled and she whipped around, hands raised.

  ‘What?’ cried Rollo.

  But there was nothing behind her.

  ‘I . . . thought I . . .’

  He leaned close to her. ‘Are you all right?’

  Naif ran a nervous tongue over her upper lip. Her palms felt slippery as she clasped them together. ‘They know what we’re planning. They’re following us. Between them and Cal, the Ripers will soon know.’

  Rollo grabbed her arm and began to drag her inside. ‘Let’s hurry.’

  She resisted him, throwing her body sideways against him so they both careened into the door.

  ‘What the . . .?’ he gasped.

  Naif breathed heavily in his face. ‘There’s a Riper inside.’

  After a moment, they both peered around the door. A tall, pale, emaciated creature leaned against a column, watching the young ones.

  Naif recognised him from the chamber below Syn. He was one of Varonessa’s; she’d seen him at her side during the Ripers’ meeting.

  ‘Sorry,’ whispered Rollo. ‘I nearly –’

  She shook her head. ‘We’ll wait until he goes.’

  The pair backed to the edge of the stairs and crouched in the shadows.

  At every moment, Naif feared a tentacle would lash out from the darkness and take them. She felt the Night Creatures around her stirring.

  Not yet, she pleaded with fate. Not yet.

  Rollo steadied her rising terror with a warm hand on hers. He was scared too, but stubbornness and pride kept him from showing it.

  Boots sounded lightly on the stairs. A sliver of wind cooled the roots of her hair and she saw the Riper glide up towards the station and disappear.

  They waited a while longer, to be sure.

  A kar rattled in from the other direction and the influx of young ones tumbling down the steps into Agios gave them courage to leave their hiding place.

  Naif and Kero followed them inside, where the glow of the gold inlaid marble floors of the cruciform and the ornate wall friezes were like a stab in her chest. Before she’d left Ixion, she’d looked down on Agios’s beauty from the gallery, standing beside Lenoir, feeling the power of his mind in hers.

  And then later, in the crucible, she had spoken to Markes alone. He’d been vague and inconsiderate, and not the boy she’d thought him to be. How confused her emotions had been then. And still were.

  Those memories were as fresh as a bleeding wound.

  ‘She’ll be over at the pulpit,’ said Rollo. ‘She likes the view from there.’

  They threaded across the cruciform to the dais where the pulpit stood. Most of the Wings wore bandanas, either black or white, and were sprawled on the floor in groups, talking.

  A girl in tight pants, with hair spilling out from beneath her white bandana, sat on the pulpit alone. Naif recognised two of Kero’s guards close by.

  ‘Rollo,’ said the girl as they approached. ‘What’re you doing here? Thought you liked the roaches at Goa.’

  Rollo vaulted onto the dais, causing the guards to jump to their feet.

  ‘Whoa!’ said Kara. ‘Back off.’

  ‘Don’t be paranoid,’ snapped Rollo. ‘This is important.’

  She squinted at him, assessing his mood, then nodded to her guards to relax. They kept their distance but stayed on their feet.

  ‘Who’ve you brought with you?’ she asked, eyeing Naif.

  ‘Clash’s sister.’

  Naif saw Kara’s shoulders tense. ‘The one who attacked Brand?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Naif, stepping forward. ‘That’s me.’ She untied Kero’s bandana.

  Kara held out her hand and Naif passed it over.

  Just as Balta had, she fingered the lettering. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘He’s at sea, and he needs your help.’

  Kara beckoned her closer. ‘Explain.’

  Naif did, as quickly and clearly as she could. About the badges expiring, about the League and what the Ripers were doing with the young ones. And then the ship and Kero’s decision.

  Kara listened intently. ‘You’re asking us to follow you?’

  Naif hesitated, sensing the wrong answer would lose Kara’s support. They needed the Wings. ‘No. I’m asking you to follow Kero one last time. He’s risked everything. And he’s alone.’

  Kara stroked his bandana absently, her eyes unfocused.

  ‘You know I wanted to be with him but he chose Krista-belle. When she died I felt such grief for him.’ Her eyes lost their glaze and she looked at Naif. ‘That surprised me. Maybe it’s true that you’ll do anything for the people you care about. Forgive them, too.’

  Naif thought of her brother, Clash. Of Markes and Lenoir. ‘The League have stockpiled weapons in their camp. You should arm yourselves.’

  Kara nodded.

  ‘We’ve spoken to the Freeks as well,’ said Naif. ‘And many of the young ones along the way. We’ve told them to come to Los Fien by next Early-Eve.’

  The White Wings leader got to her feet. ‘Then you’d best hurry,’ she said. ‘And so had we.’

  Kara’s guards escorted them back to the station platform amid curious stares, with an understanding that she would speak with the young ones in Agios and then collect the League’s weapons and meet them at Los Fien.

  As they boarded the kar travelling upwards, Naif was overwhelmed by hunger and tiredness. It seemed like days since she’d slept for those few precious hours in Lenoir’s cave and taken sustenance from his sleeping sac. There was no food to be had here now, though. Not until this thing had been seen to its end.

