Cloudland Read Online Free PDF

listeners leapt from their carpets. Even the floating sheep turned their patient eyes on Lucy. Then all the Cloudians rushed towards her. Such flickering whiteness: it was like being attacked by snow. Clammy hands flung Lucy up and spun her over until everything whirled.
    At last, a high note sounded and there was silence again. Lucy found herself standing on a long table with Daniel beside her and the Cloudians massed at her feet: a crowd of colourless faces. She stumbled against Daniel and was grateful for the touch of human flesh in so much floating light.
    â€˜Protector? Why do they call you their Protector?’ Daniel’s voice sounded loud in the silence but the Cloudians had their eyes fixed on the wall behind Lucy, where statues, carved out of polished cloud, stood rank upon rank. As Lucy turned her head, she saw a statue’s hand pull away from the wall. She assumed at first it was a trick of shadows but she heard Daniel cough out air and knew he had seen it too.
    The statue was a Cloudian, tall and gaunt like Wist, with a hooked nose and a mouth like a paper cut. Though it was still a statue, staring dully at air, it was opening its mouth and yawning – so slowly Lucy could hear the cloud it was made of creak.
    Tearing its arms from the wall, the statue rubbed its eyes, which lit up, smooth and hard. It loosened and shook free its hair. At last, without making a sound, it took one long step from the wall to the table.
    The Cloudians sighed and bowed their heads. Still, nobody spoke. The statue worked its head around and fixed its eyes on Lucy. Without moving its lips, it said: ‘Welcome, Protector.’
    Lucy realised the statue must have heard Wist name her. Her skin shrank under the idea of all those other statues, listening. ‘There’s been a mistake.’ She meant to speak boldly but her words came out ragged. ‘I’m not your Protector. January sent me but –’
    The statue had turned away. Raising its hands with splayed fingers, it cried: ‘The Heir found her. January raised her. Our Protector is here!’ The air broke open with the Cloudians’ shouts: ‘Protector! Protector! Protector! Protector!’ Above them, the statue gestured for silence: ‘Eat, and then plan.’ Jerking itself around, it stalked to the far end of the table.
    Across the Citadel, the Cloudians shoved forward to find a seat. Daniel jabbed Lucy’s ribs. ‘What does it mean: Protector? Why does it call you that?’
    â€˜I don’t know.’ Lucy could feel blood pulsing through a vein in her forehead, the start of a nagging headache. ‘I told them it was a mistake –’
    The statue paused and forced its head all the way around until it was staring directly back at them. ‘Sit by me.’
    The Cloudians at the table stretched out clammy hands to brush Lucy’s and Daniel’s ankles as they passed. At the end of the table there were three chairs, each backed with curlicues formed like rams’ horns. Propped in the middle chair, the statue beckoned Lucy and Daniel to sit on either side. Lucy and Daniel paused for a moment, face to face, but it was impossible to speak while the statue sat watching them with its blank eyes.
    The statue beat on the table with a stiff-fingered hand, making a hollow sound. At once, the far wall shrugged into an arch and a line of Cloudians scurried into the Citadel.
Stratus
, Lucy realised: the lowest, drabbest kind of cloud. They were so hunched their noses scraped the floor. Only their long feet kept them from somersaulting over their faces. On their backs, they carried platters piled with food. Withoutlooking up, they formed a line behind the seated Cloudians. With a dip of one shoulder, they swung their platters onto the table, then shuffled back and waited.
    They had set out an extraordinary banquet. There was nothing but cake: mounds of it, covered with soft meringue. The seated Cloudians clapped their