The Owl Keeper (26 page)

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slammed the bolt forward, securing the door, with barely any effort. He slumped against the wall in a daze. The owl flew up with his cap and settled on his shoulder. Max's heart warmed as her feathers brushed his cheek. There was no owl in the world braver or smarter than she was.

"Max?" Rose shouted up. "Are you okay, Max?"

"I'm fine," he said, rushing down the steps toward her. "But we have to go, Rose. The Dark Brigade knows we're here!"

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

[Image: The fortress.]

Brushing against the frost-bound wall, Max started down the winding steps, holding tightly to Rose's hand, taking care not to slip on the ice. Down and down they went, as he tried to block out images of wolves and skræks and the terrifying Brigadier with his gun.

Max had seen diagrams of fortresses in Gran's book on the Middle Ages, so in a way the tower seemed oddly familiar. The steps had been carved centuries ago into the stonework, with long narrow windows cut into the walls at intervals. He pictured armored warriors, arrows nocked to their bowstrings, defending the walled-in city that lay below.

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The tower had a faint putrid odor, and he imagined droppings from bats or mice--hopefully nothing larger than a rat. A disturbing thought flew into his head: what if there were Misshapens down here, engineered to survive the deadly cold? He forced the thought out of his mind.

"You're not scared, are you, Max?" whispered Rose.

"No," he lied, trying not to think of the massive, sprawling cliff this fortress was built upon. "Can you see where we're going?"

"Things are a bit foggy. Hold on to me, okay, Max?"

"Sure thing, Rose," he said, determined to see her safely down.

They spiraled deeper into the murky light. Max tried to move quickly, afraid the Dark Brigadier might be following them. But the ice was treacherous and many of the steps were cracked or shorn off. The wind howled, bitterly cold, shaking the tower as they descended. Rose lost her footing more than once, but Max always managed to grab her in time.

As they passed the narrow windows, he caught glimpse after glimpse of the ruined city--smashed rooftops, frozen courtyards, hulking brick structures. He stared in awe at the skeletal archways and fallen chimneys, the serpentine passageways that folded into themselves.

"Do you think he's really down there? The Owl Keeper, I mean?" whispered Rose.

"Of course he's down there," Max answered reassuringly. But really he had no idea. Was this the way to the Owl Keeper? He was so cold and exhausted he couldn't be sure of anything anymore.

Judging from the view, Max guessed they were halfway down the turret. Ice crystals floated on the air around them and the

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temperature dropped lower and lower. His face felt funny, like it was going numb. He hoped his owl was keeping warm inside his pocket.

He looked over at Rose and was surprised. Her eyes were glazed with frost, and ice sparkled on her hair and lashes. Her face appeared strangely luminous. She looked, he thought, like a silent, scary angel.

Then, without warning, the steps made a sharp turn and ended. All he could see was a platform, slick with ice, jutting out over the frozen city.

"Watch out!" he cried, grabbing Rose before she could go any farther. Helios bumped into them, giving a startled yelp.

Queasy with vertigo, Max inched toward the edge, his heart knocking. He realized he was looking at a parapet. There had once been a railing around it, but now it was gone--and the steps along with it.

Rose shook her head and ice flew everywhere. "Max, what is it? Why did you stop?"

"They're gone, the steps are gone!" he cried, on the verge of tears. "There's no way down, Rose! It looks like a cannonball ripped through here--or maybe it was the tremors. All that's left is this broken parapet."

The owl wriggled inside his pocket; he opened it and she pinged out.

Rose frowned. "What's a parapet?"

"It's like a balcony," he explained. "An overhang in a fortress where archers shoot their arrows."

"Oh," murmured Rose. "I'm really, really cold." She sank onto

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the bottom step, resting her head against Helios. The blanket Max had tied around the dog hung in tatters. "I'm so tired, Max ..."

Worried at how drawn and dispirited she looked, Max took off his jacket and threw it over Rose and the dog.

