She crouched, watching him. ‘We said a week. You were lucky I’d managed to guess...’
‘If you think I was going to hang around a stinking plague-heap, you were wrong? He sat opposite. ‘Besides, things were getting rough back there. That mob might have got to it first.’ Attia nodded.
Keiro watched ice drip into the fire. The damp wood hissed and crackled. His face was edged with shadows, his blue eyes red-rimmed with weariness, but his old arrogance was still there, his effortless sense of superiority ‘So how was it?’ She shrugged. ‘The magician’s name was Rix. He was . . . strange. Maybe a little mad.’
‘His act was rubbish.’
‘You would think that? She remembered the lightning in the sky, the dripping letters painted by the man who could not write. ‘A few odd things happened. Perhaps because of the Glove. I thought I saw Finn.’ Keiro lifted his head sharply. ‘Where?’
‘It was . . . a sort of dream.’
‘A vision?’ He groaned. ‘Oh, fantastic! That’s all I need!
Another Starseer .’ Dragging the pack nearer, he took out some bread, tore it open and tossed her the smaller part. ‘So what did you see my precious oathbrother doing? Sitting on his golden throne?’ Exactly, she thought, but instead she said, ‘He looked lost.’ Keiro snorted. ‘Sure. Lost in his luxurious corridors and throne rooms. His wine and women. I suppose he’s got them all eating out of his hand, Claudia and his stepmother, the Queen, and whoever else is soft enough to listen to him. I taught him how to do that. I taught him how to survive, when he was a stunned kid sobbing at every loud bang. And this is how he repays me.’ Attia swallowed the last of the bread. She had heard all this before. ‘It wasn’t Finn’s fault you couldn’t Escape.’ He glared at her. ‘I don’t need you to remind me.’ She shrugged, trying not to glance at his hand. He always seemed to wear gloves now, even when it wasn’t so cold. But under the dirty and embroidered red gauntlet was Keiro’s secret, the thing that haunted him and of which he never spoke, the single metal fingernail that told him that he was not entirely human. And that he had no idea how much of his body Incarceron had made.
Now he muttered,’ Finn swore he’d try to find some way to get me Out. All the Sapienti of his pathetic kingdom would work at it. But I don’t intend to wait around. He forgot the Outside, so maybe he’s forgotten us now. All I know is if I ever find him again he’ll regret it.’
‘Unlikely to happen,’ Attia said heartlessly.
He glanced at her, his handsome face flushed. ‘And what about you? Always had a soft spot for poor old Finn, didn’t you?’
‘He saved my life.’
‘Twice. Once with my magic ring. Which I should still have, instead of it being wasted on you.’ She was silent. She was used to his scorn, and his moods.
He tolerated her because she was useful, and she stayed with him because if Finn came back, it would be to find Keiro. She had no illusions about that.
Gloomily, Keiro sank a mouthful of sour beer. ‘Look at me.
Skulking in the Ice Wing, when I should have been leading the old gang now, out on some raid, taking the chief’s share of the plunder. I beat Jormanric in a fair fight! I destroyed him. I had everything in my hands, and I let Finn persuade me to leave it. And what happens? He Escapes and I don’t.’ His disgust was real; Attia didn’t bother to remind him that she had tripped his opponent at the critical moment and won the fight for him. Instead she said, ‘Stop moping. We’ve got the Glove. At least let’s take a look at it.’ He was still a moment, then brought out the silk pouch from his pocket. He dangled it from one finger. ‘What a pretty little thing. I won’t ask how you found out where he kept it.’ She shuffled closer. If her guess had been wrong..
Carefully, Keiro opened the drawstring, tipped out a small dark crumpled object. He spread the thing out on his palm, and they stared at it in fascination.
It was extremely old. And very different from the gloves Rix had worn in his act.
For a start it was not made of fabric, but of some glistening, scaly skin, very soft and supple. Its colour was difficult to define; it seemed to shimmer and change between dark green and black and metallic grey. But it was certainly a glove.
The fingers were worn, and stiff, and the thumb had been repaired with a patch, sewn by ragged stitches. On the gauntlet were pinned a few metal objects, tiny images of a beetle and a wolf, and two swans linked by a fine chain. But most unexpected of all, the fingers of the Glove were tipped with ancient, ivory-yellow claws.
Keiro said wonderingly, ‘Is it really dragonskin?’
‘Could be snake.’ But she had never seen scales so fine and tough.
Slowly, Keiro took his own glove off. His hand was muscular and dirt’
‘Don’t,’ she said.
Sapphique’s Glove looked too small for him. It seemed to be made for a fine, delicate hand.
‘I’ve been waiting a lifetime.’ She knew he thought it would somehow change things, that wearing it might negate the components that were part of him, that if Finn came back through the Portal to fetch him he could follow, by wearing this. But Rix’s warning haunted her.
‘Keiro...’
‘Shut up, Attia.’ He opened the Glove. It crackled slightly and she smelt its fusty, ancient smell. But before he could slide his fingers in the horse raised its head and gave a sharp snort. Keiro froze.
Beyond the rigid waterfall the Ice Wing seemed dark and silent, deserted in its black night. As they listened they heard the low moan of the wind that gusted out there, a cold echo in the meltholes and glaciers of the abandoned landscape.
And then something else.
A chink of metal.
Keiro stamped on the fire; Attia dived behind a rock. There was no way of hiding the horse, but it stood quietly, as if it too sensed the danger.
With the flames gone the Prison’s night was blue and silver; the seamed currents of the waterfall twisted like grotesque marble.
‘See anything?’ Keiro squeezed in beside her, shoving the Glove into his shirt.
‘I thought so. Yes. There.’ A glint, out on the tundra. Aurora reflecting on steel. A flicker of torchlight.
Keiro swore. ‘Is it Rix?’
‘I don’t see how it can be Rix could never have caught up with them, not with the clumsy waggons. She narrowed her eyes and stared.
There was something out there. It lurched in the shadows.
As the light it carried flared up she glimpsed a grotesque creature, lumpy, as if it had many heads. It clanked, as if its body was made of chains. A thread of dread touched her spine. ‘What is that?’ Keiro was very still. ‘Something I hoped never to run into.’ His voice was drained of all bravado; glancing at him she saw only a flicker of his eyes.
It was making straight for them. Perhaps it could smell the horse, or sense the frozen water. The chinking became regular, as if the thing marched with military precision. As if its centipede legs were a legion.
Keiro said, ‘Get on the horse. Leave everything.’ The fear in his voice made her move without question. But the horse sensed it too, and it whinnied, loud in the silence.
The creature stopped. It whispered. It had many voices, and its heads turned, hydra-like, to each other. Then it began to lope raggedly, awkwardly, parts of it falling, being dragged, staggering up. It yelled and swore at itself, bunched in a dark bristling mass. Sword blades and flames gleamed in its hands. Green aurora flickered over it.
It was a Chain-gang.
Claudia stared at the boy. He straightened, saw her, and smiled, warmly. ‘Claudia! You’ve grown up so much. You look wonderful!’ He stepped towards her and before she could move or the guards could stop him he had taken her hand and kissed it, formally.