  Just for a moment she thought about asking one of the young ones for a bead. But she stifled the urge, shuddering at the memory of the Rapture pod she had swallowed whole in Vank.

  ‘Do you think the uthers will come?’ she asked Rollo.

  He shrugged. ‘Would you trust Ufur?’

  Naif sighed and stared out the window at the delicate rainbow of Ixion lights sprinkling a kaleidoscope of colour across the mountainside. How had the uthers taken Uma’s death? What would the strange creatures do now?

  Rollo leaned forward, peering out of the same window.

  ‘Not long ’til Early-Eve,’ he said.

  Naif saw the tell-tale lightening that marked the passage of time on Ixion. A shift from black to grey that lasted an hour or so.

  In her mind, Naif repeated what she would say to those who came. How she would convince them to come along the dark paths to Danskoi. Guilt warred with pragmatism, sense with inevitability. A march on Danskoi was dangerous but doing nothing was more so. Besides, she told herself, the wheel was in motion now. Without the uthers, the young ones would starve. There was only one way forward.

  She rested her head against the cool metal trim of the window as the kar wended its way up past the last platforms. Each time a new crowd of young ones entered, Rollo took the centre of the carriage and spoke to them.

  Naif watched the frightened whisperings of some and the careless dismissals of others. The former stayed in their seats but others left, still intent on the clu
b they’d planned to go to, or called by the burning of petite nuit in their palm.

  All the while, Naif prayed that Ruzalia had received their message; that the pirate would do what they needed her to do.

  ‘Here it is,’ said Rollo.

  A slow screech signalled their braking at the Los Fien platform. The kar trembled on its wire as though as terrified as she was, before disgorging them all to the highest of the churches permitted to the young ones.

  They stepped out into the night to be greeted by a crowd already spilling from the church’s doors. Los Fien was an oak construction, modest by the standards of Agios and Vank. Plain as well.

  Rollo forced a path for them inside, where they stopped to look for a vantage point.

  ‘In the choir stand,’ said Naif, pointing to her right.

  He nodded and took her hand so they wouldn’t become separated. Already the cruciform radiated heat and noise at an uncomfortable level. By the time they reached the choir-stand both of them were drenched with sweat.

  ‘Don’t do it yet. More will come,’ said Rollo.

  Naif shook her head. ‘They must hear it now, or they’ll leave.’

  ‘But the Freeks and the Wings will take time to get here.’

  ‘They know where we’re going. They’ll come.’

  His expression showed he disagreed but when she held out her hand for him to hoist her, he helped her. Rollo’s boost pushed her over the oak facade that segregated the choir-stand from the cruciform. She then climbed to the top row.

  At first no one noticed her. She didn’t move or speak but simply stood there, watching the sea of lace and leather and satin and silk; all the textures and reflections of the beautiful clothes. The clothes they wore now would be the last Ixion gave them.

  ‘Hey,’ shouted a voice. ‘That’s her!’

  Another voice joined the first and the call spilled across the cruciform until all the faces were turned to her. She waited patiently, outwardly composed, until curiosity forced them to quieten so they could hear what she had to say.

  The well of emotion she’d long kept covered burst from inside her, lending her voice strength and conviction.

  ‘I’m Naif. Sister of Clash from the Cursed League. Some of you have heard of me.’

  A spray of catcalls rose and sank, shushed by others who wanted to hear more.

  ‘I’ve returned from Grave by way of the pirate Ruzalia. Between us we have learned truths about Ixion.’

  The quiet intensified so deeply that she was able to lower her voice. ‘Ixion exists because of a pact between the Ripers and the Grave Elders. When we are withdrawn we do not go to a better, more beautiful place. They take us to Danskoi and drain us of our life fluid and use most of it to help evolve Night Creatures to Riper.’

  ‘What’s a Night Creature?’ called out someone.

  ‘In the dark, on the paths, you have felt their presence. They are the eyes you feel upon you but can’t see; the breath on your neck. They are beasts and to them we are food, and that is all. What is left when the Ripers drain us, they give to the Grave Elders to keep them young. It has been that way since Ixion began. It is why Ixion became. But now you have a chance to save your own lives. The uthers who feed and sustain you here will do so no more. The Ripers have killed their queen. There will be no food, no clothes, nothing.’

  She paused to let that sink in. Most of them knew that the uthers had disappeared. A murmur spread across the floor and met the noise of an influx of more young ones through the doors.

  Naif counted ten breaths, giving them time to settle.

  ‘The Ripers will come for us soon, and so will the Night Creatures that lurk in the dark. Without the uthers both will be forced to harvest what they can from us.’

  She heard their gasps but plunged on. She could not lose their concentration now. ‘I have found a way to end this but you must help me. All of the Cursed League has been taken to Danskoi to be harvested, along with those who have already been withdrawn. We must go there together and surround the church. Stop them. Let them know we won’t stand for it. We have to buy time for our friends until my plan works.’

  ‘What’s your plan?’

  ‘I cannot say out loud for the Ripers must not know. But it’s in place now. We just need time. Trust me.’

  ‘I have no friends in the League,’ shouted a girl at the front. ‘Why should we care if they die?’

