Wintercraft: Legacy (22 page)

‘You do not know anything,’ said Dalliah.

‘I know that you did not have to help the bonemen repair the veil the first time it began to fall. You could have ended it then, but you didn’t. You had already lost your soul by that time. You could have let the veil fall and claimed your spirit back centuries ago. Instead you fixed it the only way you could. Why wait until now to change your mind?’

Dalliah looked up at the surrounding souls. There was no reason to lie, so she answered honestly. ‘I was naive,’ she said. ‘The bonemen came to me for help. I helped them. I did not have the same sense of conscience that they held at the time. They never forgave me for what I made them do. The ones who survived could not overcome the grief of turning against their own people, and when the High Council claimed Fume as their capital the bonemen refused to fight. Those who lived through the wardens’ attack abandoned their work and fell back into the edges of ordinary life. I have paid the price for what I did then, but none of it would have been necessary if the veil had not been tested to its very limit. That is something you would need to ask your ancestors about. Having their souls bound to a tower, gradually being forgotten by
their own blood, does not even begin to compare to the world that I have seen. It is time one of the Winters realised what true suffering is like.’

The ground shook violently and two skulls tumbled from the upper reaches of the walls, smashing to dust between Kate and Dalliah.

‘This is where it will happen,’ said Dalliah. ‘The veil will fall here. I have seen it. You cannot prevent it.’

Kate had been given plenty of time to consider what she was going to do in that tower during her journey there, but now that the moment had come to announce her decision the words were harder to say than she had expected.

‘Why would I want to prevent it?’ She was surprised by the steadiness of her voice. ‘I am a Winters. These souls are my family. This is my cause now.’

She stepped on to the spirit wheel and the central tile rocked slightly beneath her boots. When she had walked into that tower she had known she would never leave it. The need to be there was too strong. She did not know what Dalliah had ‘seen’, but she knew her only defence was to take control. Silas had once told her that intention was everything when dealing with the veil. If Dalliah forced her to manipulate it against her will, her connection would be erratic and weak. She had to step forward. She had to face whatever was to come with a clear mind and retain as much influence over it as possible.

Her eyes blackened as she stood on the wheel. She could already feel her soul ebbing away, thread by thread. It was like falling asleep, only instead of exhaustion her
body felt as if it was sinking into icy water, numbing her senses from her toes to the tips of her fingers. The outer tiles flushed a deep dark red and the souls around her dimmed to barely the faintest glow. Dalliah looked on, surprised. She had not expected Kate to participate willingly.

‘The city is under attack,’ she said, excitement shining in her deathly eyes. ‘The blood of battle will draw the veil even closer.’

‘I know what to do,’ said Kate.

‘This is the final wheel to break. The bonemen and I
prevented
the veil from falling five hundred years ago. There is no way to know what will happen when it truly does fall.’

‘Then we should get on with it,’ said Kate. ‘And find out.’

She made sure her feet were firmly upon the central tile. Her mind was racing, warning her that it was not too late. She could still run. She could take her chances and break free from the fear that Dalliah might actually be right about the course of her life.

Kate did not believe in destiny. Standing there, surrounded by souls who had once shared her blood, all she believed in was chaos. No one could predict the path their life would take. Nothing was that simple, or that cruel. Everyone was free to make their own choices and react to events in their own way, otherwise what was the point in life? So long as the veil was in turmoil, everything was under threat. This was her only chance to stop Dalliah from damaging the fragile balance that had existed across
Albion for centuries. It was her only chance to put right what her ancestors had got so terribly wrong.

‘I’m ready,’ she said.

Dalliah opened her bag of papers and pulled out a cloth-wrapped package. It was the package the disguised Blackwatch agent had given her at the eastern gate, and inside it was a blade that Kate had seen before. A sharp dagger made of pure green glass. The same blade Da’ru Marr had used on the Night of Souls. The memory of that night haunted Kate as the glass glimmered in the spirit light.

‘I gave this to Da’ru when she first began to serve me,’ said Dalliah. ‘I thought she would be standing here with me tonight. Your presence is far more than I had hoped for.’

‘The veil obviously does not get everything right,’ said Kate.

Dalliah let the bitterness pass. ‘Your blood alone will not be enough for this wheel,’ she said, standing at the edge of the tiles holding the blade in her right hand. ‘The process requires a living soul, a powerful soul, to focus the veil’s collapse, right here in this room. For that to happen, your body must die.’

‘I know,’ said Kate. ‘Do it.’

She looked into Dalliah’s eyes and saw a flicker of hesitation. Dalliah was about to conduct the ultimate experiment. She was preparing to tear apart the threads of the veil and expose the whole of Albion to its secrets and she had no idea what to expect. Dalliah had lived her life with complete confidence in the veil’s predictions, but in
that moment Kate saw that she had doubts. This was her final chance to regain her soul. If it failed, she would have nothing. She would be forced to live on, without hope. Kate’s blood would either set her free, or condemn her. All she had to do was strike.

‘Kate!’

Kate looked away from Dalliah’s blade and saw Artemis standing hunched in the doorway. His clothes were tinged with frost where they had been soaked and frozen by the night air. He was leaning heavily on a stick and holding a book at his side.

‘Don’t do this, Kate.’ Artemis was out of breath, but he was strong enough to cross the tower floor and tall enough to stand beside Dalliah eye to eye. ‘Not her,’ he said to Dalliah. ‘It doesn’t have to be her.’

Dalliah assessed the shabby-looking intruder carefully. ‘You are the uncle,’ she said.

‘Artemis Winters, yes. It doesn’t have to be her.’ He held the book up and Kate saw that it was
Wintercraft
, dry and untouched by the water that should have ruined it. ‘She is not the book bearer,’ said Artemis. ‘I am.’

