Terra Nova

  Praise for Terra Nova,

  the second Molly Stout Adventure

  “Molly’s back! Terra Nova packs the same page-turning action as Dominion did and with every bit as much of the imaginative, thought-provoking, enviro-political clout. Molly Stout is as brave as ever but she has matured, grappling with what is wrong and what is right—questioning her motives. I think Arbuthnott has come up with a whole new subgenre; let's call it Spirit Punk. I love it!”

  —Tim Wynne-Jones, award-winning author

  Praise for Dominion,

  the first Molly Stout Adventure

  “Molly is an independent and thoughtful character, and her skill as an engineer enhances her appeal...Arbuthnott creates an intriguing steampunk world with a smooth combination of technology and magic... A fast-paced read with a strong female lead, this will leave steampunk and adventure fans looking forward to a hinted-at sequel.”

  —School Library Journal

  “Molly’s heroic rebellion against everything she has been brought up to believe and value is at the heart of an action-packed narrative. Heroes and rogues can be male or female, the engineer is as likely to be a woman as a man...How refreshing.”

  —Quill & Quire

  “This book will appeal to both historical fiction and science fiction fans. I found myself unable to put this book down and envisioning it as a movie much like the beloved Harry Potter series.”

  —School Library Connection

  “What a fabulous read! A truly moving book. I hope there are many more to come.”

  —Tim Wynne-Jones, award-winning author

  “Feisty young Molly will keep [readers] grounded in this page-turning mystical adventure.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  The Molly Stout Adventures

  Dominion

  Terra Nova

  Copyright © 2018 Shane Arbuthnott

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Arbuthnott, Shane, author

  Terra nova / Shane Arbuthnott.

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-1-4598-1444-8 (softcover).—ISBN 978-1-4598-1445-5 (pdf).—ISBN 978-1-4598-1446-2 (epub)

  I. Title.

  PS8601.R363T47 2018 jC813'.6 C2017-904566-0

  C2017-904567-9

  First published in the United States, 2018

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2017949709

  Summary: In this fantasy novel for middle-grade readers, Molly has been fighting to free the spirits, but she fears her rebellion is only putting people and spirits in danger.

  Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

  Edited by Robin Stevenson

  Design by Rachel Page

  Cover images by Stocksy.com and Shutterstock.com

  Author photo by Erin Elizabeth Hoos Photography

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  www.orcabook.com

  21 20 19 18 • 4 3 2 1

  Orca Book Publishers is proud of the hard work our authors do and of the important stories they create. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it or did not check it out from a library provider, then the author has not received royalties for this book. The ebook you are reading is licensed for single use only and may not be copied, printed, resold or given away. If you are interested in using this book in a classroom setting, we have digital subscriptions that feature multiuser, simultaneous access to our books that are easy for your students to read. For more information, please contact digital@orcabook.com.

  To my parents, who never stopped me from leaping before I looked but were always there with bandages afterward.

  CONTENTS

  ACT ONE: REBELLION

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  ACT TWO: INCARCERATION

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  ACT THREE: REVOLUTION

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  AN EXCERPT FROM DOMINION

  ACT ONE: AIRBORNE

  ONE

  ACT ONE

  REBELLION

  ONE

  Molly clenched her hands, trying to hold them still, but it was no use. Her whole body was vibrating, her heart beating so fast it felt like it might shake itself loose from her chest. She hated this part. The moment before action, before chaos. It felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing you were about to fall.

  Ariel, her companion aetheric spirit, floated up next to her. The blue whorls of her body coalesced into a slender human form, and she crouched down next to Molly. “You will have to be careful with this one,” she whispered. “The spirit in the furnace is agitated beyond reason. Once released, I cannot predict what she will do.”

  Molly took a deep breath and gripped the cornice of the roof where she perched. “Any idea how strong she is?”

  “She is old, and quite strong, but very, very tired.”

  The factory squatted in front of them like a fortress. Its soot-blackened walls were broken only by a few small windows up near the roof. The front doors were made of inch-thick iron, and Molly already knew they were barred and bolted. The only way in was through those tiny windows. They glared out of the dark wall like fiery eyes.

  “Are Rory and Kiernan in place?” Molly asked.

  “Yes.”

  Molly nodded. “I guess we’re ready then. I mean, are you ready?”

  The aetheric spirit glowed briefly, her eagerness apparent. “I have brought as many winds as I could gather,” she said. Molly looked up and saw bright streams of color swirling in the sky above the factory—slow, warm oranges, frigid whites and stately blues. Molly lowered her eyes, blinking the bright streaks away. Over the past year she had grown used to her ability to see the winds, but sometimes they were still blinding.

  She looked to Ariel. The spirit’s edges flickered, as they often did when she was excited.

  Molly gripped the brick cornice tighter. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  Ariel’s human shape dissolved into blue filaments of wind. She flowed around Molly, wrapping around her as tight as bandages until Molly’s entire body was covered in glowing blue light. Ariel lifted them both into the air, and Molly felt a momentary joy as she left the rooftop behind. She loved nothing so much as flying with Ariel. But they weren’t here to enjoy themselves.

