The smooth, almost featureless glacier was easy going, and in an hour he drew close enough to hear the Darwinists' shouts as they worked on their wounded airship. He climbed up the valley's side, until he reached a ledge overlooking the vast shape.
Alek stood at the edge, astonished by what he saw below.
The wreck looked like a corner of hell bubbling up through the snow. Flocks of winged creatures coiled around hollows in the wilting gasbag. Crewmen moved across the great beast's skin, accompanied by bizarre double-snouted, six-legged dogs that sniffed and pawed at every bullet hole. The green lights he'd seen from the castle covered the creature. They were crawling, like glowing maggots on dead meat.
And the stench! Rotten eggs and cabbage, and a salty smell disturbingly close to the fish he'd had for dinner. Alek wondered for a moment if the Germans were right after all. These godless beasts were an insult to nature itself. Perhaps a war was worth ridding the world of them.
"A VAST FORM STRETCHES OUT."
And yet he couldn't take his eyes from the creature. Even lying wounded it looked so powerful, more like something from legend than the work of men.
Four searchlights flared to life, illuminating one flank of the creature. Alek could see now why the beast had rolled sideways during the crash: The gondolas hanging from its underside had escaped being flattened against the snow.
Steeling himself, he climbed down to the glacier, heading toward the unlit side of the creature. Only a few men worked there, though the damage looked just as bad. Drawing nearer, Alek stepped lightly, his snowshoes shushing in the darkness.
As he stole down the length of the airship, the green glow seemed to be bleeding out onto the ice. Surely the beast was dying.
He'd been a fool to think he could help. Perhaps he should just leave the medicines somewhere and slip away... .
A soft moan came from the shadows.
Alek stole closer to the sound, the air growing warm around him. His stomach twisted. This was living heat from the creature's body! Fighting nausea, he went a few steps nearer, trying not to look at the green lights crawling beneath the creature's skin.
A young airman lay in the darkness, curled against the beast's flank. His eyes were closed and his nose bloody.
Alek crouched beside him.
The airman was just a boy, with fine features and sandy hair. The collar of his flight suit was caked with blood, and his face looked deathly pale in the soft green light. He had to have been slumped here on the ice for the hours since the crash, the giant creature's warmth keeping him alive.
Alek opened one of the medical satchels, fishing through the bottles for smelling salts and rubbing alcohol.
He waved the salts under the boy's nose.
"Barking spiders!" the boy croaked in a high voice, his eyes fluttering open.
Alek frowned, wondering if he'd heard the words right.
"Are you well?" he ventured in English.
"A bit scrambled in the attic," the boy said, rubbing his head. He sat up slowly, taking in the scene around them, and his glassy eyes widened. "Blisters! We came down hard, didn't we? The poor beastie looks a bloody wreck."
"You're rather bloody yourself," Alek said, twisting open the bottle of rubbing alcohol. He dampened a bandage and held it against the boy's face.
"Ow! Stop that!" The boy pushed the bandage away and sat up straight, his gaze becoming clearer. He looked suspiciously at Alek's snowshoes. "Who are you, anyway?"
"I'm here to help. I live nearby."
"Up here? In all this barking snow?"
"Yes." Alek cleared his throat, wondering what to say. He'd always been hopeless at any sort of lying. "In a village, of sorts."
The boy narrowed his eyes. "Wait a wee minute - you talk like a Clanker!"
"Well ... I suppose I do. We speak a dialect of German in this part of Switzerland."
The boy stared at him another moment, then sighed and rubbed his head. "Right, you're Swiss. The crash must've knocked me silly. For a squick there I thought you were one of those bum-rags who shot us down."
Alek raised an eyebrow. "And then landed here so I could tend to your bloody nose?"
"I said it was a wee bit daft," the boy said, yanking the alcohol-soaked bandage from Alek's hand. He pressed it against his nose and winced. "But thanks for your trouble. It's lucky you came along, or my bum would've been frostbit to blazes!"
Alek raised an eyebrow, wondering if the boy always talked this way, or if he was still groggy from the crash. Even bloody and bruised, he had an odd sort of swagger, as if he crash-landed in giant airships every day.
"Yes," Alek said. "A frostbitten bum would've been unfortunate."
The boy smiled. "Give us a lift, would you?"
They grasped hands and pulled each other up, the other boy still unsteady. But when he gained his feet, he bowed triumphantly, pulled off a glove and held out his hand.
"Midshipman Dylan Sharp, at your service."
TWENTY-THREE
Deryn waited for the strange Swiss boy to shake her hand. After a moment's hesitation he finally reached out.
"My name's Alek," he said. "Pleased to meet you."
Deryn smiled, though her head was aching. The boy was about her age, with reddish-brown hair and sharp, handsome features. His leather coat had once been posh, but it was threadbare now. A twitchiness animated the boy's dark green eyes, as if he were ready to bound away on his ridiculous shoes.
All very odd, Deryn thought.
"Are you sure you're quite all right?" Alek asked. His English was dead proper, even with the Clanker accent.
"Right enough," Deryn said. She stamped feeling back into her feet, wondering when the dizziness was going to go away. Her attic had been scrambled, that was certain. She couldn't recall the exact moment of the crash, only the descent - the snow rising up, the airship rolling over, threatening to crush her if she didn't climb fast enough ...
Deryn glanced down at her safety line; it was stretched and frayed but still attached to the ratlines. She must have been dragged alongside as the airbeast skidded across the snow. If the ship had rolled over any farther, she'd have wound up a greasy squick beneath the whale.
"A wee bit dizzy, is all," she added, looking up at the bullet-holed membrane. The bitter-almond smell of leaking hydrogen filled her muzzy head. "Not half as bad as this beastie here."