Authors: Cat Weatherill
And then it began. Effortlessly, painlessly, miraculously, a new foot emerged from the stump of the old. Snowbone saw it
happen,
felt
it happen, but still couldn't believe it. A new foot? In less than a minute? She tried wriggling her toes. They worked. Everything was perfect. Just perfect.
Help us.
The voices! Snowbone suddenly remembered what was happening. She pulled on her boot, scrambled to her feet and started running. Past Blackeye, unconscious by the cabin. Past Two Teeth, sprawled in the mud. Past Mouse, wide-eyed, wandering, covered in blood. Past the well, round the back of the bunkhouse, through the long grass and—
ssssoop
!—a wire noose tightened around her ankle and she was thrown high into the air. She bounced once, twice, savagely, then found herself upside down, high aboveground, dangling on the wire like a yo-yo.
The cries were louder now. Snowbone jerked until the wire turned and she could see the camp again. Beyond the bunk-house stood the slaver woman, her long hair streaming like lava. In her hands she held a bucket. She was splashing liquid onto the ground. No, not the ground. There was a pit, though Snowbone couldn't see into it.
The woman threw the bucket aside and walked over to the bunkhouse. She drew out a burning piece of timber, returned to the pit and looked down. Then she smiled, said something and tossed in the timber.
The cries became screams as the pit erupted into flames. Snowbone stared in horror. There was nothing she could do.
The woman raised a hand in greeting—the black-haired man and the blue-eyed lad were approaching. The lad looked badly hurt. He was muttering, stumbling, his face contorted with pain. But the man was unharmed. He began a conversation
with the woman. Snowbone writhed in anger. Heartrending screams were rising from the pit beside them, but they were chatting like friends at a picnic.
“Ancients!” she cried. “Where are you now? Help us!
Help us!
Do you not see this happening? Will you not do something?”
And then, to Snowbone's astonishment, something did happen.
Pfooow!
A single gunshot cut through the hazy air— and the black-haired man slumped to the ground.
Pfooow!
A second shot—and the blue-eyed lad clutched his chest, staggered and fell backwards into the burning pit.
And as the gunman appeared through a veil of smoke, the woman, panicking, turned and ran across the camp to a paddock. There she leaped upon a horn horse, jumped the fence and thundered off into the wildwood.
But Snowbone, watching from the wire, knew the battle wasn't over yet. No matter how fast that horse could run, the gunman could run faster.
“Manu!” she cried. “Follow her!”
And Manu threw down his gun and started running.
anu ran faster than he had ever run in his life, out of the woods and onto the downs beyond. He could outrun a horn horse, he knew he could, but not today. Not after the fighting he'd done back at the camp. Not when the horse had such a head start. It had disappeared already, dropping down below the hilly ground.
Manu pumped harder with his arms. Faster, faster he went, following the chalky track until he saw the horse again. The woman was low in the saddle, her hair streaming out behind her. She was heading for Spittel Point.
But strangely, when she reached the road that led down into town, she didn't take it. Instead, she urged her horse over the headland. And it was here that she glanced back over her shoulder and saw Manu sprinting behind her. She spurred the horse on. Its blue hoofs raised a cloud of dust behind it like a legion of ghosts.
Suddenly she turned left, and Manu realized she was heading for the airfield. Sure enough, when he turned he could see
her way below, galloping toward one of the flying machines. When she reached it, she leaped out of the saddle and ran up the boarding ramp.
Manu pushed himself so hard, he thought he was going to die. “I've got to catch her,” he told himself, over and over and over and over again. “I've got to catch her!”
He skidded round the end of a fence and ran onto the airfield. He ducked under mooring lines, darted round machines, searching, searching for the woman. From above, everything had looked so orderly. Now he was here, it was a maze. Manu raced on and—
oof!
—he slammed into the abandoned horse. It was wild-eyed, shivering, black with sweat. Manu knew how it felt. He pushed it aside and sped on, desperate now—he could hear the sound of an engine firing. A heavy thud as the boarding ramp was discarded. And suddenly the air was roaring around him. The mooring lines were humming like hornets. Everything was rattling, including his teeth. And Manu threw himself to the ground just as the flying machine soared into the sky above him and accelerated away.
Manu lay in the dust and cursed. What could he tell Snow-bone now?
He staggered to his feet and shook the chalk dust from his clothes. Now that the running was over, his body was beginning to ache. He felt he'd been kicked all over. And he had to get back to the camp somehow. Perhaps he could ride the horn horse? No. It had done enough for one day. He would walk.
The dust clouds were settling. Manu looked around, momentarily interested. He had seen flying machines before, but never so close. Then he noticed a boy dragging something across the turf.
Manu walked toward him and saw a strip of clear ground with a circle of mooring rings set into it. The boy was heaving the boarding ramp clear.
“That machine,” said Manu. “Where was it going?”
The boy stopped what he was doing and tapped the side of his nose. “That ‘ud be tellin’,” he said.
“Then tell,” said Manu.
