Page 81 of The Book that Broke the World

The group carried on, trailing Wentworth through the lefts and rights, broadly following the wall for a few hundred yards into the chamber. Evar sniffed the air from time to time. “Definitely humans.” He confirmed Clovis’s earlier judgement.

The attack, when it came, wasn’t well organised or executed with precision. A handful of figures clambered up onto the shelf top forming a T-junction with the aisle down which Wentworth was leading Arpix. The animal heads peering from the heights of this particular unit turned out to be no longer connected to the plank supporting them, and the people above snatched them up, throwing them down as missiles.

It was hard to miss when your target was confined within an aisle two yards wide, but at least half of the six heads thrown their way would not have hit anyone. A stag’s head, complete with antlers, came spinning towards Arpix, and Evar pulled him out of its way. A second, more compact head, shot towards Evar with more force than the rest. He caught it in one hand. The slap of wood against flesh was loud enough to make Arpix wince, but the canith seemed unconcerned.

The last missile went over Arpix’s head, and when he turned, he saw that Clovis had impaled it on her sword.

“Wait!” Arpix called up to the humans above them. “Wait! We’re not here to fight. We’re looking for Yute!”

The people, on the point of retreating down the ladders that must rest against the far side, hesitated.

“Those are canith!” One of them spat. He bent to reach for another wooden head.

“Yes!” Arpix called back. “But good ones. We’re librarians. Friends of Yute.”

The people on the shelf top exchanged glances. Arpix could see that some of them were Livira’s kin, thick black hair, fawn skin. But canith were always going to be a hard sell whether to city dwellers or those from the Dust. Death and destruction had been what the canith brought to the doors of both.

After a few muttered words the group started to descend their ladders. Canith had a history of taking prisoners and exploiting them. Arpix understood the mistrust.

“Wait! I’m not lying!” Arpix was embarrassed by how unconvincing he sounded.

Half of them had vanished from view already. One of the remaining women, possibly the one whose shot would have brained Evar but for his preternatural reactions, sparked a moment of recognition. She had a thick rope of black hair reaching past the small of her back, and even from this angle there was something familiar about her.

Arpix opened his mouth to shout again, but Jella beat him to it.

“Neera?”

The girl coughed in surprise. “Who... Do I know you?”

“It’s me, Jella.” Jella elbowed past the canith.

“Gods!” Neera gestured to one of her companions. “Pull a ladder up.” She sat on the shelf top, legs dangling, peering over short-sightedly. “We nearly killed you.” She sounded horrified, though Evar snorted his amusement. “I’m so sorry!” She leaned further over, looking to be a hair’s breadth from toppling into the fall. “Is that really you, Jella? You’re so thin!”

—

The ambush point had been chosen well, and a ladder was needed to avoid a long detour to reach the spot where Neera and her crew had waited below their single spotter. Arpix clambered up first, followed by Jella and the rest of the humans.

Jella and Neera staged a dangerous reunion twenty yards above the ground, hugging each other and weeping and remarking on how skinny the other was.

“How did you get like this?” Neera stepped back, astonished, and it was all Arpix could do to keep from grabbing her as she backed towards the edge. But she seemed at home on the shelf top, well aware of its dimensions and unbothered by the drops despite having been raised in the flattest place in the kingdom. “How are you so thin? So dark!”

“We can discuss it,” Arpix said. “On the ground.” The drop to either side had put a tremble in his legs and dizziness threatened.

“Are they really safe?” Neera frowned doubtfully at the canith below.

“They are.” Arpix knew that, like Livira, Neera had been taken captive by the canith who raided her settlement. “That one with the dark mane. That’s Livira’s... special friend.”

He had to reach out to catch Neera then as her amazement set her back another step. Dizziness took him and both of them might have fallen if not for Jella. “We really should get back on the floor,” she said, releasing them both from her grip. “The slow way.”

—

Wentworth, who had vanished at the first sign of trouble, reappeared once everyone was at the same level and on the same side. Neera and her companions greeted him like another old friend and made a fuss of him.

“He brings us food,” Neera explained, looking up from stroking the cat. Wentworth for his part made a show of disdain, as if he were suffering their attentions out of kindness, though when the man scratching his neck stopped doing it, Wentworth butted his hand with his head. “He brings rats mainly, but also chickens, and once... a horse. That’s how we’ve survived. Also Master Yute’s pockets. He can reach in and bring out bread, sausages, onions, sometimes a hot pie.” She looked wistful at the memory. “But he can’t do it too often and it takes a lot of rummaging.”

Salamonda, who had been the last one over before the canith, frowned at this particular revelation. “Pies?”

“Yes.” Neera nodded. “It’s true. It sounds crazy but it’s real magic.”

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