Wintercraft: Legacy (21 page)

Silas’ consciousness carried him through the altered streets, witnessing every horror that had filled them throughout history. He saw cobbles stained with blood that flowed like tar and dripped globules upwards into the air like raindrops on a windowpane. It felt as if the streets were moving past him while he remained still, anchored by the terrified shade, until the jagged shape of a tower stood before him. The tower’s presence pierced through every level of the veil. Its stones looked alive. The veil twisted them into a writhing wall of souls before Silas’ eyes, like bees swarming around a hive
.

Silas tried to clear his mind and see the truth, but the shade’s fear was seeping into the veil, colouring everything beyond the reach of reason. Silas could see Kate and Dalliah at the base of the tower: one soul shining strongly, the other barely there, shrouded in a gathering of black. And at the very top of the tower, he saw the spirit of his crow, perched loyally upon a building that looked as if its stones could devour anything that came too close. He could not let Kate step inside that building. No matter the cost, she had to be stopped
.

Silas stopped resisting the desperate pull of the shade and allowed his consciousness to travel back through the upper levels of the veil. Memories flared and surged through his mind until the shade fled and Silas’ mind retreated from the veil, returning to the living world
.

When he saw through his own eyes again, the street looked as it should have been, except for the persistent gathering of shades still standing around him. Silas’ fingers were still embedded in Edgar’s shoulder from when he had pulled him aside, and frost retreated from his skin as he released his grip.

Edgar was pale with fear and relief. ‘They haven’t moved,’ he said. ‘Whatever you did, I think it stopped them.’

‘I have done nothing,’ said Silas. ‘The connection between you and Kate is real and it is strong. I doubt you could break it. You cannot stay here.’

Edgar was about to speak when the entire street jolted violently. Windows shattered, roofs collapsed inwards and cracks began to thread across the ground. The shades reacted with fear, screaming and plunging in towards Edgar. Silas tried to protect him, but it was no use. The souls struck both of them, surging into their bodies like ink into water.

Whatever Edgar had expected, he was not prepared for the reality of what happened. His body fell immediately into shock as his soul was overwhelmed. Voices and memories exploded in his mind, louder and stronger until all he could hear were the cries of the dead. He tried to move, but his body would not answer him. He tried to shout, but no sound came out.

His dormant blood ran thick with the energies of invading souls and he fell to the ground, smothered by lifetimes of torment and agony. His body could not bear it
and his soul tried to tear away, freeing itself from the onslaught, but in the midst of the madness Edgar felt the link between himself and Kate powerfully for the first time, and he refused to let go. He stared blankly at the sky, suffering in silence as the souls plunged into him again and again.

Silas was still standing, his body heavy with the burden of writhing souls. He took two slow steps away from Edgar. The third was slightly easier, and the further he walked the less the souls were interested in him. All they wanted was the boy.

Silas’ entire body felt bruised. His muscles burned with every step. He looked to the rooftops, where the tip of the living tower was just within sight. One thought sent his crow gliding down from the stones, away from the dangers of that place, and the white feathers streaking its chest glimmered as it answered its master’s call.

The crow settled on a nearby rooftop, flicking its black tail and calling out aggressively to the nearby shades. Silas pointed towards Edgar. ‘Watch the boy,’ he commanded.

He turned away from the bird and ran through the streets without looking back. There was nothing he could do for Edgar there. Kate had condemned him. She could have broken the link the moment she sensed Edgar’s pain. Instead, she was allowing him to suffer. He had been too slow. He had allowed Dalliah to take Kate too far into the darkness.

The veil trembled around him as he moved, anger seeping from him like oil, dripping terror into the air. He found an empty warden patrol house and broke down the
door just before another tremor rattled through the earth. He crossed the room and headed straight for the weapons cache hidden beneath the floor. The rusted lock cracked under his heel and he dragged out two items: a crossbow and a hip quiver containing a single bolt.

He slung the crossbow over his shoulder and left the patrol house, his eyes set with the focus of a soldier. He paid no attention to the endless stream of souls flowing past him along the street. He ignored the echoes of Edgar’s voice carrying through the veil as the boy’s soul struggled to hold on to life. One bolt would be enough. One bolt would finish it all.

Kate stood outside her family’s memorial tower and immediately felt as if she was returning home. The stones welcomed her. The arched doorway was narrow and thin, three times the height of an ordinary door, and when she looked up her sight shifted between the broken shard that stood there in her time and the grand, beautiful edifice that it had once been in the past.

Its walls were hexagonal, with straight sides that reflected the snowflake symbol of the family, and its very top was crowned with a black stone parapet edged with leaning gargoyles. Its past beauty made the stark emptiness of the true sight before her fade in comparison. Other towers had survived the centuries intact. Why had her family not protected theirs? Kate stepped into the stone archway and a soft white glow emanated from the floor inside.

‘They are waiting for you,’ said Dalliah. ‘You wanted to speak to them. This is your chance.’

The floor inside the tower was covered in grit, washed down from the walls by centuries of wind and rain. Dalliah waited outside, watching Kate walk into the true home of her ancestors, but she was not the only one whose eyes were upon the girl. The entire inside wall of the tower was lined with skulls: row upon row of empty staring sockets. Each layer was separated by a horizontal row of bones, and the rows kept on rising, right to the very top of the tower’s exposed shard, where empty spaces showed where fallen skulls had once been placed. Fragments of bone crunched beneath Kate’s boots and she stood still, not wanting to show disrespect towards the remains of the dead.

The air hung with expectation. Kate could hear the wind cutting through the tallest stones, bringing with it a fine rain that glistened in the light seeping from the floor. There, in the middle, was a large sunken spirit wheel, its tiles perfectly level with the floor. The symbols were well worn. The edges were chipped by centuries of weather chewing into them and making their mark, but the wheel itself was well preserved.

