The Immortal Storm (Sky Chaser Book 1) (22 page)

50
Restored Memories

Kite clung on to the railing. His bones seemed heavy as old metal. The pressure change bottled in his ears, making him dizzy and unsteady. He swallowed repeatedly but it made no difference. The
Phosphene
was falling from the sky.

“Ember!” he cried. “Stop this!”

“When stormy is the weather and thunder shakes the sky...” Over and over, Ember's rhyme fed from the speakers.

Back-up emergency lights had snapped on, sinking the crew into blood coloured shadows. The control panels flashed with dire warnings. Kite didn't need to read them to know they only had minutes...

“We have to destroy the doll!” Fleer shouted.

“No! Stay where you are, Lieutenant,” Shelvocke ordered, his hand out to halt her. He looked awe-struck. “Don't you realise what she is? Even after all these years she can take over EREBUS. She's a miracle.”

Kite grabbed the handrail to steady himself, shivering in the sudden cold. His vision juddered. Clouds tore by the observation window at an terrifying angle. Unless Ember could be stopped they would all die.

“Ember! Listen to me! You still want to go to the Cloud Room don't you?” he shouted.

“... and thunder shook the sky. The children of the sun will ask the question why....”

“I said I'd take you didn't I?” he said. “I can't take you if I'm dead.”

“When stormy is...d-dead?” Ember said, tilting her head.

“If the Phosphene crashes I'm dead,” Kite said. “You don't want that do you? We're friends aren't we?”

“But you lied, Kite Nayward,” Ember said, eyes softening to a deepest purple. “You broke your promise. How can I forgive you?”

Kite held up his hands. “I'm not asking you too. But I was wrong wasn't I? The Cloud Room isn't in Skyzarke,” he said, shivering in the icy cold. “You know where it is don't you?”

The eyes turned a light purple-pink. “Yes,” said Ember. “I remember now.”

The Nav Deck systems came back online. The pressure in his temples loosened a little. The
Phosphene
slowly began to pull out of her fatal descent.

“We've dropped two thousand feet,” Shelvocke said, reading from the screens. “She's flying for us at least.”

Clinker, Birdy and Dr.Nightborn staggered onto the Nav Deck, grappling for handholds against the
Phosphene
's cant. Kite glanced at them, but only Dr.Nightborn seemed to understand what Ember appearance meant.

“I remember everything, Kite Nayward,” Ember said, her eyes fading to a melancholy blue. “Arcus was
her
father. The city was under siege by the Foundation's weather machines and had already begun to freeze.
She
died. All the children died. In the ice, frozen.”

Kite remembered the hollow faces preserved for eternity in the frozen waves of the lake. Thinking of this girl trapped forever in the ice made his stomach pinch.

“She died the day the ice came from the sky,” Ember continued. “The day the lake and the ships froze and all the children on the shore froze too.”

“That poor child,” Dr.Nightborn said.

Ember’s ghost gave Kite a sorrowful look. “Arcus wanted me to be her once more. A living memory. He gave her memories to me and put me in that stupid, little doll,” she said. “He told me what I must do. Find the Cloud Room and the one who hides there. And destroy him. Only then will I be real again.”

Shelvocke stepped closer. “Tell us how to reach the Cloud Room, Ember,” he said.

Ember turned on the air. “You cannot reach the Cloud Room in this airmachine,” she said. “And I don't trust you,
Weatheren
.”

But Shelvocke wasn't so easily discouraged. “You
can
trust me, Ember. I've already promised, remember?” he said, making the cross-your-heart gesture. “I
always
keep my promises. Just tell me where the Cloud Room is.”

Dr.Nightborn turned to Kite and shook her head. She knew, as he did, that Shelvocke already thinking of ways to use Ember's power.

“Remember our deal, Ember,” Kite said.

Ember tilted her head. “Our deal, Kite Nayward?” she asked.

Shelvocke gave him a dark look. “Silence that mouth of yours, Nayward,” he hissed, his hands becoming fists. “That's an order.”

Orders
. Kite snorted. He’d never been very good at following them, especially from a Weatheren. “You remember,” he said, fearlessly. “You only speak to -”

Growling like a mad man Shelvocke snatching a handful of Kite's patchcoat and drew back his fist, ready to strike. Kite didn’t flinch.

Dr.Nightborn stepped forward. “William!” she cried. “Stop this!”

Shelvocke hesitated. He was shaking with rage. Slowly, he lowered his fist but he didn't let go. “On my vessel, Nayward, when I tell you to do something you damn well do it,” Shelvocke said, his face ragged with sweat. “Your stupidity cost me a good man today. I won't have you risking our mission again. Another word and you'll find yourself marooned in the Wildemark.”

Kite stared back. The temptation was to utter something defiant, but he knew Shelvocke meant what he said.

“Mr.Clinker,” Shelvocke said, pushing Kite away from him. “Get him out of my sight.”

Dr.Nightborn laid her hand on Clinker's arm. “Stay were you are, Ray,” she said and surprisingly Clinker did as she asked.

Shelvocke chuckled humourlessly. “Well, congratulations Nayward,” he said. “Looks like you've started something of a little mutiny.”

