Part 12 (1/2)

*Look. There's something.'

He craned past her, sending the wing wobbling from side to side. *Where?'

*There.' She pointed again. *See it?'

Their flight levelled out. He peered into the darkness, squinting but unable at first to make out any detail.

Then, at the very limit of his vision, he saw a light.

*Yes, got it now,' he said. *Any idea what it's coming from?'

*None at all. Want to check it out?'

*Uh -' The night was impenetrable in that direction, the Divide gaped wide, and the cold had seeped into his bones. Only the front of him, where Chu's body gave him protection, retained any heat at all.

He thought of his mother and what it must be like to be in the Divide at night, alone.

*Okay,' he said, *but we're not stopping unless we absolutely have to.'

*G.o.ddess, no. I may be reckless, but I'm not an idiot.'

He searched the sky for an appropriate stream. *Bring us up a bit, then across that way.' He indicated a heading slightly to the right of the light. *There's a nice strong current running through there.'

She glided them along the correct trajectory. He felt the stream grab them and pull them forward. Skender had never been swimming, but he had read about it in books. When writers talked about being swept up in powerful currents, he imagined it would feel something like this, with the pit of his stomach suddenly hollowing and all control wrested from him.

Chu sniffed. *I know this wind. It's called the Dark Bellows; it flows along the Divide from the mountains. Can you smell the trees?'

He took a lungful but could smell nothing but her. *It's good,' he said.

She sniffed again, tilting her head back until it b.u.mped his. *There's something else on the wind. A new stink. Man'kin, I think,' she mused. *They're out late.'

*I can't smell them. Could they be behind the light?'

*No. Look at our heading. The light isn't in the Divide, it's on the far side.'

He peered over his shoulder to get a fix on the city glow - now a less-than-brilliant haze far behind them. Looking forward again, he could see that she was absolutely right. The Divide floor was obviously a very long way beneath them. The light she had spotted was only just below their height.

*Where's the Aad?' he asked, worried they might be heading to Laure's ill-favoured, haunted half.

*To our left, a kilometre or two away.'

*You're sure?'

*Absolutely. The only thing out there,' she said, pointing directly ahead of them, *is dirt and scrub.'

*Not any more.' The light was faint but not an illusion; more yellow than a star and too fine to be a fire. As they flew closer, it resolved into two lights, not just one. They were s.p.a.ced evenly apart and seemed to be moving, rocking from side to side.

*What is that?' she asked. *Some sort of vehicle?'

*That's what it looks like.' Skender pictured a-buggy or truck bouncing across uneven ground with headlights on.

*Could it be your mother?'

He shook his head. *She travelled by camel. And even if she hadn't, how would she get up here?'

*There's an old road cut into the side of the Divide not far from here. It's steep but not impa.s.sable.'

He watched the lights moving nearer, curious about their origin. They probably belonged to an isolated traveller whose presence had nothing to do with him and his mission, but they still piqued his interest. Why would someone be driving so close to the Divide in the middle of the night? Where man'kin, dust devils and ghostlights walked, worse creatures no doubt followed.

They flew directly over the vehicle, too high up to make out any details but close enough to see that it was a buggy large enough for four people. An additional two sets of lights glimmered to the south: more vehicles out on a midnight journey.

Then the wing caught a rising gust from the edge of the Divide and they banked sharply around, losing forward momentum. Skender mentally kicked himself for neglecting his duties as wind-watcher. He reminded himself that staying aloft was much more important than the ident.i.ty of the people in the vehicle below.

*Take us left and down,' he said. *We can pick up speed and head back, if you want.'

*Getting tired?' she asked.

He didn't bother lying. *You better believe it. It's been a long day.'

*And we've got a longer one tomorrow.' She reached over her shoulder to pat his face. *All right. I'll take pity on you. Back we go for a nightcap, then some shut-eye.'

*A quick nightcap,' he said.

*Sure. That seems to be all you can handle.'

She chortled to herself as they glided silently over the buggy, far below.

The Father.

*Humanity is a fearful species. For every fear we know, it is said, there are a dozen monsters who prey on it - and all of them, at some point or other, have called the Divide home.'

THE BOOK OF TOWERS, EXEGESIS 17:7.

S.

hilly stirred in her sleep, dimly aware of the buggy bouncing over rough ground, its engine growling and rhythmic through the seat's thin cus.h.i.+oning. The dream had her in its grip and wouldn't let her go.

She was standing in a wide expanse of yellow sand, a vast basin that seemed perfectly flat at first, but was in fact rising up around her. She felt like a grain of wheat in a vast, empty silo. The sand began moving, s.h.i.+fting and tumbling as though blown by a breeze. The breeze grew steadily stronger, sweeping in circles like the currents of a w.i.l.l.y-w.i.l.l.y. Sand danced higher and higher, then rose in a funnel, getting in her eyes and nose. She felt the ground being sucked out from under her feet, giving her the impression that she was sinking. Blinking and coughing, she crouched down and put her arms over her head.

Then a clear s.p.a.ce opened around her. Thinking the maelstrom of sand had eased, she opened her eyes and peered out between her fingers. She huddled in the calm centre of the whirlwind, surrounded by rus.h.i.+ng sand. The funnel extended upwards in a sinuous cylinder, flexing and writhing as it vanished into darkness far above her head. She stood slowly, incrementally, ready to bunch up again if the vortex collapsed.

It didn't. The sand-laden wind hissed at her like a thousand snakes and kept its distance.

When she reached her full height, she realised that she wasn't standing on sand any more. Under her feet was stone as black as the summit of the storm. It felt rough and warm against her soles, fresh from the heart of a volcano. There were three lines carved on it, deep gouges she could have stuck her thumb into, had she a mind to. The lines formed a triangle as wide across as her outstretched arms. She stood in the exact centre.

The eye of the storm widened and the sand retreated with it. More lines appeared, forming interlocking symbols of fiendish complexity. The wind picked up in volume and lightning flashed overhead. Thunder boomed so loudly it hurt. She swung her head from side to side, trying to memorise the pattern hidden under the sand. To her left was a series of spirals that interwove and overlapped to form an eye-bending illusion full of sharp angles and multiple intersections; to her right an infinite variety of rectangles somehow combined to form circles and sweeping curves. She despaired, knowing she couldn't possibly hold all of that in her mind at once. She wasn't Skender. She needed more time!