Rye stood up. Ignoring the shocked and furious cries of the other prisoners, he ran to his brother.
‘Sholto!’ he gasped, pressing his hands to the invisible barrier. ‘We thought you were dead!’
Sholto shook his head. ‘Rye, what are you doing here?’ he said furiously. ‘By the Wall, you have ruined everything!’
21 - Plans
It was not at all the greeting Rye had expected. As he stared at Sholto, aghast, he suddenly realised that he no longer had to look up to meet his brother’s eyes. He had grown taller since Sholto went away, and now they were almost the same height. Once this would have pleased him enormously. Now it merely added to his feeling of strangeness.
The other prisoners were whispering, their voices hissing behind him like foam on the shore. They had not attacked him, as he had half expected. Perhaps Sonia had defended him by quickly explaining why he had not tricked Sholto as he had promised.
‘We came to find you, Sholto,’ Rye stammered. ‘Dirk and I thought—’
‘Dirk?’ Sholto snapped. ‘Dirk is alive? But where is he?’
‘He was left in the Scour,’ said Rye. ‘He was …’
A great, aching lump rose in his throat. It was impossible to explain—impossible to find the words, with Sholto’s angry eyes upon him.
You have ruined everything …
Rye understood only too well. Sholto had made a plan. Working alone, and in constant danger of discovery, he had been gathering the information he needed to carry the plan out. And now …
He heard Sonia’s footsteps behind him. She took his arm, and he felt her loyalty to him and her fury with his brother flow through him in equal measure.
‘Sholto, are you going to stand there snarling at Rye, or are you going to free us?’ she demanded.
Sholto raised his eyebrows. Sonia’s appearance had plainly taken him by surprise. Like Kyte and everyone else, he had thought she was one of Bird’s people. Now that she was standing upright, with Rye’s black coat draped around her shoulders, he could see his error.
Typically, however, he made no comment and asked no questions. He merely answered her. ‘I cannot free you,’ he said in a level voice. ‘I am sorry.’
The blow was so great that Rye staggered where he stood.
‘Are you saying,’ Bird shouted, as her companions cried out in dismay and disbelief, ‘that you’d rather watch your own brother being eaten alive than risk giving yourself away? What sort of man are you?’
Sholto’s lips twisted wryly. ‘A man who should have made his meaning clearer, it seems. I can release you from this cell, but I cannot free you. Brand is taking no risks of spies interfering with the test. I heard just now that this floor has been cut off from ground level. Brand has taken the lifting chambers under his own control. Our door wands will not operate them. We are all trapped down here.’
He frowned down at the slim grey tube in his hand. ‘And even if we were not,’ he went on doggedly, ‘there would still be no escape. The whole Harbour building has been sealed, and will remain sealed until after the test tomorrow. No one can get in. And no one can get out.’
A heavy silence fell. Sholto went on, his voice very calm. Only Rye could have had any idea of the misery he was feeling.
‘Guards will be patrolling this floor for the rest of the night. If they find this cell empty, they will search until they find you—and find you they will, make no mistake. They will smell you out wherever you are hiding.’
‘We know that as well as you do, Spy’s Brother,’ Bean retorted, before Rye could say a word about the concealing hood. ‘But I’d rather die fighting guards than stay in here waiting to be slaughtered by those—those monsters you are helping to breed.’
His companions murmured fervent agreement.
‘We can do better than die fighting guards,’ Sonia said quietly.
Rye looked at her. So did everyone else.
Sonia’s eyes were very green. She shrugged. ‘If we have to die in any case, why not take the monsters with us?’
‘And how would you propose doing that?’ Sholto drawled.
‘Set this place on fire and burn them,’ said Sonia, meeting his cool gaze defiantly. ‘Burn them all!’
Yes! Rye’s heart gave a great thud.
Sholto’s face was like a pale mask. He leaned forward. ‘If fire was remotely possible I would have used it by now. Do you imagine I would have let the skimmers live and breed one moment longer than I could help?’
Sonia stared at him, a puzzled crease deepening between her brows.
‘There is no fire at the Harbour,’ Sholto said. ‘Did you not see the signs? Flame—or anything capable of making flame—is forbidden.’
He leaned closer, and now everyone in the cell could see and recognise the frustration that had made deep grooves in his pallid skin and hollowed his dark eyes.
‘Heat and light are created here by some means I have not been able to discover,’ he said. ‘None of the substances kept here will explode, alone or mixed together—’
‘What about that?’ Bird interrupted, pointing to the weapon at Sholto’s hip.
Sholto shook his head. ‘It blows smoke, that is all. Smoke calms the skimmers a little so they can be fed, just as it calms bees when honey is to be taken from a hive. But somehow the smoke is created without fire by—’
‘Sorcery,’ Chub hissed.
Sholto looked down his nose. ‘By some means I have not yet been able to discover,’ he finished severely. ‘The point is, there is no way to burn this place.’
A sigh gusted around the cell. Sonia looked devastated. She turned away, pulling the stiff black coat more closely around her shoulders.
Rye’s eyes had not left his brother’s face. ‘Fire may not be possible,’ he murmured. ‘But you have thought of another way of destroying the skimmers, Sholto, I know you have. What is it?’
‘There is no point in discussing it,’ Sholto said impatiently. ‘It is just an idea, and now I will never have the chance to try it. I am new here, and some are still wary of me. Once it is known that you have escaped from the cell, I will be the first to be suspected of helping you. Even if they cannot prove it, they will watch my every move from now on. Still …’ He shrugged. ‘Whatever comes of it, I cannot leave you here.’
He raised the opening wand and pointed it at the shimmering barrier in front of him. As it whispered and slid aside, he stood back. Plainly he was expecting the prisoners to rush the doorway.
But no one moved.
‘You call the monsters “skimmers”, Spy,’ Bird said, looking at Rye. ‘They are known, then, where you come from.’
It was not a question, but a statement.
Rye met her earnest eyes. Again, she reminded him strongly of FitzFee. He knew it was time for the truth—at least as much of the truth as he was free to tell.
‘The Master has been sending them to attack us,’ he said simply. ‘That is why we came here—to try to stop him.’
‘And we came between you and your goal,’ Bird said soberly. She exchanged glances with Bean, Itch, Chub and the other prisoners. They seemed to come to some silent agreement.
‘Well, you and Witch had better go about your business, and help your brother carry out his plan,’ she said briskly. ‘We’ll stay here in the cage. With luck, the guards won’t realise that anything’s amiss. Then at least we’ll go to our deaths knowing that something good will come of this.’
Sholto gaped at her, his calm mask slipping for once. ‘That is—truly noble,’ he muttered after a moment. ‘But I fear your sacrifice would be pointless. The guards will notice that Rye is missing. They will be looking out for him in particular. He is the enemy spy—Kyte’s prize! And the supervisor knows about him too.’