The Silk Wing skimmed the jagged rocks and an updraught from the mountain peak snatched them into a turbulent vortex of air, and it was all Tilbury could do to keep them flying straight. The swirling currents smoothed out and they found themselves rising up, up and up above the mountain range, above the clouds and high above the world.
‘We have to go back for Marfaire,’ said Nimble-Quick.
‘It’s impossible. There is nowhere to land,’ said Tilbury.
‘But Tilbury …’ began Nimble-Quick. But her voice faltered, for she knew the truth that neither dared say, that they could not rescue Marfaire, and that she would not want them to. This was her choice, and she had wanted them to go on.
As the Silk Wing caught fresh mountain winds, Rose didn’t need to wind the propeller quite so often and the three young rats could breathe more easily.
Nimble-Quick took the Cursed Night from inside her bird-suit and slipped it into Tilbury’s rucksack. ‘You must carry it again,’ she said gravely.
Tilbury hefted the rucksack, feeling the weight of the diamond inside him. He missed Marfaire with all his heart and soul. He missed her fierce wisdom, but most of all he knew he would miss her kindness and her trust, for she had not doubted him, even when he had doubted himself the most of all. The Cursed Night felt heavier than ever, and somehow the need to return it to the Sand Rats was more important than anything if they were to free themselves from the curse.
And so the Silk Wing flew high above the glittering Diamond River, following its path to the sea and to the diamond mine, where the Cursed Night had been dug from the earth so long ago.
As the eastern sky began to lighten, and the first rays of sun flared into the sky, Tilbury felt hope soar too, that soon he would return the Cursed Night and fulfil the prophecy.
Soon, they would be free.
Tilbury followed the river, away from the mountains, across the plains and over farmland and human cities. As the sun rose in the sky, rising thermals of air lifted the Silk Wing higher and the three young rats could sit back and let it soar. And now Tilbury had time to marvel at this flying machine, its design and beauty, and he wished he could talk with Bartholomew. The Dockland Rats hailed Bartholomew as an eccentric genius and a troubled hero. And maybe that was how he wanted to be remembered, Tilbury thought, because no one wants to be the villain of their own story. But Bartholomew had hidden his deep shame in his own lifetime, unable to tell even his own mother the truth. He had rewritten his own story.
‘Look,’ said Rose, leaning forward. ‘There! I can see the sea.’
Tilbury peered at the horizon, and a strip of sea reflected the sunlight. Noon had passed and the layers of air were cooling. The Silk Wing could not gain as much height on the thermals.
Nimble-Quick leaned forward. ‘That must be the diamond mine,’ she said, pointing to a deep, wide man-made crater in the ground. The humans had long gone, and from high up all they could see was an open mine, overgrown with grasses and shrubs.
Tilbury circled the mine and they all looked down, trying to see any signs of life.
‘Do you think anyone lives down there?’ asked Nimble-Quick.
Rose stared down but said nothing. Maybe her homeland was empty. Maybe the descendants of the Sand Rats had gone.
The river fanned out into a broad delta with networks of smaller rivers and islands as it opened into the sea. Tall dark clouds were forming in the distance, their underbellies swelled with rain.
‘We’ll have to land soon,’ said Tilbury. ‘A storm is coming.’
‘The riverbank looks flat enough,’ said Nimble-Quick, pointing to a wide stretch of sand to the west of the diamond mine.
‘You’ll have to hold on,’ said Tilbury. ‘We’ve got no wheels.’
Tilbury brought the Silk Wing in a wide circle and straightened up, aiming for the riverbank. Rose stopped the propeller and they glided down, and soon the Silk Wing was level with the tops of the grasses along the riverbank.
‘Hold on,’ cried Tilbury as the Silk Wing made contact with the hard ground. They bumped twice, the Silk Wing rising into the air and bouncing back down, then they hit a rock, and the Silk Wing whirled though the air.
The world spun around Tilbury: sand and grass and sky in a twirling blur. He heard the ripping tear of the silk and the twang of the tension wires snapping, as the Silk Wing fell apart around him.
Pain shot through him, as it splintered into pieces.
It came to a stop with a sickening, stomach-lurching thud, and Tilbury found himself flying through the air.
He felt his body slam into the hard ground, and then he didn’t feel anything at all.