The Book Eaters: 6

0:00Welcome to Stories from Among the Stars, you're listening to The Book Eaters by Sunye Dean, narrated by Katie Erich. CHAPTER XI Ramsey the charge, present day. When the game is going against you, stay calm and cheat. George McDonald Fraser, flash man at the charge. Ramsey looked at Eland, the latter frozen with indecision. Get the dragon and get out of here, both of you. He shot to his feet. The centre of the train station have become a swirling maelstrom of ink, sudden paper, courtesy of the corpse as Devon's friend had left behind. Passersby was screaming and security, or police or both, would be here any moment.

1:03Wait! Eland sounded panicked. What about Kinsey's orders? Foot Kinsey, get out before the humans arrest her. Ramsey called over one shoulder, sprinting after his sisters fast-disappearing form. I'll be in touch. This whole situation was so typical of Devon. And when they were children, she would charge her head into the woods into ravines over cliff edges and up shear walls, never thinking of what awaited. Never giving thought to whether a tree branch might snap beneath her feet, whether gutters and pipes not made for climbing could hold her weight, or just whether whatever the fuck she was doing was a good idea, full stop. She didn't bloody think. It had always fallen to him, this job of chasing a down of bailing around or rescuing her sorry ass when she got into trouble. She would have disagreed with his assessment and spun her selfishness as a choice on his part, so stay at home then, would have argued that she'd never forced him to participate

2:06in her escapades, and never asked you to come with me, dummy. But she thought that way because she lacked responsibility and insight. Ramsey lacked neither. It was the responsibility of men to rescue women from themselves, and men of the families did not shy from duty. Duty bade he ran after her, he just wished she didn't run quite so fast. Shops, faces and peeling paint walls flew by as he bounded and sprinted in her footsteps. He stormed through it all, agrived by the chaos and sloppiness. It wasn't all Devon's fault, if he's being honest. In fact, his commander, Kinsey, bore the lion's share of the blame. If Ramsey had been in charge, they'd have hung back, followed at a distance. They should have tried to find out why Devon was travelling with a Ravens car, and where she was going, rather than leaping to a costable man. But Kinsey hadn't been around to lead the men himself, nor had he left any specific instructions

3:10other than intercept any Ravens cars you find, even though that was clearly a stupid course of action. The only Ravens car who knew anything worthwhile was Killik himself, and captured him one of his useless siblings, would only have risked scaring the bugger off. Too late now, the most senior knighted panicked, acted reflexively to follow Kinsey's tense dev orders, and got shot for their trouble. Now the quarry was spooked, the humans had noticed them, disaster and mess everywhere. They'd be lucky if Killik didn't go into hiding after this. Ahead, Ramsey caught a glimpse of Devon's tall form as she flunk herself and her two companions aboard the 1015, saw, as he forces likes to pump her faster speed, had the doors to their carriage slam shot, engine beginning to gather momentum, hell of a jump from here to the train. He went for it anyway, was out of options otherwise, carriages pulled away from the station,

4:12and he leaped in a great muscle tearing bound, 15 feet near enough, and it worked, he landed, hands clamping onto the external handrails that bracketed the doors, feet scrabbling for purchase on the hanging step, sweat breaking out across his skin. The 1015 to Edinburgh, departed from Newcastle station into the darkness of on Northumbrian winter night, gathering to a pace that even a night would have found impossible to match. Eaters were fast, but not that fast, a few seconds to breathe while his heart slowed to a reasonable beat, feet braced firm. Ramsey wrenched the doors partway open, half squeezed, half stumbled inside, panting from exersion, relieved to have salvaged something from this mess. The last carriage was not meant for passengers. Staff-only compartment with machinery, lockers in a broken snacks trolley. The one occupant, a lone middle-aged ticket collector, shot to his feet pale with shock.

5:17Humans always had a kind of nervous energy that reminded Ramsey of chickens. The ticket collector fluttered at him, so passengers are not supposed. Ramsey swung a hard punch to the temples, the man dropped. Nothing personal, mate. He bent over the unconscious figure and scavenged himself a new identity. Night began. Ramsey shed his appearance as a snake shed its skin, tossing aside his own clothes to don the conductors' kit, a black uniform jacket, butons intricately rough. Didn't fit well, though. He was both leaner and broader than the man whose clothes he'd taken. Fabric pulled tight across his back, seems pinched to shoulders. Small considerations. He pushed them aside, kept dressing. The transmitter under his shirt pressed its hard edges against his ribs as he changed. His secret weapon against dev, for keeping her in check.

6:19He patented it fondly. Flat cat next, pulled low across the forehead, changed the shape of his face. He lights that. The jaunty angle made him look harmless. The trousers and shoes he left alone. His own dark slacks and leather brooks would do. The ticket machine came last, slung over one shoulder. The heavy metal weight of it felt good. Could pretend he had a gun, like lads in films, like that Ravens car bitch. A red scarf hung from a peg, he plucked that off, wound it around his neck. It hid his mouth, made him look stockier, hopefully enough that Hester wouldn't recognise him if she saw him again. Disguise complete, he hoisted the semi-naked ticket collector under the armpits and tossed the man, still unconscious, through the half open carriage exit. The soft body tumbled and rolled, soon out of sight along the disappearing length of track.

