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  He bent his head low over her hand and she felt the wetness of tears on her skin. ‘The boy you call Rollo rests in Illi now. Take him with you to find the uther queen. If I am not waiting for you when you return, find Test in Danskoi. She will help you.’

  ‘Lenoir, please . . . what is it?’ Naif slid her free hand to his face and cupped his chin, tilting it upwards so she could see him properly.

  As she did, dread gripped every part of her. She barely recognised him. His perfect cheekbones had been supplanted by brutish bone structure, his brow suddenly heavy and his lips hidden behind jutting teeth. His eyes had sunk back into his skull and the smooth texture of his skin had shrunk away leaving only twisted dark striations like bleeding cords masking his face.

  A growl began, deep in his chest; a deep-earth tremor, growing, building to its peak. When it subsided he spoke in a strange voice. ‘Fasten the door behind me. Wait until it is quiet then go into Illi and seek out your friend.’ He took her hand and placed it on a small protrusion at the side of her seat. ‘When you return, press this panel and the carriage will take you both to the uthers’ dam, and bring you back here when you need it.’

  Then, without warning, he sprang out of the carriage, slamming the door behind him.

  Naif heard a hissing sound like steam escaping from a meat boiler. She pressed frantically at the trim around the carriage window, trying to find a way to make it turn translucent, but it stayed opaque. The door handle was jammed.

  Outside, the noises escalated. The hissing changed to snarls, and then an incoherent language shouted between cracking noises that made bile to rush to her mouth. Bones. Someone . . . something . . . was breaking bones while she sat just a few breaths away.

  Lenoir? Lenoir? What’s happening?

  Naif grabbed the seat as the carriage rocked from an impact and then settled. Were they trying to get to her? But the door stayed intact, the handle unmoving.

  She felt Lenoir’s anger swell to something so immense and dark that it threatened to possess her thoughts.

  Then as quickly as it had taken her, it left, and outside the noise abated until the only sound she could hear again was the dull thrum of music from Illi.

  Naif ran shaky fingers through her hair. Her scalp and palms were damp. She tried the handle again. This time it opened easily.

  Taking a deep breath, she pushed, terrified by what she might find.

  Lenoir . . .

  But he was not there. No one was there.

  Carefully, quietly, she slid her feet to the ground. The lights from Illi showed uprooted bushes and gouge marks in the earth. Dark stains as well.

  She knelt and touched one. A dark substance stuck to her fingers. She smelled it. Riper blood – almost black and emanating a sour scent.

  She couldn’t control the terror shooting through her. What if Lenoir was dead?

  No. Surely she would feel it. Surely.

  She tested their bond. Faint but there. Or did she trick herself?

  Go into Illi and find your friend, Lenoir had said.

  How did he know Rollo would be there – and would he help her even if he was? Suki said he’d been lost to them since Danskoi.

  Naif stood and rubbed the blood from her fingers onto her pants. Whatever happened she needed to keep moving. The Cursed League and the others here and on Sanctus had little enough time. Her stomach knotted at the thought of Clash, Suki, Markes and Charlonge – all of them – in Danskoi. How terrified they must be. Or had Brand suspended their consciousness? What would she find when she got to them?

  Lenoir said they had time. She had to believe him. She had to . . .

  No one recognised her as she entered Illi. The grand marble church was not decorated for a ball as it had been the last time she’d seen it. Though the wall hangings and the gleaming furnishings were the same, Markes did not play from the pulpit for an entranced audience, and Lenoir did not watch her from the gallery above. There were no tables laden with honey bread and mulled grape.

  Instead, young ones drifted from table to chair, laughing, talking and eating. Though it had only been a few weeks since she’d left Ixion, Naif was momentarily captivated by their exotic appearance. Many of the girls wore hats adorned with long, delicate feathers, reams of lace or clusters of sequins. The boys’ attire ranged from black silk pantaloons to leather to satin. Silver chains and buckles and studs hung from their wrists and decorated their shirts and belts and boots.

