City of Time (28 page)

301

steer the battered
Wayfarer
out of his way, but Johnston's craft was bigger and stronger.

"There's nothing we can do," Owen groaned.

Wesley and Pieta were pinned against the door of the Starry by the attackers. Wesley had long since run out of magno ammunition and was fighting with a sword he'd seized. His torso was covered in cuts and bruises. Pieta's hand was burning from the heat in the whip handle. Her arms and shoulders were weary and the armor she wore was dented and scratched. One eye was almost closed where a rock had struck her.

Pieta and Wesley fought grimly and without hope, but their friends were helpless, sleeping behind the door, and they would not surrender. Their enemies pressed close and they were forced away from the Starry.

We have failed
, Wesley thought as the attackers smashed through the door.

302

Chapter 34

Slipping on the pitching deck of the
Wayfarer
, Cati dived into the little forecastle. She came out holding the magno anchor and climbed up onto the bow. The maelstrom loomed terrifyingly in front of her, a whirlpool of darkness. She waited. Johnston drew back, building up speed, then came forward, faster and faster. Owen tried to steer out of the way, but it was no good. He braced himself for the impact.

The opera blared. Johnston's head was thrown back in a great mocking laugh. Then, just before he delivered the blow that would splinter the
Wayfarer
and grind their hopes into dust, Cati threw the anchor.

It caught! The
Wayfarer
jerked to a halt. Instead of ramming them, Johnston's boat overshot at full speed, heading straight for the whirlpool. He wrestled

303

frantically with the wheel, but it was too late. The front of his craft was caught by the edge of the maelstrom and drawn in. Like a toy, the boat was spun around, closer and closer to the center, until at last it was poised on the edge of the abyss.

Johnston shook his fist. As the craft fell into the emptiness they heard a last angry roar and a blast of opera, which then disappeared into silence.

"That's the end
of him
," Cati said, her face fierce and exultant.

Their enemy might have gone, but the storm still raged. Each time they made a little progress, they were beaten back. At last the storm started to abate and Owen set course for the Workhouse again. They made good progress, but the flow of time grew shallow again. Several times the
Wayfarer
seemed to run aground; at one point Owen thought that they might be there forever, stranded on the shoals, until finally the little craft broke loose. They were cold and exhausted, and their mission was poised on the brink of failure. At last they had half an hour left and the Mortmain was almost aligned with the symbol of the Workhouse.

"We have to chance it," Dr. Diamond said, "or there will be nothing left to save."

"How do we get out of here?" Cati said. "I mean, how do we get to the Workhouse?"

"Grab hold of this rope," Owen said.
Where did that come from?
he thought, then realized again that it was

304

the
Wayfarer
. The knowledge of how to sail her was stored in her ancient timbers. Affectionately he ran a hand along her gleaming stern. "Well done, well sailed," he whispered. To the others he said, "On the count of three, pull. One, two, three ..."

They hauled on the rope and the sail furled back to the crossbeam. The shimmering lights of the aurora borealis changed to the light of normal day, hazy, with the smell of smoke in it. Vapor surrounded them.

"We're in the clouds," Cati exclaimed. Then they were out again, and below was the harbor and the town. And in the middle, surrounded by enemies and fire, was the Workhouse. Overhead loomed the bulk of the moon, a crack starting to appear in its surface.

"Are we too late?" Cati cried.

Dr. Diamond looked at her and did not answer.

305

Chapter 35

"What do we do now?" Cati asked.

"Mary White. That's the other thing the Yeati wrote on the piece of glass," Owen said. "He was right about Black having the tempod, so--"

"So we should go to Mary's." Dr. Diamond nodded. Far below they could see attackers swarming into the Workhouse.

"There's no one to defend the Sleepers!" Cati's face was anguished.

"No, look!" Owen said. From within the Workhouse came a flash of blue.

"Pieta is still holding out," the doctor said. "We must hurry!"

As if the
Wayfarer
responded to their urgency, she dipped her bow and flew toward the ground. Owen

306

could see Mary's shop, half hidden by trees. He steered toward the small back garden, swooping between the branches. As they drew near an earth tremor made the trees shake.

"Not a moment to lose!" Dr. Diamond cried. The
Wayfarer
glided between two very solid beech trees with inches to spare, landing in a potato patch. She skidded along for several meters, then came to a halt, tipping over on one side and looking as though she had been there for years.

They ran around the front. Mary's shop was the same as always, low and whitewashed, the windows gleaming. Owen opened the door and the little bell attached to it rang out. The shop was dark and smelled of fresh tea leaves and tobacco. Owen tapped on the counter.

"The world is about to end and he taps on the counter," Cati murmured. Owen lifted the counter flap and went into the back. There was the fireplace, the sofa, the comfortable chairs, and the grandfather clock in the corner.

He looked around. "I don't know what to do!"

"The answer is here somewhere," Dr. Diamond said, steadying himself as the ground lurched. He reached into his coat and took out the tempod. Then they heard the little bell ring again as someone entered the shop. They heard the counter being lifted.

Martha came into the room, breathing hard. There was blood on one side of her face. Owen gasped when

307

he saw his mother and his face lit up. But this was no time for a happy reunion.

"I saw you coming!" she said. "In the
Wayfarer ...
Do you have it?" There was a great rumble and the whole cottage lurched sideways. Ornaments tumbled from the mantelpiece and a crack ran up the wall.

Martha reached up into her hair and snatched out the key, which had been acting as a hairpin.

