Angel Arias Read online

  So they waited, crouched next to the grate, flinching at every sound.

  This time Jarrold appeared unexpectedly from the back of the chamber, crawling into their sight, his face shiny with sweat. His jaw showed signs of swelling and his coat sleeve was torn to his elbow.

  ‘What happened, fero?’

  ‘I ran into the fence.’ He held up his arm and pulled the torn coat sleeve back. His arm was wrapped and blood smeared up his arm. ‘Hound took a chunk.’

  ‘Jarrold, are you . . .?’

  ‘It’s just a bite.’ He shook off Naif and Markes’s concern as if it was nothing but she could tell that he was in pain. ‘Hurry.’

  Markes went down into the drain first.

  ‘Jarrold,’ he called up.

  The boy slid into the tunnel quickly. Naif followed more carefully, dragging the cover across as well as she could.

  ‘Which way?’ said Jarrold when they were all huddled together.

  The drain ran east to west and the sea was to the west. Naif closed her eyes and recalled which direction she’d been facing when she climbed down. When she opened them, she could see the grainy outline of the wall.

  ‘This way,’ she said. ‘Markes, put your hand on my shoulder and Jarrold, you do the same to Markes. With no light we don’t want to be separated.’

  The walking was more treacherous than before; no light and a nagging sense of doubt kept Naif treading painfully slowly.

  Jarrold prattled on behind her but she didn’t really hear him. All her concentration went into staying on the ledge and avoiding slipping into the seawater running alongside her.

  The tunnel gradually heightened so that they could walk more upright. When they reached a spot where the tunnel forked, she became aware of Markes tugging her arm.

  ‘Naif, I have to rest.’

  She became aware of how heavily he was breathing. He was still weak after the torture inflicted by the wardens.

  ‘Yes. We should,’ she agreed.

  They squatted down and listened to the water washing past. It would get higher and stronger as the tide came in.

  ‘Which way now?’ asked Jarrold.

  Naif gazed at the two tunnels ahead. There was nothing to suggest they were getting close to Glev and the others and she couldn’t recall passing the fork before with Liam. A moment of dread gripped her. Had she led them the wrong way?

  ‘Jarrold . . . how’s your wrist?’ she asked to divert her agitation.

  ‘It throbs,’ he said in a tight voice. ‘I’ll live.’

  His admission caused Naif more alarm. ‘Is it bleeding still?’

  ‘Not much. It just hurts. The frossing hounds have such giant, filthy teeth.’

  ‘Tell us what happened, fero?’ asked Markes in a voice hoarse with exhaustion.

  ‘I crashed into the Seal fence. A hound bit my arm as I fell from the sled. The wardens would’ve caught me but the hounds broke free from their harnesses and went crazy, running off to a nearby house. Something on the doorstep there was better than me; raw meat or blood. I c-couldn’t see properly but the smell was reeking awful. I got up and ran faster than the wardens. Took a long way back to lose them.’

  ‘Brave boy,’ said Markes.

  Naif heard the pride in his voice.

  ‘Who distracted the hounds?’ she asked.

  ‘That be me,’ announced a voice in the dark behind them.

  ‘Fross!’ shouted Jarrold. He knocked into Markes who knocked against Naif and nearly sent them all into the water.

  ‘Liam?’ said Naif as she clung to the ledge.

  ‘’Tis.’

  ‘How long have you been . . .?’ She trailed off, trying to work out how Liam could have found them.

  ‘Been with you all the way.’

  ‘Since?’

  ‘Since you thought I’d left youse.’ He sounded more than a little smug.

  ‘Since we left the Rasparts’ chamber and went to Grave North?’

  ‘Not possible,’ said Markes.

  ‘It is. I saw him at the Grave North wall. He scared the horses so we could get through,’ said Naif.

  ‘That was you?’ asked Markes.

  Liam gave a cheeky whistle. ‘Best follow. Youse find trouble for sure. Hide under dead cart near wheels. Done before.’

  Jarrold made a throat-clearing noise and Naif jumped.

