The navigator (24 page)

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the morning wore on, Passionara started to sing. He shouted back to Owen.

"Hey, Pretty Rat, you like songs from time of shows? You like that damn fine Vera Lynn? Tell me. I sing for you. I cut throat after."

In fact, Passionara had a good voice and his singing took Owen's mind off the danger he was in. Passionara introduced songs from Sandy Shaw and the Sandpipers, and lots of other people Owen had never heard of, but then things started to go wrong. Passionara started to repeat verses. Then he began to forget the words. Finally, he went completely out of tune and was reduced to humming loudly off-key. The gin bottle rolled past Owen's nose. It was completely empty.

In the end there was no more singing. Gradually, Owen realized that another snore had been added to the chorus in the cabin. Craning his neck around as far as it would go, he saw that Passionara was fast asleep, slumped over the controls. They were careering down the Harsh Road at terrifying speed with no one in control.

The end wasn't long in coming. The Q-car started to veer away from the center. For several minutes it traveled down the snow-covered motorway on what would have been the hard shoulder. Then it struck a road sign buried under the snow. With a ringing sound the sign snapped and flew high into the air. The Q-car turned sharply sideways and ran at high speed right off the road and into the countryside, snapping trees like twigs, crashing over hidden obstacles. Johnston stirred in his sleep, but it was too

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late. Owen saw a huge wall rearing up in front of them. Before he had time to brace himself, the Q-car struck with a massive crash. The force of the collision propelled Owen the length of the floor. With a sickening impact he hit the bulkhead beside the sleeping Passionara. Maria-callas hurtled down the floor after him and struck Owen with an impact that drove the breath from his body.

For several moments there was chaos. Swearing and sweating, Johnston plucked the drunk Passionara out of the driver's seat and simply flung him the length of the cabin. Mariacallas seemed a bit dazed and was dancing around the cabin with a long thin knife in his hand looking for imaginary foes. Whitwashisberd was awake with his book open in front of him, and by the way he was looking at the still-sleeping Passionara, it was open at the page featuring the drunk man's name, Owen thought.

It turned out that the wall they had struck was made of soft snow piled up by the wind, and there was little actual damage done, although the Q-car was almost buried in it. Johnston took the controls and drove the Q-car forward and back until he had got it clear. He lay back in his seat looking terrible. His great sideburns were matted, and his eyes were red and veined.

All at once he sat up and looked through the side window of the cabin, then leapt to his feet. He suddenly seemed to become aware of Owen and with half a kick and half a push he propelled the boy back down the cabin until he fetched up under Whitwashisberd's table again. Then he threw open the hatch and unfolded the

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long, spindly ladder. Johnston clambered down followed by Mariacallas, and Owen could not see them for a few moments. When they reappeared in his window, they were trudging across the snow toward a large flat area. Reaching it, Johnston took something out of his pocket and threw it. There was a blinding blue flash and a large noise. When the fine haze of ice that hung in the air after the explosion had cleared, Owen saw that there was a small lake underneath the ice, the water black and cold against the snow. Johnston and Mariacallas threw off their clothes and, with whoops and wild curses, plunged into the freezing water.

Whitwashisberd saw what they were doing. With what sounded like a grunt of enthusiasm he clambered to his feet and lumbered toward the hatch. Owen could feel the whole Q-car shaking as he went down the ladder. Then the man reappeared in the window, almost running across the snow, shedding his clothes as he went. Owen looked away. He felt bad enough without being put through the ordeal of seeing a naked Whitwashisberd.

On the outside of the cabin, a piece of ice stirred--a piece of ice that seemed to have eyes that glittered with determination every bit as cold and adamant as the frozen earth over which the Q-car had traveled. When Pieta had seen the Q-car reach the edge of the Harsh Road she realized that she would not be able to keep up. With one swift movement she had reached for the magno whip at her waist. She lashed it backward and forward over her

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head until she had woven a rope of burning blue flame. Then one immensely powerful flick had sent it speeding toward the back of the Q-car. With a hiss, the end of the knotted cord of light wrapped itself around the jutting tailpiece of the Q-car. Still running at full tilt, Pieta had flicked the whip again. A great shiver had run along its length and she was lifted off her feet as the light cord contracted at great speed, hurling her through the air as if she was flying until she landed, feetfirst, on the rear of the speeding vehicle.

There she stayed through the night, using her belt to bind her to the riveted bulkhead of the Q-car so that she would not be thrown off. So frozen were her clothes that you would have thought she was a statue were it not for those green eyes, stern and unblinking even in the icy gale that buffeted her.

Owen heard a noise at the hatch. He turned to see a head coming through, but a head unlike any he had ever seen. It seemed sculpted from snow, with long, stiff hair of ice. The ice person moved quickly into the cabin and Owen shrank back as it approached. Then he saw the eyes. The same eyes he had seen, bold and fierce, in the battle with Johnston's men; the same eyes he had seen narrow with sarcastic humor at the Convoke; the same eyes he had seen soften with love at the sight of her children. Pieta.

She unwrapped the cloth round her face.

"Pieta, I--" he started to say.

"Can you walk?" she interrupted him brusquely.

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"I don't know. I can't really feel my legs."

Pieta took out a small knife and began to cut through the ropes. At first Owen couldn't feel anything, but moments later the blood began to flow back and he had to bite his lip to stop from gasping out at the pain. With a quick glance at the unconscious Passionara, she hauled Owen to his feet and slashed the cords on his arms. Her clothes crackled with frost as she bundled him quickly toward the hatch. His legs were numb and weak and she had to support him. Pieta looked quickly through the hatch. The three men were still in the water.

"I can't climb," Owen said.