Fleer gave her mother the foulest look imaginable. All the while she continued to stand shoulder to shoulder with her Captain. Kite didn't doubt
her
loyalty for one second.

“Look at yourself, William,” Dr.Nightborn said. “You've let revenge poison you. All because of this...
this
weapon.”

Shelvocke's fists shook. He stepped forward. For sickening moment Kite thought the Weatheren might turn on Dr.Nightborn too. “The bastards took my wife!” he growled. “They took your husband damn it! This is our chance, Aurora!
This
,” and he pointed to Ember, “is the chance we have been seeking all this time. A chance to strike at them for once. A chance at revenge!”

Dr.Nightborn looked appalled. “I never joined your crew for
revenge
, William,” she said. “And this Patriarch
weapon
will only cause more misery and death. You must stop this.”

Her plea hung in the brittle air. Clinker and Birdy looked at each other doubtfully. But Kite knew Shelvocke had no intention of changing his mind.

Silently the Captain turned away from Dr.Nightborn. He turned instead to Fleer.  “Lieutenant, escort Dr.Nightborn back to the Infirmary and make sure she stays there,” he said. “If I wish for her services in future, I will call for them.”

There was no hesitation. No show of conflict. Fleer simply flicked a salute and said, “Yes, Captain.”

Dr.Nightborn wasn't done. “You don't have to listen to him, Fleer,” she said. “You know this is wrong. You know what the Genetrix said. We agreed. This is not what the Vox Memoria wanted. You must see that?”

Fleer straightened at the mention of her given name. “That's
Lieutenant
Fleer,” she said and gestured to the hatch. “After you,
Doctor
.”

Dr.Nightborn looked stung, but only for a moment. She straightened her back and swiftly left the Nav Deck with Fleer marching behind her.

Shelvocke turned to the Chief. “As I recall I gave you an order, Mr.Clinker.”

Kite knew that was a challenge.

Clinker frowned a lot. Then, puffing out his chest and uttering a reluctant huff he stepped up. “Aye, Capt'n,” he grumbled and grabbed Kite's arm with an iron hand. “Sorry about this, lad. Orders is orders.”

All the while Ember floated above, bemused and detached, like a visiting deity indulging the spectacle of human conflicts. “Where are you going, Kite Nayward?” she said, as Clinker marched him from the Nav Deck.

51
Fleer's Tale

Dr.Nightborn's medicine had long-since worn off and a deep dull ache had settled into Kite's bones. Long-forgotten injuries ached and burned. His temples throbbed. All that ignored pain had finally caught up with him, leaving him exhausted and weak.

Shelvocke was taking no chances. Kite'd been trussed up like a murderer waiting for the gallows. Leather straps squeezed his wrists and ankles to the metal chair. A gag bit at the corners of his dry mouth. He could barely breathe, let alone talk. After all Shelvocke didn't want to risk him conspiring with anyone. Especially Ember.

But Ember hadn't appeared.

Kite’s cabin had become a despairing metal box. Just like the old bothy in Dusthaven that haunted his memories. When did the
Phosphene
become too small for him? More than anything he longed to escape; to return to the sky. Fleer had been right about that. Out there you were free from the weight of the world. But all of that didn't matter now. Something told Kite he'd never get to fly a stormwing again. Not if Shelvocke had anything to do with it...

By the shifting shadows Kite knew the Captain had chosen a chaotic path south. Dropping altitude then ascending once again, heading east then west, but always returning to the fury of the Thundergrounds. There'd been alerts and false alarms. Even the distant threat of fulgurtine engines, but so far the
Phosphene
had evaded the Cloudguard.

A sharp knock at the door alerted his guard.

“About bloody time too,” Drumlin growled. The dour-faced Weatheren dragged the chair to one side and unlocked the door. “Elevensies are supposed to be at eleven you - oh, Lieutenant Fleer.”

Kite glanced up. Fleer entered the cabin, weakly saluting the Sergeant. She was dressed ready for flying, her goggles pushed up uncovering the L-shaped scar beneath her fringe that Kite had given her.

“Go and get your tea, Sergeant,” she said. “I'll watch the prisoner.”

Drumlin glanced at Kite, reluctant to hand over the key. Maybe the Weatheren instinctively believed leaving two Askians alone was never a good idea.

Fleer pushed out her hand. “That's an order, Sergeant.”

“Yes,
sir
,” Drumlin replied, with about as much sincerity as he could muster and handed over the key.

Kite watched Fleer while she carefully locked the door. He tried to detect her mood but it proved impossible. Maybe she'd come to gloat. Or maybe she had something more vengeful in mind.

Fleer sat in Drumlin's chair, content at first just to sit and stare at her gloves. A minute or so passed then she lifted her chin and looked at him.

“I know mother told you what happened to me, Nayward,” she said. “But she didn't tell you everything.”

Something about her tone set Kite instantly on edge.

“Not long after Cold Bastion the Watchers found the Captain near the Lethe,” Fleer said. “He'd come alone. He gave himself up, saying he was the one who saved the girl and that he wanted to talk to us. No-one believed him of-course. They thought he was a Weatheren spy, send to find the High Hollows. The Watchers took him prisoner. Mother wanted the Vox Memoria to show mercy. They debated on it for days. All that time no-one asked me how I felt.”

