Night Witches Part 26

*What are you doing, Rain? To us you're a G.o.d. To everyone else you're a thing they call a witch a" something to be hated and hunted. Think of the connection we had back in the Biopolis. Think about what I'm offering you. Power! Wors.h.i.+p! Adoration!'

This should be a grand moment where I embrace G.o.d-head or spurn it magnificently. To my utter embarra.s.sment I find myself crying.

*I don't want your adoration! I don't want to be your G.o.d. I'm me, just me, why can't anyone understand that?'

It's no good. I cannot keep myself within this skin any longer.

Lamps spill. Silk catches fire. It burns with a blue-green flame. In the clearing outside soldiers leap up and arm themselves. Traption turrets swivel, seeking an enemy. Silver-sleek wolves leap out at them. Thorn-vines twine round guns, limbs, necks a" snap! Further out in the forest mirror-leaves blink into eyes. Awake now, the trees slowly feast, beginning with ground.

Power flows out of me. I can't control it. Can't keep myself me. My body's breaking up. Skin's splitting. Life's pouring out, spreading in great waves of utter, unending dark. Fear makes me shake. I'm disintegrating, disappearing, lost . . .

Not lost.

Found you, says a voice, as if whispered underground a thousand klicks away. A hand grips my hand. Hold tight.

At this touch, dark turns to light, ma.s.sive light, all the light imaginable, shooting up like a spear then spreading out under the clouds. It's not day, it's not darkness, it's a wave of impossibility a" a second sun. This is dark light from the heart of the forest. My heart. My forest. It spreads and stretches until it beams over every branch, under every leaf, into every dark corner. The world turns white.

Battle explodes in the light of this fake day. All the invading forces are scrambled. Instead of stars, the sky is a constellation of Crux planes. Soldiers swarm like insects. At the centre of the war it's just me. Me against the whole Crux army. Eyes closed, I can still see. Body motionless, I can still move. I spread invisible hands across the lake and the water stretches out, flooding the sh.o.r.e. From the unseen lake-bed I dredge up every skeleton, every plane, every boat that's ever been buried there. Up they come, dripping grey weeds and water. These I fling at the Crux Air Force, and when Crux planes and pilots come tumbling down, trees are only too ready to greet and eat them.

The whole world shakes. The very sky cracks. I can't keep this up for much longer! There are bombs and bullets, corvils and missiles. I'm here, I'm there, I'm everywhere. I'm spread too thinly, I'm stretched too far . . . I can't do this alone! There's only one of me!

Then I hear a new sound a" I know this noise! It's the gritty rumble of Storm engines.

*Witches!' call all the Crux still left alive. *The Night Witches are coming!'

Here they fly, nine tiny Storms, each with faithful friends. They're here, they've come, they're on my side! First Lida's plane, the Revenge. Next Dee with Zoya . . . Dee in her lucky hat. The other Storms follow, chasing whatever Crux I can't catch. I'd cheer if I still had a voice. I offer up one last utter, bursting, supernova . . .

Then silence.

Just silence.

Simple. Quiet.

I gasp a" my first breath since the storm began. Flames lick the gutted G.o.d-house. Reef is lying at my feet, not to wors.h.i.+p me but to keep me connected through all the catastrophe. It's his hand that's been stretched out to seize mine. He held fast and kept me from disappearing. Now he's not moving.

I sink to the floor. Smoke thickens.

*Reef?'

I'm too weak to break the bane-metal chains wrapped around his body. Still gripping my hand, he opens his eyes and looks straight at me. An arm's length away, I look back.

His voice is weak. *Are you OK?'

I want to laugh but can't find the energy. *I think I stepped off the path.'

*I think you blasted the path to oblivion.' His eyes close briefly. The black ink on his lids stares at me.

I tell him, *You can let go, you know. I understand. I mean, you've seen what I am now. It's a bit late to be reporting me to Aura but I know you'll probably hate me.'

*Report you? Why would I do that?'

*Isn't that why you've come to the Mora.s.s, to hunt me?'

*Oh yes,' he says. *I've been hunting witches for years.'

*And now you've found one.'

*So I have.' Still he doesn't release my hand.

*Are you supposed to capture me and send me back to Corona?'

*Are you stupid?' he murmurs tenderly. *I'm not letting you go now.'

*But . . . you hate me?'

*Do I? Doesn't feel like it.'

There's a long pause where I think of all the things I could say, but none of my words seem to be in the right order. I end up with, *So when you were hunting witches, it was to find out if they existed or not?'

