The White City

21

As Mary watched him go, she remembered what Dalip had said, what seemed like an eternity ago. Whoever controlled the portals, controlled not just Down, but all of the Londons over all time. That was what Crows really wanted. And if the maps really did allow that, then whoever caught her first would win. Who would she rather see in control: a bunch of faceless monsters that Crows seemed happy to deal with, or a shipload of pirates that now inexplicably included Dalip, Mama and Elena?

There was really only one person she trusted, and that was always and only ever going to be herself. And even then, she wasn’t so sure.

Perhaps she could have gone after Dalip. She could have tried to bring him down and stop him, but he wasn’t the timid, skinny little thing he’d been before. She wanted him to come with her, and the maps, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen.

‘Fuck,’ she said, and retrieved the bag, holding it by its gathered neck. She stood at the entrance to the shelter and looked hurriedly around. Where could she go?

There were two ways out of the valley. Behind her, through the gorge, and ahead of her, across the river. The stepping stones and the path up the cliff were totally exposed. And the way through the narrow gorge was blocked, not just by the ferryman at the other end, but by a couple of lairy-looking pirates on guard at this.

There was nowhere in the valley she could hide, was there? All of the compounds were out: apparently that was where the Lords and Ladies lived, when they weren’t ripping their fake faces off. The shelters were, as she’d already proved, nothing but traps.

There was one building left that might offer her sanctuary: the dome-roofed circular structure. If it was some sort of church, then at least no one would attack her there, surely? It might be better than that, too. She could make a break for it, come nightfall. Even without magic to disguise her, she was good at sneaking.

The pirates would have to leave empty-handed once they’d flushed Crows out, and by the time the White City had reorganised itself, she’d be long gone, back into a place where magic worked. No Dalip, no Mama with her, but finding a place where a castle might grow wasn’t going to be difficult, not with all those maps. Down would provide. Wouldn’t it? The Red Queen would start on her own, but she wouldn’t stay that way for long.

She spent a second relocking the door behind her, and flinging the key wide and high so that no one would find it amongst the stones, then set off as fast as she could, arms windmilling to try and keep her balance, ignoring the taluses clawing at the soles of her feet.

She knew she was clutching at straws: here, where there was no magic, no sudden unexpected luck would fall in her favour. Despite that, she was still the sort of girl who’d leave herself open to one last let-down, just so she could tease herself with the thought that she was a worthless fuck-up who destroyed everything good in her life.

Dalip was just over the rise, telling his captain that she’d lied to them all, and the maps were right there. They’d be swarming back any moment to find her and force her to hand them over. Or run her through and prise them from her cold, dead hand.

She darted left, into the gap between the high walls of two opposing compounds, and stopped at the corner, opposite the round building. She had to cross the open space between the two, yet she could hear the pirates’ horn sound to signal yet another change in direction. She hung on to the wall, back pressed to the sharp stones, head tilted back towards the slit of sky. She was overlooked by the windows of the next compound down, and she thought she could see a flicker of movement behind one of them.

How long before the robed creatures regrouped and came after her as well? What if they decided to use force themselves, rather than rely on their servants? They’d outnumber the pirates then, and they certainly hadn’t revealed more than a fraction of what they were capable of.

She swallowed hard, and ran to the side of the domed building, flattening herself against it as if her red dress might disappear when turned sideways. She crept carefully around half of it, and there was no door.

The other half was exposed◦– no sheltering walls to hide her. The pirates had headed back towards her stone shelter. She could move another quarter of the circumference around.

Still no door.

If she stepped out any further, she’d be seen. It’d take them a little while to spot her, and a little longer to reach her. There was nothing for it but to show herself and hope.

She was almost back to where she’d started when the cry went up. Which would have still given her time, if there had actually been a door for her to open and bar behind her. There was nothing. The circular wall was as blank as the roof. No door, not even the hint of a door. No way in, no refuge.

That, it appeared, was the end of that idea.

She was out of viable options. Time to just pick something and do it. So she ran down to the road, turned left and along to the sharp bend, where the track met the ridiculous stepping stones and wound up the side of the valley. The noise of rushing and clattering told her that the pirates were behind her, and she didn’t need to look back to check.

She skipped off the road, her skirts flying. The Lords and Ladies were all watching her now, openly from their first-floor windows, every one of them seemingly crowded with faces. Could she use them? Dare she?

‘What are you waiting for? Come and get me!’

The slope speeded her up. She drew level with the building by the river as the door was just opening. Her path flattened, and the chasm the river rumbled through was right in front of her, the thin pillars of stone looking increasingly dangerous as she closed on them.

She couldn’t hesitate. She pushed off from the edge, hit the first square on, took the second one safely, and very nearly missed the third completely. Stumbling was out of the question. It was a long way down, and she was carrying the wealth of Down in one hand.

‘That’s quite far enough, young lady.’ It was Simeon.

She stopped, halfway across. The pillar she was on was wide enough for both feet, but not much more than that. She looked at the far shore: three more pillars to go. She could manage those. If she reached the bottom of the stairs, she could climb up to the top of the cliff, and back into the magic.

