The Scar - China Mieville [234]
“You have to hear me,” Bellis growled, trying to shout. “You have friends, man; you can spread the word . . .” She broke off and twisted with pain as Angevine put a hand on her back. “Do you know where we’re going?” she managed to say. “Do you know why we’re in this sea, where nothing moves like it should?”
She saw Tanner look to Shekel and then to Angevine, and watched them share a look of blank bewilderment.
“Listen,” Bellis shouted as Angevine pushed her out of the door to a final chorus of Tanner’s cursing.
By the time she had walked slowly across the city’s bridges to the library, blood had come through Bellis’ bandages, and her shirt was spotted. She found the bombed quarter of the Pinchermarn, where the librarians were recovering what volumes they could from the wreckage.
“Bellis!” Carrianne was stunned by her.
Bellis was slightly delirious again. “Now you have to listen to me,” she murmured.
And they were outside again, and Carrianne’s arm was around her, protective. Bellis’ back was dreadfully painful, and she was wincing as she said to Carrianne, “Johannes. Tearfly. Carrianne, you have to help me find Johannes Tearfly . . .”
Carrianne nodded. “I know, Bellis,” she said. “You just told me.”
They were in a room Bellis did not recognize, then another, so tired now that she felt faint. And Carrianne and Bellis were hanging over the city in the dark air, Armada’s lights going out with complex timing. Bellis heard her own voice several times, though it sounded very strange to her.
She felt an ecstatic cold pain, and looked up and was on her own bed, in her chimneytop rooms, and it came to her—more like a leap of imagination than a memory—that Carrianne had lifted the bandage from her back and was smearing unguent on her. Bellis closed her eyes. She could hear something—some soft, repetitive sound.
“Gods. Gods. Gods. Gods.”
It was Carrianne’s voice. Bellis turned her head to one side and through blurred eyes saw her friend’s face over her, staring down, wincing, biting her lip as she rubbed in the cream.
What’s wrong? Bellis tried to say, for a second thinking her friend had been hurt; but then she realized, of course, what was wrong, and could not help whimpering a little for herself.
The next time she opened her eyes, Carrianne and Johannes were both there, drinking her tea, talking awkwardly as they sat by her bed.
It was night. Bellis’ head had cleared.
Johannes started when he saw her move.
“Bellis, Bellis,” said Carrianne gently. “Gods’ sake, girl . . . what did you do?”
Carrianne was horrified. Bellis was deeply grateful for her ministrations, but she would not explain her wounds.
“She doesn’t want to talk to us about it,” Johannes said nervously. He seemed genuinely concerned, but uneasy. “I mean, you can see . . . she’s been on the wrong side of . . . She’s probably lucky to even be here.”
“Godsdammit, Bellis,” Carrianne said, furious. “Who gives a fuck about them.” The wave of her arm took in authority. “Tell us, what did they do you for?”
Bellis could not help smiling. He’s right, though, she thought, lifting her bleary eyes to Johannes. Pusillanimous coward that he is, and magnificent and brave and loyal to me (gods know why) as you are, Carrianne, he’s right about this. You should stay out of this. Like it or not, I’ll help you do that. I owe you.
“You found him then?” she managed to say.
“Carrianne’s been amazingly assiduous,” Johannes said. “She got a message to me.”
Bellis straightened a little in her bed and set her face against the movement of her broken skin.
“I need to talk to you,” she said, her voice getting stronger. She shook her head slowly. “I’ve been . . . The last week . . . I’ve been alone. And, and everything’s been changing around us. You must have seen it. But I know what it is; I know what’s going on.”
She closed her eyes and was silent for many seconds.
“You know where we are?” she said finally. “You know what waters we’ve entered?”
Carrianne and Johannes looked at each