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Even in her bruised and locked-down state, Madeleine couldnot simply jump off a building. Clutching the straps of her backpack, she peered at the array of roofsdoubtfully.
"I'll be going first." Fisher bent to study the beams below theglass floor. "Looks like this willbe structurally sound without the railing, but stand back while I make agap."
"I'll do it."
Fisher hesitated, then moved away, silently acknowledging thepower differential between them. Hewould need to save his strength.
The vertical sections of metal railing were thick and solid,but a couple of well-aimed finger punches easily took care of the narrowhorizontal bar joining them. A tinypiece of metal remained co
"Practice again," Fisher said, still maintainingthe crisp, businesslike tone which made it bearable to be near him. "Get a feel for it at full size."
On another day, even with the two upright posts to hold,standing on the edge of such a drop would have had Madeleine gulping, trying toconvince herself the floor wasn't tilting. But this night, in sight of the Spire, she was only allowing herself tothink of her friends, of Noi down there needing rescue. And of carrying out the plan Théoden had diedto set in motion.
Narrowing her eyes, she raised a shield a few metres in frontof her, then began to thin and shape it, so it became a massive curve facingaway from her, hopefully matching the form Fisher claimed would help hercontrol direction. It was difficult tobe sure: she had never tried anything like this with her shields, and itsnear-invisibility made the process a kind of mental sculpture, theoreticallyproducing a combination between a sled and an oversized paraglider. The wind tugged at her, the tiny gustsuddenly immensely powerful, so she hastily released the shield and moved back.
"Okay," she said.
"Because of the size, your descent should be slow,allowing you time to experiment with steering. It can be more responsive than a parachute, given you'll be on top, andcan alter it at will. Do you think youcan change the shape quickly?"
"Maybe." This still involved jumping off a building.
"If you find this too difficult to control, try shiftingto the more triangular glider shape I showed you. Even if you panic and let the shield drop,just make another, as large as possible as fast as you can. It doesn't need to be complex – anythinglarge will give you the drag to slow down." He paused. "If you can't do it, signal once I've landed, and I'll get the liftkey and come for you."
She almost looked at him, then made the tiniest negativemotion with her head. "I canmanage."
"I'll see you down there, then," he said, voicemomentarily flattening. He stepped intothe gap, holding the upright supports tightly. Wind ruffled his mop of hair, and with barely a pause he tipped forward,and vanished.
Catching her breath, Madeleine clutched the railing, and inthe night-time shadows spotted him only because he was falling, slowing as shewatched. He must not have spread theshield till he was well on his way. Conserving his strength. Hecurved toward the hotel, the movement controlled, effortless. She lost sight of him in the gloom as hecircled, then saw a tiny shape pass over the lighted rectangle of the rooftoppool.
Seeing how quickly and easily Fisher had managed somehow madeit worse for Madeleine. There was no wayshe could swoop down like that. Jump offa building and work out how to fly, all in an easy two-step process? Maintain a shaped shield while falling? No matter how strong she was, that was beyondany reasonable learning curve. She'd endup slamming into the support shaft of Sydney Tower, or zooming off toward theSpire. Or dropping like a stone.
Her hands on the cold railing felt slick and damp, and sheshivered in the late autumn chill. Impossible. Beyond impossible.
Noi. Sherepeated the name out loud. Noi downthere, possessed by one of the Five. Theneed to bring her back was a rock-hard certainty, a promise never quite spoken. Noi, and Emily, Min, Nash, Pan. Lee Rickard would certainly have something tosay about being able to fly beneath the stars.
She raised her shield, working quickly, having learned thepower of even a tiny wind. Thepossibility of being dragged off her feet helped, because it meant she couldnot keep standing there, clutching the railing uprights.
"Straight on till morning," she breathed,and tilted forward.
Chapter Twenty-Two
There was no plunge. Madeleine glided with soap bubble ease, the sensation almost that ofsliding over ice, the shield beneath her far more responsive than she'danticipated. She shifted it a degree, aseasily as moving a mental arm, and the glide became a leisurely swoop towardCentral Station.
Glorious!
Unhurriedly, for she was still very high, Madeleine attemptedto follow Fisher's instructions, and made a minor adjustment to the shape, acurling of one corner, taking care to keep her changes small. She curved to the left, circling over theAnzac Memorial at the southern end of Hyde Park, and drifted back. The hotel was a good place to aim for, withits distinctive terraces and long upper roof. Still too far below to hope to land, but if she went south again andlined herself up as if for a runway, she would have plenty of opportunity tocorrect her height, and face far less risk of overshooting.
The city spun below her, reduced to blockish shapes andstreaking lights. The Spire was a slimshadow ahead to her right, Sydney Tower a shorter rival to the left. Blobbish lumpsbelow were all she could make out of Hyde Park's trees, which were far too lowto pose any danger of collision, and provided a simple line to use as aguide. The hotel's long roof was notentirely flat, had some kind of air-conditioning plant on top, but that waslong and flat as well, and she dropped to a mere leg-breaking distance as thenear edge of the long centre building approached. Passing above four large fans, she lifted alittle to barely clear a white circular projection, then swooped down the lastfew feet to the surface of the roof, contracting her shield so that her landingwas a little fast, but obligingly bouncy.
Done. Face-down onconcrete, arms spread wide, safe. Sherolled onto her back and stared up at a foreshortened view of two towers. Had he known how that flight would make herfeel? Lined up this domino, knowing shewould desperately need to be uplifted? It had helped, so much. Théoden,all that she felt, was still a roil of confusion and grief, but the barbed wirehad rusted through. It was gratitudewhich blurred the stars.
The recollection that she was lying on the roof of a hotelfull of possessed Blues prodded her to movement. She scrambled to her feet and padded softlyto the north end of the section of roof. The curve of the pool room roof was a lighted jewel below, and Fisherwaited just before it, a so-familiar silhouette. Kneeling, she reversed, dangled and droppeddown off the plant level, noticing deep scrapes in the concrete as she letgo. The Core must land his dragon upthere.
Another drop and she was beside the pool, Fisher turning asif to take her arm, then stopping short. But Madeleine had found the strength to keep herself focused on hergoals, and was not thrown by the near touch.
"Were there cameras monitoring me?" shewhispered. "Will the Moths knowwhat's happened?"
"There were cameras, just not enough. They can't see the place where Théoden is,and will only know that you have gone up on the roof with what they will thinkis him. They can tell a possessed Bluefrom a non-possessed, but not through a camera image."