Tempting, but no. She shuffled around to confront the pirate band. Dagger in one hand, maps in the other, she held her arms out either side.

‘Anyone starts to cross, I jump. Got it?’

The captain lowered his loaded arbalest, the pointed bolt now aimed at the surging river far below her feet rather than at her heart. The whole crowd of pirates was gathering behind him. Some found themselves on the brink of the gorge, and pushed back, even as others were pressing forward to see what was happening. The captain leaned forward and looked askance at the drop, and the narrowness of the stepping stones.

‘We appear to be at somewhat of an impasse.’

‘If I knew what one was, okay. That.’

The captain leaned into the man next to him and muttered a brief instruction. The man disappeared into the crowd behind, to be replaced by Dalip.

‘Mary. What are you doing?’

‘I am trying,’ she said, ‘to do my best.’

‘You could come back over here and we could try together.’

‘Right now, standing on this stupidly thin piece of rock is the best I can do. Also, you’re surrounded.’

They were not quite surrounded, but it sounded dramatic. The figures in robes lurked at the back, their servants in front. The men had swords and clubs. They stood between the road and the river, blocking it and sending the pirate chosen for special duties by his captain back towards his own group.

‘Mary,’ said Dalip, ‘please be reasonable…’

‘I am being fucking reasonable. These maps don’t belong to you, and they don’t belong to them either. None of you made the fucking things◦– everybody who drew one, except me, was killed by the geomancers to protect their precious knowledge. I’m the only person here who can say any part of this is theirs. So, on behalf of all those poor fuckers who can’t speak because they’re dead, I claim the right to say what happens to them.’

‘Brave words, madam,’ said the captain, ‘possibly even true ones. However, I find that possession is nine-tenths of the law: once your property becomes mine, your rights over said chattel become moot.’

‘And if that means what I think it means, come and get it. Dare you.’

‘Very well. Never let it be said that I abrogated my responsibilities.’ He passed the crossbow to the nearest sailor, and drew his cutlass.

‘If you take one step I’ll throw myself in the river, and the maps are coming with me.’

‘I’m going to call your bluff. I think you’d rather I had them than lose them to the water. Did the dead labour in vain? We shall see.’

He started to size up his first jump when Dalip put his arm across the captain’s chest.

‘I’ll go.’

‘Captain’s privilege, Singh. Mine the risk, mine the reward.’

‘She’ll jump.’

‘She won’t.’

‘I bloody will.’

‘Stand back, Singh. I believe I have the advantage here.’

But before he could leap to the first stepping stone, a murmuring from behind him distracted him. Exasperated, he turned, and found himself face to mask with a red-robed figure.

‘You will not risk the maps.’

The captain lazily raised his sword, contemplated the edge, and pressed the point into the angle between carefully sculpted jaw and cloth-wrapped neck. The figure raised its head slightly to accommodate the intrusion, but made no attempt to back away.

‘You will not risk the maps,’ it repeated. ‘We can fight, or we can talk.’

‘Fight,’ said a pirate, and other voices immediately agreed.

‘Aye, we came to fight, not parley.’

‘Loot their houses, and head for the sea.’

‘Fight them. Ain’t so many that we can’t take ’em.’

‘So say my crew,’ said the captain. He added a little more pressure. The point grated against something hard. ‘You do bleed, don’t you? Are you men or monsters beneath your disguises?’

‘We are monsters far worse than anything Down can imagine.’

Mary seriously considered running away. No one was looking at her. It wasn’t as if the Lords and Ladies of the White City would let the pirates chase after her: neither were the pirates going to stand back and allow the robed figures to pass. This was what she wanted. This was why she’d lied. She, and only she, should determine the fate of the maps. Not these robed clowns. Nor this motley crew. She looked up at the cliff and judged her next jump.

There would be a bloodbath, though, and the survivors would hunt her down to her dying day. Worse still, Dalip would be in the middle of it all, and if he survived, he’d turn against her. That… would be difficult. She wanted a friend. She wanted him as a friend.

She had the power to decide, one way or the other. She gritted her teeth and turned back around.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you people? Seriously, just talk to each other. We might even learn something useful. You in the robe? What makes the maps so important?’

The figure slowly reached up and curled a hand around the cutlass blade. Their grip was such that the sword sank into the narrow bridge of flesh between fingers and thumb, and pink liquid started to run towards the hilt. The captain tried to resist, but the point inexorably moved away from the figure’s exposed throat.

With one last little shove, the captain staggered back, red-faced, and was caught by Dalip before he pitched over the edge of the ravine.

‘The maps represent our work. Sooner or later, we knew they would all come to us. We had expected them one by one, or a few at a time. Not, as has apparently happened, all at once.’

‘So… what? The geomancers are working for you?’

