8
‘Please come in, Agent Lin.’
Lin paused at the doorway to adjust her gloves. They were fine, calf-skin leather, soft and flexible, and they annoyed her. Outside of the Winnowry she didn’t wear gloves at all, but these clucking hens would go spare if she didn’t. At least, if she must wear gloves, they could be fine ones.
She looked up into the flat metallic face of the sister who had been sent to usher her in. Her tone was polite, but it was clear she was also trying to keep out of arm’s reach. The trust between agents and the Winnowry was sometimes a very fragile thing.
‘This way please.’
The heart of the Winnowry was located near the furnaces rather than the prison; Lin could never decide whether it was because the acolytes of Tomas wanted to be near the warmth on this chilly, damp island, or because they wanted walls between them and the women they imprisoned. Likely it was both. When she had been a prisoner, Lin had enjoyed her brief visits to the furnace simply to warm up, but the central receiving room was not especially welcoming; the floor of cold, grey flagstones radiated the chill up through her boots, and the large square windows were full of bright, cheerless daylight. The long, curved table the acolytes sat behind was made from stone too, and the single seat in front of it, for want of a better word, was a simple, polished boulder. There was a small padded matt on top of it. Lin stood next to it, her back straight and her eyes on the far window.
‘Agent Lin,’ began Father Stanz. He leaned forward on the stone table, linking his fingers together. ‘I take it your last mission was successful?’
‘The targets were eliminated,’ said a short, stout woman to his left: Sister Resn. She looked furious for some reason, and her long blue gloves and silver mask lay on the table in front of her, as though she couldn’t bear to be parted from them.
‘Eliminated into some smears of soot and an unpleasant smell, as Sister Resn confirms,’ said Lin. ‘I had hoped for a rest before the next incident.’
‘No chance of that, Fell-Lin.’ This was Father Eranis, who always referred to Lin by her old title. She let her gaze fall on him, her face carefully blank. ‘We’ve had a girl get loose.’
Lin raised an eyebrow. ‘Loose?’
‘Took one of the bats from the chirot tower,’ continued Father Stanz. ‘We’re still looking into how she got that far in the first place, but as you can imagine, she needs to be brought back here as soon as possible. It is not safe for her to be outside of the Winnowry.’
‘A novice may have helped her,’ said Sister Resn. Her jowly cheeks were pink and trembled slightly with suppressed outrage. ‘We think she . . . seduced him. And she drained Sister Renier almost to the point of death.’
Father Stanz cleared his throat. ‘It is difficult to know exactly what happened, of course, but the alarms weren’t raised for some time.’
‘Who is the witch?’
‘Fell-Noon, of the plains people. You remember . . .?’
Lin raised her other eyebrow. ‘I do. I always said you should keep a special eye on that one. A great potential for . . . difficulties.’ She let the sentence hang in mid-air, inviting them to fill in the rest for themselves.
‘Not a problem for you, though, is it, Fell-Lin?’ Eranis leaned forward slightly. He probably thought he was being intimidating. ‘In fact, this particular case seems made for you. I’m sure a witch of – uh – your skills will have her back in no time. Crying and weeping and asking to be put back in her cell, no doubt.’
Lin ignored him. ‘Is there anything else you can tell me?’
‘You know her history. A murderer. And a liar too – her version of events never did add up.’ Stanz looked down at a sheaf of paper in front of him. ‘Mushenska is close enough to be a tempting hideout, of course.’
‘How likely was it that she and this novice were in a relationship? Do you allow more fraternisation now between novices and fell-witches?’
‘Of course not!’ Sister Resn’s cheeks turned even pinker. ‘But the temptation could fester. The witches are the cracks through which sin seeps into the world, and even the most innocent can be corrupted. A boy like that could have had his head turned. It has happened in the past, as well you know.’ She glared openly at Lin, almost as though daring her to say more.
‘Any family or connections she could be returning to?’
Eranis chuckled quietly. ‘The girl destroyed those herself a long time ago. I assume there will be no problems, Fell-Lin?’ There was an edge to his tone.
‘Of course not.’ Lin kept half an eye on Sister Resn’s outraged face, wondering if the woman would dare to say anything to her. When Lin had been a prisoner of the Winnowry, Sister Resn had patrolled the cells regularly, and Lin had frequently fantasised about boiling the skin off the woman, or simply ripping all of her life force from her in a brief, glorious second. She kept her face calm as she considered it. She was only allowed to operate as a free agent in the name of the Winnowry because they believed her to be utterly under control. And she was. Control was everything. It was a simple choice, really – live as a prisoner for the rest of her life, or take the freedom she was offered. The consequences of rebellion were . . . unthinkable. ‘I will find your runaway witch for you. If I should need to, do I have permission to remove the problem permanently?’