Fleer slipped the hunting knife from her belt and turned the blade in her hand. Kite watched it, growing more uneasy with each passing second.

“You see, I couldn't remember who'd saved me in Cold Bastion,” Fleer continued. “Back then the Captain was just some Weatheren. He could've been anyone. Mother said he'd had shown me mercy. But I didn't want anyone's mercy. I wanted revenge. And here was this Weatheren, claiming to be an ally. Ally! As far as I was concerned he was guilty as the Cloudtrooper who'd killed my father. So I made up my mind - I'd kill him myself. They'd taken my dad, only right I took one of them. Eye for an eye. You've never killed anyone have you, Nayward?”

Kite’s pulse thumped violently in his throat. He slowly shook his head.

“No, I didn’t think so. The first time's always the hardest. I'd already decided how I'd do it,” Fleer said, scraping a gloved finger across her throat. “Just like a wolf cub. But the Watchers had already interrogated him. Helka had beaten him good. The Captain had accepted his fate by then. He seemed almost relieved when I put the knife to his neck.”

Fleer paused. Rain tapped at the porthole window. Grey shadows wriggled down her face. Or maybe they were tears, Kite couldn't tell in the dimly lit cabin.

“I wanted him to beg for his life. I wanted to see a Weatheren begging for mercy from an Askian. But he didn't beg. He said killing him wouldn't avenge our dead. It wouldn't change the fact that the Askians hide in the ice fearing the sound of thundermoth engines. And the more I listened to him, the more I realised he was right. The only way to avenge them, he said, was to cut destroy the Foundation itself. That was when he made his promise - if I spared his life he would find a way to destroy them. And he promised me I'd be the one to do it. He promised me I’d have my revenge.”

Kite waited and listened.

“So I took the knife and I cut the Captain's ropes. I took him to the bothy, left him there. He told me he would come for me once he had a ship and a crew. All I had to do was wait.” Fleer went on. “The Watchers were mad, they wanted me punished but grandmother stopped them. Saying that my compassion was honourable. Helka's never forgiven me for it. Mother said I was brave, but I just felt hollow inside. I wanted to kill him. Maybe if I had we wouldn't be in this mess.”

Then Fleer leaned forward, staring at Kite so intently he almost looked away.

“You know what happened next, Nayward?” she said. “The Cloudguard captured him in the Wildemark. The Traitor of Cold Bastion they'd started calling him. Somehow they he suspected he'd been talking to the Askians. So they took him and they tortured him. The Corrector, she was one of them. That's what they do their own. They wanted the location of the High Hollows. They wanted
us
. But no matter what they did, no matter how much they hurt him, the Captain wouldn't talk. He was too strong for them. He kept his word, Nayward. The Corrector's thought he'd been cursed by Askian witches. That's what they think the Vox Memoria are. Witches.”

Slowly, Kite began to realise why Fleer was telling him all this. She was trying to make him understand something that had always puzzled him. The reason for her loyalty to Shelvocke.

Fleer continued. “When the Correctors couldn’t break the Captain they decided to torture his wife instead. He'd been trying to keep her safe, keep her hidden. But she was a famous lady and they found her easy enough. They figured he'd tell them everything then, knowing his wife's life depended on it.”

Kite recalled the photograph of the pretty Weatheren woman he'd seen in Shelvocke's cabin.

“Only little Evelyn was fragile as a flower,” Fleer said. “She didn't last very long under the Corrector’s knives.”

Dr.Nightborn had been right. Anger and vengeance had consumed Shelvocke. Those were dark motives, ones Kite understood well enough. He also knew acting on them never led to anything good. As he'd discovered to his cost. But why was Fleer was telling him this now of all times?

Fleer straightened her back with the soft crackle of leather. “Mother wants justice,” she said. “But there's no justice with the Foundation, Nayward. You've seen what they did to us in Skyzarke. Look at what happened to Welkin. They won't be happy until we're all ghosts. The Captain's right - the doll's our best chance. We've got to strike. We'll never get a chance like this again. He's got a plan. It'll work.
I'll
make it work.”

Kite’s skin tightened with an unnatural chill. He was afraid now. Afraid of that Shelvocke had convinced Fleer that the time for her revenge had finally come.

A fist double-thumped on the door startled him.

Fleer slowly got up, wiping at the corners of her eyes. She didn't look at him again but she said, almost in a whisper, “good-bye, Nayward,” and went to unlock the door to Drumlin.

Kite knew Fleer wasn’t coming back. Somehow he had to try and stop her. But trussed up like this he was helpless. So he began rocking back and forth, until the chair began to tilt. With an awkward lunge he managed one mad hop before the chair toppled and slammed him onto the cold tiles.

Drumlin stamped over. “I told you last time don’t try anything like that again,” he said, manhandling him upright and showing his scuffed knuckles. “Sit there and shut up.”

Kite seethed, staring at the open door, but it was hopeless - Fleer was already gone.