Burn Bright

They changed kars at Illi and sat together in silence as the kar climbed the mountain. Retra stared out the window. In the clear air the lights shimmered in their brilliant night rainbow formation. It should be … could be … beautiful if she could forget what she’d seen – what she’d heard – in the dark.

When the kar stopped, Retra got off first, followed by Suki and then Rollo. The sign hanging on chains from the stair rails read ‘Syn’.

‘It’s Latin, you know. Means “together”,’ Rollo said. ‘You know Latin?’ asked Retra.

He shrugged, embarrassed. ‘Sure. All pre-councillors know that stuff. You can’t quote the law without it: abusus non tollit usum.’

‘I know some too,’ said Suki. ‘Kiss my bama.’ She tapped her backside.

The pair burst out laughing and slapped hands high in the air. Retra didn’t join in.

They walked down the platform’s stairs and stopped in front of a wood and iron door. Rollo pushed open the door for Suki and Retra with a mock bow. Instead of a club or church, though, it led them into a plain, wood-panelled room which narrowed off into a rocky passage.

Rollo took the lead, stooping to avoid hitting his head on the overhead rock. Every few steps, the three had to press against the wall as others squeezed past them, coming out.

The cramped passage began to slant downward and Retra and Suki took off their heels so they wouldn’t stumble on the uneven floor. They walked like that until Retra’s back began to ache from bending and Suki had begun to curse under her breath.

The end came quite suddenly.

Around the curve of rock lay a majestic but eerie cave lit by hundreds of candles. The cooler underground air smelt of wax, and layers of volcanic red stained the walls as if seeping blood. Altars set into shallow recesses punctuated the perimeter of the cave. People sprawled on them, chatting.

‘What are they doing?’

Rollo shrugged. ‘Waiting for the meeting to start? How should I know? I’ve never been here before.’ He sounded tense now that they were here.

‘Where do we go?’ asked Suki.

‘Over here, I think.’

They walked to one end of a narrow stippled carpet bordered by red guide ropes. It ran down the centre of lines of pews; enough seating for a large audience. The carpet ended at the centre of the cave, where a rough, rectangular-shaped slab of rock larger than the cable kar platforms stood. On the rock was a table adorned with ornate, gilded handles and motifs that reminded Retra of the coffins she had seen at Grave funerals. She counted ten seated figures but only one caused her heart to leap.

Lenoir!

‘Five Ripers and five of us,’ whispered Suki as if reading her thoughts.

‘You mean five Ripers and five of the Circle,’ corrected Rollo.

‘Same thing.’

‘No it’s not,’ said Rollo. ‘Circle are not us. Plenty think they’re spies.’

‘Who’s plenty?’

Rollo glowered at her. ‘The gangs.’

‘Yeah. Kero the great,’ said Suki sarcastically.

Retra listened to their soft bickering but it was Lenoir who captivated her gaze. He sat at the head of the table with Test at his side.

A girl with hair that fell past her knees, and a red mask painted across her eyes, appeared next to them. ‘Would you like to view the Circle meeting, baby bats?’

‘Sure!’ Rollo gave her a wide grin.

His manner irritated Retra. How did he so easily switch to being charming?

‘I’m Jaime. Follow me,’ she said. ‘You’re lucky. They’re about to begin a new discussion.’ She unhooked a section of the guide rope and ushered them onto the hard wooden seats. A young man lay drowsing with his eyes open on the pew in front of them. Retra heard his deep breaths and saw the steady rise of his chest.

Jaime wrinkled her nose. ‘He didn’t make it to a church for petite nuit. This is the only other safe place to rest,’ she lowered her already quiet voice, ‘although Lenoir doesn’t like it …’

As if hearing his name, Lenoir stood and turned, sweeping his gaze past each candlelit corner of the cavern. His glance raked over them like the blast of a hot wind.

‘Circle will now discuss the business of Ruzalia the pirate. Test?’ His voice entered Retra’s head, sibilant and intimate as if his lips were at her ear and his breath brushed the hairs on her neck. Her skin pimpled all over, as it had when she had first taken the Rapture pod.

Lenoir retook his seat and Test rose, the stiff frill of her hair collected into one dramatic spike that pointed out from the base of her skull. The leather of her waistcoat hugged her torso so closely that only its colour distinguished it from her skin. ‘Ruzalia has attacked and boarded barges from Grave, Mustafar and Lidol Push. In each instance she has taken the older ones. We are finding less and less reaching here.’