  ‘Me neither.’

  ‘Nor me!’

  ‘What about the ones being withdrawn? Soon that will be you. All of you. Even if you escape the Ripers and hide, your badges will expire and you will die. I’ve seen it on Sanctus, the pirate Ruzalia’s island. All the young ones she rescues still perish,’ said Naif.

  ‘How do we stop that?’

  ‘The uthers can reverse the badges. Come with me to Danskoi and they will help you. Abandon us and hide and they will not.’

  The final words were out. A threat, and a promise she was not sure she could keep. Please, Ufur. Please come!

  ‘And if we don’t?’

  ‘The Ripers will be hunting soon. They will find you. Your safety lies in numbers now. Stay close to each other. The Freeks and the White Wings are coming. They bring weapons.’

  Shrill calls began to spread across the room. The noise level soared and from it came a cacophony of shouts:

  ‘Danskoi!’

  ‘Danskoi!’

  ‘Danskoi!’

  Naif’s determination lifted on the wave of their energy and she pointed to the doors. ‘Light your torches! Bring something to defend yourselves with.’

  They began snatching up ornaments from Los Fien: heavy candlesticks, brass urns, whatever they could carry.

  ‘We go together!’ she cried.

  ‘Together!’ they shouted back.

  They marched the path to Danskoi, a long column three, sometimes four abreast, swinging their torches at the night, warding off what lurked out there.

  Naif and Rollo took the lead; side by side and grim. Naif held her torch high, moving it in a constant arc, eyes sharpened for the signs of glistening skin or a tentacle. She wished she had a flare like Eve had used. Something that would shed light to the distance so she could see how many of them watched.

  ‘I’m guessing it’s best we can’t see them,’ said Rollo quietly. He jerked his head over his shoulder. ‘They’d panic for sure.’

  Naif considered what he said. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps a flare would cause more damage than good.

  She looked ahead. The lights from Danskoi grew closer as the path grew steeper. Not long until they reached its surrounds – but an age of worry.

  She hastened her step, driving her legs forward as quickly as the terrain would allow. The night seemed close, windless now, and the stars were dimmed by thin cloud. The moon hadn’t risen.

  We’re coming, Clash. We’re coming, Suki.

  A scream from behind caused her to stop mid-stride. She turned, and looked back. The light trail ran back to Los Fien. But close to her and Rollo, a girl had become agitated.

  ‘What is it?’ Naif called.

  Another girl answered quickly, ‘A boy’s been taken. Vanished into the night in an eye-blink.’

  Naif grimaced. ‘Keep moving. Hold your torches high. There is nothing we can do for him.’

  ‘We need weapons,’ said Rollo, straining to see. ‘We’re too vulnerable.’

  ‘The Freeks and the Wings will come.’

  ‘We should have waited for them!’

  ‘No,’ said Naif. ‘We couldn’t.’ The crawling sensation on her skin told her the Night Creatures were amassing quickly now. She began climbing again, using one hand to steady her balance, one to hold the torch. She closed her mind to the girl crying for her lost friend.

  Lead them on. Lead them quickly. Do not hesitate.

  Rollo spoke constantly to her, voicing his doubts, arguing her decisions. But she ignored him. Her focus narrowed onto the lights of Danskoi, the spires that towered above
them like night sentinels. Not sanctuary, she thought, land’s end. The place they would stand and maybe fall.

  I’ve brought them here. I must not falter.

  She forced herself on until they reached the immense double doors. They sat firmly locked, repaired by the uthers after the Cursed League’s attack; those frantic moments when the League had fought the Night Creatures and Naif and Markes and Rollo had discovered what Danskoi was being used for.

  ‘Can you open them again?’ she asked Rollo.

  ‘We’ll break it down this time.’

  He signalled to a group of boys carrying a heavy brass candlestick between them. They came forward quickly and assembled in front of the door.

  ‘Now!’ said Rollo.

  They ran at the lock, using the brass as a battering ram. It broke apart on the first hit.

  Naif asked two boys crowding in behind them to hoist her onto their shoulders.

  ‘Spread along the wall. Lean your backs to the brick. Set your torch at your feet. Make a perimeter of light. Pass the word.’ She repeated the message over and over as the crowd spilled past her and took their positions around the base of the church walls.

  And as they began to spread out, she followed them, answering questions where she could, lending courage. A full circuit of Danskoi took time. And each time she turned, more young ones joined them, until they sat in rows four deep.

  When she returned to the door, Rollo stood there waiting for her.

  ‘We couldn’t breach the cruciform last time because of the weapon of light.’

  Naif picked up the iron ring that had been broken in half by the candlestick and handed it to him. ‘One good throw.’

  He got her meaning and nodded.

  She pointed to the boys who had lifted her on their shoulders. ‘Go up to the gallery with Rollo and you will see the truth of my story. Come back and tell the young ones what you see in there. All of them. They need to hear it. They need to use the knowledge to give them courage.’

  As I have used it, she thought.

  The horror of what she’d seen in Danskoi had given her the strength to return to Grave. The strength for everything she’d done since.