*I had to know a" were my parents arrested wrongly? Were they superst.i.tious criminals . . . or was Aura simply clamping down on anything that statistics and science couldn't explain?'

*How crazy a" you were with one all along and you never knew it. I didn't know either. I wish I'd trusted you.'

He says, *Didn't I keep saying you could share your secrets with me?'

*I thought that was just a trick, to get me to show myself. I thought you'd throw me in prison too, or worse.'

He shakes his head gently. *Now that Aura can't possibly deny that witches exist, the only business I have with prisons will be to get my parents released with a full pardon.'

I grin. *I can help with prison breaks if that doesn't happen!'

I wish wish wish I could shake off this exhaustion to reach further and hold him. Some deity I am a" sprawled on the floor like a bird without wings! Eye Bright lands on my shoulder and bites my ear a" affectionately, I think.

I have to ask. *Weren't you afraid I'd take up the offer of being wors.h.i.+pped as a G.o.d?'

*The thought may have crossed my mind, but only about a million times or so. Mostly I was afraid you'd be hurt when you finally used your powers to the full. That you, the girl I love, would be swallowed up and disappear.'

Love love love! He said love. Dare I believe him? Is it possible to be happy, after all the doubt and destruction? Love is just a word people say, after all. I look in his eyes, his beautiful, clear bright eyes. They say love too, no need for words.

I have to take a breath. *And you don't just want to put me in a laboratory like Uncle Mentira and use me as a weapon of war?'

He smiles. *Not top of the list of plans I have for you, Rain.'

I smile back, wondering if there's even any war left to fight. The forest is calmer, I know that much. No machines, bombs, guns or G.o.d-followers left. Let the Crux wors.h.i.+p their idea of a Light Bringer without forcing others to have their faith! Let Rodina march to the beat of science and common sense, without Slick spraying everything that grows outside the realm of normal rules! Let the Mora.s.s be safe as a place of possibilities!

As roots reach down to soil, and shoots sprout up, I feel my senses stretching to the edge of the forest and beyond . . . to the night-frosted fields of the foodlands, the dark, blossoming buildings of the city, and further still . . . stopping only at sea-waves and running rivers.

I feel a great peace spreading.

I ask Reef, *Can you hear the birdsong?'

He nods. *Corvils sound like that when they've had a good feast.'

Oh.

*Reef?'

I think he must've fallen asleep. He opens his eyes slowly. *Yes?'

*When exactly did you know I was different?'

*Right from the first moment. But not different a" special. As for the witch thing . . . that took longer to figure out.'

*I can't believe you still knew.'

*It's my job to notice things, remember?'

What he doesn't notice, what I don't notice till far, far too late, is the dusty shape of Steen Verdessica rising from a mound of rubble, with fire as his backdrop. I see the knife, but it's stuck in a splinter of broken time. Such a bright blade a" such a fast slash. One moment Reef's throat is whole, next a red line is drawn along the skin. Blood drains out and Reef's life flows with it.

Time slows. The blade seems suspended in the smoky air. Bright beads of blood hang beneath it. I move without thinking. I have Steen's neck. I have him by the throat with his feet dangling. I need no knife. My hands reach inside, past his skin and muscles, deep, deep inside to where his spirit cowers. I wrench it out. His life.

I am death!

Reef is choking, spraying red drops and making the pool of blood around him swell.

Wolves howl louder, or maybe it's me. I let go of Steen and drop him to the floor. It's Reef I want, beautiful, black-haired Reef. I slip in his blood. Stuff my jacket against his wound to staunch the flow. Set my mouth to his mouth so he can breathe however many breaths are left to him in this life. I pour what's left of me into him.

The pool of Reef's blood spreads. The fire spits, sizzles and dwindles to sulky smoke. My light vanishes. The false day darkens. Night rushes back. I'm done.

The forest is calm.

Wolves, gorged and exhausted, lie on the ground, panting. Corvils fly back to their nests to preen with blood-stained beaks. Thorn-vines creep over mangled machinery.

Flutters of movement catch my attention. Out of the trees thousands of lace-wings are flying. They're so beautiful with their pale-green colouring and delicate feathered antennae. They fill the clearing, landing on whatever corpses the ground hasn't swallowed. They feed.

Life is life.

I hold Reef without moving, without crying, without knowing anything other than the fact he's gone. He looks so peaceful. I bend to kiss him one last time. His lips are still so warm and soft. How could I ever have thought he'd betray me when all along he wanted my trust?

