there should be no noise in the house. Where was Owen? Where was Mary? All of a sudden memory came flooding back. Memory that had been locked away for years, sharp and painful. What had happened? How long had she wandered round in a fog?
Martha recalled the years she had spent in this little house with Owen, barely able to function, all that she had been locked away in her mind. She remembered everything now. The trip to the City. The Workhouse. Owen’s father. Grief stabbed her. He was gone. His car had driven into the harbour. She bowed her head and felt the tears spring to her eyes.
But beneath it all there was a resolve which had not diminished with the years. Martha straightened again and stood up. She had to find Owen. She moved to the bottom of the stairs and listened, then went up them, instinct telling her not to switch on the light.
His room was empty. She had expected it to be. Her eyes swept over it. The old model plane hanging from the ceiling. Owen’s guitar. Then she saw the trunk under the window and knew it as once. Swiftly she knelt in front of it. It was Gobillard’s trunk, and in place of a lock, the Mortmain. She placed her hands on the trunk. She knew that catastrophe had been removed from the world and been sealed in the trunk. But by whose hand?
Surely, she thought, not Owen? He’s only a boy. But where is he?
Martha sat on the bed and tried to think. Her son was out there in the world on his own. She had neglected him for too long. Lifting his pillow, she held it to her face so that she could smell him. She put her arms around it and held it, as if the pillow were Owen.
Mary, she thought… it had been Mary who had awakened her. Perhaps she knew something?
Martha went quickly down the stairs and out of the front door. She had never seen the moon so bright. She could see the road clearly. Trees and bushes cast strange shadows across it. She walked fast, all of her senses alert to danger. Reminding her of the way she had once been, when every waking hour had seemed full of peril. Every few metres she stopped and listened, but she was alone.
Then she rounded the bend before Mary’s shop. At first, she thought the shape on the ground was a shadow, until she realised it was a body. She ran forward and found… Mary.
Martha put her hand on Mary’s face. It was very cold and at first she thought it was the chill of the grave. But as she bent to put her ear to Mary’s chest, the old woman moaned and her eyes opened. Martha looked into them. Mary was trying to communicate, but she didn’t have the power to speak. With a strength which belied her slender frame, Martha stooped and lifted the old woman.
In Mary’s cottage, Martha lit a fire and placed Mary on a chair near it. She heated some soup and held the cup to her mouth. “It’ll warm you up.”
“No, what chills me will never be warm again,” Mary said faintly. “Johnston used the Harsh cold against me.”
Martha shivered. The name of those great enemies and their world stirred a cold memory in her.
“But the Harsh are not the immediate danger this time…” Mary’s breath rasped and Martha could see the great effort she was making to speak. She took Mary’s hand. “Time… is in danger. I’m sorry, Martha, I couldn’t wake you until now…”
“Why not?” Martha said. There were tears in her eyes. “And where is Owen?” But Mary’s eyes had closed again and she did not reply.
Martha sat with the old woman. And as she watched, her memory became more complete. She remembered things that made her smile. Owen as a baby looking up at her and laughing for the first time. She remembered things that caused her pain, that made tears of regret and longing spring to her eyes. And she remembered some things that were so hurtful she almost wished that Mary had not wakened her.
The hours passed, but Mary did not speak again. When Martha touched her skin it was colder than it seemed possible for skin to be. But still the old woman’s breath came.
Martha stood up. She had to stay with Mary, the only person who could tell her where Owen was. She stretched and ran her hands through her hair.
“Ouch!” she exclaimed. She had pricked her finger. Carefully, Martha reached up and removed the long, thin key that Mary had hidden in her hair. She turned it over in her hand, frowning. The key also stirred a memory, something she couldn’t quite grasp.
When Wesley and Owen returned to the Skyward, Dr Diamond barely greeted Pieta. He had dragged a large blackboard into the middle of the room and was working frantically on it. Owen could see equations interspersed with arcs of what looked like planets.
Cati watched Dr Diamond. “What’s going on?” she whispered to Wesley.
Suddenly Dr Diamond threw down his chalk and strode towards the door. “Follow me!”
Puzzled, they did so, even Pieta. Outside it was almost as bright as day, the moon huge in the sky. They followed the doctor to the roof of the Workhouse where he stood with his hands on the crumbling parapet, looking up into the sky.
“She’s too close,” Wesley said quietly. “Ain’t that right?”
“Yes, Wesley,” the scientist said. “The shortage of time means many things, all of them serious, but this is the most immediate problem.”
“What is?” Cati asked.
“The fabric of space and time is loosening,” Dr Diamond said, “and as it does so, gravity is distorting. In this case, getting stronger. The earth is starting to pull the moon closer.”
“Gravity keeps the moon in orbit around the earth,” Owen said.
“That’s right,” Dr Diamond said, “and compared to other planets, the moon is very close to us. At the moment too close. You can see how large it is.”
“What do you mean by too close?” Pieta said.
“Soon gravity will bring the moon to within a few hundred miles of the earth and then—”
“It’ll hit us?” Cati said, staring at the moon as if she’d never seen it before.
“It won’t need to,” Dr Diamond said sombrely. “When the moon gets so close it will cause havoc… massive tides, tsunamis… The earthquakes have started already. But yes, Cati, eventually it will strike the earth.”
“When, Doctor?” Owen said. “How long have we got?”
“I don’t know exactly,” Dr Diamond said, “but I think it is only a matter of days.”
Dr Diamond equipped Owen and Cati with magno torches, almost like lanterns with a handle. He fetched warm leather flying jackets for both of them and flying hats with earflaps. Cati already wore a pair of leather boots and the doctor sent her to get a pair for Owen.
When Owen was dressed he looked up and saw Cati and Wesley grinning at him. “I feel ridiculous!”
“You look… wonderful,” Cati said, choking back a giggle.
“Put your own hat on,” Dr Diamond said. “From what little I’ve learned about where we’re going, we’ll need warm clothing.” He was wearing the biggest flying jacket that Owen had ever seen, and his flying hat had goggles attached. “Pieta…”
“I was wondering when you’d get around to me,” the tall woman said.
“I want you and Wesley—”
“To guard the Starry and the Raggies, and to poke the moon away with sticks if it gets too close.”
“If you can, yes. And watch out for Johnston.”
“Wait,” Pieta said. She took the doctor aside, her face serious. “This is too sudden. Do you know where you are going and what you are going into? The old stories describe