City of Ruin - Mark Charan Newton [120]
‘At least it is not my own blood,’ the being grunted, following Randur’s gaze. ‘Or yours, for that matter.’
‘True,’ Randur admitted. ‘It’s just that . . . you know, we’re, uh, not quite sure what to think of some man just falling out of the sky.’
‘I am female . . . And maybe it is best if you do not think of anything for the moment. Now, let us move further into the clearing.’
‘Perhaps’, Randur suggested, ‘you could help get rid of these chains first?’ The creature leaned over, and with an effortless tug pulled the metal apart.
‘Very kind,’ Randur said, stunned at the display of strength.
They stepped across the fresh graveyard, where limbs lay ripped and broken all about them, a glade of the dead. Rika could not bear to lower her gaze.
‘I have been following you ever since Villjamur,’ Artemisia repeated. ‘All in all, this escape of yours has upset my plans greatly. Had you remained inside your little city then the task would have remained simple. As it is, I have had to follow your trail. It has not been easy.’
‘Sorry we inconvenienced you . . .’ Randur offered bitterly. ‘Spot of bother with the business of trying not to die—’
‘You talk too much, Earthlander.’
‘There’s no point in trying to silence him,’ Eir muttered.
Randur grunted. ‘Look, very nice of you to help us out, uh, Artemisia? But . . . any chance of an explanation?’
‘I do the questioning around here, Randur Estevu – if that is still the name you go by.’
‘How do you know my name? And how did you know they were from the Jamur family?’ He nodded towards the sisters.
‘I often wonder,’ Artemisia replied, ‘how it is you people know so little. I employ a network of sub-agents and lower-rank emissaries from your world – even from Villjamur – although they know not who they ultimately serve.’ She pointed them to the spot in the clearing where she had first appeared, and turned her face skyward.
Randur stepped alongside, and followed her line of sight. ‘I don’t see anything.’
Suddenly something flickered into being up there, a hulking dark shape immediately beneath the clouds. The three humans were soon staring, dumbstruck. How could anything so big just hover there without falling?
Eir finally broke the silence, as she spluttered, ‘What . . . what is that?’
‘Exmachina,’ Artemisia growled. ‘A home, of sorts, for the present moment.’
Eir turned to Randur, to see if he knew what Artemisia was talking about, then shrugged. Rika seemed to be completely in awe of this female giant, which was strange, since she was seldom disconcerted by anything.
Randur studied further the freakish object in the sky. It had the appearance of a small moon, assuming an inverse colour to the sky beyond. As it approached it took on the form of some fat longship, incomprehensibly large, extending widely across the sky. A floating island. Its presence was intimidating and he was becoming genuinely frightened.
Still some distance away, something unravelled down from it to eventually reach the ground by Artemisia’s feet. Then another rope followed.
Suddenly the big woman twisted round: there’d been a disturbance in the distance that provoked her. Her head became perfectly still, and she held a big hand out to request silence. Faintly, somewhere, Randur thought he could hear the sound of a pipe. He reached down to pick up a sabre discarded in the recent combat.
Artemisia frowned at him. ‘That won’t do you much good.’
‘You anticipating much of a threat?’
‘One could say that, Randur Estevu. There have been certain forces tracking me ever since I’ve stepped into this blasted world. How they have managed it, I do not know.’
What is she on about, stepping into this