CHAPTER 23

Important men never lived in the lowest part of town. It was a truth that Va had seen again and again. They somehow believed that altitude gave them status, and they sought out the tallest tower or the highest peak to better look down at the mortals below. In turn, the little people had to shield their eyes and crane their necks to catch sight of their masters. It was political architecture, designed to preserve and reinforce power.

It made it absurdly easy to remove the ruling class of a city. Va had done it before, creeping from one well-appointed house to another, slipping in from a balcony designed for show or a wide tower window, leaving behind him a grisly trail of misery and confusion.

To find the king and his new adviser, Va had looked up, up, until he found the stone tower overlooking the foul-smelling workshops turned over to alchemical practices. Such was their confidence that they had no enemies within the walls, there were no guards.

Va and Elenya passed silently through the deserted sheds, stopping to inspect the barrels of white salt, yellow powder, black dust, and the half-finished tubes waiting for their packing of metal arrows. The door of ill-fitting planks allowed Va to squint out at the base of the tower.

‘There’s a light in the top window. That’s where he’ll be.’

‘Alone?’

‘Probably.’

‘And if he’s not?’

‘I’ll have to improvise.’

‘I won’t stop them from killing you.’

‘You already have.’ Va slid a coil of rope over his head and one shoulder.

‘A moment of weakness. No one should have to die like that.’ Elenya looked through the door herself. ‘It doesn’t look easy.’

‘I’ve climbed worse.’ He rubbed his fingers in the dust and kicked off his sandals.

‘Who would have thought that your former profession would come in so handy?’ she said wistfully. ‘You’ve renounced violence, but not sneaking in through windows.’

‘King Ardhal won’t let me have the book now. His mind’s been corrupted.’ He slipped the latch and eased the door open a fraction. ‘All I can do now is take it.’

‘And Akisi too.’

Va pulled the door back shut. ‘What?’

‘You’re going to have to either kill him or kidnap him. You can’t leave him here, even if you do get him to tell you where the other books are.’ She blinked in the darkness. ‘You don’t think he’s going to stop making these weapons for the king just because you’ve stolen his book back, do you?’

‘I…’

‘You did. Don’t be such an idiot, Va. You’re obsessed with the books when it’s not the books you have to be worried about. It’s what’s in them that’s important, and that’s now in Akisi’s head. Do you know what else he can build? I don’t, but I wouldn’t want to be around when he does. Finish him while you have the opportunity.’

Gnawing at his fist, Va pulled a variety of faces. ‘I won’t commit an act of violence on him.’

‘It would have been so easy before, wouldn’t it?’ said Elenya. ‘A knife at his throat, dig it in, twist it round. And when he broke, gabbled out all he knew, drive it home, up into the brain. Or side to side, making his throat gape and suck air as he bleeds.’

His hand was shaking. ‘I won’t. I can’t.’

‘You do what you have to do. I won’t tell the patriarch.’

‘But I will.’ He took a series of deep breaths, trying to steady himself.

‘What are you going to do then?’ she hissed.

‘I don’t know.’ He opened the door again and slipped out across the courtyard, ducking through the shadows made by half-formed arrow launchers.

Elenya tried to call him back, but he was already at the base of the tower, exploring the gaps in the stonework with his fingertips. The blocks were hard black basalt: the joints hadn’t weathered much, and there were finger spaces only where they’d been poorly fitted together.

Va would have chosen the door rather than the wall, but he planted two fingers in the wall and wedged them in tight. He leaned back and took two steps up. He was off the ground, and somewhere above him was another handhold he could use, no matter how small.

He spent as much time searching for a grip as he did actually ascending. He was forced to move into the shadow just by the way he had to climb, and after a while he shut his eyes and let his hands see for him. He was a black spider with pale legs, and it would only have taken someone to glance up for him to be discovered.

But the wizard’s tower filled the residents of An Cobh with dread, even the watchmen who were supposed to guard the town’s walls. No one was looking.

His face a mask of pain, Va reached the high window. He stole a peek.

Akisi had his back to him. He was sitting at the table, writing in a book with a quill. He was definitely alone.

Va knew his muscles were starting to lock tight. Another moment and he’d not be able to do anything. He raised one foot onto the window ledge, then worked his shoulders into the space. Akisi carried on his scratchy writing.

He took a moment to recover, then unfolded himself onto the floor. He stretched silently, and he could see the glint of silvery metal over the Kenyan’s shoulder. He remembered the fire, the blood, the cold, the rain, the earth. He remembered the Systema.

