Bloodtide

'You've destroyed everything.'

Conor spread his arms. 'London is united. I'm drawing up plans to move out and start a new halfman war. Then… the fields and villages beyond. The towns. Ragnor itself! The nation united, just as your father dreamed of it.'

Signy bit into her hand until the blood came. She wanted to waste no more tears on Conor, but she couldn't stop them coming. She was going mad but at the same time a little dwarf creature living in the back of her mind was watching every move, trying to work out how to benefit from all this.

Conor turned to look at her lying there so helpless. It was wrong that she should be like that! She was so bright and free and happy and open. Her beautiful legs!

Conor began to stalk round the little room. He was furious. The legs had been a mistake – she had been ruined. Although Conor had given the orders himself, already, in his mind, he had been betrayed by the people who had carried those orders out.

'I don't have to pretend,' he told her. 'I love you.'

Signy showed him her face, the mess of blood, tears and dribble on her mouth. She was thinking, what do I do next?

Conor wanted to explain. 'Because the gods intended it. We are to be together. Look…'

Proudly, out of his belt, he took the knife that Odin had left in the lift shaft. The flint blade was still marred here and there with traces of the stone he had stuck it in. It had had to be chipped away fragment by fragment.

'Odin has chosen me,' he said proudly. 'And he has chosen you to be by my side.'

Signy shook her head. 'My brother's knife,' she said, and Conor turned black with rage.

'My knife! It was meant for me. I was the chief guest,' he hissed. He hated her for a second, but seeing her lying there with the bloody bandages around her knees, took his breath away. He loved her… he loved her so much!

He gestured around at me gutted room of the tower. 'This is all wrong. I never intended you to be treated like this. I'll get it all put back. Everything.'

'My legs?' she asked.

'Done without my knowledge!' insisted Conor. That was a lie, but he already believed it. Within the hour the woman who gave the orders would be hanging by her heels, her face turning black.

'My father? My brothers?'

'It was a war!'

'…it was a treaty.'

Conor swallowed. She had no right to talk to him like that! 'A war,' he repeated, more calmly. 'Is there anything you need, anything?' he asked, keen to show his generosity now that he had taken everything from her.

Signy looked up. 'My cat, Cherry. Tell them not to hurt my cat.'

'Where is it?'

'She ran away. Perhaps she'll come back.'

'I'll give orders. The cat will be returned to you safely.' He smiled and nodded and came forward to try to touch her hair, but she groaned in fear.

Conor nodded. 'I have time,' he said. 'I'll come to see you tomorrow.'

Signy turned her face to the wall and said, 'I never want to see you again.'

Conor winced at the hatred in her voice. No other man would ever have hoped that this girl could love him, but there was no end to Conor's greed. He had turned love into hatred. Why not turn it back just as quick?

'I'm all you have now, Signy,' he told her. Then he left.

As he climbed down the ladder he thought, she'll see. Politics is politics. The two sides could never have got along together. It had to happen. But that didn't mean to say that he didn't love her. He wanted her so much. What else was love if not that?

It was raining. Signy heard it pattering on the thin metal walls of her aerial prison all day long. The light was fading over a city washed clean. Now, at the end of the day, the sun shone in the clear air. She sat in her wheelchair and gazed out at the wet roofs, brilliantly lit by the slanting rays of the sun. You could see half the city from here.

It had been four days since Cherry left.

A guard came in behind her with a small tray. Hot toast, tomato soup, strawberries, sugar and cream – her favourites. He put it down on the table and began wafting the scents of the food across to her with his hand.

'Mmmmm, yum, yum! Presents from Conor. Smells good, eh?'

Signy still said nothing. The guard stared blankly at her. 'When they stick that tube down your throat, you'll regret it.'

Signy didn't turn her head. 'You raped me,' she said.

The guard stiffened. 'Not me!'

'Conor will believe it.'

The guard winced. He knew what she said was true. 'But I've done my best. I have to follow orders but I've not been harsh.' He waited, then gestured at the food. 'Please. You have to start eating soon.

Four days, thought Signy. The halfman lands were a dangerous place for a cat – or a little girl. Surely the whole thing had been a cruel dream, played on her by her own mind to trick her into staying alive. Signy thought she was going mad, but she wanted to be sure before she abandoned all hope.

'Please eat, please eat,' begged the guard. 'If you get ill I have orders to tell the doctors and then you'll get that tube down your throat and…'

'If you tell the doctors I'll say you raped me.'

The guard was truly caught between one devil and the next. 'Please eat,' he begged again.

Signy turned round and looked at the food. She needed to live long enough to know if her brothers had been saved.

'I'm not hungry,' she said.

The guard growled, 'Silly little tart,' to himself, but he didn't let her hear him. He turned and went for the door. As he opened it, there was a soft 'Chirrup!' and a little cat dashed in past his feet.

'Whoa…' The guard watched her run past. Signy turned as the little animal jumped onto her lap.

'Cherry! Cherry!'

The guard watched her for a moment before letting himself out. Perhaps the wretched child would eat something now. If something didn't happen soon he was for the jump, no matter what.

He banged out and locked the door behind him. Signy cupped the cat's head in her hands and rubbed her ears.

'What happened? Tell me, oh, tell me!' she begged. But the little cat just butted her head and purred. Signy ran her hand down her back and made her stick her bottom in the air by tickling in front of her tail. 'Cherry, please tell me -please, darling!'

The cat purred all the louder.

Surely it was just a cat, an ordinary cat. Signy's voice dropped to the slightest whisper. 'Did I imagine it…?'

'Don't say that!'

And there was the child in front of her.

'See… see!' cried Cherry. She held her face in front of Signy. 'Don't say I'm not real.'

'Tell me what happened,' Signy begged.

'Stroke me, then.' Signy began to stroke her head. Cherry ducked and purred. The child was exhausted. Already she was half asleep. 'I saved one. Rrrrrrr…'

'Which one… oh, Cherry, which one got away?'

'… Siggy. The youngest.'

'Siggy! Oh, Cherry! And where is he? What's happened to him?'

'Pig got him… mmmmmm…'

'The Pig! But you said…'

'Different, other. Good pig. I…'

'Oh, Cherry! Cherry… Cherry?'

But as she watched, the girl began to flicker, the fur on her face, off her face, on her, off her. As Cherry fell