T. Church - Return to Canifis

“Get up and get out,” he repeated. “Go to our place. I will finish up here.”

“I was trying to help! He attack-”

“I know, but I can take care of myself. Now, go. Tell no one of this, and clean your hand before you leave here.”

“My hand?” She lifted it to the light and saw that it was stained in blood-and something else. Something else that looked like scrambled egg.

“I cracked his skull open, Pia. Now, go.”

Something in his voice and the look in his eyes made her grow cold. She took the quivers up in her arms and without knowing why, she ran-first to the subterranean well where she washed herself, and then up to the surface, to deposit her burden before Kara and Theodore, who were busy distributing the weapons they would take with them.

No one noticed her as she climbed the scaffolding back to the groove in the rock, they were all so busy below as the balloon gradually took shape. No longer was it a flat canvas with a loose net hanging at its base, but rather it looked like an upturned garlic bulb. Down each side of the balloon there hung a primitive rope ladder that led up to the top. The nets for the passengers were stitched to the balloon’s canvas near its bottom, a few yards hanging below it into empty space.

She watched it for a moment, and then when she was alone her thoughts turned to Hereward. She drew her knees up to her chin and thought of what she had done.

I am a murderess now , she thought frantically. I deserve to be hanged.

She didn’t know how long she sat like that, but when she looked up again the now familiar and still wondrous sight of the pink horizon was there.

“It will be dawn soon. Time for us to fly.”

Vanstrom . He stood over her.

“What did you do with-”

“It doesn’t matter. It is too late for anything to interfere now. Soon, we will leave this place, and all that we did here-all the ugly little things that we had to do to survive. They will be like nightmares. And nightmares cannot hurt us, can they, Pia?”

Vanstrom sat behind her, his strong arms around her shoulders, holding her.

Restraining her.

Frightening me.

“Can they, Pia?”

“No… no…”

Vanstrom pushed forward suddenly. And Pia panicked.

He means to kill me, too.

She twisted in his grasp. Her foot slid outward, toward the edge, her leg bent. The edge of the rock was right behind her, disappearing into a hundred-yard drop that ended in the shallows of the lagoon.

No chance.

Pia lost her balance.

“Please… no please…”

Vanstrom’s hand shot out. He seized her wrist and pulled her back.

“By the gods, girl, what do you think you are doing? Sit quiet and be still.”

She looked into his eyes and felt his arms press about her, as if he was afraid she might try to pull away.

“I… I don’t know… I… I’m sorry.”

The words stumbled out of her mouth in a near whisper.

“You’re crying. You’re scared,” he said. “Scared of me and of what we’ve done. But we did the right thing, Pia. You did the right thing. Hereward tried to kill me, and if he had succeeded he would have ended the hopes of everyone here.” He went silent for a long moment, and then spoke again. “Tell me, what do you think of Albertus Black?”

She shook her head in confusion.

“Albertus? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Did you know that he went to offer his life in exchange for yours, Pia, and for Jack’s? That that was what finally ended the embassy’s protection? He was injured when he did so, according to Gleeman. When you return to the plateau, Pia, take a long look at that dying old man. He offered his life in exchange for yours. He may well end up giving it, for I cannot see him living for much longer.

“Should he die, then it will be your duty to live a good life, Pia. So when you go back down there, look him in the eye and know what he offered to do for you and your brother. Don’t make his sacrifice worthless by throwing away the chance he has given you.

“Do you understand?”

Pia nodded, though she was not certain.

“Come, Pia,” he said. “Let us wait here together for a few minutes more, and watch the dawn. It won’t be long now.”

Suddenly a great roar went up from behind them. Pia looked down onto the plateau and saw the balloon jerk upward. Down below, the gnome’s burner was expelling an orange flame. The balloon tugged upon the two ropes at each end, lifting the device gently from the ground, and it was buffeted by the wind.

“It’s ready!” Master Peregrim shouted out. “Now we need a few volunteers to man the top. People who are good with bows.”

Pia saw several volunteers step forward. Castimir was pushed forward by Arisha, and both Kara and Theodore were chosen. Lord Despaard and Harold also.

“Where are they going to go?” she asked.

“On top of the balloon we have added a wooden platform. The plan is to have several archers up there in case anyone should try to prevent our escape. Do you see those ropes at the balloon’s sides, the ones that go from the ground to the top?”

Pia looked and gave a nod.

“Watch then, as each of your friends is raised to the top.”

Kara was the first to go. Pia watched as she strapped a harness over her shoulder. The rope was then pulled through it. At a signal, several people heaved on the end of a second line. Kara was wrenched into the air, using her hands and feet to push against the balloon’s surface as she was lifted. Soon she rounded the bulbous top and emerged standing in the centre. She gave a shout and very quickly Theodore was lifted up after her.

“We should go down,” Pia whispered.

“Wait,” Vanstrom murmured. “Something’s wrong.”

The inhabitants of Hope Rock had split into two groups. Argumentative voices could be heard, and very soon fingers were pointing and waving.

“What’s going on?” Pia asked.

“They don’t want to go,” Vanstrom observed. “Some of them think it’s suicide.”

Pia saw Arisha step forward, to stand between the two groups, but even her presence wasn’t enough to halt the discord. Someone called out for Hereward, another for Karnac, and in the morning light Pia saw the sun-kissed glimmer of drawn daggers.

“They will kill each other-and all of us-unless this madness is stopp-”

Vanstrom froze.

“What’s wrong?” she said. “What’s happening?”

“Did you hear that? From the north I think.”

Vanstrom ran across the top of the circle toward the lift. It had been raised and the windlass locked, as it was whenever it wasn’t in use. The pregnant woman who stood watch there had been drawn to the argument.

“By the gods, it’s them,” Vanstrom murmured, his face pale. “They have found us at last.”

“What?” Pia asked, her fear growing. “What is it? I don’t see anything?”

“Listen girl, listen . On the wind. Do you hear?”

Pia fell silent and angled her head to the north. The wind rushed by, causing a faint roaring, but then, over that, there was a growing howl.

It can’t be. Not here.

She listened again, and once more heard the cries.

Vanstrom was already moving. Pia ran after him, down the wooden scaffold and into the midst of the angry mob.

“It is too late for us now!” he roared. “Listen! Listen to the wind, all of you. Can you not hear them? Can you? They are upon us now. Listen!”

Some spat derisively at him, but the majority listened.

And sheltered from the wind by the rock wall, as Pia’s heart smashed in her chest and her ears thrummed to its beat, she heard the sound again.

It was howling. The howling of wolves. The werewolves of Canifis had found them.