  They seemed untouched by the disunion between the Ripers, yet they must have sensed it; must have seen some changes. Lenoir’s presence had been so pervasive before. Now it would be Brand’s stamp on their thoughts and deeds.

  Feeling conspicuous in her stained pirate’s hand-me-downs, Naif hastened to the stairs. Lenoir had said Rollo slept here, which meant he’d be in one of the rooms above that were kept ready for petite nuit.

  She searched in every room along the long corridor, her heart hammering with fear that she might be discovered by a Riper. Finally, she found him in the last room. He wasn’t alone. Bodies lay in the other five beds, not asleep but in a dreaming state akin to it. Naif remembered the strangeness of petite nuit and the confusing transition to wakefulness. Since having her badge revoked she had been able to sleep again, though she never seemed to get enough of it.

  She crept to Rollo’s side and leaned over him. His eyes were wide open, unseeing, and he smelled of stale sweat combined with the faint sweet perfume of beads. It distressed her to think that Rollo had put aside his reason for coming here and fallen back to partying. He’d been the one who’d seen the Riper in Grave. He’d been the one who’d convinced her there was a connection.

  She touched his arm. His skin was pale and clammy and he appeared thinner. Even his red hair had lost colour and sheen. The beads did that to you, Charlonge had told her once. But Naif had only ever taken them a couple of times.

  ‘Rollo,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘It’s Naif.’

  He twitched and scratched his stomach but kept staring ahead.

  She tried again, remembering that it took some time to leave petite nuit behind.

  ‘Rollo, I need your help. It’s Naif. I’m back.’

  This time he sat bolt upright, blinking and swallowing. ‘No!’ he cried and began to flail his arms.

  She jumped back to avoid being hit.

  ‘Shhhh! Rollo! Be quiet!’ She glanced nervously at the door. If a supervisor came, or a Riper . . .

  Rollo coughed and rubbed his face. He wore a bewildered expression. ‘Fross! You’re here. Not a dream.’

  She couldn’t help but smile. Perhaps he hadn’t changed.

  ‘What is it, Naif ? Suki? Is she . . .’

  ‘She needs our help. I’ll wait for you behind the church. Come as soon as you can and we’ll talk.’

  He nodded and then reached out and grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard.

  ‘Ow! Stop it!’ she cried softly.

  ‘You are real.’

  She shook her wrist free and pinched him on the cheek. ‘As real as this.’

  His eyes grew wider and he shook his head as if trying to clear it. ‘What . . . why . . .’

  ‘Come outside. I will tell you.’

  ‘Rollo?’ said a voice from the closest bed.

  Naif turned and glanced across. The boy seemed familiar and yet not.

  ‘Naif ?’ His voice was hoarse, as if he couldn’t clear his throat, his hair was unkempt and his face bleary. ‘Is it you?’

  She stared harder, willing recognition. It came with a jolt of dismay.

  ‘Kero?’

  He’d been so strong-looking and gruff but this boy was wasted, the tattoos on his arms wrinkled from loose skin. Naif couldn’t hide her shock as he passed out of consciousness again, his head lolling to one side.

  ‘He took it pretty hard about Krista-belle,’ said Rollo.

  ‘Get him up. Tell him he has a chance to . . .’ She trailed off, not sure what Kero might gain by coming with them.

&n
bsp; ‘To what? You can’t bring her back, Naif. That’s all that will save him.’

  ‘We can stop it happening to other people he cares about: the White Wings.’

  ‘He doesn’t run the Wings anymore. We both left the gangs. Seemed kinda . . . pointless . . . when you went.’

  Naif glanced to the door, feeling exposed. ‘Make Kero come and listen to what I have to say. Let him decide. I should go before someone notices me.’

  A ghost of Rollo’s old grin returned. ‘Yeah, you should. I mean, what is that you’re wearing?’

  Naif pulled a sour face. ‘Thought you fancied the life of a pirate?’

  ‘Who are you?’ asked a girl behind them, propped up on one elbow. The others in the room were also rousing from petite nuit.

  ‘Go,’ said Rollo.

  Naif cast another quick glance at Kero. ‘Hurry.’