  They shot forward like a bullet. Ariel sent a stream of wind before them, shattering the nearest window, and Molly and the spirit flew through.

  She only had a moment to survey the factory—she saw winding conveyor belts, countless faces looking up at her, and the huge furnace looming against the back wall—before Ariel dropped her to the ground just inside the doors. Molly met the eyes of the factory workers nearest to her. Their backs were bent, their eyes sunken. They were so small—even the oldest couldn’t be more than fifteen years old, like her—but their tired faces gave the impression of incredible age. They, like the spirits that powered the machinery, were prisoners here, not allowed to
leave until they were too broken to be useful. A burly man in an ill-fitting suit—one of the foremen, Molly guessed—hurried down a set of metal stairs toward her, and anger bloomed in her chest.

  She reached up, and a bright white wind flowed in through the broken window, rushing down to twine itself around her fingers. She cast it forward, hitting the foreman in the chest. He flew back several feet and collapsed against the wall.

  She turned back to the gaping workers. “Um, hi,” she said, then cleared her throat. “I’m Molly Stout. We’re here to free the spirits.” Eyes widened in recognition at the name, but none left their stations. “So, you know, you should probably leave.” No one moved. Molly noticed one young boy, no more than eleven, still piecing together the metal parts of an iron trap that, once complete, would have been used to cage even more spirits.

  “Don’t know why I bother,” she muttered. She turned to the door. The bar across it was sturdy, but it was locked in place by only a thin chain. She pulled the bolt cutters from her belt and cut the chain, pushing the bar away. It fell to the ground with a loud clang.

  The sound of the falling bar did what Molly’s words had not and pierced the workers’ exhaustion. Several of them screamed and dropped their tools, running pell-mell for the doors, and the rest followed. Molly pushed the doors open wide. Her brothers waited on the other side.

  As the first of the workers ran through the door, Kiernan stepped forward. “All right, everyone follow me!” he shouted in his deep, commanding voice. Despite the general panic, most of the crowd heard him and followed as he ran down the street to the north. Why can’t I do that? Molly wondered. Her other brother, Rory, chased after the stragglers and sent them in the right direction.

  The factory was almost empty now. The foreman was pulling himself to his feet. Molly walked over to him, and he cowered away from her.

  “You can leave too. But don’t follow the kids.” He stared up at her for a moment, then nodded and scrambled out the doors. She sighed, slightly disappointed. Looked like he might try to fight me for a second there.

  “Molly!” Ariel called. She was hovering beside a tangle of machinery near the back of the factory, where the conveyor belts began. “Several aqueous devices here. A good place to start.”

  Molly nodded and jumped up to grab the walkway beside the conveyor belt. With the agility born of a childhood spent in the rigging of an airship, she clambered up over the railing and jumped across the conveyor belt to the far side, where Ariel and the spiritual machines sat waiting.

  “The iron looks cheap,” Molly said. “Shouldn’t be hard to break.”

  “Cheap or not, it is burning the spirits inside. This place is so full of iron that the air itself feels caustic. Please be quick.”

  Molly pulled her pry bar from the back of her belt.

  Working swiftly, she and Ariel made their way through the factory, opening the spiritual machines to free the spirits inside. Three aqueous spirits, four aetheric and ten small igneous spirits from the lamps, all told. Most were too disoriented or weak to move, but Ariel carried them gently out to the open air, away from the iron. Once the smaller machines were taken care of, Molly turned to the furnace.

  It was huge and clearly sturdier than the rest of the machinery in the factory. Thick iron plates, heavily patched, covered it from top to bottom, and it belched fire and smoke from narrow vents. It was still smelting the iron for the traps, despite the empty factory around it.

  To its right there was a heap of coal and wood to feed the machine. Might be able to get in through the feeder, Molly thought, but an access hatch would be better. She jumped down from the walkway and surveyed the base of the furnace. This close, the heat from the fire brought out beads of sweat on her forehead.

  Finally, tucked against the wall, she found what she was looking for—a small maintenance hatch, its hinges rusted shut. A few hard pushes with her pry bar broke up the rust, and she pulled the hatch open. A tangle of wires spilled out. Molly shoved these aside, not caring that a few came loose in her hands. Beyond the wires she found the plain metal box that housed the spirit—a spirit trap, just like countless others made by this very factory. She climbed halfway into the hatch.

  The trap was strong, clearly meant to hold a powerful spirit indefinitely, but it had not been maintained. At its bottom she found a small vent through which the spirit would get the oxygen it needed to keep its fires burning. Rust had begun to eat away at it, weakening the metal, giving Molly a way in.

  She used the back of her hand to wipe the sweat out of her eyes and brought out a chisel and hammer.