7:20Perhaps the man had survived, or perhaps not, it didn't matter. What did matter is that he would not wake up on the train at an inconvenient time and cause problems. Ramsay checked for the emergency hunting knife struck to the inside of his leg and relocated it. Still sheathed, of course, to an inside jacket pocket. Time to find Devon. He paused at the entrance of the connecting passageway before entering the next carriage. So listen, and then to look. Minimal chatter, a nothing of his quarry. Several people tried to show him tickets or buy new ones. Ramsay told them the machine was broken and they left him alone. The next carriage and the one after that were the same, thickly populated with tired, sweaty humans trying to make it home before the start of their pointless holiday, also notably empty of his sister and her companions. The smell of so many people in close quarters made him glad for the scalfy ball.

8:20At least no one tried to buy a ticket. Six minutes after boarding, Ramsay located his sister. He caught the sound of a child laughing while out in a connecting passageway, mixing with the low, unfeminine pitch of Devon's voice, alert and wary, he paused by the exit of the fourth carriage, listened at the loosely shuttered door of the fifth carriage. And get too comfortable, we're not home and dry yet, alilting nor the sounding voice. Must be the Ravens car woman who killed his men with such efficacy. Wish I brought more bullets, just in case and all that. Ramsay listened, intrigued. He'd always fancy a don in a pistol, done a bit of target practice for four months or twice. The paperwork required for them was awkward though, as it would be for any regular bookie leader. You're a ridiculously good shot, Devon, unmistakably her voice. Four clean kills in a handful of seconds all moving targets.

9:23Where did you get the gun? He'd heard enough, had to move quick. Ramsay took out the transmitter, holding it in one hand with his thumb on the button. Would look like a walkie-talkie to the casual observer. The ticket-collecting machine he held in the other hand. Trigger finger-ready, he opened the shuttered door with an elbow and shuffled in. All three of his quarry sat on the floor of the connecting passage between carriages. And all three looked up sharply as he entered. Hester Ravens car. He recognised her at once, had studied the files and family photographs to death, was non-descript, having either a beautiful face nor an interesting figure, dressed like a recovering hippie. If he hadn't already seen how deadly she was, he would have dismissed her entirely. The boy, Kai, was also visually uninteresting, small, slight, dark-haired, nothing to indicate the true monstrous nature beneath.

10:26Devon though, looked like a poster-child for dikes on bikes, tall and wrangly, hacked off hair, all black clouds and far too much leather, slouched against the wall like some delinquent city youth, a far cry from the lace-skirted girl in braids he recalled from long ago, his sister blanched with shock as he walked in. Disguises didn't mean much at their level of familiarity, her gaze dropped to the transmitter held firmly in his fist, and her jaw tightened. Even in Leides, Ramsay said, still half-barried in the winter scarf, hat pulled low almost to the eyebrows, comical under other circumstances. I'm afraid we don't allow passengers to sit on the floor in this path of the train, mind if I move you along to the carriage. You two get seats, Devon said, climbing to a feet. Our BIOS tickets and catch up in a second. Did you say we were heading to Edinburgh?

11:27Edinburgh, yes, said Hester, after a pregnant pause. And Ramsay could sense the tension rolling off her. Reluctant to share information, I guess. But she moved off quickly enough with kai at her heels. Probably keen to avoid further questions. When the connecting door shut after them, Ramsay said calmly. If I were actually hunting you, you'd be finished. With ten seconds to give me an explanation for that massacre back there. How did you even get? She began. Then why has he checked herself for once, swallowing the question. Your men attacked us first. What was I supposed to do? Grab her gun. I might as well admit I'm a traitor and working for the families. She looked guiltily over one shoulder, as if the Ravens carwoman might burst through, high inventions. None of that tar. A simple heads up about what you were doing, where you were going, and who you were with

12:30would have been nice. Ramsay wasn't going to blame his superior in front of her. At the moment we have an entire squad dead, and footknows what'll happen to the two people I left behind. Again, what was I supposed to do? She bit back. Her gaze kept going toward the transmitter. As a thought, don't come running after us next time. I didn't know she had a sodding gun in any case. As she told you who she is, sweats made his palms slick, but he kept a firm grip on the transmitter, and a call six feet away from Devon. Cump me too sure she wouldn't try anything. Or what she wants from you. Obviously, Devon said, clearly annoyed. He's a Ravens car, and it's taken me straight to kill it, like you wanted. Isn't that the whole point of me dragging Kai through this hell? It is. Yes. He fiddled with the ticket machine. Stupid thing.

13:31Hard to work one-handed, but he didn't dare remove his thumb from the transmitter. Where was she taking you? Is Edinburgh your final destination, and what's been agreed? Somewhere in Scotland, that's all I know. Fairly sure Edinburgh isn't the final destination, only a place to change over. Leather-clad arms crossed. They're offering me redemption, but I must agree to live under Ravens car rules. It's complicated. Interesting. Immused. Still, it doesn't matter what they're asking for, because you won't be hanging around or living with them long term, no? It's all ends once we find Killock. He finally got the stupid machine to spit out two tickets, and profit them carefully across the distance between them. How long till the next stop? What even is the next stop? 18 minutes till we arrive at Berwick on tweed, she snatched the tickets from his grasp.