Beneath the layer of grit and dirt, the floor was laid with an old mosaic of soft blue and white tiles depicting a perfect snowflake with the spirit wheel set into its very centre. The delicate arms of the design pointed exactly to the points of the compass, but the tiles stopped a short distance from the surrounding wall, leaving bare stone in their place. Kate realised that the bones she could see
must once have been sealed behind an inner wall, but someone had taken the bricks away, exposing the skulls within.

Despite the gruesome surroundings, Kate still felt welcome in that place. Within its walls, life was simple. She no longer felt the tension of the veil invading her senses, or the gentle whispers of the city’s souls that followed her constantly wherever she went. Even Dalliah, standing outside, felt far away. She could not have been more comfortable if she had found herself back in her old bedroom with nothing but the peaceful predictability of an ordinary day stretching ahead of her. It was an intoxicating feeling, but Kate was wise enough to see through the lies that were so carefully laid before her. The pain in her palms was enough to remind her of the danger she was in. She was not there to be accepted by her ancestors. She was there to be used by them.

Kate stood next to the spirit wheel, but would not go close enough to be touched by more than a faint glimmer of its pulsing light. It was easy to believe that nothing existed in the world outside; that there was no city, no people, no green land hidden beneath a blanket of white snow.

‘I’m here to talk,’ she said out loud. ‘I want you to listen to me.’

The bones in the walls shivered enough to shake fragments of dust from their resting places.

‘You wanted me to come here,’ said Kate. ‘I want to know why.’

‘
Speak with us
. . .’

The harmony of the collected voices seemed gentle, but the hidden energy carried with their words was tinged with malevolence. The feeling of welcome Kate had experienced faded back a little.

‘Dalliah Grey brought me here,’ she said.

‘. . .
she ended many of us. She freed us
. . .’

‘This is not freedom.’

‘. . .
we have been waiting
. . .’

‘. . .
the city is ready
. . .’

‘. . .
the veil must fall
. . .’

‘How many of you are here?’

‘. . .
we are many
. . .’

‘Let me see you.’

The tower shifted back to its original state and Kate saw a thin staircase curling up around the intact walls, reaching up towards another perfect mosaic that was pressed into a vaulted hexagonal ceiling. Beneath it, hundreds of silver lights shimmered down the walls: spirit lights, every one of them a soul, listening to her.

‘Are my parents here?’ Kate did not want to ask the question, but she could not escape the possibility. She had to know.

‘. . .
they are gone
. . .’

‘. . .
taken into death
. . .’

Kate was relieved that their souls had not become trapped within the veil, but part of her was disappointed that they had moved on, leaving her behind.

‘. . .
the younger generations have fallen away
. . .’

‘. . .
they do not follow the cause
. . .’

‘What cause?’

‘. . .
the only cause that matters
. . .’

‘. . .
knowledge. Truth
. . .’

‘Did you
choose
to exist like this?’

‘. . .
we are waiting. We knew you would come
. . .’

‘. . .
you will be our end and our new beginning
. . .’

‘You had your time,’ said Kate. ‘You lived your lives. Why did you not go into death?’

‘. . .
we would leave behind too many questions. Too many days unseen
. . .’

‘. . .
history needs us
.’

Dalliah entered the tower. The walls settled immediately back to their decrepit state, but the souls remained. ‘Every person has their purpose,’ said Dalliah. ‘Yours was to come here with me and finish the work of the Walkers. You could not resist that fate any more than your ancestors could resist theirs.’

‘Life doesn’t work that way,’ said Kate. ‘We make our own choices.’

‘I brought you here. You did not come by your own free will.’

‘I knew what I was doing,’ said Kate. ‘I belong here more than you do.’

‘You had no choice in this, despite what you believe,’ said Dalliah. ‘No one can change their fate. Most souls live and die exactly as they are meant to. Others, like you and I, are destined for something else.’

‘What about the souls in the wheels?’ said Kate. ‘Were they destined to be sent into the black, or was their fate
your
choice?’

‘The strong must control the weak or the world will
crumble into chaos,’ said Dalliah. ‘Walkers have always been the strongest minds, the greatest souls. We have spent generations trying to drag the world out of the hole that ordinary people would like to see it languish in forever.
Wintercraft
represents only one small aspect of our history. Our ancestors were thinking beyond this world long before the first drop of ink touched its pages. We were here when the first body was laid in the ground that would become this city. Fume was built to explore the mysteries of death. This was our laboratory. People sent their dead to us to find peace and we learned from their memories in return. The city is ours and it will give us what we need once again.’

Kate walked round to the other side of the spirit wheel and felt the consciousness of hundreds of spirit-eyes following her as she moved. ‘No,’ she said. ‘You weren’t there. You didn’t do any of those things.’

‘I know my history,’ said Dalliah. ‘I know what I have seen.’

‘You know what the veil has shown you,’ said Kate. ‘I have seen your memories. I have seen the final moments of the bonemen who were sealed into these wheels, and I know that Walkers do not know nearly as much about the veil as they think they do. Including you.’

The spirits in the tower flickered with agitation.

‘The Walkers experimented upon each other,’ said Kate. ‘You may have lived a long life but you and all the rest discovered most of your knowledge by accident. You stole it from the souls of others as they died. Some of you murdered to keep your secrets, or to cover up your
mistakes, but if you all knew so much about the veil you would not be trapped on the wrong side of death, holding on to lives that should have ended long ago. The Walkers did not even exist until the bonemen’s time, so do not pretend that this is your city. I understand that you are trapped, but you do not represent all the souls here. You only serve yourself.’