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Authors: Chris Wooding
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even the most reckless of men. The crew could deal with the fact that she was different, but she wondered how wel they'd take the news that they had someone who was part Mane on board.
'How we doing, Jez?' asked Frey from the pilot seat.
Jez checked her charts. 'Coming up on Kurg now, Cap'n. Be at the landing site in six hours at this speed.'
Frey groaned and shifted his butt around to get comfortable. 'Six hours. Right.'
Jez smiled to herself. The truth was it was more like four, but it would give her captain a pleasant surprise when they got in early. Frey wouldn't mind the deception. He knew she could be pinpoint accurate if she wanted, which was more than he could say for any of her predecessors.
'Land, ho,' Frey said, without much interest.
Jez got up and went to stand by the pilot's seat to watch the coast approaching. A wal of black rock rose up out of the sea, as far as the eye could see. Waves smashed at its base. Thick forest crawled away from the clifftops towards barren mountain peaks. Smoke bilowed from the mouth of a volcano in the distance, joining the misty clouds that hung over the vast island.
Even from high above, Jez thought there was something forbidding and dreadful about it. What would they find in there? What was waiting for them?
A prickling sensation swept over her skin. Here we go, she thought, and then the world flexed and everything became different.
A twilight had falen, yet to her eyes everything seemed sharper than before. An unearthly clarity had come upon the world. She could see the hairs on the back of Frey's hand and sense their movement as they trembled. She could hear the Ketty Jay's engines, and pick out the sound of each individual part. Rats scurried in the hold. Crake snored drunkenly in his quarters. Slag dozed in an air vent, his heart thumping slowly.
Beyond the windglass of the cockpit, she could read the wind. The stirrings of the cloud and the ripples in the treetops told a tale that Jez, in her altered state, could decipher. Pressure changes, crosswinds and updrafts laid themselves out in her mind like a chart. She sensed the life beneath the canopy, milions of creatures, great and smal, the growling heart of the island.
And in the distance, a terrible sound. The howling of the Manes. Caling for her. Caling her to be with them. To join them, beyond the Wrack.
Don't listen to them, she told herself. You're not one of them. You're human.
But the dread of their voices was too much. She had to retreat. In moments, the trance had passed.
She slipped in and out of that strange state easily and frequendy now. She'd learned to cope with the flood of sensation, to enjoy the thril of it. But the Manes were always there, waiting for her, beckoning. She was afraid of their summons. She didn't know if she could resist it forever.
She'd experienced what it was to be a Mane, for the briefest of instants, during her aborted transformation. She'd felt their connectedness, the joy of their companionship. The link they shared, the togetherness they felt. After that, it was hard not to feel lonely. They wanted her, not to harm her but to embrace her.
That was why she was afraid. To embrace the Manes would be to give up her humanity for ever. To become one of them would be to surrender herself. And she wouldn't do that.
Frey stirred in his seat, glanced up at Jez, and then back at the island before them. 'There she is,' he said.
'There she is,' Jez agreed.
'You ever wonder if half the stuff they say about this place is true?'
'It's probably not,' she said. 'But stil, the Coalition would rather colonise New Vardia - on the other side of the world and the other side of the Storm Belt - than colonise a land mass that lies a pleasant half-day's flight off their coast.'
'Hmm,' said Frey. 'That's not a good sign, is it?'
'Not realy.'
'If I get eaten, you can have the Ketty Jay, okay?'
'That's very sweet of you. What if you get stamped on, poisoned, or die horribly from some
'How we doing, Jez?' asked Frey from the pilot seat.
Jez checked her charts. 'Coming up on Kurg now, Cap'n. Be at the landing site in six hours at this speed.'
Frey groaned and shifted his butt around to get comfortable. 'Six hours. Right.'
Jez smiled to herself. The truth was it was more like four, but it would give her captain a pleasant surprise when they got in early. Frey wouldn't mind the deception. He knew she could be pinpoint accurate if she wanted, which was more than he could say for any of her predecessors.
'Land, ho,' Frey said, without much interest.
Jez got up and went to stand by the pilot's seat to watch the coast approaching. A wal of black rock rose up out of the sea, as far as the eye could see. Waves smashed at its base. Thick forest crawled away from the clifftops towards barren mountain peaks. Smoke bilowed from the mouth of a volcano in the distance, joining the misty clouds that hung over the vast island.
Even from high above, Jez thought there was something forbidding and dreadful about it. What would they find in there? What was waiting for them?
A prickling sensation swept over her skin. Here we go, she thought, and then the world flexed and everything became different.
A twilight had falen, yet to her eyes everything seemed sharper than before. An unearthly clarity had come upon the world. She could see the hairs on the back of Frey's hand and sense their movement as they trembled. She could hear the Ketty Jay's engines, and pick out the sound of each individual part. Rats scurried in the hold. Crake snored drunkenly in his quarters. Slag dozed in an air vent, his heart thumping slowly.
Beyond the windglass of the cockpit, she could read the wind. The stirrings of the cloud and the ripples in the treetops told a tale that Jez, in her altered state, could decipher. Pressure changes, crosswinds and updrafts laid themselves out in her mind like a chart. She sensed the life beneath the canopy, milions of creatures, great and smal, the growling heart of the island.
And in the distance, a terrible sound. The howling of the Manes. Caling for her. Caling her to be with them. To join them, beyond the Wrack.
Don't listen to them, she told herself. You're not one of them. You're human.
But the dread of their voices was too much. She had to retreat. In moments, the trance had passed.
She slipped in and out of that strange state easily and frequendy now. She'd learned to cope with the flood of sensation, to enjoy the thril of it. But the Manes were always there, waiting for her, beckoning. She was afraid of their summons. She didn't know if she could resist it forever.
She'd experienced what it was to be a Mane, for the briefest of instants, during her aborted transformation. She'd felt their connectedness, the joy of their companionship. The link they shared, the togetherness they felt. After that, it was hard not to feel lonely. They wanted her, not to harm her but to embrace her.
That was why she was afraid. To embrace the Manes would be to give up her humanity for ever. To become one of them would be to surrender herself. And she wouldn't do that.
Frey stirred in his seat, glanced up at Jez, and then back at the island before them. 'There she is,' he said.
'There she is,' Jez agreed.
'You ever wonder if half the stuff they say about this place is true?'
'It's probably not,' she said. 'But stil, the Coalition would rather colonise New Vardia - on the other side of the world and the other side of the Storm Belt - than colonise a land mass that lies a pleasant half-day's flight off their coast.'
'Hmm,' said Frey. 'That's not a good sign, is it?'
'Not realy.'
'If I get eaten, you can have the Ketty Jay, okay?'
'That's very sweet of you. What if you get stamped on, poisoned, or die horribly from some
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