  She left them then, and stole down the stairs and out of Illi. The church cast distorted shadows on the path in front of her and strange sounds reached out from the night. She didn’t breathe normally until she found Lenoir’s carriage and crouched behind it.

  Would they come? Had anyone in Illi seen her? Recognised her? Someone who would tell the Ripers?

  She considered getting back in the carriage but worried it might lock again before the others came.

  Instead, she made herself as small as possible, curling up against it to wait.

  They came, eventually, making too much noise and scuffing the ground with their boots.

  ‘What the fross is this thing?’ said Kero loudly. His voice sounded thick and raspy from bead use.

  Naif eased out of her hiding place. As she stepped around the corner of the carriage she found them trying to peer in the window.

  ‘It’s shuttered,’ she said. ‘You can’t see inside.’

  They both jumped.

  ‘Naif!’ said Kero. ‘It really is you. You scared the fross out of me.’

  ‘Come around here,’ she said. ‘Out of sight.’

  She beckoned them behind the carriage so they could no longer be seen from Illi.

  The boys crowded close to her and Kero took her hand. His fingers trembled. ‘Thought I’d never see you again.’

  When he let go, Rollo stepped forward, put his arms around her and lifted her from her feet in a long, fierce hug.

  ‘Put me down, Rollo!’ she whispered.

  He squeezed her tighter for a moment and then dropped her on her feet.

  ‘Why have you come back?’ asked Kero.

  She told them, in a quick and spare manner, the story of her trip to Grave and all that she’d learned, finishing with the news that Brand had captured all the Cursed League and taken them to Danskoi.

  ‘We have to go there. Set them free,’ said Rollo, punching fist to palm the way Suki had done so recently. ‘Suki and Eve need us.’

  ‘We must free them,’ echoed Naif. ‘But first we need something with which to bargain.’

  ‘There’s no time for that. They’ll be consumed by the Night Creatures,’ said Rollo.

  ‘Lenoir says there’s time. They’ll be kept asleep for a while before the process starts.’

  ‘Lenoir said? How can you trust a Riper?’ He spat on the ground to show his disgust.

  She shrugged. ‘Even if I didn’t, it is the only way to help them. Now is where we waste time; standing here talking.’

  Rollo walked a few paces away and back. ‘You believe you can bargain with the Ripers. How?’

  ‘I’ve learned that they hold the uther queen prisoner. It’s how they force the uthers to work for them. They can’t function without them. The uthers maintain Ixion. The uthers feed the Ripers.’

  ‘You think by finding their queen you can turn them against the Ripers,’ said Kero. His voice became sharper with interest. Had hope pierced his mind’s fog?

  ‘Yes,’ said Naif.

  Kero squatted down without warning, as if he thought his unsteady legs might collapse.

  Naif knelt next to him. ‘Kero?’

  ‘She would want me to help you. Wouldn’t she?’ he said softly. ‘She wanted me to take you into the Wings right from the start.’

  Naif pictured Krista-belle’s sweet face. ‘Yes. She would. And she did. You must miss her badly.’

  He stared at her. Naif felt the anger emanating from him. And the pain.

  ‘I couldn’t stay with the Wings after she . . . after. They didn’t mean anything without her,’ he said.

  Naif nodded. ‘Will you help me find the uther queen? I believe they have hidden her on an . . . atoll, close to the foot of the island. I’ll need your help to get there.’

  It took him so long to answer that she thought he might not.

  ‘Kero?’ she whispered. ‘Please.’

  Finally he nodded. ‘For Kris. I will.’

  ‘Thank you. I would insist on one thing, though.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Empty your pockets of beads and pods.’

  Rollo, who had stood a few steps away, re-joined their crouched huddle. ‘Why should we?’

  ‘It’ll be dangerous. You’ll need clarity.’

  To Naif’s surprise, Kero emptied out his pockets immediately, crushing the black beads beneath the heel of his boot.

  Rollo, however, crossed his arms. ‘How do we know your information is sound?’