14:31Don't you eat train schedules for your local area? Aren't you a sarcastic cow? Ramsay had better things to fill his brain with than train schedules. That was her job. Here's what we do. Five minutes from now, I'll be pulling the emergency stop and turn enough for lights if I can access them. When that happens, convince this Hester Ravens car that nights must have made it on board, and that the three of you should disembark early. You want us to abandon the train, she said, incredulous. What will you be doing? Making your lie into truth, naturally. Me, my knife, and a carriage of shriek in innocence will give you all the panicked stampede and needed to fuel the story of nightly pursuits. Christ Ramsay, how many people are you planning to kill? Non, you adult, only frighten them enough to get a few running and screaming up and down this train. My fucking chickens, he thought, with him as the fox.

15:31But why, she hissed, what's the point of all that theatre? The point is the disruption itself, he said sweetly. You may not trust me at present, no shit, but I am invested in your success, at least for this moment in time. So ruin Miss Ravens car's plan, keep her off balance, still get to your secret location but on our terms, not hers. In short, stay alive, Devon, and stay smart. Remember, Killick didn't send this sister of his because he thought she was incompetent. This cow killed four trained men tonight without blinking. Don't let her keep any edge on you. Devon surprised him by sucking in her cheeks and saying, fine, then we might as well go the extra mile, make it particularly convincing. And a night or two out to scout for us, give us bogey men to hide from and dodge.

16:33He nodded again. Not a bad idea. We'll track your phone and send a night to intercept the pair of you along the road, if we can get one out in time. Have a little car chase or something, Ramsay ran his tongue over his teeth. But keep this one alive, please. I'm tired of cleaning up bodies, and nights are not indefinitely expendable. At the opposite these days, I can't promise that just do your best. Ramsay flicked her forehead like he had when they were children. She scowled. Don't get any funny ideas about running off with these people and their magic pills, eh? Because I will always catch her when you're run. Always. Remember that. She curled her fists, said nothing. Go, he said, waving the transmitter. Before a change remained on this entire venture and blow your son into next Thursday. The one security he held against her.

17:35The ability to end Kai's life from a distance at the press of a button. And remember, I'm not the only one with the transmitter. Of course I remember, I was already going. Kevin whirled away from him and back toward the carriage. Tickets still clutched to her chest. Make it convincing, he called after her. You had a lot riding on this. She didn't look back, but he caught the flinch of her shoulders and was satisfied. Ramsay watched I leave, then drew out his knife. I had the carriages he'd come through, remember in the smell of them, anticipating their noisy tiring chaos, the claustrophobic way they crashed around him. Get on with things, he told himself, and tightened his grip around the hilt. Chapter 12 The Princess and the Goblins.

18:36Eight years ago. It was foolish indeed, thus to run farther and farther from all who could help her, as if she'd been seeking a fit spot for the goblin creature to eat her in at his leisure. But that is the way fear serves us. It's always sides with the thing we were afraid of. George Mcdonald, the Princess and the Goblins. Pursuit wasn't immediate. For the first half hour, Devon fled blindly through the tangled trees, both elated and unnerved to hear nothing but silence. For so long, she was cut and bruised from stumbles in the woods, and very lost. No going back, though. She pushed onward through snow and crusted trees and mulchy half frozen earth, and came up against a tall barbed wire fence. The edge of fair weather, mana. The land beyond was unknown to her, no going back.

19:36Devon flung herself against the fencing, toes and fingers easily find in purchase. Up and over, she landed in an awkward roll on the other side and set off in the snow toward where she thought Birmingham was. A big city, surrounded by roads, only a couple of hours drive, finding the Winterfields home would surely be a matter of ease. The families were not on her side. This realisation struck Devon like a bell-ringer with a gong mallet, shaking her all the way through, even as her lungs burned and her feet pounded the underbush, nose full of the scent of ever-greens and fresh snow. The families were her blood relations. People she loved and had been loved by, her entire world. They were now her great enemy. In fact, they always had been. However loving her childhood, her flesh was still theirs, her goods for the selling. Like pigs or chickens raised for the slaughter, she had developed affection for her keepers,

20:41and they for her. But that did not stop her from being consumed. Pig farmers still chewed their bacon with enjoyment, affection only made cruelty ruffle. In the distance behind her drilled a soft, high whistle, pursuit. Her skin broke into goose bumps and Devon ran harder. She hadn't done much running about since Salem's birth, but desperation lent her strength. Evasion should still be possible if she could get somewhere with people, where the knights might be shy to a cost. Except she feared dashing across the moreland. Out in the open with knights streaming toward her on motorcycles, dragons clinging to their backs. Here, at least, she could lose them for chunks of time, hide her tracks and her noise in the tangle of frosted woodland, closer to a town, and she might have made it. As it was, less than two hours after leaving the manor, she had knights fanning out on all sides, barely 50 metres away, and Ramsay among them.

21:47She couldn't see him, but she'd heard him shouting. New is voice too well. All the figures darted with furtive strides, all of them black clad and wearing ubiquitous motorcycle helmets. A snapshot flashed through her brain as she ran. Luton bending over a newborn Salem. The tongue has anyone checked. Dragons lived at the periphery of her world as voiceless operations. She knew them to be twisted, crazed children who sported proboscis instead of bucty, who hungered for minds instead of books like a kind of watered down zombie, who lived in a night-run facility somewhere near Oxford because they could not be trusted to resist their own hunger, even with redemption to hand. She knew too that they were now wielded by knights to troubleshoot family problems as an uncle had once put it. Devon, it seemed, was now a family problem. One, they had no compunction about solving and violence or lethal ways should she step out of line.

