Sapphique - Incarceron 02 Page 10

  The firelock was snatched from her. Keiro yelled, 'Keep it still!' but the horse tossed its head in fear, its hooves clattering and sliding down the frozen slabs.

  The Chain-gang was struggling, half in meltwater. Some of its bodies lay under the others, its chains of sinew and skin iced with frost.

  Keiro raised the weapon.

  'NO!'Attia breathed. 'We can get away.' And then, when he didn't lower it, 'They were men once!'

  'If they remember they'll thank me.' Keiro's voice was grim.

  The blast scorched them. He fired three, four, five times, coldly and efficiently, until the weapon sputtered and coughed and was useless. Then he threw it down into the charred crater.

  Attia's hands were sore on the leather reins.

  She fought the horse to a standstill.

  In the eerie silence the faintest whisper of wind crusted the snow. She could not look down at the dead men; instead she gazed up at the distant roof and felt a shiver of wonder, because for a moment she thought she saw thousands of tiny points of shimmering light in that black firmament, as if the stars that Finn had told her of were there.

  Keiro said, 'Let's get out of this hell-hole.' 'How?' she muttered.

  The tundra was a web of crevasses. Under the broken ice water was rising, an ocean of metallic grey. And the glistening specks were not stars, they were the outlying skeins of a silver fog, slowly circling down from Incarceron's heights.

  The fog came down into their faces. It said, You should not have killed my creatures, halfman.

  Claudia stared at the huge central stalk of the feather, the great blue barbs linked stiffly with each other. Carefully she reached out and touched the fluffy plumes at the end. The feather was identical with the tiny one Jared had picked up from the lawn. But gross, swollen. Wholly wrong. Amazed, she whispered, 'What does it mean?'

  An amused voice answered her. 'It means, my dear, that I am returning your little gift.'

  For a moment she couldn't move. Then she said, 'Father?'

  Finn took her arm and turned her. She saw, appearing on the screen very slowly, pixel by pixel, the image of a man. As the picture completed itself she recognized him, the severity of his dark coat, the brushed perfection of his hair, tied elegantly back. The Warden of Incarceron, the man she still thought of as her father, was looking down at her.

  'Can you see me?' she gasped.

  There it was. His old, cold smile.

  'Of course I can see you, Claudia. I think you would be surprised what I can see His grey eyes turned to Jared. 'Master Sapient, I congratulate you. I had thought the damage I had done to the Portal would be enough. It seems, as ever, that I underestimated you.'

  Claudia linked her hands in front of her. She straightened up, the way she always stood rigidly upright before him, as if she was a small child again, as if his clear gaze diminished her.

  'I return the materials of your experiment: the Warden said drily. 'As you can see, the problems of scale remain. I would advise you strongly, Jared, not to send anything living through the Portal. The results might be fatal to all of us.'

  Jared frowned. 'But the feathers arrived there?' The Warden smiled and did not answer.

  Claudia couldn't wait any longer. The words burst out of her. 'Are you really in Incarceron?'

  'Where else?'

  'But where is it? You never told us!'

  A flicker of surprise crossed his face. He leant back, and she saw he was in some dark place, because a glimmer like flamelight reflected briefly in his eyes. A soft pulsing sound came from somewhere in the darkness. 'Didn't I? Well I'm afraid, Claudia, that you must ask your precious tutor about

  that.'

  She glanced at Jared. He seemed embarrassed, not meeting her eyes.

  'Can you really not have told her, Master?'The mockery in her father's voice was clear. 'And I thought you had no secrets in your little partnership. Well, it seems you should be careful, Claudia. Power corrupts all men. Even Sapienti.'

  'Power?' she snapped.

  His hands opened elegantly but before she could demand more Finn elbowed her aside.

  'Where's Keiro? What's happening to him?'

  The Warden said coldly, 'How should I know?'

  'When you were Blaize you had a tower full of books! The Prison's records of everyone.You could find him. .

