alive. You scared us all, even the Warrior Princess (though it’s hard to tell). Yours, Kara Jade Dawn
David let the paper drop, picked it up, and read it again, looking for some sort of clue, some deeper meaning.
He held it to the light, in case there were some secret script, some warning; he singed the corner, and no revelation came. Here was a way out, a quick escape from Hardacre, which was starting to feel less of a way station, and more a prison.
He took a deep breath, plus a half nail of Carnival, and sought out Margaret.
CHAPTER 14
In many ways both Buchan and Whig were naive. But it is hard to blame them. The world wasn't what it was. Ironically, so close to its ending events were not speeding up, but slowing down, as though everyone refused to acknowledge the cliff they were about hurtle off, or they were desperately trying to apply the brakes.
Buchan and Whig hadn't adjusted yet.
I still feel bad about what we did to them.
THE CITY OF HARDACRE 964 MILES NORTH OF THE ROIL EDGE
There was a knock on the door at ten past six. Margaret opened it. “You’re late.”
“Hardly by any real margin,” Buchan said, a sheen of sweat marking his brow. Whig followed him into the room, and oddly enough David walked through after them, that smug grin on his face. With all four of them in her room, things were a little squashed. Buchan smelt of beer, Whig smelt like honey. David possessed no odour at all.
“We were delayed,” Whig said. “Another meeting with yet another pilot.” “And, once again, no success,” Margaret said.
“We will find our path into the north, believe me.”
“Horses, why not those?”
“Horses are too slow, the terrain terrible.”
“We’d be halfway there by now.”
“We’d most probably be dead,” Buchan said.
“Yes, I guess there would be few horses that could carry your weight.” Buchan’s eyes flared, his cheeks reddened and he clenched one great hand into a fist. Whig stared at her sternly. He said, “There are animals up to the task, believe me.”
“I know it’s frustrating,” Buchan said. “But we are doing our best, our avenues here are extremely limited.”
“And that isn’t remotely good enough,” Margaret snapped.
“I know how it must sound,” Whig said. “But we have been stymied at every turn. Sometimes I think that we are truly being stopped from going any further.”
“It’s true,” Buchan said. “Paperwork goes missing, airship pilots that initially seem interested change their minds, or are called off to the east. And the bribes.” Buchan wiped his brow. “Ah, I can’t even begin to tell you how much they are costing us.”
Whig nodded. “Believe us, David, Miss Penn. We are men used to a certain level of unscrupulous dealings.”
“We can deal with the best of them. But this is a whole new level of greed, if it is indeed greed rather than something that has been dressed up as such.”
“But who would stop us here?” David asked.
“David, there are some people that would rather you never made it into the north. That perhaps aren’t even quite aware of what you are, but know that to let us leave Hardacre may threaten everything that they have built.”
“Yes,” Whig said. “There are some who believe that, even as a last resort, the Engine of the World should not be used.”
“Then why has the Engine been allowed to exist all these centuries?” Margaret said. “Why hasn’t it been destroyed?”
Buchan smiled a little wearily. “We lack the means to destroy the Engine, and have for most of that time, if we ever possessed it at all. We are the last and least of our kind, Margaret. Even your great parents, may they rest in peace, were little more than scavengers of old technologies.” He raised a finger in the air to silence her before she could respond. “Let me finish, please. We lived in the shadows of our great towers and levees, and though we may have raised ourselves high, it was never nearly high enough.”
“Which is why we must use the Engine,” David said. “Which is why we must destroy the Roil.”
“Yes, we all agree with you. But you must give us more time. When we procure a pilot, we shall be able to make the flight to Tearwin Meet in days. You start walking and the Roil will catch up before you even see its high walls,” Whig said.
“We will be ready in a week, no more than that,” Buchan said. “For all the delays, for all our excuses, we are finally making progress.”
“You must excuse our caution,” Whig dragged the pipe from his jacket, tamped down some tobacco. “I know that the wait seems interminable, but even now the distant north is an inhospitable destination.
“The weather is variable in the extreme, and the changes in temperature mean that the ice that coats much of the north has shifted. It can open and swallow you whole, and we’ve already come so far and lost so much, wouldn’t you say, David and Miss Penn?”
“A week, another week,” Margaret spat.
Whig said, “Aerokin are hard to fashion out of nothing. We are not the fierce Mothers of the Sky, we are just men — with some exceptions, of course.”
“And I would agree if you had nothing. You let Kara Jade go.”
“I didn’t see you arguing for her to stay at the time.”
“I’m not the one organising this journey north.”
“Indeed you are not,” Buchan said. “Actually, I’m not sure what you are, other than someone that complains and does nothing.”
Margaret’s jaw moved, she could barely speak, she jabbed a finger into Buchan's chest. “You know what I have done. I could show you what I have done!”
Whig raised his hands. “Please, please, we are all friends here.”
Buchan and Margaret swung their heads towards Whig, and said, “We are not friends.”
The words were spat, with a savagery that surprised Margaret, even as she said them. No, they were not friends, but were they enemies? Buchan's jowls shook, he grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at his face. Margaret almost pulled it from his hands.
Whig seemed to wilt. Then he smiled. “Circumstances make friends of us all. Shale grows too small for us to make enemies, a little like this room.”
“Then get an airship, or an Aerokin, and get us out of this damn city!” She took a deep breath. “I am going to close my eyes, and count to ten. If either of you are in my room at that point, our friendship shall be tested.” She slid the rime blade a few inches out of its sheath, and closed her eyes.
They were gone before she reached three.
She kept her eyes closed a full minute before opening them again. David still stood there.
“What are you grinning at?” she snapped.
“Aerokin are hard to fashion out of nothing, but I think I have a solution to our problem.” He passed her Kara's note.
Margaret folded the paper neatly. “Warrior Princess, thank you very much.” She slipped the paper into David’s
