City of Time by Eoin McNamee Read Free Book Online

hands on his friend's forehead, and closed his eyes. Wesley seemed very far away, at the bottom of a deep well where nightmarish things lurked. Owen could feel the darkness entering his own mind, smothering his thoughts, dragging him down and down, until panic overwhelmed him. He struggled to get back to the surface but couldn't. The darkness would take him and hold him there forever.
    And then he sensed Wesley's presence reaching out to him. With a final terrible wrench, Owen turned away from the dark and forced his mind to wakefulness, Wesley with him. He staggered back and fell against Silkie's bed, his hands brushing her face and bright hair.
    Owen straightened up, as weary as he had ever been. As he looked down on his friend, Wesley's blue eyes opened. In one single movement, he threw himself on Owen, his arms flailing.
    “You won't take us!” Wesley shouted. “You won't!”
    “Wesley!” Cati shouted. He stopped and lookedaround, bewildered. He rubbed a hand slowly over his thin face, then reached out and touched one of the children beside him.
    “What's happening, Cati?” he said. “What's happening to us Raggies?”
    Owen looked out over the harbor. Cati had persuaded Wesley to leave the other children in the Starry and go up into the warehouse above. The warehouse was chilly and unwelcoming, bearing no resemblance to the warm and friendly place that Owen knew. Cati got Wesley to light a driftwood fire in the grate to dry their clothes, which were still wet from the flood. As he worked, Cati told him everything they knew, about the message from the Sub-Commandant and the City of Time, and the flood that had swept Owen up the river.
    “First thing I seen when I woke up,” Wesley said. “The moon's not in the right place. Something is bad wrong. The Raggies ain't doing too good.”
    “It's because they're afloat in time, I think,” Owen said. “They're like fish in a tank. It's as if the water is running out and the little bit that is left is getting stale and dirty.”
    Normally Wesley was tough and resourceful, but now he looked lost.
    “Don't worry,” Cati said, taking him by the arm. “We'll sort it out.” Owen wished that he felt as confident.
    Wesley disappeared outside. Owen stood in front ofthe fire, watching the steam coming off his still-damp trousers. When Wesley came back he brought several fresh fish, cleaned and ready to cook. He put them on a stick and started to grill them over the fire. As the smell filled the room, Owen realized he was starving.
    Cati had brought some bread in a leather bag that had somehow remained almost dry. They ate the fish and bread with their fingers, in silence. Owen couldn't remember eating anything more delicious.
    When they had finished every scrap, Wesley stood up and stretched. His ribs showed through his ragged clothes and worry made his face look even more gaunt than usual.
    “We should get back to the Workhouse,” Cati said. But Wesley had gone to the window and was staring out to sea. “What is it?”
    “Look!” he said. In the distance a group of seals was racing across the ocean surface. “Killer whales chasing them,” Wesley said. “Which is odd. Too far north for a whale this time of year.”
    Owen joined them at the window. He could see the whale fins cutting the water behind the seals, who raced frantically toward a shoal of rocks. Just when he thought they had made it, a killer whale burst from the water beneath the seals. It seized one in its jaws and rose high in the air, the seal writhing frantically.
    “The poor seal,” Cati breathed.
    “It's the way of the sea,” Wesley said.
    The whale rose several meters from the water andturned as if to crash down nose first. But as they watched it they found they were watching not a live whale but the enormous skeleton of a whale, hanging for a moment in midair, the seal still held in the jaws of bone. Then, with a strange, muted splash, the bones plunged to the ocean and were gone.
    Wesley