22:49If a dragonquarter, he'd unfurl a hideous mosquito tongue and stick it down area, a gross parody of intimacy and suck her life, memories entire psyche away in less than a minute. Ramsay called out something in Latin. The high-pitched whistle sounded again. And fear like Devon had never known before riddled her body with sudden weakness. She zigzagged in a blind panic, too breathless to even scream. Girl, stop! The closest dragon had a voice like a bullhorn, and he wore no helmet, veins ran dark beneath his abnormally pale face, the skin pallid from lack of sunlight. So much for voiceless, faceless or mindless. Fear lent fire to her feet. She didn't stop. Choosing instead to sprint across a dry broken up a crumbling bank, Devon ducked beneath a set of low-hanging branches and crashed straight into a living nightmare, another mind-eater,

23:52who had somehow circled in front of now flung himself at her. They both fell to the ground struggling. He was even taller than she, and more thickly built. Dark eyes bulged, the pupils made himpricks. He tried to hold her down, spittle flying from parted lips, lips hiding a proboscis tongue. Revulsion surged into strength, and she headbutted him hard. He howled like a wounded wolf, blood splattering from his nose. Devon shoved him to the side, rolled to her feet, and lost the breath from her lungs as two more dragons barrelled her over. Outnumbered three to one. Devon punched, clawed, kicked with a fierceness that surprised and exhilarated her. She tussled with her brothers as a child, but not for years, and never like this. Fear melted away, freeing her limbs and tightening her reflexes. It wasn't enough.

24:52One moment she was ripping someone's hair out by the fistfuls while kicking another person in the shins. The next moment she was somehow down on the ground, the first man kneeling on her chest with his hands around her neck, while a second grabbed her legs and the third pinned her wrists. She never even saw the night's arrive. Didn't notice them filtering through the trees or his ramsie-shouting, low-comtenitum to the dragons. A snapping sound, like an oversized rubber band, followed by a pinch in her chest. A sky's worth of lightning-bolts flooded Devon's body, pain crackled through her muscles. It felt like strings of acid winding through her flesh. The longest five seconds of her life before the taser burst finally ended. Her mouth was full of blood, she'd bitten her tongue. None of her limbs worked and whosiness crept into her skull. Someone gave a sharp whistle, and the dragons withdrew,

25:52making grumpy, huffing noises. I'm sorry, Dev, ramsie came to stand over her. Taser guns still pointed at her, but you have to learn, and this is your lesson. If you're run, we will always catch her. I will always catch her. Devon stared up at him, crucified by a mix of emotions. She should have been getting up to flea, but left the G-wader bones, and her body cringed in remembered agony was a taser supposed to hurt so much. Or was this a particular agony that only bookies has felt? Back in the day, they add ways of dealing with girls like this, said a green eyed knight, stepping into her field of vision. Fit girls with ankle tags and all sorts, maybe a sister needs one of those, huh? Nah, she won't do it again. Ramsie nudged her with his toe. Will you, Dev?

26:54She tried to speak, couldn't. Try to spit, couldn't do that either. Breathe in was a challenge. Nights filtered through the trees around her, soundless and eerie. No, not soundless. She was losing sound and sight, dizziness encroached, bringing blackness with it. She woke the next morning in lay in bed, feeling sick. Someone had finally changed her out of the silly party frockin' into an ants' prime night dress. The collar itchy around her neck with unnecessary lace. A part of her wanted to get up. Try again, run for the hills the second time. Her body refused to budge. She was weak from not eating and from too much running. Week two with fear and trauma. Dragons were a terrifying thing.

27:55To her shame, she still hadn't moved several hours later when I came by, carry in a selection of books on a platter. I hear you have not eaten since returning to us from the winter fields yesterday, he said. Can I persuade you to take some sustenance? He wasn't callin' her princess at least, and she would never call him uncle either. Dev and remain curled in her bed and staring straight ahead, ignoring the prophet food. She did not want to eat anything he had handled. Ike set the platter down and touched. I am sorry about the hunt, but you left us little choice. Dev and found it hard to care about his apology. What happens now? Will you put a tag around me, uncle? Track me like a wild animal. You blinked. A tag round. Oh, good lord. No one has done that in years. In any case, it was only ever night who resorted

28:55to such barbaric practices. You are still a daughter of this house. Your daughter, just bloody say it. I'm your daughter and will be treated as such. He wouldn't say it. Only looked at her tight-lipped and brown-filled. The great fortress she could not crack. Bastard. She whispered. As for what happens, we leave you to consider your actions and your options. Said Ike with skin-crawling gentleness. You have one more marriage contract to fulfill and one more child to offer up. I don't want to get married again. The idea of a second wedding made her byel rise. Once it had given a goose bumps of excitement. Devon. He interlaced his fingers. Looked best. You do not have a choice. None of us do. The survival of our species depends on every eater

29:57playing their part. Do you understand how few firt our women remain of our kind? How difficult it is to negotiate marriages that not only benefit the six families, but prevent too much inbreeding? A spark of fire flared in her chest. Easy for you to say. It's not your body and your child who gets taken away. You would do no difference in my place. His calm assurance was steeped in an arrogant, so thick she could only be dumbfounded at the assertion. If it's any consolation, it will not be like this forever. When we start rolling out the IVF treatments, we will no longer need the nights to arrange and enforce marriages. The next generation of girls, your daughter included, will find things a little easier. Someone knocked before she could attempt to formulate an answer. Iced twisted in his seat. I, yes, speaking of your daughter,

