Night's Engines by Trent Jamieson

Author:Trent Jamieson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy, General, Action & Adventure, Fiction
ISBN: 9780857661876
Publisher: Angry Robot
Published: 2012-05-28T14:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 29

The last riots were the worst. They swept across the tent city like great waves, driven by tides of discontent, and then washed into Hardacre as though the walls didn't even exist.

Journeys to the Underground, Mistle & Mistle

THE CITY OF HARDACRE

955 MILES NORTH OF THE ROIL

Without David and Margaret, the Habitual Fool felt empty, for all that it was full of newcomers. Those two had dominated the place, without ever realising it, perhaps wanting to do precisely the opposite. Three days since they had chosen to, escape… no, not escape, it wasn’t as if they’d been held prisoner. Whatever it was, they’d already caused ripples. Buchan and Whig had heard from spies of their flight from Drift.

But by then they'd had their own problems: the Old Men had come in the night, tearing through the Habitual Fool like death. Buchan and Whig had lost three of their crew to them, but had managed to survive the night, though not without wounds. Each had had to bear long hours receiving stitches and being reassured by a local doctor and historian that the Old Men’s bites and scratches did not carry a contagion, and that they were not likely to awaken hungry for blood.

The Old Men had stolen the last of their maps of the far north – those not stolen by David – and a jacket that had belonged to David and been left behind, as it had grown too small.

To Buchan, the loss of the maps had been a devastating blow. They marked the coordinates of death zones; without them, navigating the north was likely to lead to conflagration.

“What do we do here?” Buchan said. “We’ve spent fortunes preparing for this journey. We’ve lost everything, and now, even this is taken from us.”

Whig sighed. “Maybe it’s for the better. I’ve never liked the cold.”

“Standing next to David must have been very unpleasant for you.”

“Standing next to what he has become, yes. But you must admit that there’s steel in him, and Margaret, too. They may have left us, but it doesn’t mean we can’t help.”

Buchan leaned forward. “What do you suggest?”

“The Old Men still hunt David. We ignored his warning, and managed to survive; perhaps it’s time something hunted them, and in the hunting, of course we might just find David, too. After all, it’s David they want.”

“And just how do you suggest that we do that?”

Whig grinned and patted the blades at his belt. “The old-fashioned way, of course.”

Buchan laughed. “Old-fashioned ways for old-fashioned men. I like the way you think, man.”

“The Old Men haven’t hidden their tracks. After all, they know no one would be stupid enough to hunt them.”

“Until now. Do you think we can kill them?”

“Probably not, but chances are we’ll all be dead by spring anyway.” Whig unrolled a map of the north. “Buchan, get our crew ready. We’ve miles to go and blood to spill.”

This was taking forever. The Warden of the Air was going through every piece of paperwork more carefully than

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