The Immortal Storm (Sky Chaser Book 1) (23 page)

52
One More Promise

Time ticked by slowly in the cabin. An hour became two. Then three. Lightning lashed the outer hull, chasing shadows into the corners of the cabin. At one point Kite thought he heard the whirl of an engine between crashes of thunder. A stormwing? The
Windspear
? Perhaps he'd imagined it. He couldn't be certain of anything anymore.

His wired mind rattled with the things Fleer had told him. Jumbled up theories and fears, a swirling mess that refused to settle. One thing, however, was clear to him. Fleer Nightborn had committed herself fully to Shelvocke's mad plan.

Another knock at the door. Drumlin unlocked it and smacked his lips.

“About time, Birdy,” he said, taking a tray of tea things.

Birdy leaned in. Kite hadn’t realised how much he’d missed Birdy’s mischievous grin.

“Best place for that one if you ask me, Sarge,” Birdy said, giving Kite a secretive wink. “Nayward's been nothing but bad luck since he came on board.”

Of-course Drumlin missed it. He was too busy giving Kite his own evil look to notice. “Aye, Welkin'll still be alive for a start,” Drumlin said.

Kite looked away, pretending to ignore them both. What was Birdy was up to?

Soon the door had been locked again and Drumlin resumed his post, tucking into his ration pack biscuits. He dunked a trio in his mug of tea and slurped them down luxuriously. Then Drumlin began to squint and frown. He dropped the mug.

“You…you treacherous little bastard,” Drumlin growled, struggling to his feet.

Kite wondered what had turned the man so hostile. Uncertain he watched Drumlin stagger wildly for the door, fumbling for the key on his belt. He dropped it. Blinking into the distance Drumlin swayed back and forth. Then his legs gave way under him and crumpled into a heap, his fat backside stuck in the air. Soon he was snoring.

Now alone Kite wondered what was going to happen next. Luckily he didn't have to wait long to find out.

A key clattered home clumsily. The door clicked open and jammed against Drumlin's bulk. With a mighty heave Birdy squeezed in, tonguing with concentration. He nudged Drumlin with his boot to make double sure he wouldn't be troubling them then he undid Kite's straps.

“What's going on?” Kite whispered, once Birdy had removed the gag.

“Top secret mission, no time,” said Birdy, ushering him to the door. “Hurry, they're waiting.”

Kite nodded to Drumlin who was still out cold on the tiles, merrily blowing bubbles. “What about him?”

“Doctor said he’ll have the squits for a few days but he’ll be fine,” Birdy said, slipping into the corridor. “This way, hurry.”

Kite limped after him on legs full of nails, grimacing with each painful step. He had no idea where Birdy was leading him. Along a companionway and into a dimly-lit corridor of hissing pipes and burping valves. Up into parts of the fulgurtine he'd never seen or even heard of before. On the way Birdy brought him up to speed.

“Shelvocke's paranoid, doesn't trust any of us now,” Birdy explained in a hushed voice. “He's locked down the Hangar Deck. Clinker reckons he's gone mad. We'd better go this way. Up here. Come on.”

The hammer blows of the
Phosphene
's Engine Room shuddered the gantry Kite's under his boots. That put him aft of the structure, somewhere up near the Main Deck. Surely Birdy wasn't taking him up top. Not in this storm.

Soon they came to a lantern-lit service way. A cold narrow tunnel with a tight wheel-locked hatch at the end and fat ducts lining its walls.

Birdy stepped in. “Doc?” he called.

Dr.Nightborn emerged from her hiding place behind the ducts. She was wrapped in her Hiemal furs and seemed on edge.

“Thank you Joseph,” Dr.Nightborn said, laying a hand on Birdy's shoulder. “I will never doubt you again.”

Birdy scuffed his boots. “Ah, it was nothing,” he said.

Kite could see Dr.Nightborn was deeply troubled. “Fleer's gone hasn't she?” he asked her.

Dr.Nightborn hugged her arms. “I'll never forgive William for this,” she said, shaking her head. “He sent her on her own. She's taken that
thing
with her. Ray saw it.”

Everything Fleer told him made sense now. Ember must have given Shelvocke the location of the Cloud Room. Kite couldn't help but feel a little betrayed.

