“Up here, quick!”
She clumped up the ladder into the cabin. He was out on deck, staring up at the sky. She went out. The sea was dotted with low-hanging patches of mist or fog and a scattering of icebergs, large and small.
“What do you make of that?” said Holm, pointing.
She squinted up at the sky, which was half covered in grey, wind-shredded cloud. She rubbed her eyes and looked again, but she was so tired her eyes would not focus. All she could see was a faint dark shape. “A bird, I assume.”
He gave her a sardonic glance. “A bird?”
“Until a month ago I’d never seen the sky, much less a live bird. If you know, why don’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know what it is. That’s the problem.”
“What do you think it is?”
“It’s not a bird, and it’s not a bat. That rules out anything natural.”
“A blown-away kite?” said Tali. She had seen children playing with kites in Caulderon.
“It’s flying, not drifting.”
“Haven’t you got a telescope or anything?”
“I fell on hard times a while ago and had to sell it. Haven’t replaced it yet.”
“But you’re afraid of something.”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to tell me what it is?”
“I don’t want to alarm you.”
“You’re alarming me.”
“I think it’s a shifter.”
A line of shivers ran up the back of her neck and over the top of her head. “A flying shifter?”
“Yes.”
Memory stirred, sank, stirred again. “Is it a gauntling?”
“It looks like one — and that’s bad. Of all the shifters Lyf has created, gauntlings are the most troubling.”
“I would have thought that caitsthes were the worst.”
“They’re powerful, and vicious, but they’re also predictable. Gauntlings aren’t — but they are intelligent.”
“How do you know?”
“Shifters are one of my hobbies.”
Tali liked nothing about that statement, and it aroused her dormant worries about Holm. Though he had rescued her, and though he had saved her life, she felt sure that he wanted something from her. Did he also want her healing blood, so he could test it on his hobby?
“How long has it been there?” said Tali.
“I first noticed it half an hour ago.”
“What’s it been doing all that time?”
He stared up at the creature, clenching and unclenching his jaw.
“I’m very much afraid,” said Holm, “that it’s watching us.”
CHAPTER 27
The gauntling turned and began to describe slow, descending circles, high above the boat.
“It’s coming down.” Tali retrieved the crossbow and loaded it.
“Not sure it’ll be much use against a shifter that size,” said Holm.
“How can you tell how big it is?”
“You get used to judging sizes and distances, at sea. Reckon its wingspan is a good fifteen feet.”
Three times Tali’s own height.
“And it’d need to be…”
“Why?” said Tali.
“I reckon it’s carrying a rider.”
Tali rubbed her eyes, which were sore from all the sea spray. As the gauntling descended, she made out legs hanging below the middle, but not the spindly little legs of the gauntling she had seen above Fortress Rutherin.
“It’s spying for Lyf. When it reports back, they’ll send a boat after us.”
“And not cockleshell craft like we dealt with last time,” said Holm. “They’ll send a proper boat, and they’ll be prepared for anything.”
“Can you hide from it?”
“Pray for a storm, or for the fog to thicken,” he said, “though I wouldn’t want to navigate these waters in either. Likely as not we’d come to grief on a reef or a berg. Keep watch.”
The gauntling was still descending in slow, sweeping circles. Was it coming down to make sure of her identity? She paced the deck, checked the crossbow, and checked it again.
She put it down and bent over, rubbing her sore eyes. When she straightened up, the gauntling was gone.
It could not have disappeared; it must be behind a cloud. Though the clouds were too high, and the scattered fog banks, hanging above the water, seemed too low.
“Holm?”
“Yes?”
“The gauntling’s disappeared.”
He ran out. “Where did you see it last?”
“Up there. I just rubbed my eyes for a few seconds, and when I looked for it, it wasn’t there.”
“I suppose it’s gone back to report,” said Holm. “Keep watch in case it’s hiding behind an iceberg. I’m just popping below.”
The nearest iceberg was a good mile away. He returned to the wheel and the boat turned towards a fog bank half a mile off. It wasn’t much of a hiding place. The gauntling could circle above it, waiting for the fog to thin, or direct searchers in boats back to the area.
She was staring up at the sky when there came a shrieking whistle behind her, like wind howling across tortured wings. Tali whirled to see the gauntling hurtling low over the water, its clawed feet extended, straight for her.
“Holm! It’s here!”
Where had she put the crossbow? She turned around, around, around. There it was, right where she had left it. She grabbed it, aimed for the creature’s chest and fired, but her hands were shaking and the bolt missed.
Still Holm did not reply. The rider stood upright in the stirrups, pulled off a helmet and a cascade of black, wavy hair streamed out behind her. Lizue! She had tried to kill Tali before and she was here to finish the job.
“Holm,” she shrilled. “It’s Lizue.”
Tali scrabbled another bolt out of the bag, slammed it into the groove and desperately wound the crank. She would not hesitate this time. If she got a chance to draw bead on Lizue’s chest, she would put a bolt right into her heart.
Where was Holm? She shot a glance over her shoulder and he was not at the wheel. That’s right; he’d gone down the ladder and might not have heard her.
The gauntling shot across the deck, directly above. Tali fired and seemed to get it in the tail, which lashed about like a dying snake. Lizue sprang off. As she soared through the air, arms outstretched, Tali was struck by two contrasting thoughts: how extraordinarily beautiful Lizue was, and how determined she was to cut Tali’s head off.
There wasn’t time to reload the crossbow. Lizue slammed into Tali, knocking her to the deck. She tried to whack Lizue in the face with the crossbow. Lizue elbowed Tali so hard in the nose that her eyes flooded with tears, momentarily blinding her, then struck her on the elbow. Tali’s forearm went numb and the crossbow skidded away across the deck.
She blinked away the tears and jammed a finger into one of Lizue’s eyes. Lizue reared back, dropped her head and attempted to butt Tali in the face. Tali elbowed her in the mouth, splitting her lip.
Lizue heaved Tali onto her back and jammed her left knee into Tali’s belly, pinning her to the deck. Her thigh was bandaged where the Sullen Man had stabbed her. It looked swollen and fresh blood was seeping through the bandage.
The injury must be exceedingly painful — how had Lizue kept going all this time? After Tali had taken that Cythonian arrow in the thigh, out in the Seethings, only intensive healing magery had allowed her to walk on it. Tali clubbed her fist, swung it around and drove it against the stab wound with all her might.
Lizue threw her head back, let out a shriek and fell backwards, her teeth bared. Tali rolled over and scrabbled across the deck, desperate to get out of reach. Lizue was her master in every respect and fighting her hand-to-hand could only end one way. But as she regained her feet, Lizue overcame the pain and attacked with a flurry of punches, trying to finish Tali as quickly as possible.
A blow to the jaw rocked her backwards; a second blow to her nose sent blood gushing from it.
“Holm!” she gasped. “Help.”
Was he absenting himself deliberately? Could he be working with Lizue? He had tracked Tali down immediately after Lizue’s first, failed attack, after all. Had he brought Tali this way so as to sell her to Lyf?