Take Back the Skies (20 page)

‘Why, thank you. I drew them.'

Her eyebrows rose in surprise.

He smiled sheepishly, tugging at a stray curl.

‘I didn't have many friends as a sprog – except Matt, of course. I spent a lot of my time alone, drawing. Come here.' He gestured for her to enter, and she did so, watching him pull a brown paper bag from his desk drawer. He pressed it into her hands, smiling.

‘I know I said I'd get Alice to bake you a cake, but in all the chaos it completely slipped my mind. So Matt and I got you this instead.'

Reaching into the bag, Cat's face split into a wide grin as she pulled out a large cupcake, bigger than her fist, with raisins dotting the golden sponge. It had purple icing, and a slightly lopsided
15
iced in silver.

‘It's not much, but I hope you like it.'

Cat beamed, hugging him tightly around the waist, careful not to drop her cake.

‘It's the best,' she declared. Her father had always bought her dresses and jewellery and perfumes on her birthday but she'd not had a present she actually enjoyed since she was
young, when her mother had been well enough to buy them. ‘Thank you, and Matt.'

‘You're very welcome. Happy birthday, lass. Almost a grown woman now,' he teased, making her blush.

‘D'you think I could have this now, or should I save it for after breakfast?'

Ben chuckled, ruffling her hair.

‘Eat it now. I'll see you at breakfast.'

Leaving the pilot's room, she cradled the cupcake carefully in her hands, taking a bite as she rounded the corner and humming in contentment. It was delicious. Her next bite was far bigger, and she was so engrossed in the treat she didn't notice Fox standing in her bedroom doorway.

‘There you are!' he exclaimed, startling her. ‘Hurry up, we need to get moving. Where did you get that cupcake?'

‘Ben gave it to me,' she replied, somewhat defensive. ‘It's my birthday.'

He blinked, startled.

‘Oh. Happy birthday. Get changed – you'll need darker clothes than that.'

She sighed, barging past him to get to her room, not expecting him to follow. She set her half-eaten cupcake on her desk and pulled her long-sleeved shirt over her head, standing in just her undershirt, whipping around when she heard a yelp.

‘Storms, girl, at least wait until I'm gone before you start prancing about in your undergarments!' Fox exclaimed, squeezing his eyes shut.

‘Well, wait outside, then,' she snapped, throwing open her wardrobe. She dressed quickly, taking her cake with her, and
left her room only to find the corridor empty, and the galley silent. She stood there frowning – until the smell of the city caught her nose. Taking a large bite of cake, she went down the other end of the corridor, peering up through the manhole. It was lighter than it should have been up there; the trap topside was open. Hurrying up the ladder and continuing up on deck, cupcake cradled carefully, she wasn't too surprised to see Fox climbing up the rigging to sit on the boom. She climbed up behind him, and he didn't seem shocked when she shuffled out beside him.

The two sat in silence for several long minutes, Cat finishing off her cake and watching the sun rise over the city. When it became clear that Fox wouldn't be starting the conversation, she spoke.

‘What's your problem with the government, anyway? I mean, besides the obvious.' Everyone hated the government, but Fox seemed to have a particular loathing. He remained silent, and Cat was about to give up and leave him to it when he spoke.

‘I used to live in Marleytown when my parents were alive,' he told her, head turned in the direction of Marleytown itself.

Cat looked at him in shock; Marleytown was a fairly well-off middle-class area near Greystone, and Fox definitely didn't seem like the type. ‘We had to scrimp a little, but we earned enough to get by and keep our house. When I was eight, Dad's workshop in the basement caught fire, and our whole house went up in flames. Everyone assumed I'd been in there with them, and I let them – it was better than being taken into government care. They weren't Collecting,
then, but there were a fair number of orphan kids disappearing. I don't think the monarchs knew about it. They were too caught up in the war, and it was only a year or so before they too disappeared. If they'd known, I'm sure they would have stopped it. Shame, really. If they hadn't gone, none of this would have happened. The king wouldn't have stood for it.'

Cat stared at him, listening intently. Was Fox actually opening up to her?

