them. Retra heard his deep breaths and saw the steady rise of his chest.
Jaime wrinkled her nose. ‘He didn’t make it to a church for petite nuit. This is the only other safe place to rest,’ she lowered her already quiet voice, ‘although Lenoir doesn’t like it …’
As if hearing his name, Lenoir stood and turned, sweeping his gaze past each candlelit corner of the cavern. His glance raked over them like the blast of a hot wind.
‘Circle will now discuss the business of Ruzalia the pirate. Test?’ His voice entered Retra’s head, sibilant and intimate as if his lips were at her ear and his breath brushed the hairs on her neck. Her skin pimpled all over, as it had when she had first taken the Rapture pod.
Lenoir retook his seat and Test rose, the stiff frill of her hair collected into one dramatic spike that pointed out from the base of her skull. The leather of her waistcoat hugged her torso so closely that only its colour distinguished it from her skin. ‘Ruzalia has attacked and boarded barges from Grave, Mustafar and Lidol Push. In each instance she has taken the older ones. We are finding less and less reaching here.’
‘Then we owe her a debt, not a penalty,’ said a young Circle member in a confident voice.
‘Ruin. He was with Markes,’ said Suki, reminding Retra.
‘It is not such a simple matter, Ruin,’ replied Lenoir.
With each word he spoke Retra’s heart pounded in her chest and needles pricked her skin. Somehow his voice played with her senses.
‘Ruzalia’s raids on the barges are unsettling for the baby bats. Sometimes they become frightened and go with her on impulse. Another few were lost today. You see, she is not simply rescuing the older ones: she opposes Ixion on all counts. Guardians have been injured. She undermines our purpose.’
‘W-what is your purpose?’ asked Ruin boldly.
‘Your pleasure is our purpose.’ Lenoir smiled, but it did not ring true. ‘Brand? You of all of us have seen the worst of Ruzalia. What think you?’
Brand. Retra’s heart thumped as the scarred Riper came forward from the shadows.
The Riper’s fingers went automatically to the scars on both her cheeks, tracing them along their rough ridges in an unconscious gesture. ‘I say we set a trap for her and bring her in.’
‘A trap?’ Lenoir’s voice rose in interest.
Retra’s scalp-hair stiffened in response, as though his voice tugged at each root.
‘Let it be known that we have a special group whose time has come. Tempt her with them. Charlonge should be one of them. She has been here too long. Flaunt them under Ruzalia’s nose,’ said Brand.
Suki grabbed Retra’s hand. Not Charlonge!
‘The pirate would know it is a trap,’ said Lenoir.
‘Perhaps. Even so, she would not be able to resist.’
‘You think her that foolhardy?’ Lenoir chuckled. It was a softer sound and it flowed around Retra like tepid water.
Next to her Rollo shuddered. ‘What is it with him?’ he muttered. ‘Every time he speaks my skin crawls.’
Retra ignored him and leaned forward to the long-haired girl, Jaime. ‘Where do you think they take the Peaks?’
Jaime turned her head, barely. ‘The edge of the Spiral.’
‘What happens at the edge?’
The girl shrugged her shoulders with impatience.
‘No one knows what happens at the Spiral’s edge. Some say you can fall off this world,’ said Suki, with authority. ‘Or burn to bits. It’s been like that since the darkness came.’
‘But we got here all right,’ said Retra.
‘The getting here’s fine. Leaving is not. Or so the Ripers say,’ Rollo added.
‘Where does Ruzalia come from then?’
He shook his head. ‘Dunno.’
Jaime raised her hand to silence them.
Rollo pulled a face at Retra, but her attention had already returned to Lenoir and the Circle.
‘I think I know a way to ensnare her,’ said Brand. She turned and pointed to the shadows. ‘Present him!’
A Riper glided across to an altar at the opposite end of the cavern, where a figure knelt in a flowing white robe, his curling hair worn loose like a beautiful dark angel. He held a guitar carefully – lovingly – as he stood.
Markes.
He walked back to the centre altar, eyes focused on Lenoir, unaware of Retra or anyone else.
Jaime clasped her hands together. She gave a soft moan of pleasure. ‘Astonishing!’
‘What’s astonishing?’ whispered Retra.
‘A baby bat being brought into the Youth Circle … that’s never happened before.’
‘Why have they done that?’ asked Rollo.
‘Hush,’ said the girl. ‘You’ll see.’
‘Who are you?’ asked Lenoir.
‘I’m Markes.’ His voice was unnaturally thick and slow.
‘Play for