  'Do you really care?' The Warden leant forward. 'Well, then I'll tell you. At this moment he is fighting for his life with a monstrous creature of many heads'

  Catching Finn's shocked stillness he laughed. 'And you're not there to watch his back. That must hurt. But this is where he belongs. This is Keiro's world, without friendship, without love. And you, Prisoner, belong here too.'

  The screen flickered and spat.

  'Father. . .' Claudia said quickly.

  'So you still call me that?'

  'What else can I call you?' She stepped forward. 'You're the only father I know.'

  For a moment he gazed at her, and she noticed in the disintegrating image that his hair was a little greyer than it had been, his face more lined. Then he said quietly, 'I am a Prisoner too now, Claudia.'

  'You can Escape. You have the Keys...'

  'Had.' He shrugged. 'Incarceron has taken them

  The image was rippling. Desperately she said, 'But why?'

  'The Prison is consumed with desire. Sapphique began it, because when he wore the Glove he and the Prison became one mind. He infected it.'

  'With a disease?'

  'A desire. And desire can be a disease, Claudia: He was watching her, his face shivering and dissolving and reforming. 'You are to blame too, for describing it all so well. And so Incarceron burns with longing. For all its thousand eyes there is one thing it has never seen, and it will do anything to see.

  'What?' she breathed, already knowing. 'Outside,' he whispered.

  For a moment no one spoke. Then Finn leant forward. 'What about me? Am I Giles? Did you put me in the Prison? Tell me!'

  The Warden smiled at him.

  Then the screen went blank.

  12

  There is a growing terror in speaking with the Prison. My secrets seem small and pitiful. My dreams seem foolish. I begin to fear it can see even into my mind.

  LORD CALLISTON's DIARY

  The fog slid between them. It was icy A mist of millions of droplets. Attia felt it chill her skin, condense on her lips. Remember me, Attia? it whispered.

  She scowled. 'I remember.'

  'Ride,' Keiro muttered.

  She urged the horse on, gently. But it slithered and the ground tilted, and she knew Incarceron had them trapped here, because the temperature was rising fast and the whole Wing was melting around them.

  Keiro must have felt it too. He snapped, 'Leave us alone. Go and torture some other Inmates.'

  I know you, hafman. The voice was close, in their ears, against their cheeks. You are part of me, my atoms beat in your heart, itch in your skin. I should kill you now. I should melt the ice and let you drown here.

  Suddenly Attia slid down from the horse. She stared up into the grey night. 'But you won't. You've been watching me all the time. You wrote that message on the wall!' That I would see the stars? Yes, I used the fool's hand. Because I will see them, Attia, and you will help me.

  Light was gathering. It showed her that through the fog two great red Eyes were being lowered on cables. They gleamed like rubies, one so close to Keiro its hot glare scorched him. He slid down hastily, close behind her.

  I have spent centuries longing to Escape, but who can escape themselves? The Warden tries to tell me it won't work, but my plan had only one flaw and you have solved that.

  'What do you mean, the Warden?' Keiro snapped. 'He's out there with his precious daughter and her Prince.'

  The Prison laughed. Its amusement was a rumble that split the ice; floes splashed into the rising sea of meltwater. The berg they were standing on tipped; lumps fell from its edge.

  The fog opened a cavernous mouth. I s
ee you don't know. The Warden is Inside now, and for ever, because both the Keys are mine. I have used their energy to build my body.

  The ice was unsteady. Attia grabbed the horse. 'Your body?' she whispered.

  In which I will Escape. Keiro said, 'That's not possible .'

  They both knew somehow that they had to keep it

  talking, that one whim of the Prison's fickle cruelty could tip them into the icy water, that it could open ducts that would sweep them away, deep into the endless drains and tunnels of its metaffic heart.

  You would say that. Incarceron's voice was rich with contempt. You who cannot leave here because of your imperfections. But Sapphique's dream of the stars is mine now, and there is a way. A secret way, a way no one expects. I am building myself a body. Like a man c but greater, a winged creature. It will be tall and beautiful and perfect. Its eyes will be of emerald and it will walk and run and fly and in it I will put all my personality and power and leave the Prison an empty shell. You have the final piece that I need to complete it.

