Skinpainter watches Icecaller through eyes hooded with exhaustion. They say nothing, as their blunt nails scratch at a wrist thronging with new geometrics which buzz and shift like drowsy bees.
Icecaller tries to stop the shaking that’s in her legs, as she turns to check for Nigh. For a second, she can’t see her, and her heart stops. Then behind her, in one of the slip tunnels, she sees Steelfinder standing warily with a familiar snot-scrap on her shoulders. She could kiss her. She will kiss her.
She has to get out of here first. She has a strange hollow feeling in her head, like she’s looked too long over the edge of a cliff. As she moves to leave, she leans in close to Skinpainter. ‘We bind if we break, remember?’
They catch her wrist. Their hand is rough, callused, wet with a stranger’s spit and blood.
She lets herself be drawn in, watches thick lips pull back over squat teeth. ‘We bind regardless,’ they say. A single nail traces her pulse beneath the skin, as if searching for a second, phantom beat.
Under her fear, she feels the spark of a vague, itchy anger. How dare they keep her in the dark? Secrets upon mouldy secrets. She snatches herself free, crosses the hall. Refuses, bloody refuses to look back. Cryptic twat.
Steelfinder moves to meet her. Icecaller throws her arms around her, and buries her face in her neck; breathes, finally.
A small foot kicks her in the face.
She grunts in pain. ‘You were supposed to run home, Nigh.’
Steelfinder shrugs Nigh off and onto her sister. ‘I intercepted her I’m afraid. I had to check out those cool new tats.’
Icecaller smiles weakly under a raised eyebrow. ‘Not tattoos. Monster marks.’
Steelfinder leans in, scrutinises the small black lines, lifts tousledhair, bends grubby ears, and ignores the furious squirming. ‘So I see. Very fearsome. Very cool.’
She looks up. ‘Where are you taking this monster?’
‘Off to see Dad. Then I’m feeding her to the eagles.’
‘Yeah, for the best. Can’t have monsters running around.’
Nigh roars and swings. Steelfinder blocks the punch, catches a small fist in her hand. ‘Not until they’ve learnt to keep their claws to themselves,’ she whispers in Nigh’s ear.
Icecaller runs her fingers along the back of Steel’s neck. ‘What are you muttering to her?’
Steelfinder bats her away. ‘Monster secrets. Not for fancy mountain princesses.’
Icecaller pouts, tightens her grip, leans in. ‘I’ll interrogate you later.’ She reaches up and slaps Nigh on the ass. ‘But, we have to get going.’
She’s pulled in for a goodbye that runs electric down her spine, her nails tight against the soft prickle of Steel’s scalp. It drives the last of the hollow feeling from her head and for a second, she feels herself go tight and hard. ‘Wehaveto get going,’ she mutters. ‘You heartless rat.’
‘That’s me,’ Steel grins. ‘Say hi to the old bear.’
‘Will do, come on, gross monster.’ Icecaller runs a hand over her lips as she leaves.
Tastes sweat, sweetness, the copper of a stranger’s blood.
61
The hammer is a builder’s tool,
the sword for splitting bone
the spear it is a hunter’s tool
for feeding hearth and home
yet every weapon ever made
is united by one spark