From where he stood it was just two steps to the back of Akisi’s chair, and still he didn’t turn round. Va put his right arm across the Kenyan’s throat and squeezed it tighter with his left. He lifted slightly, then pulled backwards to increase the effect.

Akisi’s long-fingered hands came up and tried to dislodge Va’s strangle-hold. He scratched and shuffled for the next few heartbeats, but he was unable to make a sound. Va knew that he’d found the pressure points when Akisi’s arms flopped down, and his whole body went limp.

He could let him die by simply standing there and maintaining his hold. He felt the acid rise up in his throat again even as the voices started whispering to him.

‘Oh God, oh God.’ He let go abruptly, instinctively catching the chair as it rocked backwards. Akisi lay on the floor, very still. Va looked at what he’d done–what he’d almost done. He checked Akisi’s breathing and pulse, and decided to turn a moment of sin to virtue.

He had to work quickly. He hog-tied him hand and foot with his rope and gagged him with a strip cut from the hem of his purple cloak. He scanned the desk.

The writing book went into the fire without a second thought. There were some loose papers with it. Some were diagrams, and these joined the flames. One was a map, strange and roughly drawn. He folded it up and tucked in his habit.

The cold metal cover of the User book chilled his hands as he picked it up. This was what he’d come for. The first of twelve. He looked for something to put it in, and found himself staring at the glowing square of cloth hung on the wall. The sight of it, the unnaturalness of it, offended him so much that he snatched at it, ripping it down. The light left the weave immediately, and he was left clutching a bundle of black material eminently suitable for book carrying. He hastily folded the book into the cloth and used more of Akisi’s cloak to tie it closed.

But the room was full of the ghastly works of the Users. The cloth was the least of it. The whole place smelled strange, metallic to the tongue. It had to go. He was suddenly at one with the holy Wreckers: it all had to burn.

Va threw the rest of the cloak into the fire. It hung half in, half out, and the burning wood had already been supplemented by dry paper. Then he was distracted by Akisi coming round and struggling with his bonds.

‘This is justice, thief,’ Va said in Rus. ‘I’ve got the book and I’ve got you.’ He picked up the heavy table and jammed it against the wall underneath the window, then tied the free end of the rope to one of the table legs.

As he started to drag Akisi across the floor towards the window, the man squeaked and moaned behind his gag. He tried to twist and turn, but the rope held him excruciatingly tight, so that he was powerless to resist his progress up onto the table and head-first out of the window.

Va stepped up onto the table behind him, belayed the rope around his shoulder and waist, and pushed with his foot. Akisi tumbled out of sight, and the rope snapped taut with a creak.

Let him fall. An accident. He wouldn’t mean to break the Kenyan on the courtyard below. He could let the rope slide out of his fingers and it would be over. That particular book would be closed for ever.

Eleven more volumes, he told himself. Eleven more. He mustn’t kill Akisi. He swallowed the bile down.

When he could trust himself again, the fire had spread from the hearth to the rug. He forced his hands open a fraction, and the rope started to pay out. He was almost at the end of it when it went limp. Akisi had reached the ground.

He snatched the black bundle of cloth up from the floor, where it was starting to scorch, and slipped his forearm through the bindings. The room was filling with smoke, some of which had to be filtering down the tower. Perhaps firing the room hadn’t been such a good idea after all. He had been too zealous.

Back onto the table, turn, loop the rope once and step in, bringing the loop up across his back. Step out onto the ledge, and fly.

The rope hissed against his callused palms. He didn’t need it to stop him, just to slow him down. The ground rushed up and he pressed his knees together, bent his legs and waited for the hard earth to slap the soles of his feet.

Va rolled with the blow and sprang up. Above him, thick white smoke was billowing out of both the window and the chimney, and the flicker of wild flames lit it in bright orange and red.

Elenya ran out to him. ‘What the hell have you done?’

‘God’s work,’ he said, cutting through the rope that still snaked upwards to the tower window.

‘If the fire spreads to those sheds, what do you think will happen?’

‘I…don’t know.’

‘Stupid, stupid man. You’d never have won Novy Rostov like this. You’d never have lived long enough to pick up a sword in the first place.’ She kicked Akisi. ‘Pick him up and get us out of here. I came along to watch you die, not get myself killed.’

‘The harbour,’ said Va.

‘We have to get there first. You going to carry him all the way?’

‘Yes. Here,’ he said, pressing the book on her. ‘Don’t drop it.’

He sliced the rope that joined Akisi’s hands to his feet, then attempted to throw him over his shoulder. Akisi struggled wildly, jerking like a beached fish, and Va couldn’t hold him.

