The creatures had a way of leaping from buildings without suffering harm. He imagined one of them coming down hard on top of him, claws first, its toothy red face stretched into a vicious grin.
They moved closer to the houses with agonizing slowness. Rocks poked through moss into their skin and tree saplings caught at their loincloths. When they reached the first buildings, they kept their backs to walls damp with Roofsweat and sidled along towards the main road out of Blood-Ways. Once everything was ready, they’d make sure the guards spotted them. The enemy would see the Bloodskin hides tied in a bundle to Stopmouth’s back and in the dark it would look as if the humans were escaping with stolen infants. The men would feign fatigue or injury. The alarm would sound and the Bloodskin guards would pursue them all the way into Wallbreaker’s trap.
But twenty paces from the tower, Rockface leaned closer to Stopmouth and whispered in his ear. ‘We’re in luck! The barrier has fallen away from this window. See?’
Stopmouth stared at the big man in horror.
‘What’s the problem?’ said Rockface, too loudly for Stopmouth’s comfort. ‘Your brother’s scheme will work just as well if we do this thing for real. And think of the glory! It’s been generations since anybody got out of Blood-Ways alive. Here, I’ll give you a boost up.’
Stopmouth shook his head violently. Rockface scoffed. ‘Oh, you think you can support
my
weight, hey? No, you’ll be going first. Come on!’
The man’s voice was growing louder all the time. Desperate to shut him up, Stopmouth put his foot into the stirrup of Rockface’s hands and climbed into the building. It was madness–Wallbreaker would surely think they’d been killed. And yet, if they emerged from this alive, there would be more tattoos; more admiration and respect.
He clambered into the darkness beyond and reached back for Rockface. Then there was a bit of stumbling around until they found a door looking out onto a deserted lane.
‘Me first!’ said the big man, and he strolled into Blood-Ways as if he were in Centre Square, looking neither left nor right. Stopmouth did enough of that for both of them. He felt sure that an army would be leaping down from nearby rooftops at any moment. If he simply went back the way he’d come, Rockface wouldn’t even notice. But he tried to keep his mind on the tattoos he’d be getting on their return, and the look of jealousy on Lowsquat’s face as a
mute
was paraded around Centre Square on people’s shoulders.
‘You think I want your poxy daughter?’ he’d say. And Lowsquat would be the one to stutter in indignation.
Rockface dragged him into a building just as two Bloodskins turned onto their laneway. The creatures were both male, their prominent lower teeth shining in the tracklights.
‘If we can find where they came from,’ Rockface whispered, ‘we’ll get their young. We’ll be heroes!’
The Bloodskin males passed out of sight. The humans crept round the corner from which the beasts had come. A shock awaited them. Up till now the houses had been in poor repair, but most still had their roofs and the walls stood strong. Here, however, it looked like a giant foot had stepped on them, smashing everything for several blocks. Man-sized chunks of metal jutted from the buildings, while other fragments had torn up the paving on the street. Wreckage of a Globe, thought Stopmouth, and shuddered to think what had happened to any creature unlucky enough to be in the buildings at the time it had struck. If Bloodskins from these houses survived, surely they’d moved out to live elsewhere. But no; Rockface waved his dagger in the direction of the most damaged building of all. Cracks ran up the walls of the house, and the whole top floor seemed to have fallen in. And yet a faint glow shone from the doorway like the embers of a fire.
Rockface pointed at the house again and signalled ‘Go!’ He crossed towards it on tiptoe
They moved closer to the houses with agonizing slowness. Rocks poked through moss into their skin and tree saplings caught at their loincloths. When they reached the first buildings, they kept their backs to walls damp with Roofsweat and sidled along towards the main road out of Blood-Ways. Once everything was ready, they’d make sure the guards spotted them. The enemy would see the Bloodskin hides tied in a bundle to Stopmouth’s back and in the dark it would look as if the humans were escaping with stolen infants. The men would feign fatigue or injury. The alarm would sound and the Bloodskin guards would pursue them all the way into Wallbreaker’s trap.
But twenty paces from the tower, Rockface leaned closer to Stopmouth and whispered in his ear. ‘We’re in luck! The barrier has fallen away from this window. See?’
Stopmouth stared at the big man in horror.
‘What’s the problem?’ said Rockface, too loudly for Stopmouth’s comfort. ‘Your brother’s scheme will work just as well if we do this thing for real. And think of the glory! It’s been generations since anybody got out of Blood-Ways alive. Here, I’ll give you a boost up.’
Stopmouth shook his head violently. Rockface scoffed. ‘Oh, you think you can support
my
weight, hey? No, you’ll be going first. Come on!’
The man’s voice was growing louder all the time. Desperate to shut him up, Stopmouth put his foot into the stirrup of Rockface’s hands and climbed into the building. It was madness–Wallbreaker would surely think they’d been killed. And yet, if they emerged from this alive, there would be more tattoos; more admiration and respect.
He clambered into the darkness beyond and reached back for Rockface. Then there was a bit of stumbling around until they found a door looking out onto a deserted lane.
‘Me first!’ said the big man, and he strolled into Blood-Ways as if he were in Centre Square, looking neither left nor right. Stopmouth did enough of that for both of them. He felt sure that an army would be leaping down from nearby rooftops at any moment. If he simply went back the way he’d come, Rockface wouldn’t even notice. But he tried to keep his mind on the tattoos he’d be getting on their return, and the look of jealousy on Lowsquat’s face as a
mute
was paraded around Centre Square on people’s shoulders.
‘You think I want your poxy daughter?’ he’d say. And Lowsquat would be the one to stutter in indignation.
Rockface dragged him into a building just as two Bloodskins turned onto their laneway. The creatures were both male, their prominent lower teeth shining in the tracklights.
‘If we can find where they came from,’ Rockface whispered, ‘we’ll get their young. We’ll be heroes!’
The Bloodskin males passed out of sight. The humans crept round the corner from which the beasts had come. A shock awaited them. Up till now the houses had been in poor repair, but most still had their roofs and the walls stood strong. Here, however, it looked like a giant foot had stepped on them, smashing everything for several blocks. Man-sized chunks of metal jutted from the buildings, while other fragments had torn up the paving on the street. Wreckage of a Globe, thought Stopmouth, and shuddered to think what had happened to any creature unlucky enough to be in the buildings at the time it had struck. If Bloodskins from these houses survived, surely they’d moved out to live elsewhere. But no; Rockface waved his dagger in the direction of the most damaged building of all. Cracks ran up the walls of the house, and the whole top floor seemed to have fallen in. And yet a faint glow shone from the doorway like the embers of a fire.
Rockface pointed at the house again and signalled ‘Go!’ He crossed towards it on tiptoe
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