"Quickly!" Dr. Diamond cried, brandishing the tem-pod. Owen grabbed it from his hand.

"Here!" his mother said, unlocking the clock case. Owen stared in amazement at the endless blue-black space within. He raised the tempod and flung it into the depths.

The tempod split apart and the milky, silvery substance expanded until it seemed for a second to fill all of the space, moving at the speed of galaxies expanding.

"Close it!" Dr. Diamond shouted. "Time might start to flow the other way!"

Martha slammed the case shut and locked it. The house gave one more sickening lurch to the side and then was still.

No one spoke.

Finally Dr. Diamond broke the silence. "Three minutes," he said, a slight shake in his voice. "That's all we had left. Three minutes."

"Is the Workhouse all right?" Cati said, fear in her voice. "Is it? We saw it destroyed on the visionater."

"No, it is safe," Dr. Diamond said. "We arrived back

308

just before the moon struck the earth. It is safe, Cati. At least it is if Pieta has won her fight. And she rarely loses."

"Mum," Owen said hesitantly, "these are my friends. They are Resisters ... they ..." He stopped in confusion. She must know about the Resisters! And where was Mary, if they were in Mary's house?

"Yes, I know who the Resisters are," she said, coming over to him and touching his face, almost in wonder. "I know who the Navigator is, and I know that you have done the thing that your father dreamed of. To find the
Wayfarer
and sail her in time. He would be very proud of you now."

Owen blushed. Cati had tears in her eyes and Dr. Diamond turned politely away, a smile on his face.

"Your father was brought here by your grandfather from Hadima as a child for safety when the Harsh started to rise to power, as was I. When we met we didn't know our histories, but we knew there was something different about us."

"We knew the Navigator as guardian of the Mortmain, and as a leader," Dr. Diamond murmured. "We didn't know anything about the
Wayfarer
. ..."

"Neither did we at first," Martha said. "Owen's dad pieced it together gradually. Then he came across the road to Hadima. We went there in a truck."

"The truck!" Cati said.

"Your father found out the true meaning of the Mortmain. It has many features and was part of the

309

chest for a long time after Gobillard put it there. But it's really a time compass."

"And my dad ...?" Owen felt his voice falter.

"He took the Mortmain from the Resisters," his mother said, "but not to give it to Johnston. He hoped that it might lead him to the
Wayfarer."

"That wasn't what I wanted to know," Owen said. "I wanted to know if ... if he is still alive."

His mother turned her head away as if she had not heard him. But Owen knew that she had. He opened his mouth to ask again, but Cati interrupted.

"What am I doing? What am I thinking?" she cried. "I am the Watcher, and the Sleepers are under threat!"

Without waiting for the others, she dashed out the door.

Owen had no choice but to follow.

In the Starry all was quiet and dark. The Resisters slept, even as the attackers broke in. The first, a swarthy man, looked up at the ceiling and grunted in contempt. He moved toward the nearest bed where a girl slept. If he had known to smell the air he would have realized that the staleness had gone and that there was a wakefulness in the Starry.

He lifted his cudgel to bring it down on her head. The blow never fell. A battle-grizzled Resister shook sleep from his eyes and sat up. With one hand he plucked the cudgel from the man's hand and with the other sent him flying across the floor. Others were

310

waking now. A lean, sour-faced man in brightly colored robes sat up, just as more attackers burst in, whooping and shouting. The man's eyes narrowed. He reached under his bed and drew out a magno gun.

The grizzled man charged at the attackers. "To me, Samual!" he shouted to the man with the gun.

"What do you think I'm doing, Rutgar, you fool?" Samual muttered, jumping to his feet. The two of them drove the attackers back toward the door. Soon the whole Workhouse was a mass of fighting men and women.

But the attackers were many and the Workhouse defenders were weak after their long sleep, and not everyone was awake yet. Rutgar and Samual fought desperately back to back, but the battle had started to turn against them.

"There's too many!" Rutgar shouted.

"Wait!" Samual said. "Look!" From the direction of the sea came a great crowd of Raggies, with Silkie at their head! Alongside her was a small figure in white. The Raggies charged from behind and a cry of dismay went up from the attackers.

"Now!" Silkie shouted. A bolt of ice from the Harsh child flew toward them.

"The Harsh!" they cried. "The Harsh are among us!"

Within minutes the attackers were in disarray. First they were beaten back from the walls, then they threw down their weapons, turned tail, and ran.

311

Wesley slumped to the grass, weary beyond measure. He looked up at the moon. Was it his imagination or was it smaller, further away?

A small figure skidded to a halt in front of him. "Wesley! What are you doing sitting here? Look at the place! Fires everywhere! Get up!"

Wesley grinned wearily. "Good to see you too, Cati." He held out a hand. "At least you can help me up."

"I've better things to do," she said furiously. She darted off into the smoke and Wesley clambered to his feet.

Suddenly Cati reappeared from the smoke and threw her arms around him. "I thought you were all dead!" she said, a catch in her voice. Wesley saw tears in her eyes. She let go of him and stepped back, dashing the tears away angrily.

"Come on," Wesley said with a broad smile. "Them fires got to be put out."

When Owen and the others arrived there was no time for talk. The earth still rumbled, although the moon was retreating to its proper orbit, and fires still raged. The Resisters and the Raggies formed a chain and relayed water from the river to the Workhouse. They worked until the flames had been quenched and they stood in a charred and smoking landscape. Owen recognized many of the smoke-blackened faces.

Rutgar, the leader of the defense, came over to him,