Any hesitation Dalliah might have felt filtered away as she smiled at the man.

‘This is not her job,’ he said slowly. ‘She has to survive.’

‘You are not one of us,’ said Dalliah, checking his eyes for any sign of the Skill.

‘No. But I am a Winters. Kate’s blood is my blood. She has risked too much for me. I should be the one standing there.’

‘You are not what I need,’ said Dalliah.

‘Please! Listen to me. I know what you are. I know you have a connection to something I can never understand, but I have tried to protect Kate all her life. I have made bad choices. I have put her in danger, and this . . .’ – he held
Wintercraft
in front of him as if its pages were on fire – ‘this has led her here, to this place. To this . . . this shrine to everything that should have long been forgotten. This is my burden, not hers. That blade is mine.’

Kate stepped off the circle and placed herself between Artemis and Dalliah. ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘I know what I’m doing.’

‘I watched the wardens attack the bookshop the night they took your parents away,’ said Artemis. ‘I left you hiding in the cellar – a five year old! – and I ran. I ran when I could have helped them. I
should
have helped them. I should have been there for our family. I won’t leave you now.’

‘That was years ago,’ said Kate. ‘It doesn’t matter now.’

‘And when the Skilled wanted to lock you away, I said nothing. I let them do it, Kate, and I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. Let me do this for you. I know this is right.’

‘How touching,’ said Dalliah.

Kate had not heard Dalliah move, but she was already behind Artemis. In one long horrifying second, Kate realised that something terrible had happened.

Artemis dropped his stick and grabbed Kate’s arm as his face began to fall. Kate managed to hold his weight until his knees buckled. Dalliah stepped back and beads of blood trailed along the floor from the green glass blade.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Artemis, the words catching in his throat.

Kate reached out to the healing energies of the veil to help him, but found only emptiness. The influence of Dalliah and the vicious souls within the tower prevented the veil from answering her.

‘Help him!’ she shouted, partly to Dalliah and partly to her ancestors, who were watching impassively as Dalliah claimed another Winters life. ‘He’s not one of the Skilled. He doesn’t believe in
any
of this.’

‘He does now,’ said Dalliah.

The souls of Kate’s family were whispering around her, distracting her, calling Artemis’s spirit into their stony prison. Kate tried desperately to stop the bleeding, but the wound was too deep. He had lost too much blood, and she could feel the final fluttering beats of his dying heart as he lay on his side with
Wintercraft
still in his hand.

There was no way to help him. No way to stop the horror that Dalliah had caused. Artemis’s blood seeped into the cracks in the spirit wheel as Kate rested his head on her lap, clutching him gently as his soul lifted away.

‘Any Winters blood can open the wheel,’ said Dalliah, holding the still dripping dagger at her side. ‘Now you will do as you promised and finish this.’ She leaned down and dragged Kate up by her hair, forcing her on to the spirit wheel. ‘Your family has sacrificed one to finish their work; they will gladly sacrifice another.’

Kate searched for Artemis’s spirit among the others, but there was no way to know where it had gone. She could feel his blood winding beneath the stones, burning
through the connection between the soul in the wheel and the binding that kept it in place. Tendrils of shadow reached upwards, darkening and choking the wheel beneath her and forcing Kate to step back.

The Winters spirits watched in silence.

The black was drawing in.

‘And the last wheel shall be broken,’ said Dalliah, quietly reciting memorised words out loud. ‘Winters blood shall stain the stones and the veil will crack. Thunder will call across the wild lands. The dead shall walk free and the lost shall find their way. The eyes of the living will open. The worlds of soul and bone shall become one.’

Kate felt numb. She looked down at Artemis’s body. ‘Please,’ she whispered to him. ‘Please don’t go.’

The destructive energy of the black spread around the spirit wheel, rising up to claim the soul that was sealed inside. Kate’s senses deadened as it emerged. Everything sounded hollow; her sight became blurred. The black smoke swirled around the outer tiles of the wheel, absorbing sound and light: reflecting nothing but emptiness back into the living world. But instead of sinking away when it was done, the cloud lingered. The soul was resisting.

Dalliah knocked her coat behind her and knelt down over the wheel. ‘This is no time for your family to be stubborn,’ she said. ‘The last soul must die!’ She pulled Kate down and pressed her hand into the centre of the wheel, but nothing changed.

‘You killed Artemis for nothing,’ said Kate, backing away.

‘His blood is strong, but his soul was weak,’ said Dalliah. ‘He gave his own life willingly.’

Kate’s grief twisted into rage. ‘He is dead because of you. You can help me bring him back!’

‘I won’t do that.’

‘And I can’t let you do this,’ said Kate.

‘You are here to serve me,’ said Dalliah, standing up, unconcerned by Kate’s defiance. ‘Your family and I have an understanding. Your spirit will free us all. I will get what I want.’

‘These souls are not my family,’ said Kate. ‘Families do not abandon each other when they are needed most. They fight for one another. They protect each other. They do not do
this
.’ She pointed down at Artemis’s body. ‘They may have once shared my blood, but they are
not
my family.’

‘Be careful, Kate. The dead are listening.’

The force of Kate’s anger seeped into the walls. Her spirit reached out and connected suddenly with the soul that was still inside the wheel. An image flickered behind her eyes and she saw through the spirit’s eyes at the moment of its physical death.
He was lying on his back with a brown-robed boneman standing over him, and a blade
stabbed down into his chest as a younger Dalliah looked on. Kate felt the man’s spirit sink into the wheel, but part of it was torn away. He resisted the full binding and tore his own soul in two, sending half of himself into the stones and half into the purple-covered book that would be carried through his family for generations. The book pulsed with energy as his body died, but no one present had known what he had done
.