Birdy raised a hand. “Someone’s coming,” he hissed.

Heavy boots slapped down the corridor. Kite dashed in front of Dr.Nightborn, ready to defend her. But it wasn't one of Shelvocke’s men but a red-faced, sweat pimpled Clinker. He leaned against the wall, puffing for air, a big canvas bundle slung over one shoulder.

“You know
technically
this is called mutiny,” the Chief said and set the canvas down with a resounding clang. “How do, lad?”

“Brought me a gift?” Kite said, nodding.

Clinker grinned and his copper wire mutton chops bristled. He unwrapped the bundle revealing Welkin's repaired stormwing and a jumble of hastily-packed equipment. Kite's heart jumped just seeing the airmachine again.

“I've given the 'wing a wee bit of an overhaul,” Clinker said with a hint of pride. “There's four corpusants in there now. Booster's got some extra kick so go easy on it. You're going to need it out there.”

Dr.Nightborn placed her hands on his shoulders. “Kite, I know this will be dangerous for you,” she said, her voice breaking with emotion. “And I am being so very selfish.”

“I'll find her, I promise,” Kite said, hoping he sounded positive but he couldn't disguise the uncertainty in his voice. “Try not to worry all right?”

Without warning Dr.Nightborn pulled him close. “That is what mothers do I’m afraid,” she whispered, holding him tightly.

For a few precious seconds Kite was warm and unafraid. No evil in the world could ever hurt him again. He imagined his own mother's arms must've felt something like this.

“Best get you kitted out, lad,” Clinker said.

The Chief quickly got to work, buckling the harness over Kite’s patchcoat and then fitting the precious rebreather unit to the belt.

“When the gauge gets
here
,” Clinker said and tapped the red line on a pressure gauge, “no higher. No ifs and buts, any higher and your blood’ll boil. Got that?”

“Roger that, Chief,” Kite said.

“Here's some water and some jellyroot,” said Clinker, packing Kite's belt pouches. “Take plenty of both. They'll keep you from going all dizzy up there.”

“Thanks, Chief,” Kite said. “Which way was Fleer headed?”

“South-east,” Clinker said and shrugged. “That's all I know, lad.”

With that Clinker ushered to the hatch where Birdy clipped one end of a shortened safety-line to the stormwing's railing and the other to Kite's belt.

“We're still on the edge of the Thundergrounds,” Birdy said, tugging on the safety-line. “It’ll be a rough take off. Try not to fall right? Long way down. Arghhh - squish!”

Kite gave him a look. That was hardly helping his nerves.

“Ah, you'll be all right, you're a natural,” Birdy said, without a hint of sarcasm. He gripped the hatch-wheel with both hands. “Ready then, Sky Chaser?”

Kite didn't know about ready. This plan, if you could call this a plan, was madness. He looked back at the four of them. The importance of his mission was written on their shadow-grim faces; Clinker and Birdy, Dr.Nightborn and Shelvocke.

Shelvocke.

53
Into The Storm

Shelvocke stepped carefully from the shadows. He had a long-barrelled shockrifle aimed at them. A single mosfire round flickering inside its glass chamber. Enough of a charge to shock them all into paralysis. He looked at them in turn, lingering on Kite just long enough to make his disgust clear.

“You have become quite the liability, Nayward,” Shelvocke said. “I am beginning to regret not leaving you to rot in Port Howling. Move away from the hatch if you please.”

But Kite was no longer afraid of Shelvocke, only what the Weatheren might do to his friends. But not even that could force him to obey Shelvocke now. He squeezed his fists until his knuckles stung.

“I won't,” he said.

“Stubborn as always,” Shelvocke said. There was a pneumatic click and the shockrifle was armed.

Clinker stepped forward, his big fists of hanging heavy as sledgehammers at his side. “You and me go back a long way, Cap'n,” he said. “But you ain't going to threaten the lad with that spark shooter of yours.”

“You disappoint me, Mr.Clinker,” Shelvocke said. As he spoke he was watching Kite. There was loathing in his eyes. “I expected more loyalty from you of all people.”

“This ain't about loyalty,” Clinker said. “That
thing
nearly sank us all. Who knows what it might do out there. It ain't right, Cap'n.”

