Quillblade (5 page)

Who is the bird?
Missy sent.

Another image came to Iki's mind. The Quillblade.

Lord Raikô?

The link broke and, though she groped after it, Missy lost track of Iki.
Lord Raikô?
She felt her physical body clutching the feather Tenjin had given her.
Could it be ...?
She tried to find Iki again, but it was no use.

Missy returned to her body and opened her eyes. ‘It was a warning, Captain, from Iki.' She glanced quickly at Tenjin and went on, ‘The Warlord has sent airships after us. He must have figured out we were making for the Wastelands, and I think there is a Demon hunting us as well.'

‘We need to get out of the Wastelands.' Arthur stepped over to the map table. ‘We should turn east immediately.'

‘I do not wish to return to Taiyô domain.' Captain Shishi turned to the navigator. ‘How far north have we come?'

Kenji measured some distances off on one of his charts. ‘If we change course now, we should hit Tani domain and miss Taiyô altogether. Just.'

‘Tani domain is closely allied with the Shôgo. Can we reach Tsuki domain?'

The navigator bent to his charts again. ‘If we head east now and then turn north-east as soon as we reach the Wasteland border, we might avoid the Shôgo. The closest city to the border is Kokkyô, but it's several miles to the east. As long as they don't have any patrols in the air, we should be able to slip past them and make for Gesshoku in Tsuki domain. There is an airdock there.'

Arthur was frowning over the navigator's shoulder. ‘Is Gesshoku any better than Kokkyô? We might be better off trying to outrun Demons than flying through Shinzôn airspace. Every airship at the Shôgo's disposal is going to be after us.'

The captain moved over to the map table and pointed down at it. ‘Tsuki domain is ruled by the Yûgure clan. They
have no love of the Warlord. They will help us avoid his forces, if only to spite Lord Shôgo.' Missy couldn't tell if the first officer was satisfied with the captain's response or not, but he remained silent. Captain Shishi looked up. ‘Miss Shin, please change course. We are going east.'

‘Yes, my lord.' Shin swung the tiller.

As they turned towards the east Missy sat back in her chair and sent a silent thank you to Iki, but she puzzled over the image of the Quillblade. If Missy was interpreting the message correctly, Iki believed she was passing on a warning to them from Lord Raikô the Thunder Bird. She looked down at the Quillblade in her lap. Could it be real? Could Tenjin's story have been true? Her Puritan upbringing shied away from the idea, but she forced herself to face it. Maybe Lord Raikô
was
real, maybe the Totem did exist, and if so, maybe she really was holding a
shintai,
a gift the Thunder Bird had given to the adventurer he had fought for three days without rest. Missy glanced at Tenjin out of the corner of her eye and tried to imagine him as a young warrior fighting a giant bird who could summon lightning. The old man was looking out of the crystal dome, humming to himself tunelessly. He didn't seem like much of a fighter, but Missy could feel
something
thrumming through the Quillblade she held. She wondered if what she was feeling was the power of a god.

Lenis felt the airship come about. Where were they going now? No one had bothered to tell him anything since they
had left Itsû, but he was used to that. An engineer didn't need to know which way an airship was pointed, as long as he kept it moving in that direction.

Besides, wherever they were going had to be better than the Wastelands. There was nothing in the Wastelands except Demons. Lenis had never seen a Demon before, but the stories he had been told were full of fangs, talons and red eyes. He
really
didn't want to meet one, which was why he had kept up Atrum's cloak around the
Hiryû
long after they had left the Shôgo's airships behind. The longer they remained invisible, however, the greater the strain on Atrum. Concern for his Bestia slowly gnawed at Lenis's conscience until it overrode his reflex to hide. He opened the hatch under the engine block and reached into the seemingly empty compartment. Atrum came into his hands quickly and dropped the invisibility he had wrapped around himself and the airship. Atrum usually had the energy of a puppy, but now his head hung down and his ever-moving tail was still.

‘Sorry, boy.' Lenis hugged the Bestia close, as Atrum twined his long tail up around Lenis's neck. ‘You did an excellent job.'

‘Indeed he did.' The voice was soft, with a heavy Shinzôn accent. ‘You have done well in raising him.'

‘Thank you, Captain.' Lenis straightened and then fell back, clutching Atrum to his chest. The Bestia gave a low whine. ‘Who are you?' The stranger in the doorway was definitely
not
the captain.

‘My name is Gôshi Yami of the Yûrei clan.' The man moved around the engine block to face the cowering Lenis.

‘What are you doing?' Lenis stammered.

‘You have nothing to fear from me, Lenis Clemens.' The man held out his right hand. His other was resting on his sword hilt. ‘I am sworn to protect the
Hiryû
and its crew. That includes you.'

Hesitantly, Lenis reached up and allowed the man to help him to his feet. Gôshi Yami? He remembered hearing the name before, but he couldn't remember where.

‘That is an extraordinary creature. I have never known a Bestia with such an ability.'

‘His name is Atrum,' Lenis said, still cradling the exhausted Bestia protectively. ‘He has an affinity for darkness.'

‘Indeed.' Yami bowed – though whether to boy or Bestia, Lenis didn't know – and then he turned and left the engine room.

Lenis stared after him, his heart beating in time with the hum of the engines. Atrum's own distress soon pushed all thoughts of strange swordsmen out of Lenis's mind. Lenis knew that if he needed to push Atrum he could feed him raw meat, but in the long run that would only make him sick. What he needed now was fresh water and lots of rest. But when Lenis reached the Bestia hutch, he noticed the water containers were empty. They must have spilled when the
Hiryû
banked sharply away from the airdock during the escape, the water seeping through the cracks between the floorboards.