  'Do we?'

  You know you do. I have sought my son's lost Glove for centuries; it has been kept secret, even from me. It laughed, amused. But now that fool Rix has found it. And you have it here.

  Keiro gave Attia a stare of alarm. The ice platform was floating now, and on each side the fog swirled so thickly they could see nothing of the tundra. She felt that the Prison had indeed swallowed them, that they were travelling deep inside its vast belly, like the man in the whale in Rix's patchbook.

  Rix. His words flared in her memory The Art Magicke is the art of illusion. Waves lifted under the thinning ice. Far off in the fog she saw the links of a vast chain, hanging down. They were being washed towards it. Rapidly she said, 'You want it?' It will be my right hand.

  Keiro's eyes were blue and bright. She saw at once what he was planning. He said, 'You'll never get it.'

  My son, I could kill you now and take it.

  The Glove was in Keiro's hands. 'Not before I put it on. Not before I know everything about you.' No.

  'Watch me.'

  NO! Lightning flickered. The fog poured in, over the horse, hiding them from each other. Attia gripped Keiro's elbow, felt his heat through the coat.

  'Perhaps it's time we made a few conditions then.' Keiro was invisible but his voice was steely. 'I have the Glove. I could wear it. I could tear it apart in seconds. But if you want it, I could bring it to you.'

  The Prison was silent.

  She felt Keiro shrug. 'It's up to you. It seems to me this is the only thing in this Hell you can't control. The Glove was Sapphique's. It has strange power. Spare our lives and show us the way, and it's yours. Otherwise I put it on. And what will that make me?'

  She could see him now. The fog retreated, drew back. In a moment of horror she realized that they were alone on a berg of ice in a wide sea of water, a greasy metallic ocean. It stretched as far as she could see in every direction, and the two Eyes of the Prison slid into it and stared up at her thoughtfully through its slow, turgid ripples.

  Your arrogance is surprising

  'I've had a lot of practice,' Keiro said.

  You cannot know what the Glove does.

  'You don't know what I know.' He stared down, defiant. 'There are no little red Eyes in my brain, tyrant.'

  Lights came on. High in the roof Attia glimpsed walkways and suspended roads, a whole Wing miles above them, where tiny dots that must be people clustered and looked down.

  Ah but what if there are, halfman? What if I see even there?

  Keiro laughed. It was hollow, but if the Prison had just named his own darkest dread he covered it well. 'You don't scare me. Men made you, men can unmake you.'

  Indeed. The voice was dry and angry. Then very well, we will make a deal. Bring me the Glove and I will reward you with Escape. But should you ever attempt to put it on I will burn you and it to a cinder. I will have no rivals.

  The chain hung before them. It was huge and heavy and it fell into the sea with a splash, the molten water sending up a thick spray that Attia could taste on her lips. As the metal rattled down they saw that a transitway was hauled behind it, a track that unrolled on the sea's heaving surface, vanishing into the remnants of mist.

  Keiro hauled himself back on to the horse, but before he could ride Attia said, 'Don't even think about leaving me here.'

  'I don't need you. I've got the Glove now'

  'You need an oathbrother.'

  'I've got one of those, too.'

  'Yes,' she said sourly. 'But he's busy.'

  Keiro stared down at her. His hair was long and damp; it gleamed in the light. His eyes were cold and calculating; for a moment she knew he would ride away. And then he leant down and hauled her up.

  'Only till I find someone better.' he said.

  The Queen held a State dinner that evening in the Claimants' honour.

  As Claudia sat at the long table licking the last traces of lemon syllabub from her spoon she thought of her father. Seeing him had shaken her. He had looked thinner, his contempt less assured. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about what he'd said. But surely Incarceron, the very intelligence the Sapienti had created, could never leave the Prison, because if it did all that would be left would be a dark shell of metal. Millions of Prisoners would die, without light, air, food. It had to be impossible.