‘I lived in the slums for three years – nearly got Collected a few times – but the people in Danley helped out a lot. I saw a lot of things happen in those three years, things that taught me how cruel and heartless the government really is. Once I saw three government boys beat a fifteen-year-old girl to death because one of them had got her pregnant, and she wanted some money to help take care of the baby. They left her there, in the street, just … bleeding to death. I was nine and … and I couldn't do anything, though storms know I tried.' Cat was silent, horrified, but Fox wasn't looking at her; he was staring out over the city with a look of disgust. ‘I expected to be there forever, but then one day I was wandering around the shipyard and Harry found me.' He smiled bitterly, fiddling with a brass button on his coat. ‘Things have been great ever since. Then … then you turned up. I thought you were like me at first. An orphan. No home, no parents, no one to miss you when you left.' He let out a hollow chuckle. ‘Look how wrong I was. You were a spoiled little princess, protected from the cold, harsh world and given everything you could ask for, and plenty you didn't. It was hard not to hate you at least a little after that.'

Cat glared at him, half tempted to push him off the boom.

‘Don't assume things about me just because of my name, and my birth status; we
spoiled little princesses
are allowed to have terrible childhoods too. You have no right to judge me by how you think I grew up, because I assure you, it definitely wasn't as glamorous as you're imagining.' Her voice was quiet, but hard. He
knew
her life hadn't been sunshine and roses before, so why did he continue to act like it had?

Annoyed, she swung her leg over the boom and jumped straight to the deck. Wrapping her coat around her against the early morning chill, she descended the trap, deciding to leave Fox to himself.

‘There you are, sprog!' Matt's cheerful voice called as she walked past the open galley door, and she stopped, doubling back.

Matt, Harry and Ben were all in the galley with Alice, all three men dressed in black and looking serious. Trying to wipe the scowl off her face, she joined them, eyeing the mass of devices piled on the table, next to satchels for her and Fox. She recognised Fox's audio and video recorders, and the rest seemed to be Ben's explosive devices. He had one in his hand, and was patting it fondly.

‘Where's our dear little thundercloud, then?'

Cat's scowl returned.

‘On deck, being a pillock,' she muttered darkly.

Harry let out a low whistle.

‘That is definitely not a happy face,' he murmured, frowning, and Cat snorted, despite herself.

‘Blame Mr Thundercloud,' she retorted.

‘He'll be down soon – with less of an attitude problem, I hope,' Matt assured her. ‘Happy birthday, by the way.'

Cat smiled, hugging him briefly.

‘Thanks. I just want to get everything over with. The sooner we get this done, the sooner things will change.'

Ben smiled at her from across the table.

‘We'll be coming with you past the gate, but you're on your own after that. Mattie wants to have a look in the newscast building, see what kind of set-up they've got in there. We won't plant the canisters yet, as we don't know how long you'll be in there,' he explained.

The door opened, and a sour-faced Fox walked in; Cat thought the thundercloud nickname was rather apt. He didn't look at her; just sat on the end of the bench furthest away from her.

‘We ready to go, then?' he asked, his gaze firmly on Harry.

‘In a minute, lad, be patient,' Harry told him, looking around the table at his assembled crew.

‘East Gate will barely be guarded from seven until nine today for worship, and then every day at one in the afternoon until half past two when they break for lunch. And, of course, they'll be on a skeleton guard during the night shift. One of us will be round the gate area every day at lunch break, just in case you need us,' he said to Fox and Cat, who nodded. ‘Try and get as much recorded evidence as you can – but don't do anything stupid. Like Cat said, the sooner this is over the better. Mattie, give us a hand wiring these two up, would you?' he requested, getting to his feet and picking up one of the audio recorders, prompting Cat to stand up.

‘Hold still, lass,' Harry murmured, reaching to fix the recorder to the inside of her leather waistcoat, the microphone hidden but unobstructed at the base of her starched shirt collar. She reached up, gingerly feeling for the switch, checking where it was so she didn't fumble for it when she actually needed to turn it on.