Father Stanz nodded solemnly. ‘We would prefer otherwise, of course, but it’s entirely possible she will be very dangerous to restrain. The Winnowry trusts your judgment.’
‘As you should. You’ll hear from me shortly.’
‘One more thing, Fell-Lin.’ Eranis was looking at the paperwork on the desk again, but couldn’t quite hide the smirk. ‘Mother Cressin wishes to have a word with you before you leave.’
Agent Lin held herself very still. Control. Always control. And then she nodded. ‘I will go there now.’
Mother Cressin kept her rooms in the highest tower of the prison side of the Winnowry, meaning that anyone called upon to visit her had to walk up a near-endless spiral staircase. There were narrow windows on the way up, but Lin didn’t bother to look through them. They only showed the featureless gloom of the sea, or the view across the bay to Mushenska, which was hidden within its own veil of fog.
The Drowned One.
That was what the fell-witches whispered to one another. Mother Cressin, rarely seen in the prison itself, would occasionally appear at purging sessions, her face hidden within a hood, or, if you were very unlucky and considered in need of further instruction in the ways of Tomas, you would be taken to her rooms.
At the top of the stairs was a driftwood door standing half open. Inside, the circular room was gloomy, the thick swathes of old netting covering the windows doing a good job of keeping the light out and the cold in. There was one small, half-hearted fire in the grate and no rugs over the icy flagstones. To Agent Lin’s right stood a tall figure, broad shoulders emphasised rather than hidden under a dark cloak, her hair pulled back from a face like a slab of beaten meat. Agent Lin nodded to the woman.
‘I am here to see Mother Cressin.’
The guard nodded to the back of the room, where the shadows were thickest. Fell-Mary, Mother Cressin’s assistant and bodyguard, had never spoken more than a handful of words in Agent Lin’s presence, which was something of a relief. Lin suspected that if Fell-Mary had a lot to say to you, you would be in serious trouble.
At the back of the room was an enormous, ornate tank. Sitting within a wrought-iron frame decorated with twisted metal shaped like seaweed, it was filled with what Lin knew to be seawater, and in the gloom she could just about make out a figure, sitting on its floor. Arms crossed, legs folded under her, Mother Cressin’s head was bowed, her face hidden. Lin could make out the pale fronds of her white hair, moving in a ghostly fashion around her head. Every now and then, a silvery bubble of air would escape from her mouth or nose and make its wobbly way to the surface. The water was very still.
Agent Lin took a breath, and held it for a few seconds, before turning back to look at Fell-Mary. The big woman didn’t move.
‘I am to wait here until Mother Cressin is ready to receive me?’
No reply. Agent Lin cleared her throat. She didn’t want to look at the woman in the tank, but her eyes were drawn back there all the same. She could hear the wind howling around the tower, and the sea-salt smell from the tank was thick in her nose. Slowly, slowly the cold was getting into her bones, and all the while she was too aware of her own breathing, strangely loud in the dismal room. It was always the same when you were summoned here; Mother Cressin’s strange ritual never failed to be deeply unnerving, and Agent Lin found herself taking deeper and deeper breaths, as though fighting against the pressure of the water herself. Meanwhile, the figure in the tank was utterly still, her face hidden. Lin didn’t want to think about how cold the water must be.
The Drowned One has the sea in her blood, the fell-witches whispered to each other, when the lights were out. Whatever Tomas and his disciples brought back from their own drowning, Mother Cressin had it still – some dark knowledge sifted from the lightless sands at the bottom of the ocean.
When she had been standing long enough to wonder if perhaps the old woman had finally died, peacefully expelling her last breath into the water, Mother Cressin unfolded her arms. The water swirled around her, a confusion of shadows and dust, and abruptly she pushed off the bottom and kicked to the top with precise, practised movements. Lin heard her break the water but thanks to the shadows saw only a glistening shape in the gloom. The old woman climbed down an unseen ladder and disappeared behind a screen. Fell-Mary crossed the room and retrieved an armful of dry clothes from a trunk, passing them swiftly behind the partition. From the small glance she got, Lin got the impression of black, salt-stained rags. She expected to wait until the Drowned One was dressed, but instead her voice floated up from behind the screen. It was quiet, the voice of someone who knew that those around her would rather strain their hearing than ask her to speak up.
‘They’ve told you of our missing charge?’
‘I have been briefed, Mother Cressin. I’ll have the girl back with us in no time.’
There was a strangled noise, of someone expelling air in disgust, or disbelief perhaps. ‘Not a girl. An abomination. Do not forget what you are, Fell-Lin, just because we let you walk free in the world.’
Lin stared steadily at the screen. It would be very fine, she thought, to pick the scrap of a woman up and tip her back in her bloody tank. See how long she could really hold her breath for. Or throw her out the window of her own damn tower.
