The White City

20

As they moved inland, the trees grew sparse and stunted: less a majestic cathedral and more an abandoned waste ground. The river cut more deeply, embedding itself between high-sided banks, until it flowed fast and deep.

The land seemed to funnel itself towards a point in the distance, where slabs of rock reared up out of the valley floor and the river emerged from the high plateau above through a slit. They’d been walking towards it all morning, and they were close now.

Then, rather than the constant slow rise, there was a dip, just before the river-cut. At the bottom of that bowl of land, there were two jetties facing each other across a point where the water was briefly wide and slack. On the far side, Dalip could see a little square raft of split logs tethered to the pier, and beyond that a tiny shack with the thinnest of banners of blue smoke waving above it.

They were getting somewhere. Simeon did indeed know the way.

The river between the piers wasn’t so deep as to prove a particular problem, and the raft looked more of a courtesy than a necessity. At the end of their jetty was a bell on a post. Their captain had already decided that a dozen trips by raft to ferry his raiding party across would go against the spirit of their endeavours. He motioned for them to stay quiet, and enter the river in groups of five.

Because he was the captain, he was in the first group; and because Dalip was worried about Mary, he was too.

The water was cold and heavy. He could touch the bottom almost all the way across, his feet churning up the soft silt, the colour of the water downstream becoming milky. They emerged again just below the other jetty, using its uprights to assist their climb up the bank.

They crouched in the scrub, waiting for the others to cross. Simeon shook the water from his arbalest, and wound the string back using the cranks. The metal arms creaked slightly as they bowed, and the trigger mechanism clicked as it engaged.

Slowly and steadily, the other groups pulled themselves up and took up positions hidden behind bushes or clumps of wiry grass.

The inhabitant of the hut showed no sign of having spotted his unannounced visitors, and it became clear that Simeon wouldn’t make their presence known if he could avoid it. He crept forward to have clear sight◦– and clear aim◦– of the closed door, and indicated that each group should go on towards the sharp river-made scar in the wall of rock ahead.

None of them used the track which ran by the side of the shack, instead creeping through the undergrowth. If anyone had looked they would have been seen, especially Dalip in his orange overalls. They were, however, quiet. No one heard them, and the sounds of their passing were easily camouflaged by the low rumble of the river and the bright hiss of the wind in the leaves.

Simeon was the last to leave, his cocked arbalest ready to shoot as he skirted the structure. No one came out to investigate. They passed undiscovered.

The next obstacle was the narrow path that ran by the river as it pierced the rock wall. The straight-sided slice taken out of the plateau echoed with the sound of white water below, and the wind whipped through, blustering and making it feel far more dangerous than it really was: the path was flat and dry, and the long, snaking line of pirates only had to concentrate on where they were putting their feet to come out the other side.

The valley widened out into a long scar that followed the course of the river, and after the dim gorge, the acres of bare, pale rock were almost blindingly bright. Dalip moved up further to allow those behind him entrance. He crunched up the scree, shielding his eyes from the glare with one hand.

He blinked as the scene slowly resolved. There was a crowd of people a little way off, in amongst a series of what looked like half-buried cubes. Beyond them were more substantial buildings, and there were fields and a waterfall and other features, but his gaze was drawn hypnotically back towards the people.

There were at least two distinct types. One formed an outer perimeter, their pale faces at variance with the block-colour gaudiness of their robes. They seemed to be standing and silently watching as the grey-and-brown workers attempted to dismantle one of the cubes, shouting and swearing as they darted in and out to grab pieces of stone.

The stone, inexplicably, was fighting back, judging from the number of men clutching their bloodied hands.

Dalip drew close to Simeon, who was having equal difficulty understanding what was happening.

‘Are they mad? Are they taken with drink or poppy juice?’

‘I have absolutely no idea.’

The rest of the pirates filled the slopes, each gazing with wonder at the bizarre sight and the mean collection of buildings.

‘Is this supposed to be…?’ asked Dalip, He knew that the real White City was the overgrown ruins down by the sea. This place was a shadow of it, barely a conscious aping of the fallen grandeur.

‘Yes.’ Simeon knocked his hat further down over his eyes. ‘Not much to look at, is it?’

‘No. But if this is where Crows came, this is where we’re supposed to be.’ Dalip felt his fist instinctively tighten about his machete’s grip, because there was Crows, standing amongst the robed figures, his tattered black cloak all but a shadow.

He searched for Elena in the faces around him, wondering what she’d do, now that she wasn’t alone and unarmed, but instead had an army at her back.

He didn’t have to wonder. She was already running forward, sabre outstretched.

‘Crows! Crows, we have come for you!’

