Andrea Höst - And All the Stars

"Practice again," Fisher said, still maintaining the crisp, businesslike tone which made it bearable to be near him. "Get a feel for it at full size."

On another day, even with the two upright posts to hold, standing on the edge of such a drop would have had Madeleine gulping, trying to convince herself the floor wasn’t tilting. But this night, in sight of the Spire, she was only allowing herself to think of her friends, of Noi down there needing rescue. And of carrying out the plan Théoden had died to set in motion.

Narrowing her eyes, she raised a shield a few metres in front of her, then began to thin and shape it, so it became a massive curve facing away from her, hopefully matching the form Fisher claimed would help her control direction. It was difficult to be sure: she had never tried anything like this with her shields, and its near-invisibility made the process a kind of mental sculpture, theoretically producing a combination between a sled and an oversized paraglider. The wind tugged at her, the tiny gust suddenly immensely powerful, so she hastily released the shield and moved back.

"Okay," she said.

"Because of the size, your descent should be slow, allowing you time to experiment with steering. It can be more responsive than a parachute, given you’ll be on top, and can alter it at will. Do you think you can change the shape quickly?"

"Maybe." This still involved jumping off a building.

"If you find this too difficult to control, try shifting to the more triangular glider shape I showed you. Even if you panic and let the shield drop, just make another, as large as possible as fast as you can. It doesn’t need to be complex – anything large will give you the drag to slow down." He paused. "If you can’t do it, signal once I’ve landed, and I’ll get the lift key and come for you."

She almost looked at him, then made the tiniest negative motion with her head. "I can manage."

"I’ll see you down there, then," he said, voice momentarily flattening. He stepped into the gap, holding the upright supports tightly. Wind ruffled his mop of hair, and with barely a pause he tipped forward, and vanished.

Catching her breath, Madeleine clutched the railing, and in the night-time shadows spotted him only because he was falling, slowing as she watched. He must not have spread the shield till he was well on his way. Conserving his strength. He curved toward the hotel, the movement controlled, effortless. She lost sight of him in the gloom as he circled, then saw a tiny shape pass over the lighted rectangle of the rooftop pool.

Seeing how quickly and easily Fisher had managed somehow made it worse for Madeleine. There was no way she could swoop down like that. Jump off a building and work out how to fly, all in an easy two-step process? Maintain a shaped shield while falling? No matter how strong she was, that was beyond any reasonable learning curve. She’d end up slamming into the support shaft of Sydney Tower, or zooming off toward the Spire. Or dropping like a stone.

Her hands on the cold railing felt slick and damp, and she shivered in the late autumn chill. Impossible. Beyond impossible.

Noi . She repeated the name out loud. Noi down there, possessed by one of the Five. The need to bring her back was a rock-hard certainty, a promise never quite spoken. Noi, and Emily, Min, Nash, Pan. Lee Rickard would certainly have something to say about being able to fly beneath the stars.

She raised her shield, working quickly, having learned the power of even a tiny wind. The possibility of being dragged off her feet helped, because it meant she could not keep standing there, clutching the railing uprights.

" Straight on till morning ," she breathed, and tilted forward.

There was no plunge. Madeleine glided with soap bubble ease, the sensation almost that of sliding over ice, the shield beneath her far more responsive than she’d anticipated. She shifted it a degree, as easily as moving a mental arm, and the glide became a leisurely swoop toward Central Station.

Glorious!

Unhurriedly, for she was still very high, Madeleine attempted to follow Fisher’s instructions, and made a minor adjustment to the shape, a curling of one corner, taking care to keep her changes small. She curved to the left, circling over the Anzac Memorial at the southern end of Hyde Park, and drifted back. The hotel was a good place to aim for, with its distinctive terraces and long upper roof. Still too far below to hope to land, but if she went south again and lined herself up as if for a runway, she would have plenty of opportunity to correct her height, and face far less risk of overshooting.

The city spun below her, reduced to blockish shapes and streaking lights. The Spire was a slim shadow ahead to her right, Sydney Tower a shorter rival to the left. Blobbish lumps below were all she could make out of Hyde Park’s trees, which were far too low to pose any danger of collision, and provided a simple line to use as a guide. The hotel’s long roof was not entirely flat, had some kind of air-conditioning plant on top, but that was long and flat as well, and she dropped to a mere leg-breaking distance as the near edge of the long centre building approached. Passing above four large fans, she lifted a little to barely clear a white circular projection, then swooped down the last few feet to the surface of the roof, contracting her shield so that her landing was a little fast, but obligingly bouncy.

Done. Face-down on concrete, arms spread wide, safe. She rolled onto her back and stared up at a foreshortened view of two towers. Had he known how that flight would make her feel? Lined up this domino, knowing she would desperately need to be uplifted? It had helped, so much. Théoden, all that she felt, was still a roil of confusion and grief, but the barbed wire had rusted through. It was gratitude which blurred the stars.

The recollection that she was lying on the roof of a hotel full of possessed Blues prodded her to movement. She scrambled to her feet and padded softly to the north end of the section of roof. The curve of the pool room roof was a lighted jewel below, and Fisher waited just before it, a so-familiar silhouette. Kneeling, she reversed, dangled and dropped down off the plant level, noticing deep scrapes in the concrete as she let go. The Core must land his dragon up there.

Another drop and she was beside the pool, Fisher turning as if to take her arm, then stopping short. But Madeleine had found the strength to keep herself focused on her goals, and was not thrown by the near touch.

"Were there cameras monitoring me?" she whispered. "Will the Moths know what’s happened?"

"There were cameras, just not enough. They can’t see the place where Théoden is, and will only know that you have gone up on the roof with what they will think is him. They can tell a possessed Blue from a non-possessed, but not through a camera image."

"So they’ll know right away when they see you?"

"Yes. Every Blue we encounter, you will need to spirit punch immediately. Most of the Moths will die." The clipped tone wavered for a moment, then resumed. "If there’s multiple Moths, I’ll try to revive the fallen Blues while you fight, and it will be easier as we progress because our numbers will grow. However, the strongest Moths, particularly the Five, can survive separation from the host. That’s why, before we go for Noi, we need Nash."

"To drain, like he did the Rover." Some of what needed to be done was obvious. Dominos, falling into place.

"Nash won’t be possessed – he’s being held for much the same reason you were. Any Greens will need to be shield-paralysed and locked up. Ideally, we want to collect Nash and free Noi as quickly and quietly as possible. If an alarm is raised – well, that will involve running, and passing on the information we have before the united strength of the En-Mott clans descends on us."