Keys and Curses (Shadow Book 2) (36 page)

Flower and Pinky took another step backward. “How?”

“I won’t kill you, for starters, even though you’ve just cost me almost all my new muses. You have no idea how much more efficient they were than you lot, but no matter. It suits me that every writer and artist in Dream should receive no more inspiration.”

“Why?” Flower was horrified. “Why would you want that?”

“Because the ignorant and uncultured are easier to control.” He hopped down from the table and stalked them, a slow, measured dance that took them all back toward the door into the foyer. “But that’s not your concern. No, you my dear, are going to be quite serene. You think I’m a tyrant now, perhaps, but when you understand that I’m keeping all of my muses safe and happy, you’ll think different.” He paused. “To be accurate, I suppose you won’t think about me at all. You’ll forget I ever existed. Would you like that?”

“Yes I would.” The words were more fervent than she intended. Flower stopped herself. “Wait. How?” She and Pinky went backwards into the foyer. Her eyes widened when she realised the door was open. The late afternoon sun turned the threshold a deep gold-pink. “Pinky run!”

“Pinky stay.” Pierus’s voice kept them both in place. “Unless you want to be food for the roses. You my dear will share a rather contented exile with the muses, at least until I discover what you are. Now Flower, give me your key.”

“It’s gone,” Flower said.

That stopped his advance, at least for a moment. “What?”

“I said it’s gone.” Flower felt a surge of victory. “I don’t care what you do to me now, you’ll never get that key.”

“You gave it to Shazza.” His lip curled.

“Maybe.”

Pierus strode forward so fast Flower had nowhere to go. He put his hands around her neck and pinned her to the nearest wall. Flecks of spit flew from his lips when he spoke, his face creased into a mask of fury. “It’s all for nothing, you stupid creature, you hear me? It was for nothing! Shazza can’t stop me! I’ll find a way to rebuild the machine and make both Shadow and Dream bow before me. I’ll finish rebuilding Badora, he’s almost complete. And when he’s done, I’ll send him out to hunt down and kill Nikifor and any other dissident who dares to threaten my life! And you–you won’t remember a thing.” He let her go and took several steps back.

Flower caught her breath. It was all she could do not to collapse. “You’d–you’d kill Nikifor?”

“Kill him? I’ll grind him to dust.” Pierus raised a hand, swooped it down, pointed at her and said a word that made her stomach turn.

“No!” Pinky ran in front of them and flung out her arms to shield Flower.

“Pinky no!” Flower pushed her out of the way, but it was too late. Pinky doubled over, went white and then collapsed.

“Oh how tiresome,” Pierus said. “She could have waited her turn.”

“What have you done to her?” Flower dropped to her knees and put her arm under Pinky’s shoulders. She was still breathing, but apart from that gave no sign of life.

Pierus said that word again. It rang harsh on her ears and made her even sicker this time. A shockwave crumpled through her whole body and made her bones crunch. She fell down next to Pinky. Pierus’s boots moved toward her. They were lime green.

Everything went dark.

It was still dark when Flower opened her eyes. She felt around her. She wasn’t in bed. The floor was hard. In fact the space was very cramped and her shoulder was wedged rather uncomfortably against some iron bars. The rumble of wheels underneath accounted for the occasional jolt. She poked something soft.

The soft thing squeaked. “Watch it!”

“Watch what?” Flower looked about, puzzled. “I can’t see anything.” She peered through the bars, then caught a flash of light. “No wait! I can see something!”

“What?” The soft thing scrambled up next to her and peered through the bars too.

Flower’s eyes gradually got used to the darkness. She could see leaves, lots of them, doing the oddest things. Everywhere the bright blue-white lights appeared, the leaves curled away. Soon she could make out tall people wearing long coats and pretty silver masks marching on either side. Some of them pulled the cart they were riding in.

After a while Flower got bored with watching, so she settled back and studied her companion. She was a pretty little thing with bright pink hair and bright pink clothes. “Who are you?”

“Pinky.” The pink thing crouched across from her. “Who are you?”

“Flower of the Great North Island Beyond the Night-Flickered Sea.”

“Long name.”

They rode in silence.

“What do you suppose we’re doing?” Flower asked after a while.

Pinky shrugged. “Don’t remember. I guess we’re going somewhere.”

“I guess.” They went under a really, really dark space, then through more leaves for a long time. The blue-white lights were starting to sputter and crackle by the time the leaves thinned out and then disappeared. After that, they travelled across a dark, grassy plain. Moonlight filtered through the bars, allowing Flower to see her companion a little better.

Pinky wrinkled her nose. “I smell smoke. Are we on fire?”

Flower checked the cart. “I don’t think so.” She was about to ask the nice men in the masks if they were on fire when raised voices caught her attention.

“Yeah, by order of the king,” a woman said. She sounded a little bit cross.

