CHAPTER TEN
Drekki was right. Ramarius returned later, scolded them for flying into the storm in the first place, laughed when Drekki told him he wanted to dare the Strait of Frozen Tears, then led them right towards it.
From then on, ice grew daily upon the ship. Accumulations of fog and vented steam layered a frigid lacquer on everything. Dawns were marked by the sound of axes shearing off the Aelsling’s coat, and the crash of it shattering on the deck. It was noisy work, hot, making the duardin sweat, which only made them colder when the activity ceased, and that had them cursing. Otherek and Kedren exerted their arts to melt the ice off the vessel, but in all but a few cases, where the meltwater could drain free, their efforts caused more problems than they solved, as the water refroze in places more difficult to reach.
Uzki witnessed the sights of the High Fifth with a growing sense of wonder. Every day he saw something amazing. Huge metaliths of gold-shot ice lurking in clouds of rainbow crystals. Giant birds of prey, twin-tailed and raucous, their feathers dusted with frost. Ice-whaleens, smaller and sleeker than their lower-air kin, who took turns in ramming islands with their tusks, for reasons Uzki could not fathom and none aboard could tell him. Most stupendous of all, the Aelsling flew past the shattered ruins of Dunvrekar, a great duardin city of ancient days, which, by some cosmic quirk, had roughly remained together, so its streets were paved with air, and each city block was a metalith floating in a maddening jumble. Strange lights glowed there. Threads of smoke rose from the interior. There were pale faces in the windows, Uzki was sure of it, but the city was too far away to see for certain.
Ramarius saw him looking and dipped down to fly level with the ship. The urchins Uzki had grown up with in Mhornar would never believe he was speaking with a dragon. It was hard not to believe he was dreaming.
‘Do not stare in the windows,’ said Ramarius. ‘They stare back.’ He flew on with a snap of leathery wings. ‘Look not at the city!’ he boomed to them all. ‘Keep a wide berth, Captain Flynt.’
Hrunki lay a hand on his shoulder, making the youngster jump.
‘Steady there, Uzki,’ she said.
‘You not calling me bald-chin no more?’
‘You saved my life. I ain’t never calling you bald-chin ever again. You’ve earned your whiskers, so far as it concerns me, and it don’t, because a duardin’s business is his own. Except when it comes to me helping you learn. If it’s all right with you, that is my business.’
Uzki nodded. ‘More than all right.’
‘Right then.’ She lifted up her wounded left arm in its sling, and Uzki got a glimpse of a canvas patch, freshly waxed, over the hole he’d poked in her flight suit. ‘You’re going to have to take on more of my duties today thanks to this.’
‘Sorry,’ said Uzki.
‘Don’t be. You saved my life. You don’t mind doing my chores?’
‘Gladly!’ said Uzki, buoyed up by the trust Hrunki showed him.
‘Good lad,’ she said. ‘Let’s get to work.’
‘First stop,’ Hrunki said, ‘we need to look in on our invalids.’ She beckoned him towards the interior.
‘Don’t you have a ship’s surgeon?’
‘We sort of did, though he had a lot of other jobs too. He turned traitor. Properly so. He was a bit of a wazzock, was Velunti, and he died for it. But I see why he got disgruntled. He had far too much to do. Healer’s me now. I’ve got a bit of lore in me.’
‘But you’re the gunner.’
‘If that was all I could do, I’d not be much use, even though I’m a better shot with a cannon than any of this lot. We all have to do a bit of everything.’
She stopped.
‘Look at him, that’s Adrimm, black-bearded whiner.’
Adrimm was chopping through a beard of icicles hanging off the port shrouds.
‘Moans all the time, but he’s a good shot, dependable in a fight, can helm halfway decently and makes a tasty harkraken stew. Then him, Kedren, not even Kharadron.’
Kedren was running his hands over some patching Bokko had installed the day before, making sure the panels were sound. Urdi was with him, carrying pots of grease and a portable welder.
‘He does rune magic, but gets machines too, for all he moans about them. He understands metal in ways that are, well, it’s magic. Urdi there with him, smart talker, big drinker. Bit of a ladies’ man too, more’s the mystery. Don’t ask him stories about that, you’re too young for them, but he can find out anything you need to know.’
‘Should I trust him?’ Uzki asked, confused. ‘I’ve seen the way the others are around him.’ Urdi kept his head down, silent, waiting patiently for Kedren to move on to the next repair. Or maybe he was waiting for forgiveness, Uzki thought. ‘What did he do?’
‘He took pay from a human lord to keep an eye on the captain.’
‘No!’
‘Don’t be hasty to judge. This is a hard life. Sometimes you take what fate offers. His mistake was you don’t go behind your shipmates’ backs, not ever. Do you understand? Trust is what binds us together. He broke that trust. It’ll take a while for him to win it back.’
They moved on. Gord thumped past, whistling. Uzki still hadn’t got used to the idea of an ogor arkanaut.
‘What about him?’ Uzki asked.
‘Gord? Even he brings more than muscle. He’s not as stupid as he looks. He’s a better reckoner than any when it comes to counting up shares of food or planning dinners.’ She chuckled. ‘Just never let him serve up one of his surprises, or you really will be surprised, and not in a good way. All of us have different skills. You need it on a small crew. Everyone has to pitch in, all of the time, in lots of different ways.’ She stopped and turned to face him. ‘So, lad, what are you going to contribute? What are you good at?’
Uzki looked at the arkanauts bustling about. He’d read the stories. He’d dreamed of this, but on board, he realised how inexperienced he was.
‘I… I… don’t know. I’m a good pickpocket.’ He gave a weak laugh. ‘Not much use up here.’
‘You’ll be good at something else. Let’s find out what it is,’ she said.