“It's a little late to be developing a conscience don't you think?” Shelvocke said, giving Clinker a withering look. “The Murkers are at war with the Foundation, unless you had forgotten.”

“I used to think that too, Captain,” said Clinker, sighing heavily. “But now I'm beginning to realise this is your war. Not ours.”

Kite spotted Birdy's fingers tightening on the rust-flecked hatch-wheel. The lad gave him a darting glance. Kite quickly read his intention - be ready.

But Shelvocke had seen them. “I wouldn't' recommend you try anything, Mr.Birdy,” he said. “Stand away from the hatch, both of you. Count this as your final warning.”

Slowly, Dr.Nightborn walked forward. She stood shoulder to shoulder with Clinker, halving Kite's view of Shelvocke's shadow-hard face.

“Where have you sent my daughter?” Dr.Nightborn demanded.

Shelvocke watched her cautiously. “I haven't sent her anywhere, Doctor,” he said. “Please stand aside and -”

“Don't you dare lie to me!”

Dr.Nightborn didn't shout but somehow her voice swelled to fill the narrow metal tunnel. Shelvocke gave her an uncertain look.

“Fleer undertook the mission of her own free will,” he replied, but it sounded more like a feeble excuse rather than an explanation. Even if it was true.

Dr.Nightborn took a dangerous step closer to the shockrifle. “And that is enough to satisfy your conscience?” she said.

The shockrifle began to rattle in Shelvocke's hands, beads of sweat sparkled on his knotted brow. “Clearly, you do not know your own daughter, Doctor,” he said.

“I know my daughter well enough,” Dr.Nightborn said, without a flicker of fear. “I know her heart full of sadness and anger. Though I have tried it is a sickness I cannot heal. Do you remember what you told me when I came aboard? You said you could help me save Fleer from herself. And I believed you. I trusted you. But all you have done, all this time, is exploit her.”

The shockrifle was now aimed at Dr.Nightborn’s heart. Yet somehow Kite wasn't afraid for Dr.Nightborn’s safety. He knew she'd be safe.

Shelvocke's finger twitched on the firing lever. They were staring at each other, the Captain and his Doctor. But only one of them had any real power.

“You are a coward, William Shelvocke,” Dr.Nightborn said and she struck him across the cheek, sending him flailing pathetically against the bulkhead. The shockrifle flipped from his hands and clattered to the deck.

“Now Birdy!” Clinker bellowed.

With all his strength Birdy spun the wheel and the hatch thumped open. Rain crackled against Kite's patchcoat. He hauled the stormwing out onto the gantry, staggering against the hard-edged wind. With a rubbery thump the hatch smacked shut against his back.

For a few disorientating seconds Kite found himself staring into an oil-black nothingness and a shocking silence filled with the
thump-thump-thump
of his throat-trapped heartbeat. Then lightning slashed with elemental fury and thunder crunched into his numb ribs. Quickly he tried to get his bearings. Torrents of silver rain glistened on the
Phosphene
's armour above and to his left. Turbines chopped the heavy air against his back. He was on the starboard side, facing the bow.

Kite unfolded the wings, hands slipping on the rain-slick metal. All the while he tried not to think about what might be happening beyond the hatch. Planting his boots on the stormwing's deck he got himself ready. Goggles, scarf, rebreather mask. Everything was snug and in place. He had to go. And go now.

Kite started her up. At once the stormwing leapt off the gantry. He hurtled backward, the awesome power from her four corpusants catching him off-guard. Banking the wings he managed to clear the turbines, the turbulence hitting him like a wall. For a furious moment the stormwing spun out of control, but Kite doggedly regained control and brought her level.

In the lightning and rain Kite watched the
Phosphene's
battered hulk slowly vanish into the thunderheads. He thought of the friends he'd left behind and wondered if he’d ever see them again. Soon the stern lights were nothing more than ragged smears on his vision.

Kite wiped the rain from his goggle-glass. He still had Welkin's compass watch  in his patchcoat pocket. As he opened the case, the lightning lit up the dial and the golden eye gleamed in the dark like a beacon.

The Corrector's words came back to him then. The eye always pointed to Fairweather she’d told him. Kite quickly realised the terrible significance of that speck of knowledge.

Shelvocke had sent Fleer south-east.

South-east to Fairweather.