doesn't have a mind but I can still hear its heartbeat. Tick-tick-tick.”
“That's amazing,” Kite said.
“I am amazing,” Ember replied.
“So clever clogs, how do we get to Skyzarke then?” he asked.
“Didn't I say?” Ember replied. “Skyzarke is north of the Thundergrounds.”
Kite frowned. “You didn't say,” he said.
“I told you, I forget easily,” said Ember, and her chipped lips made a hollow huffing noise. “If you talked to me more often, instead of ignoring me, I might remember.”
Painful as it was Kite recalled what Ersa had told him last night. “Ember, I don't think this city of yours even exists,” he said.
“Yes, it does,” Ember said. “If the Umbrella Man still exists then so must Skyzarke. That horrible woman knew of it, so it has to be true. Ask her. Go on.”
“I can't,” Kite mumbled. “Ersa's gone, Ember.”
“Good,” Ember said. “I hated her.”
Kite sighed heavily. Explaining would be pointless. “Look, there may be Askians in Port Howling,” he said. “Hopefully they’ll help us find Skyzarke. They're bound to know the way.”
“I must find the Cloud Room, Kite Nayward,” Ember said. “I don’t want to be trapped inside this broken body any longer. I want to be whole again.”
Kite thought for a moment. The mechanikin was all he had now. Ember was more than just a thing of value. She was the link to finding the Askians. Kite didn’t believe in such things but somehow their fates were bound together.
“Look, don't speak to anyone except me, understand?” Kite said. “The Cloud Room, Skyzarke, all of it's our secret, right?”
Ember sighed. “Very well, but only if you keep your promise.”
“My promise?” Kite asked.
“You said you'd take me to the Cloud Room.”
“No, I didn't.”
“You have to keep a promise, Kite Nayward.”
“I'm not making any promises. I don't even know -”
In flash the eye shone a fierce red, turning Kite's hands dark as dried blood.
“Everyone knows that broken promises mean broken bones!” Ember's voice shrieked at him.
Inside their cowlings the Tailwind's turbines stuttered. Deck lanterns tinkled and dimmed. Somehow Ember was doing this. Just as she’d done to the Umbrella Man and - Kite realised with cold dread - the Monitor .
“Don't do this, Ember,” he said.
“Then promise me.”
His belly rose and plunged. Passengers screamed, suddenly alerted to the danger. The skipper swore viciously from his wheel. Was this how it had been for the doomed Weatherens on board the Monitor ? Those final helpless seconds before metal and fire ended their lives in the dunes of the Thirsty Sea.
“All right you've made your point!” Kite said.
“Promise me! Promise me now, Kite Nayward!” Ember demanded.
Sandstone ridges roared by on the starboard side. Jags of black rock ready to the tear open the air ferry's keel and scattered her scrap on the dry shore beneath.
“I promise!” Kite cried. “I promise!”
At once the turbines settled into a regular beat. The skipper pulled them away and she ascended to a safe height above the cliffs.
Kite gripped the mechanikin, hands shaking. Tears pooled under the leather rims of his goggles. The terror had dug all the emotion out of him. Now it came in great endless sobs. He wished he’d never taken the mechanikin from the Weatheren scientist. If he hadn’t been so hungry for profit Ersa would still be alive.
Worse than regret was the frustration he felt. Frustration at being robbed of the truth Ersa had promised to tell him. The truth about the Askians and Skyzarke. Of the empty spaces in his knowledge, that would finally make him understand why the Askians must forever hide from Foundation’s eye.
“Don't let me get angry again, Kite Nayward,” Ember said, her eye once more a sad blue. “Being angry is worse than being alone.”
The voice had changed back; tiny and frightened and distant. Kite imagined its owner, blind and trapped in some vast empty
“That's amazing,” Kite said.
“I am amazing,” Ember replied.
“So clever clogs, how do we get to Skyzarke then?” he asked.
“Didn't I say?” Ember replied. “Skyzarke is north of the Thundergrounds.”
Kite frowned. “You didn't say,” he said.
“I told you, I forget easily,” said Ember, and her chipped lips made a hollow huffing noise. “If you talked to me more often, instead of ignoring me, I might remember.”
Painful as it was Kite recalled what Ersa had told him last night. “Ember, I don't think this city of yours even exists,” he said.
“Yes, it does,” Ember said. “If the Umbrella Man still exists then so must Skyzarke. That horrible woman knew of it, so it has to be true. Ask her. Go on.”
“I can't,” Kite mumbled. “Ersa's gone, Ember.”
“Good,” Ember said. “I hated her.”
Kite sighed heavily. Explaining would be pointless. “Look, there may be Askians in Port Howling,” he said. “Hopefully they’ll help us find Skyzarke. They're bound to know the way.”
“I must find the Cloud Room, Kite Nayward,” Ember said. “I don’t want to be trapped inside this broken body any longer. I want to be whole again.”
Kite thought for a moment. The mechanikin was all he had now. Ember was more than just a thing of value. She was the link to finding the Askians. Kite didn’t believe in such things but somehow their fates were bound together.
“Look, don't speak to anyone except me, understand?” Kite said. “The Cloud Room, Skyzarke, all of it's our secret, right?”
Ember sighed. “Very well, but only if you keep your promise.”
“My promise?” Kite asked.
“You said you'd take me to the Cloud Room.”
“No, I didn't.”
“You have to keep a promise, Kite Nayward.”
“I'm not making any promises. I don't even know -”
In flash the eye shone a fierce red, turning Kite's hands dark as dried blood.
“Everyone knows that broken promises mean broken bones!” Ember's voice shrieked at him.
Inside their cowlings the Tailwind's turbines stuttered. Deck lanterns tinkled and dimmed. Somehow Ember was doing this. Just as she’d done to the Umbrella Man and - Kite realised with cold dread - the Monitor .
“Don't do this, Ember,” he said.
“Then promise me.”
His belly rose and plunged. Passengers screamed, suddenly alerted to the danger. The skipper swore viciously from his wheel. Was this how it had been for the doomed Weatherens on board the Monitor ? Those final helpless seconds before metal and fire ended their lives in the dunes of the Thirsty Sea.
“All right you've made your point!” Kite said.
“Promise me! Promise me now, Kite Nayward!” Ember demanded.
Sandstone ridges roared by on the starboard side. Jags of black rock ready to the tear open the air ferry's keel and scattered her scrap on the dry shore beneath.
“I promise!” Kite cried. “I promise!”
At once the turbines settled into a regular beat. The skipper pulled them away and she ascended to a safe height above the cliffs.
Kite gripped the mechanikin, hands shaking. Tears pooled under the leather rims of his goggles. The terror had dug all the emotion out of him. Now it came in great endless sobs. He wished he’d never taken the mechanikin from the Weatheren scientist. If he hadn’t been so hungry for profit Ersa would still be alive.
Worse than regret was the frustration he felt. Frustration at being robbed of the truth Ersa had promised to tell him. The truth about the Askians and Skyzarke. Of the empty spaces in his knowledge, that would finally make him understand why the Askians must forever hide from Foundation’s eye.
“Don't let me get angry again, Kite Nayward,” Ember said, her eye once more a sad blue. “Being angry is worse than being alone.”
The voice had changed back; tiny and frightened and distant. Kite imagined its owner, blind and trapped in some vast empty
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