"You won't have to," said Pieta, giving him a shove between the shoulder blades. Unbalanced, and with his arms too weak and numb to catch the sides of the hatch, Owen tumbled through. Looking up as he fell, he saw Pieta jumping after him. He landed in a deep snowdrift. Pieta landed beside him. She urged him to his feet. He got up, his still-numb legs almost useless in the deep snow. Pieta put her arm round his shoulders and half dragged, half carried him away from the Q-car.

Owen felt terribly exposed as they moved slowly across the snow. Pieta was making for a low ridge several hundred meters away. He glanced over his shoulder. The three men were still in the water. He could hear Mariacallas's high-pitched laughter. At least he wouldn't have to put up with that terrible sense of humor again, he thought.

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As they approached the ridge, feeling gradually returned painfully to Owen's legs and he was able to carry more of his own weight up the slope.

"Keep low," Pieta said as they reached the top of the ridge, but no matter how low they kept they were silhouetted against the skyline. Owen waited for an angry shout but none came. Almost on their hands and knees, they crossed the ridge and fell onto the other side.

"Rest for a moment," said Pieta, "but then we have to move."

"They'll see our tracks," Owen suddenly said. "They'll find us straightaway!"

"I'm not so sure," Pieta said quietly. "Look." She pointed north. Owen could see great yellow snow clouds massed on the horizon.

In the Q-car Passionara woke up. He shook his head and spat out a tooth with an expression of disgust. He looked around. He was on his own. He went to the window. In one direction he could see footprints leading away across the snow. He went to the other window. He saw Johnston, Mariacallas, and Whitwashisberd still in the black water. He looked under the seats in the car. He went back to the window and counted the figures in the water. He went to the other window and looked thoughtfully at the footprints. He went to the driver's seat and started the engine. The car trundled across the snow toward the lake. Johnston looked up in surprise.

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Owen found the going easier after his brief rest and Pieta only had to stretch out an arm now and then when he stumbled. It helped that they were on the windward side of the ridge so that the snow was not as deep. Ahead of them they could see the dark mass of the tree line.

"If we can get under the trees, we'll be able to hide," Pieta said.

"Is everybody all right?" asked Owen. "Cati and the rest?"

"They have gone north," Pieta said. "They have the Mortmain with them. They are looking for the Puissance."

"But that's no good. Even if they reach it, they won't be able to find the right place; they won't know what to do." Pieta looked at him strangely. Owen felt his face burning. Why had he said that? What did he know about the Puissance and how to make time go back the right way?

Two things happened then that stopped Pieta questioning him further. A fat snowflake drifted down and landed on Owen's cheek. And behind them, the Q-car crested the ridge. Johnston had opened a hatch at the top and was scanning the ground in front of him with one hand shielding his eyes. He pointed and they heard a distant shout.

"Run!" Pieta said. "Run like you've never run before!" Owen ran, stumbling and falling and picking himself up again, a great lung-bursting, nightmarish run where, it seemed, the trees did not get any nearer and the

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Q-car gained on them every second. The snow will save us, he thought desperately. The snow will hide us. And yet the snow drifted down in large downy flakes, not thick enough to conceal them or their tracks.

And then they were nearly at the tree line, but the Q-car was almost on them. Pieta turned and lashed the magno whip across the surface of the snow. A huge curtain of white rose from the ground, a spiraling blizzard, and the Q-car disappeared behind it. Owen could hear Johnston's bellow of rage and then they were in among the trees.

Safe! thought Owen. Safe, that is, until he realized that they had not reached the forest as they had thought. The place they had reached was not that of the deep forest, but a line of trees only five or six deep. Owen stopped and teetered and would have fallen if Pieta had not caught him by the arm.

They stood on the brink of a sheer gorge and, far below, at the bottom of a cliff, was the green-blue water of a fast-rushing river. They were trapped. Following Pieta, Owen started to run along the top of the gorge, keeping in the shadow of the trees. Behind them he could hear the Q-car crashing through the trees like some large and angry beast. They reached a stand of tall Scotch pines. Pieta uncoiled the whip. The blue flame lashed out with the speed of a snake striking. There was a crack and a sizzling sound and then, with a mighty crash, the tallest of the trees fell right across the gorge, forming a long, smooth bridge.

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"We have to cross at a run," Pieta said. The Q-car was very close now. Owen looked down at the coil of green water below them and felt the familiar sick fear rise in his throat.

"I can't," he said. "I can't."

Pieta didn't hesitate. With a flick of her wrist she drew the whip across the back of Owen's legs. He yelped at the searing pain and she flicked her wrist again. The pain and shock were indescribable. Owen saw her flex her wrist again and he recoiled onto the fallen tree. She swung at him again. And so he crossed the bridge at a run, driven like a beast, tears of pain and humiliation in his eyes.

Halfway across, he heard a roar of triumph. He could not help stopping and turning to see, half expecting the lash again. But Pieta had done what she had set out to do. The Q-car emerged from the trees; Johnston, face and sideburns coated with snow, yelled again. Passionara was driving. He turned the vehicle to cut them off, setting a diagonal course. Too late he saw the gorge, and they heard Johnston's enraged cry. The Q-car stopped on the very edge of the gorge, teetered and righted itself, teetered once more, and once more righted itself. Owen could see Whitwashisberd sitting in his usual place. The ledger was open in front of him.

The Q-car teetered again, but through the windscreen Owen saw that Mariacallas had come to the front of the vehicle. In vain, Passionara tried to push him back. The extra weight was enough to turn the teeter into a slide, and

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the slide into an uncontrollable descent. Owen stopped his ears against Johnston's roar of terrible anger. But as the Q-car slid past them Owen could see Whitwashisberd writing something in the book with an air of calm satisfaction, and Owen knew he was drawing a tiny skull next to his own name. There was a bang and the rumble of rocks falling into the gorge. And then the Q-car was gone.