They went down below. It wasn’t much warmer. The walls ran with condensation, and there were spiderings of ice on the inside of the portholes. Hrunki took Uzki to the galley, where a pot of soup simmered on an aether ring. Even that small heat seemed heavenly after the punishing cold.
‘Two patients, two bowls of soup,’ said Hrunki. ‘Go on, fill them up.’
He did as he was told, and he followed Hrunki to the passenger cabin, where she paused, and put a finger to the lips of her helm.
‘Bokko is in there, sure as grots are green,’ she whispered.
‘The endrineer?’
‘Endrinrigger, lad. Don’t give him ideas above his station. Let’s knock. We don’t want to embarrass them.’ She sniggered.
‘What?’ said Uzki, not getting it.
‘You’ll see.’ She rapped hard on the door. ‘Lunchtime!’ she hollered, then opened the door quickly.
Khenna was on the bed, a pillow supporting her back, uncomfortable in her arkanaut’s suit. The air was too thin to breathe easily at those altitudes, and they were confined to their kit. It was cold in there too. The aether-heater was off to save fuel, and the single porthole was an opaque circle of frost. Bokko perched on a tiny stool in the narrow space between wall and bed.
The pair of them were flustered.
‘Not holding hands?’ Hrunki said slyly.
They looked more embarrassed.
‘Uzki, give Khenna her soup.’
Khenna took her helm off to eat; it was possible to breathe for short times without an air supply. She nodded gratefully. She was tired, very pale, dark rings under her eyes.
‘Tordis,’ Khenna said. ‘Can I have a word?’
‘Sure,’ said Hrunki.
‘Alone?’
‘Right.’ Hrunki prodded Bokko. ‘Outside.’
‘But…’
‘Go on,’ she said. ‘Out!’
Uzki and Bokko left the cabin.
Bokko hovered around the door with Uzki. The women were speaking inside, but they could not hear what was said.
Hrunki came out and shut the door.
‘Khenna says thanks so much for helping, but could you please leave her alone.’
Bokko slumped into himself.
‘Come on, don’t you have duties to perform?’
Bokko nodded, and moved away miserably.
‘Beard straight,’ Hrunki said. ‘She does like you. She just needs some peace. Don’t come on so strong. You hear? Khenna’s not some barak princess, she’s an arkanaut like you. She doesn’t need you fussing over her. You want her to fall for you, show some respect for her strength.’
‘She likes me?’ said Bokko, almost deliriously.
‘Didn’t you hear the rest of what I just said? Get out of here!’ Hrunki booted him in the backside. Bokko staggered off.
‘How come you can order him about? You’re an arkanaut,’ Uzki asked.
‘Main gunner, Uzki.’
‘He’s an endrinrigger! Riggers outrank gunners.’
‘Bah! He’s not that much older than you,’ said Hrunki, though that was a hefty exaggeration. ‘I’m on the trommraad. Oldbeard, I am.’
‘You don’t have a beard,’ Uzki said cheekily.
Hrunki laughed. ‘Ain’t that a fact,’ she said. ‘Don’t matter though. Seniority comes with age, beard or not.’
They went into the main crew quarters: a long, low room directly over the hold with two rows of neatly stowed air chests and snuzac[45] hooks down either side. It was tight in there when they were all asleep, but during the day, most of the snuzacs were folded in half neatly against the wall, although there were always a couple of duardin sleeping between shifts.
Uzki shuddered as he thought of Umherth’s snores, and remembered that the mad old bozdok was on the same watch as him that night, so he’d be getting the full horn symphony tomorrow.
It was empty but for Evrokk and Evtorr, down at the end of the room. Evtorr sat on his airchest, knees drawn up and arms wrapped around them, staring at shakily chalked runes on the deck. His brother hovered nervously over him.
‘Is he all right?’ Hrunki asked.
‘He doesn’t remember anything much,’ said Evrokk. Uzki caught a glimpse of haunted eyes through the helmet lenses. Evrokk shook his head slightly. ‘He’s my brother, and he can’t remember. I don’t understand, he was fine in the storm, he seemed back to normal, but today, this…’ Evrokk’s voice had such a quality of misery that Uzki was ashamed to be witnessing such private pain. Uzki was smart enough to see that Evrokk was grieving his brother a second time, and tormented by hope into the bargain.
‘You all right today, Evtorr?’ Hrunki asked softly.
Evtorr stayed silent.
‘What are you doing?’
Evtorr said nothing. His head moved slightly from rune to rune. He was muttering under his breath, inaudible words that echoed sinisterly in his helmet.
‘I think he’s trying to remember,’ said Evrokk. He sounded so anguished by hope Uzki had the powerful urge to leave and give them some privacy. Hrunki sensed his discomfort and rested her good hand on his shoulder.
‘Shipmates, remember?’ she said. ‘We’re all family here, Uzki. Evtorr’s your brother too.’
Uzki was still unsure. Evtorr was usually manic and weird. This was worse.
‘Can you get him to eat?’
‘I can try,’ said Evrokk. ‘Evtorr?’
Uzki held out the bowl of soup.
Evtorr looked at it and turned away.
‘I’ll take it,’ said Evrokk.
‘Make him eat it before it gets cold. Put the bowl back in the galley when you’re done, and wash it up!’ said Hrunki. Then more gently, ‘And make sure you get some sleep. You’re supposed to be off watch. You eat something too. Come on, Uzki.’
They left Evtorr to his runes. They made no sense to any of the others.
‘Will he get better?’
‘Maybe,’ said Hrunki. ‘Maybe not. But we’re here for him. Be there for them, and they’ll be there for you when you need it. Crew is family. Don’t forget that.’
They were opening the door back onto the deck when the ship’s bell rang twice, and Adrimm pointed and hollered.
‘Skybergs, dead ahead!’