  “If you can hear me in there, and if you can understand me, I’m about to set you free,” Molly said as she chipped away at the rusted metal. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t burn my face off.” There was a rumble from inside the trap, which she hoped was a signal of understanding. She felt the heat on her face dim a little. “Okay. It should just be a moment more.”

  With a few more taps, the chisel broke through. Molly turned it and pried at the vent, pulling it halfway off. She saw flames flickering around the edges of the opening, and a bright red claw emerged.

  “Wait, wait!” she shouted, but the claw punched through, knocking the vent to the floor. Flames blossomed from the hole, and Molly dropped her tools and slithered backward out of the hatch. She felt fire lick the side of her head as she rolled out onto the factory floor, slapping at her hair to put it out.

  “Molly!” Ariel called, and a cool wind rushed in over her. Molly opened her eyes as Ariel landed beside her and saw a fiery form battering its way out of the maintenance hatch. A beak emerged, and flashing claws, and then the iron cracked and bent, and a vast bird made entirely of flame forced its way through, rising up into the air above the conveyor belts. Where it had touched the iron of the furnace, there were angry black streaks across its red skin, and one of its wings looked bent. Nevertheless it hovered in the air, angry and powerful.

  “I thought you said she was tired,” Molly said to Ariel.

  “And desperate enough to overcome that, it seems.”

  The spirit flapped her wings, and a blast of flame slammed into the furnace. The machine’s iron plates glowed white-hot and buckled under the heat. The spirit kept striking out until the furnace was nothing but a molten heap.

  “You should leave!” Molly shouted to it. “We don’t have long!”

  The spirit did not seem to hear her. She shrieked, and the air around her ignited, melting conveyor belts and walkways.

  Molly threw her arm over her head and turned away. “She’s going to burn the whole building down! Ariel, can you talk to her?” she shouted.

  “I will try!” The aetheric spirit rose into the air, struggling against the drafts created by the fire.

  Molly looked around. The floor between her and the door was already on fire, but to the right she thought she saw a gap between walkways that she could pass through. Molly rose and started toward it, then stopped.

  Something had moved beneath one of the conveyor belts. She crouched down to look again and saw a small boy huddled on the ground, his arms around his head. The conveyor belt above him was in flames.

  “Hey!” Molly shouted. “Get out of there!” She ran toward the boy, who did not move. “Bloody hell.” The rubber conveyor belt billowed smoke, and the flames flared higher as the spirit raged above them.

  Molly reached up with both hands, calling all the winds that would listen, and sent them forward across the fire. Streams of bright blue light flowed in through the factory doors and buffeted the conveyor belt, damping the flames. The boy finally looked up at what was happening. He saw Molly running toward him, and his eyes widened.

  “Go!” she shouted. “Go!”

  He still didn’t move. Molly sprinted to his side, pulling at the winds that now swirled around the factory. They gathered at her back as she wrapped her arms around the boy’s chest and pulled him out from beneath the belt, and then the winds lifted them both off the
ground, sending them arcing over the flaming machinery and down through the open door.

  The ground rushed up toward them. They were falling too fast for her to land on her feet. “Try to stay relaxed,” she muttered to the boy, and she curled herself around him, twisting to put her back to the ground.

  She landed hard, and all the air left her lungs. For a moment, black and white streaks warred across her vision. She closed her eyes and rolled away from the boy. After a few painful moments, her lungs relaxed and her breath returned. Her vision cleared.

  She rolled up onto her knees, one arm wrapped around her stomach.

  “Sorry about that,” she rasped. “That wasn’t what I meant to do. But you should be saf—”

  The look on the boy’s face stopped her. He was lying on the ground, seemingly unhurt, but his eyes were fixed on her with naked terror.

  “Hey. It’s okay,” she said. He only whimpered and dragged himself backward a few inches. “I’m not going to hurt you.” The boy still didn’t move. Molly rose to her feet and took a step toward him. The boy screamed and finally found his feet and bolted down the alleyway.

  “Hey, that’s the wrong way!” she shouted. “The foremen or the police will catch you that way!” The boy did not heed her. Molly thought about chasing him, but the image of his terrified eyes stuck her in place. She bent down and breathed deeply until the knot in her side undid itself, then turned back to the factory.

  The igneous spirit from the furnace was still bellowing inside, and two of the upper windows burst from the heat. She hurried to the door and peered inside, but the way was now blocked by flames.

  “Ariel!” she shouted.

  A jet of fire shot out the door, and Molly threw herself backward. Oh God, she thought. It’s too hot. Ariel can’t survive in there. What do I do?

  She looked up to the sky for any winds she could call on, but the force of the heat was pushing them back. “Ariel!” Molly called again, her voice barely audible over the roar of the flames.

  A moment later the heat subsided, the flames withdrawing into the factory. Molly moved forward cautiously. The factory was a burned-out husk now, the walls and roof charred coal black. The machinery had all melted. In the center of the factory, the great, flaming bird still hung, beating her wings slowly, but her violent heat had cooled. Molly could make out sooty black feathers beneath the fire.