"It hurt all the time." The words came slowly, each an obvious effort. "Almost like shield-paralysis combined with the pins and needles afterwards. Not so sharp, but never ending. This – this constant, swooping distress of trying to move, to speak, and nothing. And suffocated by its presence. Sat on. That without even considering what your it is like, and what it’s doing with you."
Regretting asking, Madeleine slid closer, and Noi leaned against her, shaking. But then, in an exhibition of sheer determination, the shorter girl’s breathing eased, and she straightened, taking Madeleine’s hand instead.
"Fifty," Emily said, and all around them came the faintest rustle of anticipation. Soon. Fighting, killing.
"Do you think Pan was wrong?" Madeleine asked. "To offer amnesty?"
"No. I hate the idea, but the alternative is…"
Genocide. A hard word to link to your own goals.
"Pan says his Moth was mostly frightened," Noi went on. "Not someone who’d put anyone before himself, just a scared squit trying to keep his head down. I’d still kill every single one of them to free the Blues they’re riding, but…well…there’s a bit more nuance to my attitude thanks to Fisher’s little speech."
Fisher’s recording had left Madeleine struggling to hide tears, grateful but perhaps even less able to deal with the tangle between them. At least he seemed to share her immediate need for avoidance, staying at a careful distance.
"He is distinctly different, isn’t he?" Noi added, tone low, edged with sympathy. "I asked Nash and Pan how they could not notice he was possessed. They thought he’d gone suddenly polite wanting to impress you."
Not knowing how to respond, Madeleine simply hunched her shoulders, and after a pause Noi said quietly: "I owe you an apology."
"What for?"
"I did kind of encourage you into bed with him."
"Oh." It was like a jab to a wound, sudden and shocking for all they’d been talking around the subject. "No, don’t be sorry. I’m not, not for that." She recognised a truth spoken, even though her throat immediately locked with unshed tears. "I was so happy," she said, struggling to get the words out. "It fell into a flaming heap, and I want to crawl under a rock, but I can’t regret it. I’d never been happier in my life."
Noi’s hand tightened on hers, then relaxed, and they sat connected by loosely linked fingers, waiting out the slow degrees of dawn. The Cathedral roof became a black silhouette against a pale sky, and, faintly, Nash murmured a Hindu prayer.
"Eighty."
"Right." Noi stood, and signalled again with her torch. "Keep counting, Millie, and let us know when you hit a hundred, but from this point on we’re assuming it could be any moment."
Noi wasn’t quite able to keep a hint of breathlessness from her voice, an awareness of how critical the moment was, and the consequences of failure. Madeleine stood as well, and tried to look at the Spire. South-west, its base was little more than an impression of depth, though its upper reaches stood out spear-sharp. Even on its own it was a difficult thing to encompass, and she struggled to frame the whole truth of it – not a ship, not a building, but a kind of spike or tentacle of a creature so vast it must look like a mountain range, clawing an alien sky.
Feeling cold and wobbly, she searched through the increasingly visible shapes around her until she found Tyler, incongruously seated on a park bench which had survived and remained upright. It rocked a little as she sat beside him, but it was a good place to collect herself. Lost in his own thoughts Tyler didn’t speak, but gave her a small smile, and Madeleine recognised that even after years of having little to do with her cousin they retained the simple acceptance of family. Noi, along with so many millions of people, had lost that completely.
"Hey, Maddie, what’s the name of that statue?" Pan, poking his head over her shoulder, pointed at the bronze figure Noi was leaning against. The gloom had lifted enough to reveal a woman armed with a bow, kneeling beside the mashed remains of a stag.
"It’s the Roman goddess, Diana."
That imp’s grin lit up the morning. "Thought so." He bounced across to Noi. "You know, Wonder Woman’s real name is Diana. I’d call that a sign."
Noi almost visibly dragged her thoughts out from under the shadow of the Spire. "If that means spandex in our near future, I want a different sign."
Pan took Noi’s hand and swung it gently. "You don’t need a costume to be super."
"One hundred."
Noi flashed the torch again, and everyone held their breath. Madeleine found herself looking away from the Spire, at her feet, at Tyler, at the faces of the Musketeers. Fisher.
"Now!"
The shout was scattered, a dozen different voices. Madeleine stood and immediately spotted the ribbon of light, a dandelion dragon come home with the dawn, but it was impossible see whether Haron’s squad had succeeded. Whether they’d taken those few moments when the shield was down to press forward, thrust their hands against the Spire and blast it, a united punch intended to stun a mountain.
"Work," Noi muttered. "Work, work, wo–"
The Spire screamed. There was no other word for it. Electronic dissonance at a thousand decibels. Madeleine, hands over her ears, was moving back to the statue, all her attention focused on the curling ribbon of light swooping in a tight circle over the southern section of the park, and then coming to a near-halt, dozens of gossamer wings fanning. It was too far for her to clearly see the riders, but she could just make out the shape of them. Three people, one of whom was Gavin, who had driven to her rescue in his apple-green car.
The attackers' position in the north-east corner bought them time, with the Spire blocking the Core’s view of those closest to its base, and the more widely scattered attackers sticking close to their chosen pieces of rubble. But already the dragon was moving, a swift arc north along Elizabeth Street, and then a slow drift toward the Spire from the park’s north-west corner, approaching the double line of Blues pulsing measured punches into the velvety surface.
"Get ready," Noi said, barely audible over the continuing unearthly scream.
Madeleine nodded, resting her hands on the statue’s outstretched arm, tracking the glowing creature’s movements. The tactics Noi and Haron had recommended for dragon slaying were not greatly different to the Rover fight. The dragon had some shielding, and would gain strength from force punches. They needed to keep it still long enough for the leech Blues to drain it. Quite a task when it was currently drifting about sixty metres above the ground, searching the shadows. Stopping the attack on the Spire would be the Core’s first priority, and a great deal depended on what he chose to do when he spotted the Spire Squad. The best option for the freed Blues would be for the Core to pick up speed and circle the Spire, returning to sweep through the people at the base. But he might drop immediately down toward them, or try to blast them with punches from dragon-back.
"All for one, guys," Pan shouted over the scream of the Spire, hopping up to balance on the mashed stag.
"All for one!" the Musketeers responded, quite as if they’d rehearsed it. One of the figures on the dragon’s back looked toward them.
Around them, others picked up the cry, a scattered echo across the park which united and became a chant, a roar.
"All for one!"
"All For One!"
"ALL FOR ONE!"
For Théoden, Madeleine told herself as layers of gauzy wing beat into a faster pace, and the dragon whisked into a diving curve, crossing directly between the Musketeers and the Spire.
Madeleine punched. Full force, everything she had.