  ‘Oh, Jarrold, this is Liam, who helped us when we arrived,’ said Naif. ‘Liam, we were coming to find you.’

  ‘You want lost prayer house?’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Me listen. You talk way loud.’

  ‘We need to hear what’s being said at the meeting there.’

  ‘Glev not help. Busy with –’

  He stopped short and Naif would have given anything to see his face clearly. What didn’t he want to tell them?

  ‘Will you help us?’ she asked.

  ‘If only . . .’

  She waited, sensing Liam’s frustration as he tried to form the words he wanted to say.

  ‘. . . if’n you take me on airship when youse go. Want see Soueta.’

  ‘Say yes,’ Markes whispered in her ear.

  ‘Of course you can come. Now which way do we go, Liam?’ Naif forced her legs underneath her and stood.

  ‘Which youse think?’ he asked. ‘Which youse take if Liam not here?’

  ‘The one on my left.’

  ‘That one go deep channel. You go there, high tide drag you out. Drown you.’

  Naif felt sick. What if Liam hadn’t caught up with them when he did? She would have led them all to . . .

  ‘Naif?’

  Markes was standing up next to her now. ‘I would have picked the wrong one too,’ he said softly. ‘Let’s move on.’

  She nodded to herself in the dark. Yes. They had to go. The time for the meeting must be getting close.

  Liam stopped a little while after they’d taken the right junction and told them all to rest again. He climbed over them to get to the lead and Naif heard him slapping his tentacled hand against the wall as though searching for something.

  Maybe she should warn Jarrold about Liam’s appearance in case he reacted badly when they went above ground.

  ‘This ’un be good,’ said Liam.

  A sliver of light appeared in the darkness, enough for Retra to see Liam’s outline, and him pushing against the drain ceiling.

  ‘Not use. Hard.’ He grunted a few times. With each sound of effort, the sliver of light increased until Naif could see grey sky above her. She glanced back at Markes and Jarrold. Like her they were covered in wet grime, their hair plastered to their heads. Both were looking upwards.

  She caught a fleeting memory of the beautiful clothes she’d worn on Ixion – the magnificent brocade dress Lenoir had arranged for her to wear to her party. Would she ever have anything as audacious and beautiful again?

  Jarrold gasped, snapping her from her thoughts. More light had also brought a clear view of Liam’s deformed arm.

  Markes uttered a curt silencing noise to him.

  ‘Up now,’ said Liam, unaware of Jarrold’s reaction. He went first, nimble and quick, aided by the suckers on his arm. Once he was through the grate, he reached his tentacle down for Naif to grasp.

  She took hold without hesitation. The suckers adhered gently to her skin, making her feel quite secure as he lifted her out of the tunnel.

  Markes came next but Jarrold baulked.

  ‘Fero,’ he called up. ‘You help me.’

  Naif glanced at Markes. He knelt near the grate, swaying as though he might faint. He needed food and sleep.

  She leaned down into the tunnel. ‘He can’t. Liam will help you.’

  ‘I want . . .’

  ‘Liam will help you or you will stay there,’ she said firmly. They had no time for this.

  She backed away and nodded at Liam.

  ‘Him problem?’

  Naif shook her head. ‘No problem.’

  He frowned but to
ok her place near the grate and unfurled his tentacle for Jarrold to grasp.

  His face showed the strain of helping the thickset boy through the opening and he dropped him quickly so that Jarrold fell onto the rough metal.

  He made a complaining noise but Naif didn’t give him any attention. She was looking around her, trying to orientate herself.

  The sun was behind clouds, but she saw that it was low in the sky. They had come up in a tiny, dark gap between two old buildings; an alley so narrow two people could barely stand side by side. She smelled the sea.

  The building she was facing presented a sheer wooden wall with no windows or doors. On the roof she could just see the peak with a wooden cross on it.

  Swivelling, she saw that the building behind her was less imposing and in a state of real decay.

  Liam came to stand close and pointed with his normal hand. ‘We go there. Then there.’

  The arc of his fingers drew a line from the roof of the dilapidated building across to the roof of the church.

  ‘How?’ she asked.

  Liam curled his lips into a smile. ‘You go up there. Wait.’