‘So much for keeping a tight ship,’ said Simeon. Rather than be left behind, he started after her, catching her up and then pulling ahead.

Dalip felt his legs move, despite his better judgement, or because of it, he couldn’t tell. But he was advancing too, and with him Dawson, the steersman, Sebastian, and everyone else: a loose, uncoordinated wave, washing towards the strange robed figures, their flighty, dancing servants, and Crows.

They were spotted, although it wasn’t as if they were trying to hide any longer. Crows saw several faces he knew and had never expected to see again. He was the first to back away, but certainly not the last. All of them began to withdraw, those wearing robes first, their men afterwards, moving away from the stone cube they’d been so intent on dismantling. They headed down the slope towards the road and the buildings.

Elena picked up her pace. So did they.

Then it became a chase, and rapidly a rout, as the pirates raised their weapons and roared and whooped and ululated. They ran them down the street, and those in robes with their immobile white faces peeled off, heading to one door or another, thinning the pack down by twos and threes.

Dalip caught up with Elena, hooked his hand around her arm and pulled her back. She tried to shake him off, but he refused to let go.

‘Crows,’ she said.

‘We’re too spread out. Simeon, tell her.’

‘Chased the dastards indoors, but unless we go house to house, dragging them out by their scruffs, there’s no further advantage in our current position. Singh◦– you and Dawson gather the troops up at the defile, seal this place up tight like a cork in a bottle. I’ll hold the fort here until an orderly retreat◦– unlike our advance◦– can be achieved.’

Simeon sounded the horn, and the chasing pack slowed and milled about, staring up at the high, blank walls and tiny, out-of-reach slitted windows.

‘Come on, you sea-dogs. Rally and regroup. If the cowards won’t stand and fight, we’ll have to stir them in their lairs.’

Elena growled, and directed her frustration at Dalip.

‘We could have caught him.’

‘We were nowhere near catching him. And we know he’s here, that’s the important thing.’

‘This cannot wait!’ She backed away from him. ‘He must pay.’

‘He will. Just not this very second.’

‘If he escapes—’

‘We’ll have to make sure he doesn’t. But there’s no magic here: he can’t use his crows or cover himself in darkness or anything like that.’

‘You know,’ she said, ‘that his lying heart is the most dangerous thing about him. He needs no magic for that.’

‘Elena, we’ve cornered him and he’s not getting away. Let’s do what Simeon says, and you’ll have all the help you need to catch Crows.’

Dawson, holding the horn, sounded it again and started the general retreat towards the scattered cube structures. Dalip obeyed, and when she realised that everyone else was following, so did Elena, stamping her feet, cursing loudly and swiping at the air with her sabre. Dalip stayed away, and so did the others. Even Sebastian walked behind her, out of range.

They gathered amongst the stone cubes, which weren’t solid, but hollow, with heavy slabs making the roofs, and lockable doors built into the downslope faces. Which was interesting, considering that the robed people and their minions had been trying to pick one apart.

Dalip tried to find which one it was. Up close, they all looked the same, and it was only by carefully comparing where he’d been standing earlier with what he could see now that he found it, further uphill and at the end of a row.

The ground around it was no different◦– the cliff wall spalled shards like shattered bricks, so none of the buildings had used dressed stone. Just that where the edges of the other structures were straight, this one was ragged. Dalip circled it at a respectful distance, and wondered what it contained.

The door, when he tried it, was locked fast. But such was the dry-stone construction that he thought he might be able to peer through the cracks to see inside. The instant he put his hand on the wall, he felt a sharp sting. He jerked away, and clenched his fist tight. A bright drop of blood squeezed out.

When he thought he could, he unrolled his fingers and inspected the wound. Something had punched a hole in the palm of his hand, and it was bleeding. The steersman saw him and went to inspect the structure himself. Dalip waved him back.

‘Careful.’ He held up his hand as proof of the danger.

‘What’s inside?’

‘Something sharp.’ Dalip clenched his fist again. ‘They seemed very keen on getting it out.’

‘I’ll tell the cap’n.’

Simeon came over and inspected the problem.

‘If it was important to them, it’s important to us. Get it open.’ He frowned at door. ‘Have you tried knocking?’

‘Do you think it’d help?’ asked Dalip.

‘If it’s some fell beast inside, no, and we can safely leave it where it is. If it’s a captive of theirs, then the poor soul can be released into our care. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and all that.’

He strode forward and, avoiding any of the open stonework, rapped his knuckles on the thick wooden door.

‘Ahoy in there. Are you man, or monster?’

‘Fuck off.’

Dalip’s eyes went wide. ‘Mary?’

‘You can fuck off too.’