Lenis carried Atrum out of the engine room, past the crew's cabins, under the mast-shaft that connected the balloons on either side of the airship, and through to the galley. The airship's cook was stirring a large pot on his stove. His faded red robes hung loosely around his ample girth, and wide sleeves dangled dangerously close to the food he was preparing. Much of the excess fabric of his garments was tied back with a strip of white cloth that also formed a part of the man's apron. The man was balding, but greying strands of straggly hair ran down the length of his back. All sorts of enticing odours wafted out of the pot he was stirring, and Lenis suddenly realised how hungry he was. He hadn't eaten all day.

Still, there were more important things to worry about.

‘Excuse me, sir,' he said politely, ‘could I please have some water for Atrum?'

The cook grunted and looked up from his pot. ‘No need to “sir” me, boy. Chô no Jinsei Hiroshi's my name. There's a dish over there, water barrels are back under the mast-shaft. Barely enough to drink, mind you. Don't know when any of us will get a bath next!'

‘Thank you, Hiroshi.' Lenis bowed. He placed Atrum on a stool and fetched a dish of water. Then he tried to coax the Bestia to drink.

‘They say you pulled us out of a mess of trouble back at the airdock, boy.' Hiroshi eyed him over his pot.

‘Atrum was the one who saved us,' Lenis said quickly.

Hiroshi gave a harsh laugh. ‘You're a fine young man. You remind me of me when I was your age.'

‘I do?' Lenis couldn't imagine anything he'd have in common with Hiroshi. Had the cook been sold into slavery by his own father? Had he been forced to work in factories, surrounded by pounding machinery and cut off from the sun? Had he been traded from one master to another until he found himself celebrating his thirteenth birthday in a foreign country? Lenis doubted it.

‘You take care of your companions.' Hiroshi nodded to the Bestia. ‘I remember once I was in the Wastelands just off Kôgen, and one of my companions was nearly gutted by a bear Demon. Had to carry him on my back for four days to get him to a healer.' He laughed. ‘That was the life, let me tell you! Poor wretch died, of course, but there it is.'

Hiroshi went back to stirring his pot and Lenis felt a little guilty for his earlier thoughts. The cook was only trying to be nice. It was hardly his fault Lenis was a slave. Ever since Lenis and Missy had been sent to Shinzô, Lenis had felt ... well, angry. When he was in Pure Land, on board an airship flying through clear skies over green fields, or blue lakes, or purple mountains, it was easier to accept what he was. But here, surrounded by people he didn't know who spoke languages he couldn't understand, he felt lonely.

‘What's the trouble?' Hiroshi asked suddenly.

‘Um ...' Lenis tried to think of something convincing to say. The last thing he wanted to do just then was confide in
the cook. He suddenly remembered the man who had startled him in the engine room. ‘There's a swordsman on board who calls himself Gôshi Yami.'

‘Oh,
that
one.'

‘You know him?'

‘Everyone in Shinzô knows Yami, or has heard of him. You ask me, he's as much trouble as a Demon. Worse, maybe.'

‘Worse?'

‘Well, none of them Yûrei clansmen are quite right, but him? He's cursed.' Hiroshi spat right on the floor. ‘Or so they say.'

‘Cursed?'

‘By a Demon.'

‘He said he's sworn to protect us.'

Hiroshi spat again. ‘You never mind about him, boy. You stick with me and I'll take care of you. Me and Murasaki. There's nothing we can't sort out, I tell you.' He pointed to the wall behind him. There, attached to a long chain, hung a short but clearly sharp sickle. The chain itself had flattened edges that looked no less sharp than the blade. ‘That's what we call a
kusarigama.
It's mostly a peasant weapon. Not as delicate as a sword, but effective in its own right.'

Lenis shuddered as he imagined what the
kusarigama
could do to him. Hiroshi clearly didn't notice. He stirred his pot for several more moments in silence before tasting its contents. Then he snorted and, apparently satisfied it was ready, bellowed, ‘Namei!'

A young Shinzôn girl came scampering into the galley, her face flushed. She looked a year or so younger than the Clemens twins and wore her straight, black hair short by Shinzôn standards. It came to her shoulders, and she kept it out of her face with a strip of red cloth. She wore short-legged pants and the robe of her Shôgo uniform was short-sleeved. Namei also wore long boots and, despite the fact she was clearly hot, had a thick red scarf tied around her neck. From beneath the edge of her left sleeve, Lenis thought he saw the beginnings of a tattoo, but he realised he was staring and looked quickly away.

‘What took you so long? Never mind,' Hiroshi snapped as she opened her mouth to answer. ‘Take these up to the bridge.' He ladled some stew into several bowls. ‘And there's more to dish out after that lot. Quickly, now, before it all gets cold!'

Namei hurried off, trying desperately not to drop the many bowls Hiroshi had demanded she carry. The cook placed a bowl in front of Lenis and grunted at the Bestia in his arms. ‘Some meat is what the little thing needs. You get some of that into him.'

Being spoon-fed the thick stew was the last thing Atrum needed, but Lenis didn't want to be rude. ‘He'll probably eat more comfortably in his hutch,' he said. He stood, balancing stew, water dish and Bestia with as much difficulty as Namei had her bowls.

Hiroshi nodded, convinced, no doubt, that Lenis was intent on following his advice.

Lenis made his way back to the engine room to care for his Bestia and maybe get some rest himself.