  ‘Wait by that window?’ She pointed so her fingers lined up with his.

  He nodded and ran off, disappearing around the corner.

  ‘Naif? What did he say?’ asked Jarrold.

  ‘I’ll explain when we get inside,’ she said and led them both in through one of the broken doorways. Inside was as dilapidated as the outside: walls crumbling, joists split or sagging. The building looked fit to collapse at any moment. Not far from the door were the remains of a steep staircase leading to the upper floor. Some of the steps were broken, others were missing.

  ‘Do you think it’s safe?’ asked Markes.

  ‘Liam said to go up there. He must have done it before.’

  Jarrold looked at the staircase and crossed his arms. ‘I’m not going anywhere until you tell me who he is and why his arm is so frossing weird.’

  ‘I told you before that the Ripers are using us to transform the Night Creatures; that we saw human and Night Creature joined.’

  ‘But how do you mean joined? I don’t get it.’

  ‘Flesh to flesh. Part of each other. A Night Creature growing from one of us.’

  He stared at Naif in disbelief and then looked at Markes.

  ‘It’s true, fero. I saw it too.’

  ‘Then Liam is . . .?’

  Naif bit her lip and considered her words before she spoke. ‘I think that sometimes the transformation doesn’t work properly and they only half-change.’

  ‘Then where is the Night Creature part?’

  ‘It must have died. Maybe they cut it away. Whatever happened, those . . . mistakes, like Liam, have been sent here to the Old Harbour. To spy on Grave for the Ripers.’

  The shock on Jarrold’s face began to wear off and she could see him thinking. ‘And they all have . . .’

  ‘Deformities of some kind. Some more than others. Yes.’

  ‘So you think that everyone that goes to Ixion is eventually turned into a Night Creature? Did you warn the ones that didn’t know that?’

  ‘Joel, my brother, promised that he would try. But not everyone wants to hear the truth. Ixion is a complicated place.’

  ‘And dangerous. Even more now,’ added Markes. ‘The Ripers are divided in their leadership and the Night Creatures are restless. When we escaped, the fighting had just started. We don’t know what’s happened since.’

  ‘So there are a whole lot of people like you and me who don’t know what to believe?’ said Jarrold.

  ‘Yes,’ said Naif. ‘The dark hides a lot.’

  ‘But what does all that have to do with Grave?’

  Naif and Markes stared at him.

  He flushed with embarrassment at his foolish question. ‘Errr . . . so that would be why you are here. Umm . . . we better get up these stairs so we can find out.’

  They went in single file, Jarrold taking the lead this time, testing each step to see if it would carry his weight.

  At the top, they found a short corridor with two doorways on either side. In each one, the door had been torn off and lay broken and rotting on the floor. They went into the one that corresponded with the window Liam had pointed to.

  As soon as they stepped inside, Naif saw that it lined up with the belltower on the top of the church.

  ‘Fross, I bet he wants us to climb across to the belltower!’ said Jarrold.

  Naif went closer to the window. It had no frame or louvres, and she felt a little dizzy at being so near the edge. She tried not to look at the drop to the cobblestones below.

  ‘Keep back. In case the floor is rotten,’ said Markes, as Jarrold joined her.

  Naif stepped back, but Jarrold was not one to be warned off anything, and continued to stand right on the edge.

  ‘Fero!’ said Markes. ‘Listen to me. Someone might see you.’

  Jarrold pulled a face and reluctantly retreated. ‘How long will Liam be?’

  Naif shrugged. She wanted to lie down and rest and not have to think at all. But worse than that was the grabbing pain that had started up below her breastbone and the sudden fogginess in her head that signalled Lenoir’s presence in her mind.

  Lenoir?

  Are you safe, little bat?

  Yes.

  There is something I would have you know before . . . Naif, I . . . have a feeling . . .

  Lenoir?

  But his voice had faded as quickly as it had come and the weight of his presence dwindled to almost nothing.

  ‘Naif?’

  Markes’s voice shook her into seeing that Liam was standing in front of them, panting and hugging a large, broad plank much taller than him.