30:59I have arranged a guest to come and visit. Devon had barely enough time to sit up straight before Luton Winterfield walked in. Unaccompanied aside from his formidable manners and well-press suit, you, Devon struggled to keep her face straight and her reeling emotions under control. She was torn between demanding he return her daughter, begging him for correspondence and trying to rip out his throat, indecision snarled up the words in her chest. I'll see myself out. I sketched a swift bow and left. Luton looked at her very carefully as if they had only met for the first time and he wished to memorise her features. I suppose you hate me. There was nothing to say to that. She gave his question the silent contempt it deserved. I am sorry about this business with Salem, Luton said, as if they were discussing real estate. But then he was a surveyor out in the human world.

32:03If it's any consolation, the first child is the hardest. Also, I'm told, the next will be easier. I don't want it to be easier. She said, finding her voice again. I want to raise my daughter. They all loved apologising. She thought bitterly. She'd had three apologies today. Still counting. Didn't stop anyone behaving abominably. I am well aware of what you want. Luton held out her hefty pendants on a steel chain, produced from the depths of a pocket. I brought you something. Take it if you wish. Or leave it if you don't. The pendants spun, catching the light. A thick circular disc with embossed carvings on the outside. Pride fought against curiosity. Curiosity won. Devon snatched it off him. Her nail found a catch.

33:03A locket. She flicked it open. Not appending to a locket at all. But a compass. And a beautiful one. The needle wavered uncertainly. On the inside of the lid, someone had fitted a picture of Salem. It must have been recent. Perhaps a couple of months before a third birthday. She was sitting out in the gardens that Devon knew so well, smiling and adorable. Sunlight caught the elephant features. The exterior pattern is the Winterfield Crote of Arms. Though we have some differences in personality, you have performed your duties well and provided my estate with a healthy daughter of whom I am very fond. He cleared his throat. I am told you are struggling with the transition home. In part due to my handling. And I thought it might be appropriate to provide you with a memento to make things easier. Devon snipped the compass shut. Fingers curled tightly around it.

34:04You took away my child. And want me to be grateful because you've given me a trinket in exchange. Fuck you. You're not forgiven. His eyebrows rose. Is that so? Well, if you do not want the compass, I didn't say that. Devon made a deliberate show of dropping it into a night shirt pocket. Someday, I'm going to come back, hang it around your neck and walk off with my daughter. That is pure fantasy and won't happen. He said with a certainty that burned her to the marrow. Here is what will happen. I am going to tell Salem about you and keep your memory alive. What are you? I am going to tell Salem about you. He repeated. I'll give her pictures of you since she misses you very badly right now.

35:07And I will tell her that her mother will come back to see her one day. But only if her mother loves her enough. For her tenth birthday, perhaps. You'll be well out of your next marriage by then. You waved a finger. Behave and play your part, Devon. And you will make that rendezvous with Salem. But if you back out of your second marriage and cause trouble, I will be forced to tell your daughter that you do not love her and do not wish to see her. You lie in a desperate kind of terraced devon's joints, eroding her earlier fury and courage. Just like you were lying before. Oh, believe what you like. I came here to do you a favor, not feel job paranoid accusations. Loot and got up and walked out. She shrieked curse words after him, aware of how feral she sounded. No one took any notice. Outside her room, someone drew the bolts to lock the door in place,

36:11voices murmured as her guards exchanged places. Everything locked down, closing down. Her pitiful escape attempted ended. No drawn out fight or even a last stand. Simply hunted, bagged and dragged back. She was becoming the wrong kind of princess. The sort that fell in with goblins and got locked away in towers. Shame crept through her veins and grief hit like a mind eaters punch. How stupid she had been to think anyone would listen. How naive they must think her. An idiot girl believing whatever lied the patriarchs offered up. Her threat to looting was an empty thing carrying no weight. Which she could not enforce. Devon the daft. Devon the dolt. Devon the deceived. The stitches that held her life together were collapsing into dust. The families were strong, entrenched, practiced.

37:15She was nothing. Head full of their carefully selected books and empty of practical knowledge. Doll realization grew around her like choking vines. The only way out was to behave. Every time she defied the family, someone else paid the price. She still didn't win by following rules, but at least she lost less badly. Be passive, be good, bear the next child, get a modicum of freedom, and even if they did not allow her to visit Salem, she would still have more freedom after her marriages were completed and some of the duties settled on her shoulders were lifted. That meant she would not see Salem this year, or next, or even the next. Awful. Almost beyond enduring. But the alternative was worse. To act too boldly, inviting more restrictions.

