And then Harlan saw it, partiallyeclipsed by drifting smoke. “It’s comingdown,” he said. “It’s going to attack.”
“It’s dilating its nostrils,” someoneshouted. A sign that the bird was makingfire.
“Run!” barked Lefarr.
The men scattered. All except one. Inthree quick strides, Colm Fellowes was atthe nearest hut. In a display of brutestrength, he ripped away an upright usedto frame the door. Yelling a ferociouschallenge, he came back into the clearing. The bird angled its descent path towardshim. The whole tribe were urging Colm tostand away. But Colm, his hut destroyed,his life undone by Aunts and Re:movers,his mind addled by what he had seen inthe tower, was determined to stand and
fight. He swung out as the bird swooped low. The bird made a strange kind of
caarking
noise and the clearing was lost in a brief flash of orange. No scientist had ever been able to explain how a creature half the size of a small child was able to produce such a vigorous burst of expanding flame. But Harlan would witness it twice that morning, in all its terrible glory. The blow Colm Fellowes had been trying to land span him round in an arc of fury. So feral was his lunge that the wood slipped tamely out of his hands and fell to the ground with a meaningless clunk. The bird rushed by, unharmed. But Colm’s robe had taken fire from the hem
to the belt. He held out his arms and
screamed.
Mathew and Terance were the first to
reach him. They brought him down and rolled him across the earth in a bid to
smother the worst of the flames. Then Hugo was there, beating Colm’s legs with another robe. By the time that water had been brought and the fire stopped, Colm had passed out in a shaking fit. Most of his robe had disintegrated. What was left was welded to his blistered skin.
Thomas Spilo thundered, “Why is itdoing this? What does it want?”
But it was Bernard who suddenlyclaimed everyone’s attention. “Lookthere!” He pointed towards Lefarr’s hut. The firebird was perched on whatremained of the badly-scorched walls,eyeing the tribe with malevolent interest.
“It’s scanning us,” said Bernard.
And as usual, he was right. The bird’s
fain touched the mind of every man present, but its gaze came to rest on only one of them: Harlan.
Hugo Abbot spread his hands and urged the men to be silent. “It seems to want
you,” he said to Harlan, “or what you found in the tower. We can’t defend
ourselves against such a force. Whatever it wants, I beg you, give it up. Don’t let another man be burned.”
Mathew Lefarr drew alongside Harlan. Speaking quietly, out of earshot of the others, he said, “Is this the Shadow you were warned of?”
Harlan made no reply. He steppedforward until his image had filled thebird’s eye. He drew the claw from hisrobe.
The bird hissed and laid its ear tufts
back.
“It’s frightened of it,” Mathew
muttered.
Harlan tightened his grip. Right away
he achieved what no one else on
Co:pern:ica ever had: a mental link with afirebird. But as his consciousness jostledwith that of the bird’s, he was horrified tofind that he had actually commingled withsomething alien. The bird – or rather itsmind – was dead. Another entity wasusing the body as a vessel. It was quick toidentify itself.
We are Ix
, it said.
We. Not I, Harlan noted.
It swarmed around his mind. Probing. Dangerous.
We are a Cluster
, it said inresponse to his thoughtwave.
You are theone who opened the portal
.
Harlan’s mind flashed to hisexperiment. This thing had come throughthe rift?
You will guide us to a fire star
, the Ixsaid coldly, applying itself toindiscriminate parts of Harlan’s brain andtormenting his neural network in theprocess. Externally, the watching men sawhim quake, but no one dared interrupt. Theinvoluntary spasm of muscles forced hishand to close tighter round the claw. Afresh wave of energy surged through hismind. To his surprise, the Ix Cluster wassuppressed a little. Now Harlan seized thechance to interrogate them.
Kill me and you’ll never get back
, hesaid.
Where are you from?
The Cluster welled up in a flare ofresistance.
We have travelled from
Isenfier
.
Isenfier. A planet? Another dimension? No, Harlan realised. It was neither ofthose. The site of a conflict loomed in his
mind. Isenfier was a battlefield. He
shuddered and let this pass.
Why are you here? What led you to the portal?
We are following the beacon
, they said.
In that instant, Harlan’s heart nearlystopped as images of David swarmedthrough his mind, most notably of the nightterrors at the therapy centre. So this iswhat had been coming for his son. Withfierce intent, he drew upon the strength ofthe claw again. His consciousnesspowered through the heart of the Cluster,dividing the Ix and weakening them. Aware he couldn’t hold them in this state
for long, he sought a small colony and separated it out.
Why are you trying to reach this boy?
The colony said:
The beacon resonates in him
.
What is the reason for the beacon?
To seek help from this world
.
Who is sending the signal?
His dragon
, they said, reclustering withsuch malevolent purpose that Harlan’sbody collapsed to its knees. Through sheerstrength of will, he raised a hand to keepthe tribe back. It was vital not to break the
link with the bird. For in the instant the Ix
had spoken of the dragon, they had also shown Harlan an image of it. A tiny creature, almost a caricature of its kind. Small, green, trumpet-shaped nostrils, oddly spiked scales, large flat feet. There
was infinite kindness in its oval eyes. Strangest of all, it was holding a pen (or maybe a pencil). But what connection could such a thing have with David?
They are one
, said the Cluster, reading Harlan’s thoughts.
Across worlds?
Across time
.