Elenya slapped the Kenyan’s face hard. ‘He won’t kill you, but I will. Be still.’

‘I wouldn’t let you kill him.’

‘Then you’d end up fighting me.’ The first piece of roof collapsed, sending out a shower of sparks into the night sky. ‘Can we run away now?’ she said.

They dodged through the courtyard and began to hear voices raised in panic, from both inside and outside the tower. A gate burst inwards, and it was only luck that enabled them to hide behind the still-swinging door. A group of men stopped, looked, dithered, then ran towards the tower. Slates were sliding down, shattering, as the roof timbers gave way. With the men fully occupied dodging the bombardment, Va and Elenya ran out of the compound and into the darkened streets of An Cobh.

‘Do you know which way we’re going?’ said Elenya. The book was awkwardly heavy, but not as heavy as Akisi.

‘The sea is this way. I can smell it.’

They turned a corner and came face to face with a group of people wrapped in shawls and cloaks, woken by the noise. An elderly man thought nothing of giving chase, his nakedness exposed by the blanket he held around his thin waist flapping in the wind.

The cry went up, and soon they had a stretched-out trail of followers dogging them through the streets. Only if they threw their burdens away were they going to escape.

Then, in front of them, the clan macDonnabhan blocked their way. Va turned and saw that their pursuers had formed a knot at the last junction. Elenya put the book under one arm and reached for her knife.

‘You call this a plan? Half the town is looking for you.’ said Eoin macDonnabhan. He cleared his throat and called, ‘Everything is under control. We have them now.’

‘Will you take them to the king?’ someone shouted back.

‘They’ll get what they deserve, for sure.’ In a lower voice, so that only his clansmen, Va and Elenya could hear, he added, ‘A sound hiding for getting caught. Now drop Akisi and look beaten.’

Va hesitated, and macDonnabhan stepped forward, brandishing a sword as tall as he was. Elenya held out her knife and levelled it at macDonnabhan’s heart.

‘For God’s sake, Princess, do you not recognize friends when you see them? I swore you help, and though it feels like a ceilidh is going on in my head, a macDonnabhan keeps his word.’

She poked Va in the ribs. ‘Put Akisi down. Now.’

‘But—’

‘No buts. It’s now or never.’

He slid him to the ground. Akisi’s eyes showed relief and gratitude, though only for a moment. Clearly expecting to be cut free, he squealed and kicked as two macDonnabhans picked him up as he was and rushed him away. Eoin macDonnabhan held up his hand to acknowledge the crowd and pushed Va and Elenya after Akisi’s retreating feet.

‘Go. Hurry. Did you not steal any horses? Horses would be better than a boat.’

‘We didn’t steal any horses,’ said Elenya.

‘And I thought the sons of Aeire were mad fools.’ He hurried them along. ‘We have to get you out of the town, then out of the king’s land.’

‘What about you?’

‘It’ll mean exile for us, which won’t be easy, but the clan macDonnabhan has favours owing in Ciarra.’ They reached the small port. Amongst the sunken masts of waterlogged boats there was a rowing boat, oars stowed across the seats.

Va, stumbling on beside Elenya, asked her: ‘What are they doing?’

‘They’re giving us a chance. I suggest we take it.’

Solomon Akisi was dumped in the bottom of the boat. It rocked alarmingly, and water sloshed in the bilge. Va clasped Eoin macDonnabhan to him like a brother, surprising himself more than the Aeireann. Then he stepped onto the seat and started fitting the oars in the rowlocks.

‘Goodbye, Princess,’ said macDonnabhan. ‘The world is wide and we may yet meet again. Perhaps then you’ll be able to give your heart to a man who’ll cherish it, rather than reject it.’ He looked askance at Va, who in his unintelligible tongue was already urging a clansman to untie the mooring rope.

Elenya held his steadying hand as she climbed into the bow. ‘Find comfort elsewhere, Eoin macDonnabhan. I’d make a poor wife for any man.’

‘You judge yourself harshly, Princess Elenya. May the road rise up to meet you, and the wind be always at your back.’

Va hauled on the oars, and they inched away from the dock. With his next stroke they moved further out. A wave caught the bow, making the boat bob up and down.

‘What was macDonnabhan saying?’ grunted Va. He pulled again, and slowly they headed out to sea. Lights moved through An Cobh: the tower was a ruddy beacon of flickering light, and smaller fires of torches and lanterns dashed about like bugs.

‘He was wishing us Godspeed.’ Elenya tapped the book on her lap. ‘And I was wishing him the same.’