38:16To run the risk that Luton would make good with his promise and convince Salem that Devon did not wish to see her. If Devon ever wished to see her daughter at all, she would bear the misery, the heartache, the impatience of her need. She held up on the floor, hands locked around the compass, and willed herself to breathe. Chapter 13 In the company of wolves, present day. But curing mind eaters of their hunger did nothing to solve the fertility problems that have plagued this species. For that problem, the book eaters did what they have always done best. Encourage human technology to advance from the shadows, and then borrow from it. The basics of IVF, they must have long ago. Easy to do when one can learn human medical science just by having a hearty lunch of textbooks. But the great difficulty in using such technology lies in adapting it to tricksy eater biology,

39:21and putting it into practice safely. And what kind of world will it be, I wonder, when book eaters can freely have children? A terrible question for the future. Amarinda Patel, paper and flesh, a secret history. Go! Devon half shoved, half barrelled, Hester and Kai towards the nearest train exit. She'd gotten back to the carriage where Kai and Hester were seated, and had just enough time to say, I think I've seen nights on the train, when the engine had ground to a halt. The lights had failed almost straight away. Shortly after, Ramsey had gone to work with his knife, rousing fear and horror in human passengers, who in turn had fled blindly through the now-pitch black carriages, crying murder and seeking help. With all his antics, Devon had encountered no difficulty in convincing Hester and her son that the nights had gotten aboard their train. All the all three of them should abandon the journey. They staggered out, along with a spill of other people, into a frosty Northumbrian night amidst the sprawling empty wild

40:24fields. From behind them on the train, several people were screaming. The sky above hung malignant, clouded over and moonless, perfectly atmospheric. Hester stumbled, falling against Devon's shoulder. They steadyed each other and kept running through the tall, half-frozen grass, trying to put distance between themselves in the beleaguered 10-15 train. They'd gone perhaps 200 metres when Hester exclaimed, wait and jerk to a stop. My handbag is missing. I don't have it on me. Devon twisted round. What's so important about a handbag? Is that rhetorical? Hester had already swivelled away to squint across the 300 metres of wild fields. The train was barely visible from the gentle swell of the land. My wallet and mobile phone and my gun were in there. And the bag itself cost 400 quid. Though I suppose that doesn't matter. Her aggrieved tone suggested that it did, in fact, matter. The biggest loss is the gun. It was an heirloom. Do you want us to try to go back?

41:26Devon said, looking uneasily at the train. Ramsey she knew would not take kindly to see them return. No, not worth the risk. Her hands clenched briefly, then uncurled. Still, I had pencils in there. A sketchbook too. Sketchbook, Devon said, nonplussed. She'd never heard of a bookie to drawing, though it was technically possible. They just weren't creative in that way as a species. Were they yard drawings? Was it important stuff? Hester gave a deprecatory laugh. No, I guess not. She scraped up her loose hair, wild from running, and tied it back with savage efficiency. Let's just go before I change my mind. About that, Kai said. Where exactly are we headed? The closest town which is probably Arnick. Hester plucked at her mud speckled skirts.

42:27Get there, get transport and nip across the border into Scotland proper. I think what he meant was where's our endpoint? Devon said. Which bit of Scotland do we go into? That's not safe for you to know yet. Hester started trudging away. Devon exchanged glances with Kai. He shrugged. The three of them struggled through the scratchy nettles in overgrown fields. The musky scent of soggy earth entangled weeds clogging up Devon's nostrils. She sneezed twice. No snow out here. Just chilly and damp. After another half-colometer, they reached a two-lane road that wound like a curving ribbon of black ice. Devon peered down each direction, flexing her still bare toes on the slicky frozen road. Not people opposite, but also no cars or houses. Hester squinted at a road sign. Looks like this is a 108-6. If we have any sense at all, we should be staring clear of the town and walking to the next

43:29place along. The next town! Kai wilted. But I'm tired now. Do we have to walk all night? He's right. Devon said. We need sleep. All of us. I've been up for more than a day and not eaten nearly enough for a long trek. She was indeed bone-tired. But beyond that, Devon also wanted time to observe this woman and to learn more about what might await them at the Ravenscar household. The only concrete assurance they'd been offered was a single dose of redemption while the rest was a blank unknown. It was well and good for Ramsay to not give a damn for whatever lay in store. But it wasn't his neck on the line. It shouldn't take all night to get there. Hester said, plucking it a loose thread on a sleeve. What do you mean, shouldn't? How far are we going? I'm not supposed to tell you where we're going until we're there. Uncertainty made her seem smaller. It isn't safe. Or for heaven's sake, listen, you're used to caution. I understand

44:31that. But we have to work together right now. How far are we going? Will you tell me that? Not where, just how far? About 80 miles, said the other woman guardedly. Devon ran a hand over a face. And you think 80 miles won't take all night. But obviously it would if we walked it. But it's a short drive in a car. Someone was supposed to meet us in Edinburgh once we got there. She grimaced. I'd ring them to check in, but my phone was in that sodding bag. We're nowhere near Edinburgh. Nor is Edinburgh necessarily safe for us anymore. In the here and now, we are very much without a car, which makes 80 miles one hell of a walk. Do you have a better idea? The other woman said, exasperated. I suppose you think we should bed down here in camp outside. Not outdoors, indoors. Kite pointed. His ragged sleeves billowing in a sharp winter wind. There's a bed and

45:33breakfast down the road. We could go there, then find another way to travel in the morning. Both women looked at him. Devon said, have you been here before? Sort off. The lawyer stared once for a walk in holiday in the Mars. He traveled loads in these parts. Hester raised an eyebrow. The lawyer. B&B sounds good. Devon didn't feel like explaining the lawyer or any of Kaiser the half remembered victims. Let's go. I want to get off my feet. Hester threw up her hands. I don't have any money. My wallet was in that purse. I've got a few quid. A few. How much is that? Enough to cover us. Devon reckoned 20 grand could cover most B&B stays. All right, I give up. The two of you are so determined to stop, so we'll stop. Where do we go from here? I know where it is, Kai said. Not far. I won't miss it. They set off again. This time through the half-frozen