‘Then we owe her a debt, not a penalty,’ said a young Circle member in a confident voice.

‘Ruin. He was with Markes,’ said Suki, reminding Retra.

‘It is not such a simple matter, Ruin,’ replied Lenoir.

With each word he spoke Retra’s heart pounded in her chest and needles pricked her skin. Somehow his voice played with her senses.

‘Ruzalia’s raids on the barges are unsettling for the baby bats. Sometimes they become frightened and go with her on impulse. Another few were lost today. You see, she is not simply rescuing the older ones: she opposes Ixion on all counts. Guardians have been injured. She undermines our purpose.’

‘W-what is your purpose?’ asked Ruin boldly.

‘Your pleasure is our purpose.’ Lenoir smiled, but it did not ring true. ‘Brand? You of all of us have seen the worst of Ruzalia. What think you?’

Brand. Retra’s heart thumped as the scarred Riper came forward from the shadows.

The Riper’s fingers went automatically to the scars on both her cheeks, tracing them along their rough ridges in an unconscious gesture. ‘I say we set a trap for her and bring her in.’

‘A trap?’ Lenoir’s voice rose in interest.

Retra’s scalp-hair stiffened in response, as though his voice tugged at each root.

‘Let it be known that we have a special group whose time has come. Tempt her with them. Charlonge should be one of them. She has been here too long. Flaunt them under Ruzalia’s nose,’ said Brand.

Suki grabbed Retra’s hand. Not Charlonge!

‘The pirate would know it is a trap,’ said Lenoir.

‘Perhaps. Even so, she would not be able to resist.’

‘You think her that foolhardy?’ Lenoir chuckled. It was a softer sound and it flowed around Retra like tepid water.

Next to her Rollo shuddered. ‘What is it with him?’ he muttered. ‘Every time he speaks my skin crawls.’

Retra ignored him and leaned forward to the long-haired girl, Jaime. ‘Where do you think they take the Peaks?’

Jaime turned her head, barely. ‘The edge of the Spiral.’

‘What happens at the edge?’

The girl shrugged her shoulders with impatience.

‘No one knows what happens at the Spiral’s edge. Some say you can fall off this world,’ said Suki, with authority. ‘Or burn to bits. It’s been like that since the darkness came.’

‘But we got here all right,’ said Retra.

‘The getting here’s fine. Leaving is not. Or so the Ripers say,’ Rollo added.

‘Where does Ruzalia come from then?’

He shook his head. ‘Dunno.’

Jaime raised her hand to silence them.

Rollo pulled a face at Retra, but her attention had already returned to Lenoir and the Circle.

‘I think I know a way to ensnare her,’ said Brand. She turned and pointed to the shadows. ‘Present him!’

A Riper glided across to an altar at the opposite end of the cavern, where a figure knelt in a flowing white robe, his curling hair worn loose like a beautiful dark angel. He held a guitar carefully – lovingly – as he stood.

Markes.

He walked back to the centre altar, eyes focused on Lenoir, unaware of Retra or anyone else.

Jaime clasped her hands together. She gave a soft moan of pleasure. ‘Astonishing!’

‘What’s astonishing?’ whispered Retra.

‘A baby bat being brought into the Youth Circle … that’s never happened before.’

‘Why have they done that?’ asked Rollo.

‘Hush,’ said the girl. ‘You’ll see.’

‘Who are you?’ asked Lenoir.

‘I’m Markes.’ His voice was unnaturally thick and slow.

‘Play for us, Markes,’ said Brand.

Markes lifted his guitar and began the melody that had stirred so many people in Vank. For Retra it brought back the memory of how she had been after taking the Rapture pod – the abandon with which she’d danced, the desire, and then the clamouring demons. Even now the memory filled her with both chagrin and fear.

As Markes finished playing, a Riper with a high forehead and long, curling hair clapped her hands, sending the mass of bracelets on her bare arms jingling. ‘Brilliant, Brand! Ruzalia has high regard for artists. Remember the singer?’

The Ripers all laughed, except Brand, who gave a sly smile. ‘Thank you, Varonessa. Don’t you think a boy with such exceptional talent should be honoured by admittance to the Circle?’

‘Lenoir?’ asked Varonessa. ‘Don’t you agree that it would make sense?’

