Выбрать главу

‘No problem!’ he said, with a forced cheeriness that sounded fake even to him.

His steps became miniscule, shifting his boots centimetres at a time. His hands clutched hard, and refused to let go, so that he had to drag them along the rope and burn his palms on the hemp. He felt very cold, and yet he was sweating.

Centimetre by centimetre. Don’t look down, he told himself, echoing Pinn. And then, just to be bloody-minded, he did so again. It was even worse the second time. He swallowed and faced forward.

‘Go on, Cap’n!’ said Pinn. ‘You’re almost halfway there!’

Frey felt his heart sink. Almost halfway. He’d thought he was nearly at the end. There was more of this torment to go. How did he get himself into these situations?

Slowly, with infinite concentration, he moved along the ropes. They were stout and stable, but even the small amount of give they had sent him into flutters of panic. As long as he kept his feet and hands connected to the rope, he’d be alright. As long as the rope didn’t break.

When he reached the other side, he was genuinely surprised. He stepped off the rope, moved a safe distance from the edge of the chasm. Suddenly, all his misgivings were forgotten, and his bravado reasserted itself. What had he been worried about, anyway? It was easy! If it had been half a metre off the ground instead of hanging over a bottomless pit, he’d have practically run across it! He’d never been in any danger of falling for a moment!

He grinned at Jez and then waved his hands over the chasm at the others. ‘Come on, fellers!’ he called. ‘Nothing to it!’

It took some time, but soon they were safely on the other side, with Crake looking more than a little relieved as he adjusted his pack. Frey looked back to Malvery and Pinn, hunkered down in a circle of light.

‘Shout if you see that bloody awful thing we heard earlier, eh?’ he called maliciously.

‘Right-o,’ said Malvery, not concerned in the least. ‘You too.’

‘Wait, I forgot about that!’ Pinn said. ‘Hey, Cap’n, wait a minute! I’m coming!’

‘You made your choice, Pinn!’ Frey said. ‘See you later.’ He led them off down a new fissure, with Pinn’s increasingly frantic protests echoing in his ears.

Pelaru was becoming visibly agitated now, hurrying them along when he could. He sensed they were getting closer, and his Thacian composure had all but deserted him. Shortly afterwards, a break in the fissure wall led them into a corridor of dank brick, evidently an underground passageway of some kind. It was partially collapsed, but a way had been cleared, and there were fresh bootprints in the dust.

‘Come on,’ said Pelaru. ‘Not far now. It’s not-’

‘Wait,’ said Crake, holding his hand up. He frowned.

‘What’s up?’ Frey asked.

Crake said nothing. Instead he took a lantern from Silo and began poking around the rubble. He picked up a brick and examined it closely.

‘Crake?’ Frey said again.

‘He’s right, Cap’n,’ said Jez. ‘Something’s wrong here. A feeling. Like. . crawling on my skin.’

Crake held out the brick so Frey could see it. There were markings carved on one side. ‘There are other bricks around here, with more markings.’

‘What are they?’ Frey asked, bemused.

‘Well, from what I can make out, they look like wards. Daemonist wards.’

Frey felt a trickle of ice pass down his spine. He’d had enough of daemons to last several lifetimes. ‘Meaning what?’

‘Meaning there was a wall here covered in wards,’ said Crake. He tossed the brick aside. ‘Powerful ones, too. I can still sense them, even now. Probably the wall came down with the quake.’

‘And whatever they were keeping out got in,’ said Ashua.

‘That, or the other way round,’ Silo added.

Pelaru looked pale. Frey thought of the howl they’d heard earlier. ‘Great,’ he said. ‘That’s just bloody marvellous. Crake?’

‘I’ve got some tricks in my pack, Cap’n,’ he said. ‘Can’t be sure they’ll-’

He was interrupted by a cry from Pelaru. The whispermonger pushed past them and up the corridor, disappearing beyond the range of the lantern light. Frey ran after him. A few metres on, he caught up, and found Pelaru staring at something on the ground.

There was a body there. The upper half of one, anyway. It was lying face-down across the corridor, having been roughly ripped in half.

Pelaru wore an expression of anguish on his face. ‘I. .’ he began, but then his mouth dried up.

Frey walked up to the corpse. ‘Calm down, it’s not him,’ he said. ‘Look how withered he is. He’s been dead for ages. There’s not even any blood.’ He hooked his toe under the shoulder of the corpse and flipped it over.

Then it was Frey’s turn to yell.

The body flopped onto its back. The head lolled. An emaciated face, frozen in a yawn of sharp and crooked teeth. Glaring yellow eyes staring blindly.

Frey scrambled back behind Pelaru, almost crashing into Silo in his haste to retreat.

‘It’s a Mane!’ he said. ‘There are Manes down here!’

But Pelaru staggered forward and dropped to his knees by the body. He slid his arms around the grotesque thing on the ground and cradled its head to his shoulder like it was a baby.

‘Half-Mane,’ he whispered. ‘He was only a half-Mane.’

Eight

Osger’s Infection — The Flux Thrower — A Glamorous Life — The Broken Gibbet

‘That’s Osger?’ Frey asked, barely suppressing his disbelief. ‘That’s who we’ve come to find?’

Pelaru didn’t reply. He rocked slowly back and forth, hugging his partner’s severed body to his own, trembling with the effort of keeping his emotions contained. Crake didn’t know whether to be appalled or touched by the bizarre lantern-lit tableau before him.

‘Well,’ said Ashua chirpily. ‘Mission accomplished, I suppose.’

Jez hissed at her, baring her teeth like an animal, making Ashua jump. ‘Not the time for jokes,’ she said, and suddenly she seemed terrifying. ‘Look at him!’

‘Your. . partner was a half-Mane?’ Frey asked. And looking at the Thacian now, Crake realised now that Osger must have been more than just a business partner.

‘Yes. What of it?’ said Pelaru, without raising his head. ‘So is your navigator.’

Of course, thought Crake. He knew the signs. No wonder he was so interested in her.

‘Did he always, er, look like that?’ Frey asked.

‘Of course not, you fool!’ Pelaru snapped. He seemed about to say something else, but he reined himself in, brought himself under control again. His eyes became sad. ‘This isn’t him,’ he said quietly. ‘This is his infection.’

He laid down the body on the ground. It was hard to look at, but not frightening. The daemon was gone. What remained was merely a lump of warped meat. Pelaru seemed to think so too, for when he stood up he didn’t look at it again.

‘Do we need to take him back, bury him or something?’ Ashua asked carefully. She was still a little cowed by Jez. It took a lot to intimidate her, but Jez could do it.

‘There’s no need,’ said Pelaru, suddenly cold. ‘But I ought to find the rest of him.’

He walked off up the corridor a little way. Jez almost went after him, then caught Frey’s look and didn’t.

‘What now, Cap’n?’ Silo asked.

‘What do you think?’

‘Reckon we can’t be far from that shrine. Ought to take a look while we’re here. Seem to remember loot was part of the deal, yuh?’ He fixed the captain with a steady gaze. ‘Can’t think of no other good reason why we’d be down here.’

‘Plus one for looting,’ said Ashua, raising her hand.

‘Whatever you want, Cap’n,’ said Jez distractedly.

‘Crake?’ Frey turned the daemonist.

Crake’s instinct was to get out of there as fast as they could. He ignored it. Marshalling all his bitterness, he said ‘I want to see what the Awakeners were up to in there.’