  ‘We go on wood,’ said Liam.

  ‘You want us to walk on that?’ asked Markes.

  ‘Not walk. Crawl.’ Liam went straight to the window. He braced his foot against the corner of the wall and swung the plank across the gap. It clanked into place too loudly for Naif’s nerves and they all jumped.

  Liam bared his teeth at the noise and set about pulling some rope from his overalls and tying his end of the plank to an exposed beam in the floor.

  ‘I’ll go first,’ said Jarrold eagerly.

  Liam looked dubious but stepped away. ‘Quiet go.’

  Without even a glance back, Jarrold climbed onto the plank and crawled across the gap, sliding over the ledge on the other side and into the belltower.

  He made it look so easy that Naif’s fear subsided a little.

  Markes tapped her on the shoulder and drew her across the room away from Liam. ‘Ruzalia will be back for us tonight.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I’m going to find Emilia now. I’ll meet you on the beach.’

  ‘But you can’t. It’ll take you too long to go all that way. You’ll miss the rendezvous.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about it. She’ll be at the Precari prayer hall. They always go there for afternoon homage; her, her mother and father, and Jarrold.’

  ‘But now Jarrold has left they might not.’

  ‘They’ll go to save face. I know they will. I’ll go back to the Rasparts’. The hall is not far from there.’

  Naif tried to map it in her mind. ‘Why did you come here first?’

  ‘I wanted to make sure that you got to Oracion. That’s why we’re here. I didn’t want you doing it alone.’

  ‘Jarrold is with me.’

  ‘Jarrold can be reckless. I’ll only be a few hours. I’ll be back before the moon rises.’

  ‘What if Emilia won’t come?’

  ‘I believe she will.’

  Naif wanted to ask him more questions. Why had he kissed her when they were at the Deadtaker’s? Would Emilia’s presence change their . . . friendship? But it was untimely for such things.

  Instead, she leaned forward and hugged him in a way she never had before. It told him to be safe, and to come back, and that she . . . cared.

  As she st
epped away, her heart beat furiously.

  An expression of pleasure flashed across Markes’s face. ‘I’ll be on the beach with her before midnight,’ he said. ‘Wait for me.’

  Naif nodded, and watched him limp from the room.

  ‘Naif?’ Liam was watching them impatiently. ‘Markes come?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Not safe outside. Hounds wander,’ added Liam with concern. ‘See them when find wood.’

  ‘You mean the hounds are loose in the Old Harbour?’

  Naif ran to the door and down the stairs to find Markes and tell him.

  But he’d gone.

  ‘Come. Come,’ Liam called down to her.

  She rejoined him and they went to the window. He knelt down and put extra pressure on the plank to hold it still. ‘Look across. Not down.’

  Jarrold was leaning his weight on the other end.

  She crawled out, hardly daring to breathe. It wasn’t far, maybe three times Markes’s height, but the drop was enough to make her stomach churn.

  Halfway along, a gust of wind blew across her and she froze, clinging to the wood.

  ‘Naif,’ whispered Jarrold. ‘Keep moving.’

  She forced herself to start crawling again, trying not to think of the hard stones below and the plank held in place by the thin, worn rope. When she reached the ledge, Jarrold hauled her over.

  As she crouched down inside the belltower, panting and shaking, they waited for Liam.

  He joined them soon, jumping lightly into the space next to her. ‘We go down. Hear good from there.’

  ‘Where’s Markes?’ whispered Jarrold in Naif’s ear.

  She shook her head.

  Liam pointed to the outline of a hatch in the floor of the belltower. He leaned over and tugged on some twine attached to a loop in the floor. The hatch lifted.

  Naif peered down at the steepest stairway she’d ever seen. It stopped just short of a maze of crisscrossed ceiling struts. Further down from that, another set of stairs ran along the wall and must have once been joined to the belltower stairs. Now the only connection between them was a buckled railing. Far below, through the gaps in the struts, she glimpsed a large room occupied by several Elders.

  Her heart pounded. If they made a noise as they climbed down . . . or they slipped . . . or someone below glanced upward . . .