Part 2 (1/2)

Hurry, Rain, comes the voice again. There isn't much time . . .

I brace my arms to try and haul myself up. Roots rip. I scream. Drop. Stop. Breathe. Close my eyes. Open them. Slowly I twist in the air. I won't look down. I won't see shapes or hear voices in the mist. Absolutely not. I look up instead.

Above, all wrapped in roots, are more blocks of stone, cut into straight lines and right angles. There was once a wall here. A building. Set into a stone frame is a window of cracked, coloured gla.s.s. There's a pattern in the gla.s.s, perhaps a picture, but it's covered in snow that's scrunched into shapes like petals a” snow flowers. From where I'm hanging, it looks like a picture of someone with sun for hair.

People must have been here once. Did they fall and die too? I don't want to die, but I can't hold on any longer, I just can't! Where's Zoya when I need her? She's always been there for me, from my first day of being bullied at school, to this last day of my life when I got shoved out of my place in the canteen queue for breakfast.

*Somebody a” please a” somebody help me!'

A face looks over the rift edge and I nearly drop from the shock of it. Be careful what you wish for . . . A wolf is there, eyes bright, tongue out, panting. Its muzzle reaches low a” to eat my hand or pull on my sleeve? Gunshot cracks the silence. The air mists with blood and the wolf slumps, completely eyes-dark dead.

*Hey! h.e.l.lo? Rain Aranoza, are you there?'

A voice I know! Like a silver net it scoops me up. There's the dark-haired Scrutiner leaning over the edge of the rift to spy me out, sending snow specked with wolf-blood spattering down.

*I'm here a” down here!'

*Hold tight, I'll pull you up! Don't let go!'

He grips my sleeve. He's strong but still out of breath by the time I'm up out of the emptiness and sprawling on the snow at his side. Close by, the wolf corpse is slowly cooling, and beyond it are the stone blocks with the gla.s.s picture.

The boy studies me closely. That's Scrutiner training a” always watching for what's not supposed to be there. I laugh, a little too loudly.

*The ground disappeared.'

*It's the trees,' he says without a flicker of emotion. *They eat it. They grow down instead of up.'

I roll on my stomach, away from the rift edge and hungry trees. The boy rolls over too and that sort of makes him closer to me. The wide world shrinks to this patch of now. Time doesn't bother slowing. It doesn't even exist. The snow between us seems to clump into delicate crystal flowers a” tiny snow roses that grow then melt from our body heat.

I hear the boy's heart quicken. His cheeks take on a warmer tinge. I feel like I'm in one of Pedla's stories, all that Old Nation nonsense about G.o.ds, monsters and enchantment. I s.h.i.+ver at the intimacy.

*You're cold,' he says abruptly. He stands and brushes snow from his uniform so it's as smart as new again.

*I'm fine.' I get up too, suddenly wis.h.i.+ng I was older, taller and dazzlingly beautiful.

Nothing story-like about his reply. He's all common sense and science.

*You don't feel chilled now because you're fired with adrenaline. Without more layers your core body temperature will drop so quickly you'll hardly notice you're dying. Take this thermal wrap and these gloves, they're spare. Are you injured?'

*I'm OK.'

*Are you sure?'

Yes. Incredibly, against the odds, I am OK, though I feel strange, like the time Cousin Zoya said cherry brandy was completely harmless, so we sneaked some at Pedla Rue's and it made me see shapes in my head, and Zoya sicked up her lunch all the way down the stairwell as she tried to stagger home.

My mind widens. The spell breaks. Real life rushes in.

How could I forget Zoya? You don't ever, ever put yourself first, before others. Individuals don't count as much as community a” we learn that from the cradle. One of Many a” that's the motto we live and die by in Rodina. Loyalty, that's what binds our friends.h.i.+ps, our families, our Nation together.

This time when I run the forest flashes past a” snow, bare branches, black birds a” scant seconds only before I'm at the patch of ground where I left her. Is it the right place? I see a bright-red pool of blood in the snow, and bootprints all around.

Zoya's not there.

I'm so mad at myself I could rip trees up by the roots. I shouldn't have left her like that! Why do I always get things wrong? No wonder Papi gets that quiet, disappointed look whenever I speak. No wonder Mama reckons I'm not fit to be left alone ever. Be a good girl, she always says, even though I've never been anything but good all my life.

*Zoya's gone!' I shout the moment the boy catches up with me. *The Crux have got her!'

He examines the bootprints and shakes his head. *Don't worry, she's safe. My men will be helping her to our camp at the edge of the forest where we have medics. We need to get there as quickly as possible too. We do not want to be in the woods when night comes. Keep close behind me. Tread where I tread. Whatever you do, don't step off the path.'

Don't step off the path. Pedla Rue knew what she was talking about there. What about her First Rule? Be very careful who you meet . . .

The boy sets off. I don't move.

*Sorry, but there's no Aura and I don't know . . . what's your name?'

*I'm Reef. Reef Starzak. Now let's go. Try to keep up.' He gives a half-smile. *Judging by how fast you can run, that shouldn't be a problem.'

*Sorry. I was worried about Zoya.'

*You should be.'

*Because of the Crux? What are they even doing in the forest? Why did they attack us? Why can't we connect to Aura and find out what's going on?'

He stops and looks back. *You ask a lot of questions.'

I freeze. There's a saying in Rodina a” The weed that sprouts up gets yanked out. The best thing I can do now is keep quiet and be good.

*Sorry. It's not normal here.'

Reef's laughing at me now, I'm sure of it, behind that mask of a face. *You've noticed that?'

I notice everything. Every strand of colour in his eyes, every shade of blood under the soft skin of his lips.

A bird lands on a nearby branch. Reef grips his gun, making me think of the wolf on the rift edge, with life trickling out of bullet-holed fur.

*I got more than I expected on this hunting trip,' he says, staring down at me.

*You mean, finding Crux as well as wolves?'

*No. I came here hunting witches. Instead I found you.'

*There's no such thing as witches,' I say straight off.

*Of course not,' Reef replies. *Stories and fey-tales were the Old Nation way of making sense of things they didn't have the proper education to explain scientifically. We know better now. My job is to prove these things don't exist. It's the only way to stamp out superst.i.tions from Old Nation days.'

*Like people believing in witches?' It feels bad just saying such a word to a Scrutiner. I remember the night they came for Pedla Rue's husband, all because he kept going on and on about smelling witch-sweat in the stairwell.

Reef's eyes darken. *Exactly. Civilisation can't survive if imagination is allowed to run riot. Science can prove that wolves are just wild meat-eaters, for example, not fey-tale monsters. The trouble is, stories don't die easily. Despite all the education Aura's given us, people still insist on believing in things that can't possibly be true.'

Some emotion roughens his voice, but he's walking too fast for me to see his face. His legs are longer than mine and I have to leap to keep within his bootprints in the snow. My fingers twitch to access Aura for answers to all my questions. How do people even know things if they can't connect? I try to keep quiet by concentrating on counting the birds flying alongside the path.