Кэтрин Фишер - Sapphique

Claudia said, ‘It’s the same sound we heard before, when my father spoke to us.’

‘It’s louder now’

‘Have you any idea …’ He shook his head. ‘In all my time Inside I never heard anything like that.’ For a moment only the heartbeat filled the room. Then from Finn’s pocket came a sudden pinging that startled them both. He pulled out her father’s watch.

Startled, Claudia said, ‘It’s never done that before.’ Finn flicked open the gold lid. The clock hands showed six o’clock; the chimes rang out like tiny urgent bells. As if in response the Portal chuntered and went silent.

She came closer. ‘I didn’t know it had an alarm. Who set it?

Why now?’ Finn didn’t answer. He was staring gloomily at the time.

Then he said, ‘Perhaps to tell us there’s only an hour left till the deadline.’ The silver cube that was Incarceron spun slowly on its chain.

‘Take care here, both of you.’ Jared climbed over the rooffall. He turned and held up the lantern so that Caspar could manage. ‘Perhaps we should untie his hands?’

‘I wouldn’t advise it.’ Medlicote prodded the Earl with the firelock. ‘Quickly, sire.’

‘I could break my neck!’ Caspar sounded more irritable than worried. As Jared helped him over the pile of stones he slid and swore. ‘My mother will have both of you beheaded for this. You do know that?’

‘Only too well.’ Jared peered ahead. He had forgotten the state of the tunnel; even when he and Claudia had first explored it it had been in a state of collapse, and that had been years ago. She had always meant to have it repaired, but had never got round to it. There was nothing false about its age or the frequent crumbling of its walls. A brick vault loomed over him, green with dripping slime and infested with mosquitoes that whined around the lantern.

‘How much further?’ Medicote asked. He looked worried.

‘I think we’re under the moat.’ Somewhere ahead an ominous plopping noise told them of a leak.

‘If this roof comes down … Medlicote muttered. He didn’t finish. Then he said, ‘Perhaps we should go back.’

‘You may go back any time you wish, sir: Jared ducked through hanging webs into the dark. ‘But I intend to find Claudia. And we would do well to be out of here before the cannon start firing.’ But as he pushed on into the stinking darkness he wondered whether they had started already, or whether the pounding in his ears was just his own heartbeat.

Attia walked through the small door and staggered, because the world was tilted. It straightened itself under her feet, so that she almost fell, and had to grab Rix to keep her balance.

He, staring upwards, did not even notice.

‘My god!’ he said. ‘We’re Outside!’ The space had no roof, no walls. It was so vast it had no ending, nothing but steamy mist through which they couldn’t see.

In that instant she knew she was tiny in the face of the universe; it terrified her. She edged close to Rix and he grasped her hand, as if he, too, was moved by that sudden giddiness.

Swirls of steam curled miles above them like clouds. The floor was made of sonic hard mineral, the squares of it enormous. As the Warden led them forward their footsteps were loud across the shining black surface. She counted. It took thirteen steps to reach the next white square.

‘Pieces on a chessboard: Keiro voiced her thoughts.

‘As Outside, so within,’ the Warden murmured, amused.

And there was silence. That was what scared her most. The heartbeat had stopped as soon as they passed the door, as if they had somehow entered its very chambers, and here, so deep within itself, no sound lived.

A shadow flickered on the clouds.

Keiro turned, quickly. ‘What was that?’ A hand. Enormous. And then, a beam of light moving over feathers, vast feathers each taller than a man.

Rix stared up, bewildered. ‘Sapphique,’ he gasped. ‘Are you here?’ It was a mirage, a vision. It hung in the clouds and rose like a colossus into the sky, a great being of white shimmers and drifts of steam; a nose, an eye, the plumage of wings so wide they could enfold the world.

Even Keiro was awed. Attia couldn’t move. Rix muttered under his breath.

But the Warden’s voice, behind them, was calm.

‘Impressed? But that too is an illusion, Rix, and you don’t even spot it?’ His scorn was rich and deep. ‘Why should mere size impress you so much? It’s all relative. What would you say if I told you that the whole of Incarceron is actually tinier than a cube of sugar in a universe of giants?’ Rix tore his eyes from the apparition. ‘I’d say you were the madman, Warden.’

‘Perhaps I am. Come and see what causes your mirage.’ Keiro pulled Attia on. At first she was unable to stop staring back, because the shadow on the clouds grew as they moved away from it, rippling and fading and reappearing.

Rix, though, hurried, after the Warden, as if he had already forgotten his wonder. ‘How tiny?’

‘Tinier than you could imagine.’ John Arlex glanced at him.

‘But in my imagination, I am immense1 I am the universe.

There’s nothing else but me.’ Keiro said, ‘Just like the Prison, then.’ Ahead of them the steam cleared. Alone in the centre of the marble floor, pinpointed by a ring of spotlights, they saw a man.

He was standing on a platform reached by five steps, and at first they thought he was winged, the plumage black as a swan’s. Then they saw he wore a Sapient’s robe of darkest iridescence and it was threaded with feathers. His face was narrow and beautiful, shining with radiance. Each eye was perfect, the lips held in a smile of compassion, his hair dark.

One hand was lifted, the other hung at his side. He did not move, or speak, or breathe.

Rix stepped up on to the lowest step, staring up. Sapphique he murmured. ‘The Prison’s face is Sapphique’s

‘It’s just a statue,’ Keiro snapped.

All around them, as close as a caress against their cheeks, Incarceron whispered, No, it isn’t. It’s my body.

The Portal said something.

Finn turned and stared at it. Wisps of grey, like curls of cloud, were moving over its surface. The hum in the room modulated and changed. All the lights flickered off and on.

‘Get back.’ Claudia was already at the controls.

‘Something’s happening inside.’

‘Your father, he warned us ... about what might come through.’

‘I know what he said!’ She didn’t turn, her fingers playing on the controls. ‘Are you armed?’ He drew his sword, slowly.

The room dimmed.

‘What if it’s Keiro? I can’t kill Keiro!’

‘Incarceron is cunning enough to look like anyone.’

‘I can’t, Claudia!’ He moved closer.

Suddenly, without warning, the room tipped. It spoke. It said, My body …

Finn staggered, slamming against the desk. The sword clattered out of his hand as he grabbed at Claudia but she slid back with a gasp, missing her footing, crashing into the chair, falling back into its seat.

And before she could stand up, she was gone.

Rix moved. He snatched the sword from the Warden’s belt and swung it to Attia’s neck. He said, ‘It’s time to give me my Glove back.’

‘Rix ...‘ Beside her was the right hand of the statue. Small red circuits rippled at its fingers ends.

Do what you have to, my son, the Prison said eagerly.

Rix nodded. ‘I hear you, Master.’ He pulled Attia’s coat open and snatched out the Glove. He held it up in triumph and from all sides the beams of light swivelled and focused on it, throwing swollen replicated shadows not only of the statue now but of all of them, great cloudy Keiros and Attias on the clouds.

‘Behold,’ Rix murmured. ‘The greatest illusion the Prison has ever seen.’ The sword tip whipped away from Attia’s neck. She moved, but Keiro was quicker. Diving forward he batted the blade aside and punched Rix hard in the chest.