“The king never gave those orders to us,” a male voice replied.

“Takes you into his confidence, does he? Get out of my way, would you? King said the pink one was to go with me.”

Their voices dropped. The cart stopped moving. A young blonde woman marched up to the cage, flanked by two masked men. The lines of worry on her face smoothed when she saw Flower and Pinky.

“Hello,” Flower said.

“Give me some breathing space, you two.” The blonde scowled at her escort, who took a step back. Then she pressed up to the bars. “Are you alright? We haven’t got long before they realise.”

“Realise what?” Pinky studied her nails with great interest. “I like pink,” she added.

The blonde looked from her to Flower. “What does she mean, she likes pink?”

Flower shrugged. “I don’t know, sweetie, we just met. What’s your name?”

The blonde said some very bad words.

Pinky blinked. “Do bulls really do that?”

The blonde said more bad words, then motioned to a masked man, who jammed a key in the door and yanked it open. He reached in and hauled Pinky out.

“Hey!” Pinky shook herself down. “Watch the hair. What’s going on?”

The blonde returned to the cart, curled her hands around the bars and looked hard at Flower. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“What for?”

She didn’t answer. She pushed off the bars, put an arm around Pinky’s shoulders and hurried away.

Puzzled and vaguely troubled by the whole thing, Flower waved at her retreating back, but after a minute, dropped her hand. They weren’t looking. Before long the blonde and Pinky had disappeared in the night and the cart continued on its way.

She next woke up to the feel of sunshine on her face and something tickling her nose. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them.

A girl with red hair and freckles and bright eyes the same blue as the sky overhead grinned down at her.

Flower sat up and looked around with interest. The grass was green, the flowers were bright and the air fresh and sweet. “Hello,” she said. “Where am I?”

“I don’t know.” The redhead stuck the flower stalk she’d been tickling Flower’s face with behind her ear. “But it’s terribly nice here. We haven’t had anyone new for a while.”

Flower saw a white line painted on the grass near her hand. How curious. She reached out to touch it.

“Don’t do that!” the redhead grabbed her hand away.

“Why?”

The redhead picked up a stick and tossed it at the line. As soon as it touched the air overhead, the stick burst into flame and then disappeared.

Flower inched away from the line. “Gosh, that’s a bit dangerous.”

“Yes it is. Except for that, it’s terribly nice here. Come on in and meet everyone.”

Flower’s hand went to her neck. Something important was missing. There was something she was supposed to do. Wasn’t there?

She took the redhead’s hand and followed her up the slope to where she could see muses, lots and lots of them.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Freakin Fairies straggled into the late afternoon sunlight, blind, scrawny creatures caked with dirt and blood and that definable tinge of silver that tainted the eyes, the nails, even the hair after too long underground. Leather tunics hung in ragged strips from their backs. Dreadlocks snarled and tangled on their heads. It was hard to tell if they were angry or shell shocked or even just happy to finally feel the sun on their faces.

Nikifor watched them from the shade of the trees. Not a flicker of emotion crossed his face to betray the storm that raged inside him. He did not look at the body that lay on a makeshift stretcher, covered by a tattered blanket, the only shroud that could be found for a hero the people of Shadow would never know they had.

He didn’t look at Ishtar Ishtar and her Bloody Fairies, either. The battered and bruised band clustered by the path, talking in low voices, counting their injuries, trading stories as fairies always did. Nikifor knew they would not be part of whatever came next. The divisions between the fairy tribes were too old and too deep. Ishtar would probably never even admit to having helped them.

Stones crunched underfoot. The Bloody Fairies moved off into the shadows in a silent, tight group without as much as a glance behind. Ishtar gave him one grim nod. “See you later, Curse Boy.” Then she disappeared after them.

He tried to focus on the Freakin Fairies. He tried to feel good that he’d helped them. It could have been the first real, sane, constructive thing he’d done in his life, but-

He flinched away from the thought, from the dried blood caked on his hands, from the blood-spattered axe at his side and the body behind him.

A hammer strike on rock echoed right through his skull, drawing his attention back to the cave mouth he never wanted to see again.

The fairies leaped, one by one, impossibly high jumps and yells of fury and always an impact, with whatever weapon they could find, on the same fissure in the rock face. Hairline cracks fractured into a web of lines. Tiny rocks rained down with every blow.

Nikifor put his hands to his head and tried to block out the jarring sound, but it went on and on until the rocks cracked, rumbled and collapsed in on themselves. The fairies scrambled back from the cloud of dust and rubble the cave-in threw up.

A hand tapped him on the shoulder. “You okay mate?”

Nikifor nodded. “Fine.”

“I hope so. You’re not much use to me if you don’t have the stomach for this.” Clockwork jammed his wide-brimmed hat on his head and gestured at the mine. “You can consider the silver supply cut off, at least from this mine. I’m taking them back to Dream to be relocated until all this is over.”