Aurora (14 page)

‘Lily?’

‘My scavenge. Mum, it’s weird but she called me Clayslaps. No one else ever has, only you. How could a stranger know my Treenester name?’ His buzzing thoughts are propelling him towards an answer that surely cannot be. ‘She comes from the forest of Candlewood in the mountains and her name is Lily Longhope.’

Mother and son stare at each other with wide, wondering eyes.

‘
Lily. Longhope.
’ Broom savours each name. No longer upset, she is fiercely concentrated now. ‘From Candlewood, you say? In the mountains? Is it possible?’ she asks herself, fastening a long windwrap around her. ‘There’s a wedding gondola waiting to take me to the palace but – but . . . quick, Clay, take me to this Lily Longhope. I
must
see her first.’

SCUTS AND SKY FLEETS

The citizens of Ilira are pouring out of their mountain caves. It’s easy for Broom and Clay to slip through the crowds that cram the rockways to see the procession of the Pontifix’s bride. No one questions the trusted slave of Rodenglaw, rushing towards the harbour after her young mistress. But Clay is supposed to be sorting through piles of scavenge for tomorrow’s market. He pulls up his parka hood, keeps his face down.

Mother and son rush under the pelting waterfalls, down past the rusted doors of the mountain dwellers and the labyrinth of market caverns where the air is thick with the smell of dried fish and seal meat, across the steep tracks of the cable trains, past the entrances to the factories of the deep mines.

As they reach the foot of the mountain, Candle is stepping on to her wedding gondola.

‘Let me catch my breath,’ Broom gasps, stopping to drink in the spectacle of the bridal gondola and the crowds. ‘Look, Clay. The people love her, she’s one of their own. How can her father not?’

Clay lifts his head to risk a quick glance. There’s no sign of a Scut. All eyes are on the wedding – then suddenly they are not. The cheering dies. People lift their faces to look at the sky. Clay expects a celebration kite but sees instead a silver fleet of vessels moving northward, straight and fast. That is not, Clay judges, the sinuous movement of birds.

But what is the strange silver flock?

Panic rumbles in the crowd. Then the fleet disappears over the peaks of the mountains.

Clay tears his eyes from the sky. No time to wonder right now. He hurries his mother on, pulling her into Ale Alley, a worming rockway punctured with stinking caverns. It’s always crammed with revellers gulping down bitter seaweed ale. Today, there’s even more of a crush. Broom screws up her face at the stale reek and steps over frothy ale puddles, trying to squeeze past a man so large and solid he might be a bolder. Clay’s heart sinks to his boots as he sees it’s Pavord, a particularly brutal Scutmaster, and his even more vicious wife.

‘Hurry boy!’ Broom shouts at Clay, spotting the danger. ‘A gondola is waiting for us and Rodenglaw is not a patient man. That barrel of smoked oysters should be at the palace already – I want to see it loaded up now!’

She throws a hurried, imperious smile at the Scut and he rolls aside. His wife gives Clay a thuggish kick in the shin as he hurries past.

Clay limps through the winding alley until they reach the warren of harbour caves.

‘Brute of a woman!’ Broom bursts out, once they’re safely sheltered by a crop of rocks.

‘Used to it,’ says Clay, through gritted teeth. ‘Right, keep a lookout and put your scary face on if anyone comes.’

He unbolts the metal door of the cave where he left the scavenged girl.

LOST FATHERS, LOST GIRLS

The girl’s head droops on her chest like a wilted flower. She looks fast asleep but the moment Clay leans over her she becomes a wild, spiky creature – shrieking, snapping at him with her teeth, thrashing about until her hair is in his eyes and mouth. Clay grabs a thick handful of it and yanks the girl’s head back.

‘Bite me again,’ he warns, ‘and I’ll leave you here for Kronk.’

‘Won’t bite,’ she whispers, her fiery eyes full of fear.

‘Lily?’ says Broom. ‘Lily Longhope?’

She brings the oil lantern over to peer at the scavenged girl and gasps, almost dropping the lamp, looking just as she did when she saw the red shoe – as if she’s seen a ghost.

‘Mara,’ she whispers, and sinks to her knees in shock.

‘I’m
Lily
,’ says the girl, hoarsely. She blinks in the light. ‘You know my mother?’

Broom brings the lantern closer to the girl’s face.

‘Mara’s name was Longhope. Her hair was dark as midnight, yours is sunset,’ says Broom. ‘Her eyes were dark too where yours are fire. But you are hers all right.’

Lily studies the older woman, her amber-brown eyes brilliant and curious in the lantern glow.

‘Are – are you Broomielaw?’ she croaks.

‘I am Broomielaw the Treenester and this is Clayslaps my son,’ cries Broom, her eyes full. ‘Quick, untie her, Clay.’

Clay takes his dagger from his belt and cuts through the ropes he bound around the girl. Freed, Lily clambers to her feet, rubbing her arms. She tins to Clay and he steps back.

‘No biting!’

‘Pollock!’ the girl exclaims. ‘That’s who you look like! Our hunter, Pollock.’

Broom’s hands fly to her mouth.

‘I wasn’t sure at first,’ Lily continues, her eyes flicking from one to the other. ‘I couldn’t see how. But I’ve been sitting here in the dark, working it all out, hoping and hoping you’d come back.’ Her eyes settle on Clay’s astonished face and her dirty, tear-streaked one breaks into a tentative smile.