Lenoir shifted his weight in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. His face, though perfectly bland, emanated displeasure. ‘It’s not usual to bring a new one into the Circle.’

Brand went to stand alongside Markes. ‘It is not usual to find such talent, Lenoir.’

‘Do you wish to be admitted to the Circle, Markes?’

Markes lifted his head and looked into the eyes of each individual around the table, returning to Lenoir last. Retra thought his eyes seemed glassy and distant. What had he taken before coming here? What had Modai given him?

‘It would be my privilege, Guardian,’ Markes replied.

Lenoir shrugged. ‘Very well.’

‘The oath, please, Brand,’ said Varonessa.

The scarred Riper slid her tongue across the top of her lip and gave a throaty laugh. ‘Repeat these words … I pledge to uphold the Charter of Ixion and to follow its creed to my last worldly breath.’

‘I pledge –’

Dread filled Retra as Markes began to speak and she saw a demon crawl out of the cold stone floor and up Markes’s body using its wet teeth as another set of hands. It climbed surely towards his neck.

No! Retra leapt from her pew and ran towards the table.

A Riper caught her before she could reach Markes, strong fingers biting the flesh of her upper arm.

She struggled to get free. ‘Markes, don’t!’

The demon paused and swivelled its hideous head, its many wet eyes blinking at her.

Retra choked off a scream. It couldn’t be real and yet it looked so. What was happening to her? She hadn’t eaten a pod like the time before.

Lenoir – all of them – turned to stare as she hung suspended in the Riper’s grip.

‘What is it, baby bat? Why do you seek to interrupt Circle?’ Lenoir’s question sounded mild, but it flooded the darkest corners of her mind like torchlight. Retra found she couldn’t answer, robbed of words by embarrassment and fear. His look seared her, and in it she saw recognition. He knew her.

She dragged her eyes from Lenoir to Markes, imploring him to refuse.

He returned her look with one of surprise and confusion.

Lenoir saw their exchange and frowned. ‘Aaaah … a crush on another so soon? You have excellent taste, pretty baby, but no sense of decorum, or timing. Now I will ask you again, why do you seek to prevent this boy from his service to Ixion?’

Retra grappled for words. ‘I-I see danger for him – for all of you.’

‘You see danger?’ Lenoir gave her his complete attention now, his whole body tense with it, leaning towards her. She felt paralysed – trapped – by the weight of his presence and the glittering power in his eyes. His perfect lips fell apart, softening his face into something exquisite.

Retra’s skin hurt with the comprehension of it, as if she had been burned or stung or cut. And she knew immediately that she had made a mistake, speaking of her vision. ‘I mean … we are new here and I’m frightened for him.’

Lenoir’s eyebrows arched in surprise. ‘Truly?’

Retra summoned all the truth she felt in her answer. All the terror she harboured. ‘Yes.’

He leaned back in his chair and for a moment Retra thought he seemed unbearably sad. ‘But Ixion is a place of pleasure, not fear.’

‘That is not how I’ve found it.’ Retra straightened her body and looked to Brand.

The scarred Riper moved to Retra’s side with startling speed. ‘May I take her, Lenoir?’

‘Take, Brand?’ Another mild question.

‘That is … I mean … return her to a more suitable place.’

Lenoir gave the Riper a piercing look. ‘So obliging, Brand. I hope your intentions are honourable? Unlike your previous encounter with her.’

‘She seems more forthright than most. I would talk to her about unseemly displays. That is all.’

Retra heard the anger underlying Brand’s soft tone.

Lenoir’s eyes narrowed with mistrust, but he leaned back and draped a leg across the arm of his high-backed chair. ‘Take her back to Vank. Charlonge has a talent with the awkward ones.’

‘Not for much longer, Lenoir,’ said Varonessa.

‘Indeed, my dear. It is soon to be her time.’

Retra glimpsed his sadness again.

Brand raised her hand, signalling for assistance, and two more Ripers stepped forward, lifting Retra to their shoulders, hanging her between them like a hunting trophy as they carried her out of the chamber.

‘Retra!’ a voice shouted.

Suki. She wanted to call out to her friend, but her throat had closed tight with panic.

‘Let go of her!’ bellowed Rollo. He ran after the Ripers and barrelled against their sides, but his weight barely disturbed their momentum.

Then heavy doors closed behind her and she could no longer hear Suki or Rollo at all.