I can't stand. I'm too tired and Reef's body is too heavy. Eye Bright swoops up to the top of the ruined G.o.d-house, scattering lace-wings with its black feathers. Am I alone now? Is the war really over? Overhead there are specks of green and red in the sullen gloom of the Eclipse a" wing-lights on Storms. I'm not alone, at least.

*Down here,' I croak. *We're here!'

As the Storms curve over the clearing I see the sky is lightening. The shadows are pa.s.sing. The Eclipse is ending. A sliver of sun s.h.i.+nes out from behind Umbra's disc. I wish Reef could have seen the end of Long Night.

I bury my face into his neck, not caring about the blood. Except there is no blood. Reef's skin is smooth and unbroken. His throat is warm. His pulse is throbbing. I start to kiss where the wound should be. This is impossible! Wonderful!

I am life!

He stirs. I find his lips again. Still drowsy, he returns my kisses, soft at first then harder and deeper. He reaches his hands up and tangles them in my hair, then cups my face until the kiss becomes sweet and slow. Finally he opens his eyes. When he finishes gazing at me he blinks to see the new sunlight.

*Did I miss something?'

I try to comb my hair with my fingers, to look as close as I can to normal. *Not really. Nothing I couldn't handle.'

He sweeps strands of black from my eyes, which must be full of smiles. We sit together, perhaps for moments, perhaps for hours. The sun grows warmer.

Rain . . .

A cool, fresh breeze brings my name, and with it the smell of home.

*The forest is beautiful in summer,' I murmur, watching the trees toss their branches . . . along with bits of half-eaten armour.

Rain . . .

The forest calls again. What else is waiting for me in the shade of the silver-bark trees? Maybe one day I'll leave to find out. I'll wander where paths don't exist, to discover if I'm alone, or if I'm One of Many. Perhaps, when I do go, I won't just disappear. Reef will kiss me on the brow and whisper, *I'll find you . . .'

For now I'm content to be still. To be me, with him, in this place.

The sun leaps out from Umbra's lingering shade, a perfect circle of gold.

The Long Night is over.

For now.

No, it's not the huts that are burning a".

It's my youth, in the fire.

Iulia Drunina.

*Where do you get ideas from?' This is a question authors are often asked. For Night Witches the answer is from Russia. From World War Two. From the stories of the first-ever women to fly combat missions.

I knew from the moment I first got into the plane that I was born in the air, and it became my main purpose in life a" to fly.

Captain Mariya Dolina a" pilot and heroine of the Soviet Union The 1941 German invasion of the Soviet Union began with catastrophic strikes on the Russian Air Force, followed by fast, brutal land advances. The Russians were quick to respond. Among the Russian infantry, tank crews and air squadrons there were an estimated 800,000 women in combat.

The Air Force boasted fighter aces such as the legendary Lily Litviak, a young woman with twelve *kills' to her credit. Lily was famous for her bleached blonde hair and fearless flights over the besieged city of Stalingrad.

As well as daring fighters there were the day and night bomber crews. The most famous all-female regiment began life as the 588th Night Bomber Aviation Regiment, formed in 1942. The Regiment was so impressive it soon earned a promotion to *Guards' status, becoming the 46th Taman Guards regiment. These night-bombers flew more than 24,000 combat missions. They clocked up a phenomenal tally of medals, including twenty-four awards of the highest accolade a" Heroine of the Soviet Union. They flew in many major combat zones, from Stalingrad, to Sevastopol and Warsaw. By 1945 they had helped chase the invaders right back to the heart of the German capital. On the Reichstag a" the German parliament building a" one young bomber girl scrawled this in graffiti: *Hurrah! The 46th Women's Guard Regiment flew as far as Berlin. Long live Victory!'

Today these women have avenged the heavy centuries of the oppression of women.

Josef Stalin.

The female regiments were the creation of a remarkable woman called Marina Raskova. She was the first woman to qualify as an Air Force navigator and the first female instructor at the great Zhukovski Air Academy. In 1938 she joined an attempt to set a long-distance flight record across Russia in a plane called Rodina, which means Motherland. After the German invasion thousands of girls and women clamoured to be allowed to fight in defence of their motherland. Raskova appealed for girls in the Air Force. She was swamped with new recruits a" air crew and mechanics a" who underwent harsh training programmes to get them ready for battle. Raskova was hero-wors.h.i.+pped by the regiments because of her skills, her compa.s.sion and her commitment. Sadly she didn't live long enough to see the end of the war. Her plane was lost in a snow storm.

You knew your friend was going to fly it in combat, and you did everything, even beyond your physical might and strength, to have it in perfect condition and to save the life of your aircrew.