46:39grass and following the line of the fence, Devon walked alongside Hester. While up ahead, Kai navigated terrain that only a dead man inside his school remembered. There'd no soon enough of his stolen memories were still accurate. I'm glad you're not a family trap, Hester said, face obscured by curling hair. It was a possibility that crossed my mind. The night still young, Devon said, with a lightness that belied her own internal cringing. Hester didn't laugh. Killick, my brother, had a theory that you were both a setup that Kai wasn't really your child. He's mine. And the whole thing was a ploy for the families to access redemption. She flushed. Anyway, feel silly now to say that. Five minutes around the pair of you in that bond is clear as day. And he's got your features. He carries the luck matter, Devon said, Riley. Can he ask something? A coup, I understand. Young men are ambitious and like to be patriarchs. But what did your siblings gain by running off to hide in the wilderness?

47:44You're not selling redemption anymore or making any money, which must be tough. Maybe I'm missing something, but I don't understand why killick didn't just stay at port and you lot with him. The other families wouldn't have really cared about a change of power in your manner. I'm afraid killick will have to explain that to you in person. It's extremely complicated and delicate. I guess, Devon said, annoyed and frustrated. Every time she thought that conversation was going somewhere, she hit walls. He'll make sense when he does a promise. The Ravens car woman stepped over a patch of frozen mud, gaze on the uneven ground in front of her. She said, almost as an afterthought. You're not at all what I was expecting. Hi, Devon said. And what were you expecting? Another me, I suppose. Before Devon could get a head around that cryptic answer, Kai turned around and called over his shoulder.

48:48I think I see it. That place just ahead. The old halted to have a good look. Andite farm sprawled just off the road. Only a few hundred meters from the small row of houses, a stone cottage crouched beneath its heavy-town roof, like a squat-gray turtle god of darkness. But it was bitterly maintained, quiet and clean, with a hint of that British foe quaintness that such place is traded in. The hour was closing in on midnight by the time Devon stalked up the gravel path with crunching footsteps, Kai at her side and hester trailing a little behind. The entrance wasn't locked, and the lights were still on. But no one was at the desk, unsurprising given the hour. The owner, a small framed woman called Nadia, was not pleased to be woken. She was even less pleased to see a gaggle of battered, unkept people demanding a room. Devon's bare feet got a shocked side-eye. But she had no good reason to turn them out, especially when Devon paid double for the hassle. Money had a way of curing human resentment.

49:4920 minutes later in a hundred quib poorer, the three of them were piling wearily into a cottage across the courtyard. The room held two double beds, freshly made up and decorated in a pastiche of rustic life that Devon found baffling. Andite was already an actual farm. Why pretend to be a fantasy one? Who sleep in where? Devon said. Even as Kai flung himself onto one of the beds. Hey, take those shoes off. In a minute, he melted into the pillow with a groan. I can take the couch if you want the other bed. Hester offered. You look like you need the rest. Don't be daft. I'll bunk with Kai. I've done it often enough. I'm calling dibs on the shower though. She ducked into the bathroom. Don't take too long. Hester called from outside. There's only one toilet, you know. Devon rolled her eyes, then stripped off and ducked under the fall of icy water, just long enough to rinse the ground from her hair and skin. Her feet were foul. But there was

50:50nothing to scrub with except a single bar of dried out soap that crumbled into gritty chunks when she picked it up. So much for a scrub. She taled off and climbed back into her dirty clothes with reluctance. Well, she'd worn worse. Clean-ish, or at least clean-ear, Devon stepped from the bathroom to the relief of a frantic Hester who promptly took her place and shut the door with pointed force. Kai lay curled on the bed fast asleep. His shoes were still on. She pride them off and took him in. Tattered clothes and all. The boy reaped of sweat and dirt. He'd need a shower too. Patches of eczema marred to the joint between foot and ankle and also the crux of his elbows. She'd wondered if taking redemption again would help or worse in his skin. Decided it didn't matter. Careful. So careful is to not wake him. Devon tugged up the edge of his shirt, revealing the smooth scar on his abdomen, barely an inch across, little more than a silver line

51:53of skin. No flashing lights or uncomfortable lumps he'd ever complained about. No outward sign of the tiny, surgically implanted device embedded in his peritoneal cavity. Lying to him was wrong, but it seemed too heavy and strange for a five-year-old who already carried the sins of other people and many victims on his shoulders. He had enough to worry about. Sometimes she wondered if the device was really there, or had somehow deactivated. It seemed so improbable as a concept, but reality always reasserted itself. Devon had seen the surgery done. Watch the stitches put in afterward. Her son carried death with him at all times and did not know it. And if she ever faltered, she only needed to think about Ramsey. Go, before I change my mind and blow your son into next Thursday. Every time he threatened Kai's life, as he had tonight and no doubt would again, she swallowed down the boiling stew of her overcooked rage and tried to play polite.

52:55He could end her son with the flick of a button. Scuffling sounds came from the bathroom. Devon dropped the edge of Kai's shirt and repositioned herself less suspiciously, just in time for Hester to emerge. In the space of ten minutes, the other woman had tamed her hair and increased her clothes, an impressive skill. They left this on the sink, by the way. Hester held out the compass. Oh, Devon snuts it backward, lightning speed. Careless, so careless. Christ, she really was tired. Thanks, she added, lamely. No problem. The Ravens' car woman sat on the other bed. The gap narrow enough their knees knocked and began brushing out wet curls of hair with her fingers. Nice trinket, family heirloom, memento of my daughter. Hester paused, mid-finger comb. Oh, I'm sorry I wouldn't have picked it up if it's fine. Devon opened the compass to display it.