‘You know her? You’re full of surprises, Singh. Winkle the good lady out, if you please.’

Dalip approached, still nursing his hand. ‘Mary? It’s Dalip. You can come out now.’

There was silence. Then: ‘Dalip? Are you sure?’

‘As sure as I can be.’

‘Tell me something only Dalip would know.’

‘I…’

‘Well, go on, man,’ urged Simeon.

‘Boots. You wanted me to take someone’s boots, but only if they were dead.’

‘Did you?’

He looked down at the Wolfman’s boots. ‘Yes. Yes I did.’

The lock turned with a heavy click, and the door creaked open a sliver.

‘Come where I can see you.’

He stepped to one side, and he could see Mary’s dark eye flicker in the darkness. She looked him up and down, and after a moment, emerged blinking into the light. She had a slim dagger in her hand.

‘Did I do that to you?’ she asked.

‘This?’ He held up his hand. ‘Yes.’

‘Sorry.’ She shook her head. ‘What the fuck are you even doing here?’

‘I could ask you the same thing, but with less swearing. You went after Crows. You didn’t come back.’ He felt himself grow short of breath. ‘We thought you were dead.’

‘I had to stay with the maps,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t come back without them.’

Simeon stepped between them. ‘As touching as this unexpected reunion might be, I hear the call of treasure. Madam, does Crows still have the maps?’

‘Who the fuck is this clown?’

‘This is the pirate captain who took us on board, looked after us, sailed us across the sea and just chased those robed weirdos away.’ Dalip went to wipe the sweat away from his face with his hand, and winced as he inadvertently smeared himself with blood. ‘What happened to you?’

‘The maps?’ repeated Simeon. ‘We have an aversion to the land, and wish to be about our business. That business being, stealing the maps, spitting Crows like a spatchcocked hen, thumbing my nose at the Lords of the White City, and valiantly running away.’

‘You want the maps?’

‘Indeed. No greater prize exists in all of Down. Again, I ask you: does Crows still have them?’ The captain fixed her with a hard stare.

‘If you want Crows, then you’ll have to dig him out. He’s somewhere down there.’ She pointed over the top of the scree slope at the compounds. ‘These places are built like castles. You’ll have your work cut out for you.’

‘Indeed we will. We are, however, dread pirates, and shirking is not in our vocabulary.’ He bowed low, sweeping his hat off for the grand gesture. ‘Your appearance is most timely, and we are, as ever, pleased to serve the cause of freedom in this captive land. Dawson? Rally the troops. We have work to do.’

The horn brought the raiding party to order, and they moved as a mass, heading across the rocky slope towards the road. Mary called out to Elena as she passed by, but the blank stare that met her shout confused her.

‘I thought… what’s with her? Isn’t she, you know, glad I’m not dead?’

‘It’s complicated. She thinks you conspired with Crows to steal the maps from us, and get Luiza killed.’

‘But I didn’t.’

‘She’s not really worried about the truth. Promise me you’ll stay away from her until we can sort this out. She’s grieving, and Down knows it.’ Dalip looked at his palm, which had almost stopped bleeding, and was beginning to really hurt. ‘I should go with them. I’m part of the crew now.’

‘Where’s Mama?’

‘Back at the boat. She’s not exactly a fighter.’

‘And you are?’

‘For the right cause.’

She looked behind her at the stone shelter, then back again at Dalip. ‘I’ve got the maps here, in this shelter.’

‘You’ve what?’

‘Shut up. Not so loud. I went through some seriously fucked-up shit to get them, and I’m not going to hand them to Captain whatever-his-face-is, am I?’

‘God give me strength,’ he groaned. ‘I’ve got to tell them.’

She grabbed hold of his arm. ‘You do not. We need to get these maps out of here, back into Down proper, and work out what the fuck is going on. The ones wearing the long dresses◦– I don’t think they’re even human.’

Dalip pointed his machete at the backs of the ship’s crew disappearing over the rise. ‘They saved us◦– me, Mama, Elena◦– after you vanished. I◦– we◦– owe them.’

‘You might, but I don’t. Listen to me. Crows told us a whole load of bullshit: if there are any answers here, we’ll never find them. He brought the maps to the White City to give them to the Lords and Ladies, and in return, he thinks he’s going to rule Down. We need to find out how that happens, and we’re not going to if I hand everything over to your captain. Come with me, now, while they’re busy looking for Crows.’

Now he was breathless for an entirely different reason. ‘Is this worth people dying for? Because that’s what’s going to happen.’ He shook his head. ‘No. It’s not worth it.’

He tore himself free and ran after Simeon, the loose rock slipping and sliding beneath his feet.