City of Lies - Lian Tanner [51]
Squeeze around the corner—
“Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up!”
Squeeze around—
“Shut up!”
The sudden silence in the back of her mind was a shock. But a good one, she told herself. She had trusted the little voice, and it had betrayed her. It had betrayed all of them.
She found herself thinking about Ma and Pa, and how they had suffered because of her. A spasm of self-loathing shot through her.
On the stairs outside the tunnel, Smudge seemed to be arguing with Guardian Hope and Cord. “What, all of ’em?” he said, in a puzzled voice. “Even the snotty with the mice? ’E told my fortune once. I don’t reckon we should—”
“Yer not paid to reckon,” interrupted Cord. “You just keep yer trap shut and do what yer told. If Harrow wants ’em shot, then we shoot ’em.”
Shoot us? The air in Goldie’s lungs turned to ice. Beside her, Bonnie, Toadspit and Mouse gasped with shock.
“I didn’t say shoot them, you fool,” snapped Guardian Hope. “I said drown them.”
“What’s the difference? They’re just as dead.”
“If we shoot them, it’s murder. And it will raise far too many questions when their bodies are found. But if they drown, it’s just—an unfortunate accident.”
“How we gunna drown ’em if we can’t get at ’em?” said Cord.
“That’s the beauty of it.” Guardian Hope sat down on the stairs and raised her voice so that Goldie could hear every awful word. “There was a time when the city used these old sewers to drown pirates. A bit of rain and a high tide, and the water comes pouring in. It fills the whole cellar. Well, we’ve had the rain, and high tide is just after sunrise. All we have to do is wait here and make sure they don’t escape.”
“T-too much water!” whispered Bonnie.
Goldie’s legs were shaking more than ever. She tried to control them and couldn’t. This was her fault. This was all her fault.
“But I don’t—” said Smudge.
“Quiet!” Cord’s voice was urgent. “I ’eard somethin’ up near the roof. I think it’s the bird.”
Toadspit shuddered, as if he were trying to fight his way out of a nightmare. He grabbed Goldie’s hand. His fingers signed an urgent message against her skin. This our best chance. Come on.
Goldie stared at him. She felt as if a thick fog were pressing in on her from all sides. Or perhaps it was a chain, an invisible chain, wrapping its links so tightly around her that she could not move.
Her friends were going to die. And it was her fault.
Come on! signed Toadspit.
Still Goldie could not move. Toadspit stared at her, puzzled, then turned and threw himself down the tunnel, crying, “Morg! Morg! We’re here!”
There was a great flapping of wings outside the bars. One of the lanterns fell over, and Smudge shouted in fright. Guardian Hope screamed, “Get it! Shoot it! Catch it in the net!”
Goldie heard a pistol shot. “Aaaark!” screeched Morg, and fell to the ground with a thump.
Cord whooped with delight. “I winged it. Quick, chuck the net over it, Smudge.”
“What’ve you done to her?” cried Toadspit. “Morg, are you all right?”
Morg screeched again—with fury this time.
“Ooh, it don’t like bein’ trapped,” said Cord. “Just as well the net’s nice and strong. Look at that nasty old beak.” He chortled. “Nearly took your eye out, Smudge.”
“It’s a demon bird,” muttered Smudge. “Put a bullet through its ’ead.”
“No!” cried Toadspit. He fumbled on the floor of the tunnel, picked up a large stone and threw it through the bars.
“Ow!” said Cord. “You little—”
“Remember what I said, Cord!” But Guardian Hope’s warning came too late.
A second pistol shot echoed up and down the tunnel. Something clanged against the bars—and Toadspit collapsed in a heap.
The slommerkin made its stand in Forgotten Dreams. It had been running for hour upon hour, but now it turned, as if something had stung it, and came at Sinew in a rush. Its tusks dripped foulness. Its monstrous bulk swelled with rage.
The long chase had exhausted Sinew, and for the briefest of moments, he stood rooted to the spot. Then he dived to one side, fingers instinctively plucking at his harp