  Naif bit her lip to keep her anger at bay. She tried to think of what Suki would say to him. But she was not Suki and in the end she spoke straight from her heart.

  ‘My friends . . . your friends . . . need our help. And even if we don’t succeed . . . you’ll all meet the same fate soon enough when your badges expire. I would rather meet that fate on my feet, trying to do something. Not lying in a bed dreaming false dreams.’ She stood up. ‘Rollo?’

  ‘Fross it, man! She’s right!’ said Kero. He nudged his friend. ‘Come on.’

  Rollo shrugged, still not convinced.

  ‘I spoke to your father in Grave,’ said Naif. ‘He believed you’d gone somewhere else. Now he knows you’re here.’

  ‘You told him that?’

  ‘I snatched a brief moment with him after the Elders’ meeting with Brand. He’s not like the others. He spoke with reason at the meeting and stood up for himself. That’s how I knew who he was. You are like him . . . at least . . . you were.’ Naif let weight hang on her last word.

  ‘I’m not him. I make my own way and my own rules,’ Rollo said stubbornly.

  ‘Then choose.’ Naif stood, watching him intently. ‘Stand or hide.’

  He took a deep breath and expelled the air from his lungs. Then he emptied his pockets.

  Kero held out his hand and they pulled each other up. Then they both faced Naif, side by side like brothers, shoulders touching.

  ‘Come on, then,’ said Rollo. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘We’ll need light down at the bottom of the island,’ said Kero. ‘Best go back and get some torches.’

  Naif felt a rush of relief. They were truly with her. ‘Hurry.’

  The two boys clung to their seats, unspeaking, as the carriage ran down towards the south end of Ixion.

  Naif tried to reassure them it was safe but neither relaxed their wary expressions until it finally stopped. Even then Kero looked as though he might be sick.

  ‘Where are we?’ asked Rollo.

  ‘Lenoir said we should go to the uthers’ dam. He set the carriage to take us there. He believes we should take one of the uthers with us to help locate the queen.’

  ‘Dam? What do you mean dam?’

  Naif shrugged and reached to open the door. ‘Now you know as much as me. This is where they live – have always lived, it seems.’

  Rollo grabbed her hand. ‘Wait. How do we get from the dam to the atoll you told us about?’

  ‘I’m hoping the uthers will know a way.’

  ‘And if they don’t?’

  Naif pushed his hand away and tried to sound confident. ‘They will.’

  She stepped o
ut of the carriage onto a slippery surface, holding her torch aloft. The pool of light revealed that they’d stopped on a muddy ridge, which looked onto a waste of dead brush and small rocks.

  Behind them was a narrow causeway, which the carriage must have crossed. On either side of the causeway, large, wet, dark boulders shouldered the road. She smelt the sea close by and thought she could hear the waves.

  ‘That sound is the surf,’ said Kero from behind her. ‘We must be very close to the lower end of the island.’

  Rollo joined them, his mouth ajar, waving his torch. ‘For Grave’s sake. It is a dam. Like the ones the malarms build.’

  Both Kero and Naif stared at him.

  ‘Malarms. They’re the scourge of the shipways. My father used to talk about them all the time. Merchant ships, even pirates, have sunk by running aground a malarm dam. Especially when they sail between islands. Malarms build their homes on inlets and where reefs are close to the surface of the sea.’

  ‘Do malarms look like uthers?’ asked Naif.

  Rollo cocked his head to the side. ‘I’ve only heard him describe them. They sounded wet and slimy. Maybe they’re related.’

  ‘So where do we go now?’ asked Kero.

  ‘Those dark shadows over there could be the openings of their tunnels. We could try going down one. But they probably build false trails.’

  Naif squinted ahead. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘But if they’re like the malarms it’s likely.’

  ‘How do we even talk to them if we find them?’ said Kero. ‘I’ve never heard an uther speak. Most of the time you can barely see them in the room. It’s like they’re only visible if they want to be.’

  Naif knew exactly what Kero meant. She scratched the back of her hand absentmindedly, wondering how many times an uther had been close to her on Ixion and she hadn’t even known.