Control. Control at all times.
‘I will not forget, Mother Cressin.’
‘The creature Noon is the fracture through which evil enters our world, just as you are. She taints it, poisons it. She must be controlled.’
‘Yes, Mother Cressin.’ Lin’s eyes shifted to Fell-Mary, but the woman was back to impassively staring at nothing. ‘Control is everything.’
‘Do you remember, Fell-Lin, when you were less than controlled?’ The Drowned One emerged from behind the screen, wrapped from head to ankle in hessian, dyed black. A deep hood hid her face, and her feet, as white as the underbelly of a fish, were bare against the freezing flagstones. ‘Do you remember the consequences of that?’
‘I was very young,’ said Lin. ‘And the blame doesn’t rest solely with me.’
Mother Cressin looked up sharply, and Lin caught a brief glimpse of a pale, round chin.
‘You dare? You dare lay the blame at the feet of our priests? You?’
Agent Lin kept her eyes on the tank. It was important to remember that as useful as she was to the Winnowry, there were always plenty of women waiting to take her place.
‘I am sorry, Mother Cressin. Truly, in Tomas’s name. I only meant that the consequence that you spoke of, is as much priest as fell-witch, and I would hope that is remembered, when the future – when future decisions are made.’
Mother Cressin turned away, apparently too disgusted to look at her. ‘It sits ill with me, Fell-Lin, that we must use your type at all. I would rest easier if every fell-witch were locked in a cell, or quietly taken from this world at birth. If there were a way to tell . . .’ She paused by the tank and extended one pale hand to touch the glass. The ends of all her fingertips were deeply wrinkled. ‘That way, we may start to truly cleanse Sarn.’ She turned back. ‘Until then, I am told I must suffer your continued existence. I want this cleared up quietly, the creature brought back. She will spend some time in the lower cells, and then she will begin a cycle of repeated purging.’
Agent Lin nodded. Repeated purging had been known to kill women before. It had the advantage of exhausting them beyond the capacity for thought, and providing a significant crop of the drug akaris.
‘It will not be difficult, Mother Cressin. The . . . creature is young and alone, with no family left to run to.’
Cressin nodded and turned away. She gestured towards the door. ‘Go. The sea calls me back.’
Agent Lin stood and watched the young man, letting the silence draw out between them. The Winnowry had stashed him away in a tiny cell somewhere in the bowels of the furnace, the only light from a pair of small oil lamps, high in the stone walls. He sat in its furthest corner, his head down. This was a punishment, of course, but also, she suspected, a neat way of preventing word of Fell-Noon’s escape from travelling around the prison. She had to smile at that. As if anything were ever kept quiet in a prison. He was young, his body smoothly muscled, and his white-blond hair was plastered to his head with sweat. He was bigger than her, no doubt stronger too, but he made no move to overpower her. The boy knew better than that.
He cleared his throat, and dared himself to look up at her. He clearly couldn’t bear the silence any longer. ‘Please,’ he said. ‘Who are you?’
In answer, she held her arms out to him, free of sleeves and gloves. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, a protective gesture. ‘Novice Lusk, I am the woman who is going to ask you questions. Do you know what I am?’
‘I’ve already told them.’ He met her eyes then, trying to put a brave face on it. How delicious. ‘The sisters have asked me over and over, and I told them exactly what happened.’
Lin nodded slightly, and began to rub her forearms together slowly. The soft rasp of skin against skin sounded loud in the tiny cell, and she saw his eyes flicker down to follow the movement. ‘The sisters told me. You said that Fell-Noon appeared unexpectedly in the chirot tower while you were performing your duties. She took you unawares, and threatened to kill you and the bats if you raised the alarm, but she didn’t actually drain you. Novice Lusk, you then saddled the bat for her yourself, and then stood by and watched as she made her merry way out into the wider world. Does that sound right to you? Does that sound like a thing that happened?’
‘That was what happened!’
She took a few slow steps towards him, and he cringed back against the wall.
‘What we’re thinking, Novice Lusk, is that perhaps you’d had some sort of dalliance with the girl. That you were fucking her, in short.’ She grinned at his shocked expression. ‘Oh, it happens, even in this miserable place. You don’t need very long really, and there were times when you were alone with Fell-Noon, unsupervised. Am I right?’ She came over until she was standing over him. ‘When I was still locked up in here, Lusk, you wouldn’t believe the number of priests who were fucking the women. It’s not natural, all of these people together in celibacy. I’ve always said so.’