‘I've packed some non-perishable food for you both in the satchels,' Alice informed them, passing the two leather bags over to them. ‘Try and make it last.' She hugged them tightly, patting Fox's cheek. ‘Stay safe. I'll see you both soon.' There was only a slight waver in her voice, betraying the very real possibility that she might never see them again.

Harry reached for a video recorder, while Matt secured Fox's audio recorder and Ben slipped one in his satchel just in case. When the pair of them were wired up, with the video recorder's film canister safely in the inside pocket of Cat's waistcoat, they pulled their coats back on and left the galley, all five of them heading up to the deck.

Ben reached out from behind Cat, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly, thumbs hooking through the epaulettes on her coat.

‘Just trust yourself, and as hard as it sounds, trust Fox,' he said, his voice quiet in her ear.

She gave him a sceptical look, and he returned it with a lopsided smile.

‘I know, I know. But I don't think you realise just how much you get under his skin.'

She snorted quietly to herself;
that
probably wasn't a good thing.

Climbing up on deck for the second time that morning, Cat squinted in the early morning light, and followed her companions down the lowered gangplank. The shipyard was, for once, almost empty. Even the guards were dozing in their glass-fronted office, allowing people to come and go as they pleased. There were a few people taking advantage of the early hour, loading up their ships ready to leave or slipping into the city. Their little group went, for the most part, unnoticed.

They stuck to the grimy back alleys as often as they could; the city was beginning to wake, people readying themselves for worship, and the main temple was right in the centre, nearest South Gate, the intricate steel spire visible from just about everywhere in the city. They would have to be careful, time things perfectly; if they arrived too soon, the guards would still be in place and their efforts would be wasted. Pulling her coat sleeves down over her hands to keep her fingers warm, Cat hurried along after Fox and Harry, with Ben close behind her.

When they reached the street that passed close to East Gate, Cat crept forward to check it was deserted, cursing under her breath when she saw a single guard leaning up against the solid steel wall of the obviously faulty gate, which had a steel rope looped around the handles to hold it together. A shallow ditch at its base, the wall was a good ten feet tall and circled the entire government district. Despite that, the government compound was easily visible behind it, the largest building in Breningarth. The entire building was unnecessarily ornate, the dark brickwork carved into patterns and water-dragons by expert hands
and only slightly weathered by storms. She couldn't help but eye the rows of windows suspiciously, wondering if there was anyone looking out of them. She prayed to the gods that the place was deserted. She couldn't think of anyone in government who would be caught dead missing Sunday worship. Luckily, East Gate was like the other three entrances to the government district, in that there was hardly any housing nearby; no one wanted to live close enough to be caught up in government affairs, so there were no residents around to see them creeping about.

Sneaking back to the crew, she told them about the guard.

‘Leave it to me,' said Matt, reaching into Ben's satchel without hesitation, and pulling out an unlabelled glass bottle and a rag. This earned him confused looks from the rest of the crew – even Ben – who were too perplexed to stop him when he rounded the corner, not even bothering to hide himself.

‘Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to turn around and leave,' the guard called out, making Fox jump.

‘Don't be so hasty there, friend,' Matt replied cheerily.

The rest of the conversation was too quiet for Cat to hear, until a muffled thump startled her into peering round the corner. Matt was standing with the bottle and rag in his hand, staring down at the unconscious guard at his feet.

‘You can come out now,' he told them.

They all rounded the corner as Matt slipped the bottle and rag into his coat pocket then hoisted the guard over his shoulder as effortlessly as if the man weighed the same as Cat.

‘Where in the gods did you get that from?' Fox asked, sounding both impressed and disturbed.

‘That would be telling,' Matt replied, tapping the side of his nose. He sneezed, frowning. ‘Still on my fingers. That tickles.'

‘Can we hurry this up, please?' Harry prompted.

Matt saluted mockingly, dumping the unconscious guard unceremoniously in the ditch surrounding the walls of the compound. In wetter weather, the ditch would be filled with water, but right now it was just frozen mud. Fox strode forward and headed straight for the gate to deal with the steel rope. Cat peered into the ditch at the uniformed man slumped in the mud.