He turned and stared bleakly into the abyss. Viewed through falling sleet, the city was a blur of hollows and shadows and yawning spaces. He stared into the darkness until somewhere amid the buildings he thought he saw a light flicker. He rubbed his eyes and looked again but saw only snow. Had he imagined it, he wondered, or could life exist in the Frozen Zone?

"I'm turning into an ice-mummy," muttered Rose, rubbing her bare foot. "I can't feel my toes."

Max saw with alarm that her toes were cracked and bleeding. Her lips had turned purple and there was frost in her hair and around her mouth. Were ice-mummies real, or had the High Echelon made them up? Max couldn't be sure about anything anymore.

He unlaced his boots and stepped out of them. "Here, put on my socks." He peeled off his wool socks and handed them to Rose. "Sorry if they're a bit wet and smelly."

She gave him a crooked smile. "That's okay."

How was he going to break it to Rose that their odds of getting out of here were less than zero? He thought about taking out his owl book and reading aloud to her, to comfort them both, but he was too tired.

"Try to sleep," he said, sitting beside her and huddling close. He could already hear her snoring gently. Crouched against the freezing wind, he closed his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.

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It could have been hours, or maybe only minutes, but something woke Max with a start. He looked out at the dead city, and his heart skipped. Over the rooftops and chimneys an incandescent wave of light was breaking. He watched, enthralled by its beauty, as it lit up the sky. Transparent and glowing, the light streamed in all directions, flowing over the rooftops like cool white lava.

"Wake up, Rose!" he said excitedly, his heart lighter. "Something's happening!" Rose stirred beside him.

"Open your eyes, quick!" The light shimmering across the ice took his breath away. "It's a huge silver wave, coming up over the city!"

Rose nodded, still groggy from sleep, and Helios leaned against her, licking her face. "It's not a wave, silly, we're too far from the sea."

"Not that kind!" said Max. "It's a wave of light!"

Hooting, the owl careened over their heads; Max could see she was getting more agitated by the minute. Flapping determinedly she propelled herself into the air, shuddering upward. Max jumped up, tremulous and fearful. Was she going to fly away and leave him? What about her damaged wing?

He whistled to call her back, then stopped. His owl, he realized, had to follow her owl instincts. All he could do was let her go and trust she would be safe. He watched with pride as she flew off, heading straight into the wave of light. She's so achingly beautiful, he thought, there's no other owl like her in the world.

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Rose sat hugging Helios. "It better not be an avalanche coming, that's all I can say."

The sleet turned to snow, falling in thick flakes. Max could hear silvery voices, whispering inside his head. Their whispers ran through him like a shower of light and he realized what the cresting wave was.

"It's a flock of silver owls!" he cried.

Rose leapt to her feet, her face radiant. "I can see shapes, Max, amazing silver shapes!"

Tears of elation sprang to Max's eyes as he watched his silver owl soar higher and join the other owls. Icy flames sparked at her wing tips. And her eyes, he could see, gave off a fearsome golden light. Wheeling skyward, the others followed her lead, forming a vast, glistening arc above the city.

For all his life, Max realized, he had been waiting for this moment.

Behind them, Max heard a low growl and something cold touched the base of his spine. He turned. Crouched on an overhead step, a plague wolf stared down, eyes ablaze, dirty foam frothing at its mouth.

Max's stomach convulsed. There was nowhere to run--they were trapped. "Rose," he whispered, "there's--"

"A wolf," she said. He could feel her trembling next to him. "I can smell its cruddy fur."

Helios leapt to his feet, snarling.

"No, Helios!" cried Rose, clutching the dog's leg and pulling him back. "That wolf's infected!"

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Max stood paralyzed with fear, the last of his energy drained away. His only consolation was that his silver owl was safe.

"Maybe--" The words stuck in his throat. Fear clotted his brain. He was out of ideas.