‘As a tree works for a gardener. The tree neither knows nor cares about the fate of its fruit, whether it is eaten by birds, falls to the ground to rot, or is harvested by the owner. So are those you call geomancers to us. They bear the fruit. We harvest it.’ The robed figure turned to address her directly. ‘That is our harvest. It belongs to us.’

‘But,’ she said, ‘you know what bastards they all are.’

‘We planted the seeds in the minds of the first geomancers: do this and you will control Down, we said. They went forth and the seed grew until it became a tree, a tree that would multiply and cover the face of Down. Now, the harvest is gathered in. You hold it in your hand.’

She felt sick. She swallowed against the bile rising in her throat.

‘So what do you want them for?’

‘You would not understand.’

‘Are you calling me stupid?’

The figure’s impassive white mask tilted with its head. ‘Let me rephrase. You may have some degree of agency, but you are not in full command of the facts. This leads you to behave in a sub-optimal way.’

‘You’re still calling me stupid, right?’

‘If you understood, you would hand the maps to me without hesitation. You would know you had no alternative.’

There was now a little semicircular space around the figure. The pirates had backed off slightly, wary of this strange creature which ignored gaping wounds in its hand and was far stronger than any normal man. Dalip stepped into that gap and walked slowly around it.

‘Why don’t you make us understand, then? Go on. They say out there, that if we get enough maps together, we can control the portals, and maybe go back home. Is that right?’

‘The truth is beyond your comprehension. Any of you. I cannot explain it simply enough, and your minds are too weak to grasp the complexity of the answer.’

‘Try. Or is your own understanding flawed? Do you really know what’s going on, or has Down changed the rules for you?’

‘You ignorant savage. You dare argue with me?’

‘You’re the reason Down’s been corrupted. You created the geomancers. You’re the reason I had to fight for my life in a pit. So yes, I dare. I dare a whole lot more than just argue. Your influence◦– your contamination◦– over Down has to end.’ He raised his machete, ready to strike.

‘Dalip, don’t. Don’t take it on. Swords won’t hurt it.’

‘Is that so?’ He carried on circling the figure, and the figure kept turning to face him.

‘They gave me this dagger to make me feel safer. Work it out.’

The white mask fixed Mary with its impenetrable stare.

‘Enough. Give me the maps and you may go.’

With a tremendous and sudden charge, Dalip rammed the figure from behind. It almost wasn’t enough, and it was almost too much. It spent what seemed like an age tipped over too far for recovery and yet still not falling. Dalip was dragged back at the last moment by the captain or he would have preceded the fluttering robes into the white-flecked river below.

Mary watched it fall, all the way down, until it splashed down and the water covered it. She thought it would emerge a moment later, spluttering and coughing, but that time stretched and eventually snapped. It wasn’t going to resurface.

‘Fuck, Dalip. What have you done?’

The servants of the White City took a belated step forward, and the pirates formed a line to face them. Neither side was certain of what to do next.

‘They’ll never tell us what we need to know now.’

‘They never were. Because if we knew, we’d stop them.’

She was running out of steam. ‘Stop them from doing what?’

‘I don’t know! But given the way they’re going about it, I don’t think I’m going to like the result, and neither are you. We simply don’t count in whatever it is that they have planned. We’re never going to make them care◦– you heard it◦– so we have to work this out by ourselves, for ourselves. This is where it happens, though,’ said Dalip. ‘Nowhere else. This is where it gets done.’

Mary looked at where she was, balanced on a pillar of rock high above a fast-flowing river, both hands full.

Simeon peered down into the river, where there was still no sign of the robed figure. ‘I may have been hasty, good lady. You have my word, as a captain, that if you were to return to us, the maps will remain your property, to do with as you see fit. All I ask in return is no more lies. It seems they are altogether more dangerous and more deadly here than in the rest of Down.’

‘Okay,’ she said, and nodded. ‘You are a pirate captain, though, right?’

‘As I informed young Singh here, we’re the good kind of pirates. My word is my bond. Besides,’ he added, ‘I think you’ll find throwing your lot in with us is slightly more appealing, now we know they’re not human. Remain where you are, while we chase them off the streets again. We’ll consider our options after that. Singh? See that no one gets past you.’

He retrieved his hat, set it on his head, and moved through the pirates until he was at the front. He kept walking, and they followed with a shout. The crew met the servants with the ringing of metal and the cracking of skulls. And still the Lords of the White City declined to act, even as they saw their men get cut down, one by one, by the far more accomplished pirates.

‘Dalip? Dalip, what are they? You know, don’t you?’

He was watching the second rout of the White City that day, but he dragged his attention back to Mary.

‘I think◦– and it’s only a guess, but I’m reasonably sure◦– that they’re from the future.’

‘Our future?’

‘A long time in our future. They look at us and they see savages.’ He snorted.

‘You killed one of them.’

‘I don’t think they die that easily.’ He shook his head. ‘Not savages. I don’t know: bees. We do all the work, we live and we scavenge and we die, then they take all the honey.’

She sighed, and let her arms fall by her side. ‘That… didn’t go as I expected.’

‘I think we just have to get used to the surprises.’