You will show us thelocation of a fire star. Now.
Harlan sank further, grimacing in pain. The muscles in the arm that held the claw
felt as if they were raw and bleeding. He bravely resisted letting go.
Tell me about the dragon. Why does it carry a pen?
This time, there was a pause before the Ix replied.
You will drop the creat:or
.
You will give the claw to us
.
Creat:or
. Harlan measured the word
carefully. He thought about the talk he’d
been having with Mathew just before the fires were set. How he’d written
ISENFIER
on the paper. Had he brought this devastation on them? Was it possible the universe acted on the words that were
written with the claw, or brought about a close response to them? Was it possible that dragons could shape dark matter? He let the last of these thoughts leak out and sensed anxiety throughout the Cluster. Mathew was right; the Ix
were
frightened of the gift from the tower, wary of what it could do. Harlan decided to put it to the test. Leaning forwards, he stretched out his hand as if he was going to lay the claw on the ground. But at the final moment, he flipped it and tried to write
GAWAININ
the dust. His intention was to call up the creature from the tower. But the Ix were
quick to spot the danger. Harlan had managed no more than the ‘
G
’ when the bird descended with its claws outstretched, ripping at his hands and arms and face. In the mêlée, Harlan dropped the claw. At the same time, a knife flashed through the air and struck the bird in the side of the neck. An accurate throw, but not a perfect one. The knife jiggled in the wound and fell out in a splash of bright green blood. The firebird screeched, more annoyed than hurt. It turned to see Mathew running towards it wielding a rock. But by then it had snatched the claw from the
ground and was able to defend its prize with fire. Mathew hurled his rock through a wall of flame. It missed the bird by several feet. But the fire did not miss him.
It caught hold of the arm of his robe and
forced him to spin away, crying out in pain. He was surrounded by men and doused right away, lucky to escape with only superficial burns.
Once again, the bird flew to the walls of the hut, where it rested, holding the claw in its beak.
Harlan pressed his lips together,knowing he had lost. But there, in theshadow of the Isle of Alavon, a pact wasstruck. “Wherever you go, I’ll find you,”he said, staring at the bird with as muchraw malice as it was reserving for him. The bird tilted its head and made a record
of the face. Then it spread its wings and
was gone.
“Brave words, Harlan, but hard to follow through.” Lefarr idled up to him, clutching at his arm. “We’d be old and
ugly in the time it would take us to journey back to Central – always assuming we went the right way. What did you learn?”
“It’s alien. It’s going after my son.”
Lefarr shook his head. “There’s nothing we can do.”
But Harlan Merriman had other ideas.
Without another word, he walked acrossto Colm.
The engineer was still laid out on theground, surrounded by a group ofconcerned-looking men. A light blankethad been draped across his body. Terancewas offering him sips of water. But Colmwas barely breathing. He was going todie.
Harlan knelt down. “Colm,” hewhispered.
“Harlan?” Terance frowned. “What are
you doing? He can’t speak. The pain
would be unbearable for him.”
“Please, let him try,” Harlan said. He touched Colm’s shoulder. One of the few parts of his body that still looked human. “Colm, do the Re:movers have any weaknesses?”
“Harlan, in the name of Agawin, let the man rest.” Hugo Abbot had joined in the argument now.
Colm opened his mouth and made a gurgling sound.
“He wants to say something,” Mathew said.
Colm nodded his head a fraction.
“This had better be good,” Terancegrowled. He moved aside to let Harlankneel close.
“Colm, is there any way to defeat the
machines? You worked on them once. Can they be disabled?”
A slight moan left the engineer’s mouth. “Water,” he croaked.
“Water. He wants water,” Hugo said.
Colm shook his head painfully.
“No, he
means
water,” Mathew said. “Water: that’s what we attack them with.”
“Attack?” said Terance. “What are you talking about?”
“How, Colm?” Harlan asked. He bent his ear to the dying man’s lips and listened for a good half minit. By the end, Colm’s body was shaking badly and his lungs were making a dreadful rasp.
“Enough,” Terance said, pulling Harlan away. Within moments, however, the rasping had ceased and Colm Fellowes was still.
The men lowered their heads.
After a respectful period of silence, Harlan said, “Call a meeting, Hugo. Now. The whole tribe.”
“What did he tell you?” Mathew asked.
Harlan looked at the burning huts. “How to make our way out of here,” he said.
8
“This is madness! Madness, I say!” Terance Humbey struck his fist into his open palm and stared at the tribesmen around the circle. “We have just buried one of our strongest men. How many more are likely to die if we try to fight the Re:movers?”
“I agree, it’s dangerous,” Harlan said. “All the same, I ask the tribe to consider it. The bird is possessed by a creature of darkness, an entity from another world. It has gone to Central with the claw of a dragon. Who knows what evil it might do there?”
“So you are asking us to put our lives at
risk to help those who’ve sent us here?”
said Hugo.
“Let us not forget that our wives and children are in Central,” said Roderic.
“And the birds,” said Bernard. “Don’t we owe some allegiance to them?” He made a slight gesture over his shoulder. The closest of the green fields was right behind him.
Several men grunted their approval for
this.
“We should at least hear Harlan’s
plan,” said Mathew. “Then we vote. Harlan, if the vote goes against you, this is done. Are you agreed?”
Harlan chewed his lip. “Agreed.”
“Then tell the tribe what you propose we do.”