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I breathed the island deeply into myself. I wanted to take it in, inhale it, drink it, the whole island, until it became part of me. I felt organized and in control. Alone on the mountain I lost all sense of self, and the troubles that drove me to use cat went too. The Castle was an ocean away. How brilliant, I was still immortal with none of the risks. I wanted to stay alone on the mountainside forever, until eventually with no self left and no thoughts at all I would merge with the landscape. In my haven there was no need for language or communication. For a few hours I was free from the sickly need to identify, classify and name with words every single thing.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I returned to the Melowne very early next morning and had a wash with sponge and pitcher. I decided to go back to sleep until the call should come from Lightning or Mist to engage me in another day’s frantic business with spice merchants and jewelers, and with the host of fishermen-turned-salesmen. They seemed determined to swap everything they owned for our damask steel or a handful of arrows.
I was woken by loud yells and battering on the cabin door. “Comet! Help! Quickly!”
From the tone of Fulmer’s snappy voice, I knew something terrible had happened. “What? If it’s a mutiny I’m on your side!” I stooped and wound a sheet around my waist like a sarong, then opened the door.
Fulmer stood on the half-deck, wearing only his trousers. Over his shoulder I saw the cloudless sky, the façade of Capharnaum’s white villas, green shutters and balconies, the merchants waiting on the quay in a stu
Fulmer pointed. The Insect was poised on the gangplank. Between it and the quayside stood Wre
I dived back into the cabin and picked up my ice axe. Then I shoved past Fulmer to the rack of equipment beside my door. I snatched a long boathook and hefted it, at the same time yelling to Fulmer, “Run down the other walkway! Go to Petrel. Wake Lightning and tell him to shoot it! You must knock very loudly. Quick!”
Fulmer slid down the ladder and slipped across the main deck. I saw bodies lying at u
With a cold self-awareness I spread my wings, wiggled my ice axe into the folded top of my impromptu sarong, and found the right words to shout at the thirty or forty Capharnai: “Run away! Go home! It will bite you!”
Holding the boathook shaft across my body like a weightlifter, I vaulted the railings. I plummeted straight down past the blue porthole shutters, reached flying speed and hurtled once around the ship’s hull to build up momentum. I skimmed the figurehead and up over the forecastle deck for a straight run at the Insect. I jinked to miss the foremast, by pulling in my right wing and spi
I swept over the Insect. I reached out with the boathook and put my full strength behind it as I swung.
The Insect’s gold-brown compound eyes wrapped around its head and joined at the top with bristly margins. It could see in all directions. It saw me passing above and bent its six knees to squat down. It flattened its body flush against the gangplank, beaded ante
I missed and struggled to lift the hook as it glided toward Wre
Wre
Its hooked claws stabbed at Wre
He followed the moves of its four claws and mandibles all at once, every cut the Insect scrabbled at him. But his totally inadequate rapier clicked and slid over its cuticle-it wasn’t heavy enough to bite into the shell.
He thrust his blade past the base of one ante
The Insect took a step toward him and the blade slid into its body. Fluid the color and consistency of cream welled up around the blade and trickled down its shell but the Insect did not react. It crawled toward Wre
The sword point burst from its back, pushing out a length of cream-streaked steel. It forced itself down the blade until the hilt was flush against its thorax. It stooped to bite Wre
I cleared the height of the foredeck, came in fast.
Wre
My wings shadowed his head. “Here!” I dangled the pole from its very end. He had enough sense to drop his hilt and jump for the brass hook speeding toward him. I let go and passed it to him.
Our contact caused a drag that slowed me down too much and slewed me to the left. The quayside rushed up; I saw the pavement cracks. Too big, too close! I was going to crash! I leaned right and beat down-my wingtips smacked a crate of oranges. The shock transmitted through my feather shafts and hurt my fingers. I pulled out of my dive; the crate tops scraped my knees and feet. I flapped, stubbing my wings. I banked up steeply, groaning with effort, my feathers rasping the air.
I glanced at Wre
Its barreling bulk threw Wre
I glanced at the crowd; their faces were full of doubt and disbelief. The Insect was real; this was no drama laid on for entertainment. It was coming down the gangplank. About half of them trotted backward, still staring, then turned and fled for the streets. The rest seemed frozen. Those not gaping at the Insect were gawking at me.