All Clay can do is absorb Lily Longhope and her words. The strange thrill inside redoubles and more. His father is alive? And this fiery girl is one of his own people?

‘Everyone thinks you both drowned when the
Arkiel
sunk,’ says Lily. ‘Another story that’s wrong,’ she adds.

‘They are alive?’ Broom asks incredulously. ‘Mara and Pollock?’ She pauses. ‘Gorbals? And they live in the mountains?’

Lily nods at each question and Broom grasps the girl in a great hug, as if she embodies all the beloved friends she thought she’d lost. Then as Lily lists the names of everyone in Candlewood, Broom’s soft eyes spill long-held tears.

‘I thought
they
all drowned when our ship sank,’ Broom explains. ‘I thought we were the only ones who survived.’

‘Some died,’ Lily adds gently. ‘But more have been born.’

‘Who has been born?’ asks Broom. The look on her face tells Lily that she can’t yet bear to hear who died.

‘Lots,’ Lily smiles. ‘Mol called her girl after you. I’ve got pests round my ankles all day.’ The words catch in her throat as she realizes she’d love to have those little pests climbing over her, pulling her hair and squabbling right now.

‘Mum,’ Clay interrupts, ‘there isn’t time for this. We need to get out of here before a Scut comes.’

‘Yes. And I need to be with my people again,’ says Broom, her eyes yearning. ‘You’ll take us to Candlewood, Lily, won’t you?’

Clay shifts from one foot to another. ‘Us?’

‘It’s where we belong.’ Broom is decided. ‘It’s where your father is, Clay.’

Lily hesitates. ‘But – but I need your help first.’

‘Of course we’ll help you. You’re one of us.’ Broom frowns. ‘But why
are
you here, Lily, all by yourself?’

‘I came with Wing, but he –
he
,’ Lily stabs a finger towards Clay, her eyes filling, face darkening,
‘killed
him.’

Broom turns to her son, aghast. ‘You killed
Wing
?’

‘Not me,’ Clay panics. ‘Vollony. He killed a two-headed wolfman, with a wolf’s head growing next to his own.’

‘It was only Wing in his wolfskin coat!’ Lily cries. She turns to Broom. ‘Mum lied. They
all
lied to me. I thought Rowan was my dad, but he’s not. It’s someone called Fox in a city across the ocean. And I’m going to find him,’ she finishes.

Broom’s eyes grow soft. ‘Now who does this hotheaded girl remind me of? Lily, Mara left the sky city so that she could save all of us. It was terrible for her because she’d found Fox after losing almost everyone else she loved. But she wouldn’t desert us when we needed her most.’

‘But she
lied
,’ Lily persists. ‘All my life she lied. She could have told me the truth. The least you can do for somebody is tell them who they are.’

Broom pulls the girl towards her.

‘So you’ve run away and Mara doesn’t know where you are? She’ll be out of her mind!’

‘And I’ve lost Wing.’ Grief makes Lily shudder from head to toe.

Broom shoots an anguished glance at Clay. ‘Mara loved that rat-child.’

‘No one likes me being with him because he’s wild. Not even Mum. Well, he’s gone now.’ Lily’s lips tremble but she shakes her head stubbornly. ‘I won’t go back until I find my Fox father. Or else Wing died for nothing.’

‘Fox is an ocean away,’ Broom says gently. ‘Mara should have told you, of course she should, but she was so young, like you, and she’d been through so much.’

‘I know,’ says Lily quietly.

‘How can
we
help you find your father? Right now,’ Broom remembers, flustered, ‘I’m supposed to be at the palace.’

‘Thought you were just about to run off to Candlewood?’ Clay reminds her. He’s been sitting on a pile of nets, frowning.

‘I can’t abandon Candle without a goodbye,’ Broom retorts uneasily. ‘Not just yet.’

‘Candle won’t let you go, Mum,’ says Clay. ‘Think about it. You’re her
slave.
She’ll be lost without you, especially now. If you really want to go, you have to just
go
– now.’

Broom shakes damp sand fretfully from the hem of her windwrap. ‘I can’t just go. Candle’s like a daughter to me. We’ll steal her away with us – she doesn’t want to be married to the Pontifix. She’s scared. Oh, I don’t know.’ She wrings her hands together. ‘I need to think!’

‘The globe,’ Lily reminds them. She glares at Clay. ‘I want my halo back. All I need to do is get the globe from Tuck Culpy, then I can use the cyberwizz to find my father.’

‘The Pontifix,’ Broom is bewildered, ‘has Mara’s globe? But—’

‘Mother!’ Clay bursts out. ‘If I’m caught in here by a Scut I’ll get my hands chopped off – that’s if I’m lucky. There’s no time to tell everything. We need to get out of here,
fast
.’

And best he doesn’t tell Lily what he’s done with her precious halo, thinks Clay; not just yet anyway.

‘I’ll take you to Candlewood,’ Lily bargains, ‘if you help me. You’ll never find your way through the mountains without me. Help me find my father,’ Lily’s pleading eyes meet Clay’s, ‘and I’ll take you to yours. Deal?’

‘Maybe,’ says Clay, feeling odd.

The idea that Pollock the Hunter, the father he always thought was dead, is living on the other side of the mountains is a thought too strange for him to deal with right away. The excitement he feels now is to do with Lily, not for the father he was too tiny to remember. And how can he make a deal to leave Ilira for a new life in the mountains when his dream is to become a seafarer and explore the world?

He jumps at the scuffle of boots outside. The metal door rattles as someone starts to pull it open.