Abruptly, she knelt and slid her arms around him, as if she meant to kiss him, but instead, at the warm contact of his skin she took, ripping his life energy from him savagely. He cried out, falling against her, and she felt him attempting to marshal himself, to draw back from her – the priests were trained, after all, to take this sort of punishment. She snaked one hand up and took hold of his jaw, turning his frightened eyes to meet hers. ‘You have so much to give, Novice Lusk. I can see why Fell-Noon was taken with you. Did you fuck her again before she left? Was that the price of her freedom?’
‘No.’ He forced the word out through lips that were rapidly losing their colour. ‘We never . . .’
‘How long can you hold out, do you think?’ She was genuinely curious. The boy was remarkably strong, and his energy had a purity she had not tasted for a long time. After a while, you started to sense things about the people whose energy you took; she was beginning to believe that the boy didn’t have a single lie in his head. It was remarkable. Meanwhile, his energy was gathering inside her, a storm with nowhere to go. Holding it steady within her – control, always control – Agent Lin pulled away just as the boy began to shake. Free of her, he slumped to the ground, shivering as though he were caught in a blizzard. That lovely warm skin of his would be cold now, she knew.
‘One of the strongest I’ve tasted, if I’m honest,’ she said to the room at large. She walked back towards the door and turned to face Novice Lusk, nursing the tide of stolen life energy within her. It would have to come out, and soon. Even the most skilled Fell-Witch couldn’t hold on to it indefinitely. ‘Did she tell you anything about where she intended to go, Novice Lusk?’
He lifted his head a touch, still shaking. His eyes were glazed, and the tips of his fingers had turned grey. She hadn’t depleted him completely, but Lin thought he might die anyway – it was careless of her.
‘Nothing,’ he croaked. ‘She said . . . nothing . . . to me.’
‘Not even when you were fucking her, Lusk?’
He glanced up at that, his eyes widening, and she chose that moment to release the fire. Arms up, palms open, fingers spread; a blossom of winnowfire as green as fresh, new grass bloomed in the tiny cell, curling towards the shivering man on the floor. Agent Lin heard his abrupt, ragged scream and smiled to herself – with a gesture she increased the temperature of the flames, and his screams took on a panicked tone. The fire would be close – not close enough to kill him, not yet, but close enough to scorch. She closed her hands and folded her arms into her chest – enough – and the roar of green fire died instantly.
‘Any more thoughts on that, Lusk?’
The boy was curled like a baby on the floor, his hands over his face. As she watched, he patted rapidly at the hair on his head, which was singed. It crisped away under his fingers. His knees and shins and the tops of his shoulders were a bright, shiny red, and his face looked a little like he’d been out under the hot sun all day.
‘Please,’ he gasped between blistered lips. ‘Please.’
She chuckled to herself. ‘Well, I can hardly resist.’
This time she turned her hands to face each other and funnelled a line of fire to the space next to the novice’s feet. He shrieked, pulled his feet up and away, scrambling to push himself into the far corner, but she followed, sweeping the line of winnowfire up so that it brushed the delicate soles of his feet. The cell rang with the sound of screaming as the sweet scent of burned flesh filled the air. Agent Lin took a long, slow breath inwards, savouring it, before pulling her arms back to her chest and quieting the fire. The energy he had given her was nearly gone now, but she didn’t think she would need more. The boy was crying, clutching at his ruined feet.
‘The city,’ he gibbered, tears streaming down his scorched face. ‘When she took Fulcor, they flew towards the city. I watched them, I watched them fly, and it looked as though she landed there.’
‘Of course,’ said Agent Lin, cheerfully enough. She went to the door. ‘Thank you, Novice Lusk. I’ll tell them you weren’t in collusion with the witch, of course. For what it’s worth.’
The chirot tower was empty save for the bats. It was mid-afternoon, and the animals were all nestled snugly in their alcoves, soft rumbles and keenings in place of snores – all save for one. Lin walked over to the empty space and stood looking at it for a while. The white bat taken by Fell-Noon had not returned, suggesting that she still had it. This was good news for Lin, as a giant bat was hard to miss, particularly in the skies to the south of the mountains – however, it also meant that they could be almost anywhere. The Winnowry’s giant bats were bred to be resilient and tough, and could fly continuously for almost an entire night.
Turning from the alcove, Lin walked to the roofless section of the tower, where the bat mount she had been assigned waited for her, ready to leave. The creature’s leathery face was latticed with scars, and its black fur was streaked with grey behind its large crinkled ears, but its eyes watched her with bright intelligence. Smiling faintly, Lin sank her bare hands into the animal’s fur.
‘Ugly creature.’ She took a touch of its life-force, just a touch – enough to warm her against the endless bloody damp of the Winnowry. The bat gave a high-pitched whine and shuddered under her fingers, while she felt the latent power curl inside her. She would be glad to be away from this cold, dead place and back in the land of the living. There was so much life to be taken, after all. ‘Little Fell-Noon won’t be lost for long.’