“Nope!” said the boy. He grinned and Manu saw two rows of rotting teeth. “Star sailors have secrets!”
“You're no star sailor,” said Manu. “You're just a lackey. You clear the mess they leave behind.”
The terrible grin crumbled. For a second, Manu thought the boy might cry, but he didn't. He sulked.
“Tell me,” said Manu.
“Won't.”
“Give me strength,” muttered Manu. It was like talking to a toddler. “Tell me, where was it going?”
The boy shook his head defiantly.
Manu grabbed hold of him by his elbows. “Where was it going?”
Nothing.
“Where was it going?
If you don't tell me, I swear I will tie you to a mooring ring and the next machine in can land on your fat head.”
The boy's eyes widened in horror.
Manu threw him aside and walked away. “You don't even know.”
“Do.”
Manu carried on walking.
“Do!”
shouted the boy after him.
“Do!
I overheard them!”
Manu paused. “Then tell me! Or I won't believe you.”
The boy wavered. He wanted to be believed so much.
“Where?”
The boy tried to decide what to do. He flopped his head sideways. Screwed up his face. Stuck out his tongue. Then he began to smile.
“Farrago!” he said proudly. “It's going to Farrago!”
nowbone was sitting outside the barn when Manu arrived. “So?” she said. “What news?”
“I didn't catch her,” said Manu. He sat down heavily. “She escaped in a flying machine. But I know where she's going— Farrago.”
Snowbone frowned. “We have to follow her,” she said darkly.
Manu nodded. “What happened to you? Last time I saw you, you were dangling from a tree.”
“Figgis got me down,” said Snowbone. “Then I sent Two Teeth to find a wagon. We needed one to bring our injured back here.”
“How did we do?”
“Badly. Of the thirty we began with, twelve are dead, burned. Ten are … Oh, I don't know what they are! They're alive, but they're not right. Figgis thinks they're moving on.”
“moving on?” said Manu. “At their age?”
“It's possible,” said Snowbone. “They were badly wounded.
The wounds have healed but Figgis reckons it's the shock. They're withdrawing into themselves.”
“What about the rest?”
“Tigermane and Fudge came off best,” said Snowbone. “They were caught in a tree net early on. Blackeye was felled, but he's OK now.”
“Mouse?”
“Ah, Mouse,” said Snowbone. “She's here, but … She got blood on her hands, see? During the raid. She washed it away, but she reckons the stains are still there. So she keeps washing her hands, over and over again. She's obsessed. And she's talking to herself all the time. She's in the barn now with Blackeye.”
“And the slavers?”
Snowbone shrugged. “I didn't bother checking. I wanted to get our people out of there.”
Manu leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He'd heard enough.
But Snowbone went on. “Two Teeth found one wagon loaded with ashen sap. Figgis reckons That Woman is responsible for the murder of
hundreds
of Ancestors. Can you believe that? We've decided the sap should go to Butterbur. She might be able to use it.”
“What's the plan?” said Manu, looking at her again.
“Well,” said Snowbone wearily, “the injured ones will be staying here. I don't want to leave them, but there's nothing else I can do if they're moving on.”
She rubbed her forehead, trying to ease her growing headache. “We've stood them in a group behind the barn. I made sure they had a view of the sea.”
“That's nice,” said Manu.
“Mm. I would like it,” said Snowbone.
She fell silent. Manu didn't press her; she was clearly deep in thought.
“I shouldn't have lost them,” she said suddenly. “Their lives had only just begun. They were precious. I wasted them.”
“Don't think like that,” said Manu. “It'll drive you mad. You were the leader; they chose to follow you. They knew the risk.”
“Did they?”
“Of course they did! They weren't stupid. You have to remember: it's not easy being a leader. Bad things happen even when you make the best of plans. I was taught that. They told me, over and over again: ‘there will be losses. A leader simply has to decide how much loss is acceptable.’”
Snowbone didn't reply. Manu waited. Eventually she yawned, stretched and changed the subject.
“Two Teeth and Fudge will be taking the sap wagon to Butter-bur's house,” she said. “As for the others, well, after what's happened, I can only speak for myself. But I want to go on. I'll go to the airfield and find a machine to take me to Farrago.”
“Is that wise?” said Manu. “Ashenpeakers are slaves over there. You could be captured and sold.”
“I don't think so,” said Snowbone. “There was a boy I met once. Barkbelly. He told me a bit about the slave trade, and he reckoned the slavers deal in eggs. They're easier to handle, he said. They don't fight back.”
“It's still risky,” said Manu.
“It's a risk I'm prepared to take.”
“I'd like to come with you,” said Manu.
Snowbone looked at him in surprise. “Would you? Well, that makes two.”
“Three.”
Figgis had come out of the barn.
“Do you remember what I told you back in the forest?” he said. “ ‘To the last breath in my body, I will fight for my family.’ That's what I said. Well,
you
are my family now. You, Manu, Mouse and the rest. And the others we've lost—they were my family too. And I swear, I will have my revenge for this day.”