54:01Have a look if you want. Everyone should see her daughter. She's lovely. Hester said subdued. Of course, all little children are beautiful. Devon snapped the compass shut and wound the chain around her palm. Adults, not so much. We've done too many things in our lives to be beautiful, an uncomfortable beat of silence. And then Hester gestured at the mini-fridge. Do you want a drink? A laugh sounded anxious. Pretty sure they have wine in that thing. I, I'd like that. Hester got up, dug through the mini-fridge and pulled out a bottle of cheap white. Can I ask you something? But you happy as a child, growing up in your family. Yes, Devon didn't have to think about her answer. I was really happy. I had freedom. Oh, thought I did. Maybe it would be better to say, I truly enjoyed doing the things I was allowed to do. I know everything was twisted and perverse by the end, but I still wish I could

55:04have given Kai some of that joy. Moors, Heather, Foxes, Otters, Sunshine and Snow, bare foot in a thunderstorm. Although things existed and had been hers, yet she had managed only to pass on a legacy of pain. Makes sense, Hester filled a couple of B&B mugs since there were no glasses. I would have liked to have met Happy Devon, I think. Your own life isn't exactly spun sugar either. I've hardly talked about myself. Hester set down the bottle, picked up the cops. It's what you don't say. Your tour observant for your own good then. Hester sat beside her this time, almost shoulder to shoulder, and Morgan each hand. Her proximity was a pleasant solidity. Here, take one. Thanks. The ceramic handles sweatic condensation against her palm. So, um, do you have kids? No, never had children. But really, Devon raised an eyebrow.

56:13The other woman was her age and a bookie too. So how did you avoid that one? Random chance. Hester took a long drink, finishing most of her mug in one go. All healthy family women suffer from premature avarian failure as a default. In my case, that failure came in childhood instead of in my late twenties. Devon didn't trust herself to answer. She was afraid to open her mouth and end up saying, how lucky are you? But that wasn't actually fair. She didn't know enough about Hester's life to judge whether in fertility was lucky or not. She had no right to project that kind of assumption on someone else. Anyway, I feel so silly. I should have known that you'd have more than one child. The Ravens Carwoman was saying, where is she, your daughter? Birmingham, I haven't seen her in seven years. I'm so sorry. That must be hard. Hester said, low. She drained the last of her wine.

57:16I hope you don't mind me saying, but there's a strange comfort in knowing that you miss your girl. I don't remember my mother very well, but I like the idea that she's missing me somewhere. Me too, Devon admitted. The response felt inadequate. Thousands of books eaten, and she still lacked the language to say anything about her own matriarch. How did one give shape to absence? Filler black hole with light? As a child, she'd imagined what it might be like to me to mother. As a young bride, pregnant and glowing, that hypothetical scenario had expanded into a fully fledged fantasy. One where Devon could envision reuniting with Amboli, the pair of them bonding over their shared experiences. These days, she didn't like to think of it at all. She wasn't ready for the experience of encountering her mother in the flesh. She would never be ready just as well. It was unlikely to ever happen. When the silence grew too strong, Devon broke it down by saying,

58:16Are you close to Kellek? Do you know him well? Sort of. Hester yawning into her palm. I suppose I know him as well as anyone. He was a gentle boy and a good brother when we were growing up. Would you not describe him that way now? Devon said, feeling her way cautiously. Not really, no. I wish he listened more. Hester looked tired. Or perhaps it was just the wine. Either way, her eyes were drifting closed, small forms slumping. Sometimes he frightens me. What do you mean? No answer. She looked down. Hester had passed out. Her head still on Devon's shoulder. Never mind. She said, feeling oddly protective, she eased the Ravens' car woman to the nearby bed, and plucked the wine stained cup from her lethargic fingers, stashing it on the side table. I think, Devon said, that I'm not going to like your brother very much.

59:23Hester slept on, breathing deep, time to complete her yearly vigil for Salem. She went to stand by the window, head pressed against the window frame and flicked the compass open. The faded picture of a three-year-old girl peaked out. The vigil was never anything except painful, and this year was particularly excruciating. Somewhere in the south, her daughter would be rising in a few hours. With a birthday party and pretty celebrations to mark turning ten years of age, ten years old, the birthday Devon was supposed to be turning up for, according to Luton's agreement. And she would be absent. Having abandoned one child to save another, no doubt Salem's father would relish the moment, she thought with bitterness, but none of Devon's choices had included the possibility of an ideal solution, and the conditions required for her to keep that promise would have meant giving up Kai for dead, or worse. This was the best she could do. Her daughter would have to wait.

1:00:25I'm so sorry, I can't see you after all. She whispered to the darkness. Breath frosting on the unglazed windows. I'll come back for you when I can. She squeezed the disc until the ridges dug red lines into her fingers. Happy birthday, Salem. Stillness entwined with her weariness, a particular kind of exhaustion that seemed years and years deep. I'm willing to disturb Kai or to invade Hester's personal space. Devon left her companions to their beds. She crammed her tall frame onto the faux rustic sofa, and fell asleep.