  Trying not to think of it she watched Finn anxiously through the candles and wax fruit and hothouse arrangements. He had been placed next to the Countess of Amaby, one of the teasing, mincing women of the Court who were fascinated by his moodiness, and who would gossip maliciously about him afterwards. He seemed to be barely answering her endless chat, staring into his winecup, and drinking too much, Claudia thought.

  'Poor Finn. He looks so unhappy,' the Pretender murmured.

  Claudia frowned. Queen Sia had placed the two Prince Giles opposite each other, halfway down the table, and now from her throne was watching them both.

  'Yes. Well, that's your fault.' Claudia put the spoon into her dish and looked straight at him. 'Who are you? Who's put you up to this?'

  The boy who called himself Giles smiled sadly. 'You know who I am, Claudia. You just won't admit it to yourself.'

  'Finn is Giles.'

  'No, he isn't. It was convenient for you to believe that once. I don't at all blame you. If I'd had to face marrying Caspar I'd have done something as drastic, and I'm sorry for leaving you to such a fate... But you know you'd already started to doubt Finn even before I came back from the dead. Hadn't

  you?'

  She watched him in the candlelight and he leant back and smiled. Close to, his resemblance to Finn was astonishing, but it was as if they were strange twins — one bright, the other dark, one easy, the other tormented. Giles — she didn't know what else to call him — wore a silk coat of peach satin, his dark hair perfectly groomed and tied in a black ribbon. His fingernails, she noticed, were

  manicured, the hands of someone who had never worked. He smelt of lemon and sandalwood. His table manners were exquisite.

  'You're so sure of yourself,' she murmured. 'But you have no idea what I think.'

  'Don't I?' He leant forward as the footmen cleared the dishes and set small gilt-edged plates. 'We were always alike, Claudia. I used to say to Bartlett .'

  'Bartlett?' She stared at him, startled.

  'A dear old man who was my chamberlain. He was the one I talked to most, after Father died, about us, about our marriage. He said you were a haughty little thing, but he liked you.'

  She sipped her wine, barely tasting it. The things he said, his casual memories, disturbed her. A haughty little thing. The old man had written something almost identical in the secret testament she and Jared had found. And surely only they knew of its existence.

  As small dishes of strawberries were served she said, 'If Giles was locked in Incarceron the Queen was part of the plot. So she must know Finn is the real Princes

  He smiled, shaking his head, e
ating the fruit.

  'She doesn't want Finn to be King Claudia went on, stubborn. 'But if he died, it would be far too suspicious. So she decides to discredit him. First she needs to find someone who's the same age, and who looks like him.'

  Giles said, 'These strawberries are really wonderful.'

  'Did she send out messengers through the Realm?' Claudia dipped a finger in the bowl of rosewater. 'They must have been delighted when they found you. A real lookalike.'

  'You really should try them.' His smile was warm.

  'A bit too sweet for me.'

  'Then let me.' He swapped his dish for hers, politely. 'You were saying?'

  'Only two months to train you. Not enough, but you're clever. You'd learn fast. First they'd use a skinwand, get the likeness exact. Then they'd drill you in etiquette, family history, what Giles ate, rode, liked, who he played with, what he studied. They'd teach you to ride and dance. They'd make you memorize his whole childhood.' She glanced at him. 'They must have a few Sapienti in their pay. And they must have promised you a fortune.'

  'Or be holding my poor dear mother in a dungeon, maybe.'

  'Or that.'

  'But I'm to be King, remember?'

  'They'll never let you be King.' Claudia glanced down at Sia. 'They'll kill you, when you've served your purpose.'

  For a moment he was silent, dabbing his mouth with a linen napkin, and she thought she'd scared him. Then she saw he was gazing at Finn through the haze of candle smoke, and when he answered his light humour had vanished.

  'I came back to save the Realm from being ruled by a thief and a murderer He turned. 'And to save you from him too.'

  Startled, she glanced down. His fingers touched hers on the white tablecloth.

  Carefully, she drew her hand away. 'I don't need saving.'