The wolf's scorching red eyes bored into him. Max knew it wanted him dead. Teeth bared, the wolf sprang. For one heart-stopping moment he saw the filthy matted fur on its underbelly, its curved claws and foaming mouth. Clenching his fists, he steeled himself for the worst.

But instead of matted fur and rotting breath, Max was hit with a piercing shriek. A black shape shot out of the fog. Max threw his arms around Rose to save her, but the hissing creature flew straight at the wolf, sinking its teeth into the animal's throat.

A skræk! He watched the wolf try to shake it off, but the skræk held on, slashing the wolf with its razor-sharp teeth. Max could see blood drip onto the icy ground.

As the wolf collapsed, Max realized he was no longer standing still. He looked down and saw his boots, laces flopping, sliding across the ice, moving him and Rose toward the edge of the parapet. Alarmed, he dug in his heels, trying to get some traction, but he couldn't stop.

"Max, what's happening?" Rose clung to Helios, who was sliding along with them. "Max!"

The extra-thick treads were useless. The two children went on sliding. Max flapped his arms, trying desperately to grab on to something, but there was nothing. This can't be happening! he told himself, I can't let Rose go over!

The parapet came to an abrupt end and Max's stomach lurched

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as the ground gave way beneath them. He heard Rose scream. Helios yelped in surprise as they slipped over the edge and tumbled off the fortress into space.

Max reached out and took Rose's hand as they fell. Her coat opened, billowing out around her, and on her face was a look of pure terror. The dog plummeted down, down, down, legs churning, ears sticking out like small wings.

There were so many things Max wanted to tell Rose--how much he treasured her friendship, how sorry he was not to have saved her. But it was impossible to speak: they were falling too fast. As they hurtled down into the frozen city, sadness overwhelmed him. He and Rose had traveled so far, and fought so many battles, but all that was over now. His eyes filled with tears.

It wasn't until moments later that Max realized the icy air was growing warmer. They were slowing down, no longer falling at breakneck speed. His panic turned to amazement as he caught sight of snow-covered rooftops and crooked chimneys. A fresh wind blew lightly against his face.

Pale silver feathers floated in the air around him, sticking to his mittens and jacket. Beneath them he could see the flock of silver owls, flying so closely their wings carried the three. Warmth rose from the birds' bodies, and he could smell their fresh grassy breath. Their wings beat in unison, weaving a carpet of feathers and light.

The cold left his limbs and warm blood pumped through his veins. Max felt layers of ice melting away from his frigid bones. And he glided downward, carried on the wings of owls, caught halfway between waking and dreaming.

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"Rose!" he shouted, his heart alight with a wild elation. "The owls are taking us down!" She looked at him in astonishment.

The owls slowly drifted to the ground. Their wings touched and overlapped, brushing one another like light through light. Max imagined he could hear their tiny hearts, beating rapidly. Then, with amazed delight, he saw his very own owl, flying alongside the others, her feathers shimmering with an ethereal light. From her throat came soft, silvery hoots.

In a world of extreme darkness, he knew he had found his way. The Owl Keeper was here, in this mysterious frozen city. He sighed with happiness and relief, thinking: we don't belong to this earth anymore, Rose and I--we've been touched by the silver owls and we'll never be the same.

On this coldest, bitterest day of his life, these wondrous, magical birds had saved them.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

[Image: Rose.]

The owls deposited Max, Rose and the dog on a soft surface; then they took off, scattering silently in a hundred directions, and Max had no idea which way his owl had gone.

He and Rose landed the way he imagined comic-book kids would do, flopping over each other like string puppets, on a stack of bundled hay inside a snow-filled courtyard. Still in a half-trance, he rose up on his elbows, feeling a sense of perfect calm.

It seemed that while he had been aloft, carried by the owls, his life had changed in some mysterious way. He plucked a feather from his mitten and held it up. It smelled of the forest and sparkled