“Monster” must have been a foreign word to this old man, for he straightened again, ecstatic. The infestation howled and lashed out. Tendrils went in all directions. Laura and Okane lurched apart to avoid one, and Laura had to make two more hopping sidesteps to avoid following attacks. Some spectators were bowled over or slammed into walls. An unlucky few found themselves wrapped in dark ooze. Instead of panicking they folded their hands and closed their eyes in semblance of prayer.
Dodging another flailing tendril, Laura pulled out her second Egg, cracked it against her amulet, and threw it. This time she wasn’t so lucky. The infestation saw it coming and pulled aside. The Egg whizzed right past it. The weapon smashed on the far wall, releasing an explosion of light and heat, casting eerie shadows over them. The infestation gurgled mockingly and withdrew its feelers. Juliana cussed and threw an Egg of her own, but she was too late. The captured people vanished into the main mass of the infestation. The creature barely paused to absorb them before flinging out more feelers and swooping out of the way, leaving Juliana’s Egg to smash, greenish and far more subdued, in the place it had been. The old man laughed and began preaching again, his words overcome by the sound of jubilant infestation.
With no more Eggs of her own, Laura began to copy Juliana’s earlier actions, shoving people toward the door.
“Come on, stupid,” she growled, hauling a man out of the way.
“The Spinner—”
“Laura!”
Okane’s yelp prompted her to jump aside without even looking. Another tendril crashed down where she’d been, smashing the floor. She yanked at the man’s arm, propelling him away from the blackness before turning back to the problem. The infestation swelled, writhing, feelers like tentacles grasping. On the other side of the room Okane attempted to usher people to the door, but Juliana shouted, “Leave them!”
He froze. “What?”
“It’s not worth it! They don’t want to leave. Try making them and you’re just distracting yourself. Kill the kaibutsu first!”
“But they’ll die!”
“Don’t let them bring you down with them!”
The audience resumed their song. The man Laura had kicked out walked right back in, adding his voice to the din. Laura felt the urge to both punch something and run away. If she didn’t know better she’d say they were all under a spell.
The infestation raised all its limbs and whipped them back down, faster than before. Laura threw herself out of the way. The gathered people barely flinched even when portions slammed into them, cutting off voices with sickening snaps of bone and sending cracks into the floor. Laura dug in her bag as she scurried toward Okane. No Eggs left, of course. She had some Bijou, but considering this infestation seemed to be an acrobat, they might do more damage to people than to the monster.
“Okay,” she hissed as she grew level with him, “once we get out of this we make a pact. One of us has to learn how to use that gun properly.”
Okane made a noise that might’ve been frightened mirth as he pulled out an Egg. “The other person gets to carry the briefcase. I’ve only got two of these.”
Another of Juliana’s Eggs smashed, completely missing the infestation as it swung away, swirling tendrils behind it.
Okane’s eyes tracked its movement. “I can’t get it if it keeps moving.”
“We need to pin it down.”
“How?”
“Grab its attention and trick it?”
As far as Laura could tell this infestation was accustomed to being fed by calm, welcoming people. It was fast and wary of Eggs now, but it had been coddled. It might have cut itself off from the hive mind as a result. Maybe it could be fooled?
“I’ll be bait.”
“- - - can’t be—”
Laura ran forward before he could finish his sentence. The infestation was distracted, swinging back and forth as Juliana kept aiming at it. The Eggs missed by mere inches, making the creature hiss gleefully. Laura stumbled to a halt beneath it, raised her arms the way the other people did, and shouted, “Spinner! Spinner!”
She couldn’t remember the rest, but her voice attracted attention anyway. The infestation stopped right over her, and its eye opened.
Shit. Laura shook, berating herself for thinking this was a good idea. Her legs trembled but otherwise refused to move. The eye narrowed laughingly, and the infestation sucked in all its tendrils. It plummeted.
Why couldn’t she move? She had to move! Damn that eye! With its feelers gone the infestation’s movement was limited, so it was suitably pinned down. She should run, but even her arms felt frozen.
A weird ripple went through the creature, but before it could change its mind, an Egg smacked into it from either side. The greenish Egg burst first, producing a hissing cloud even as the gold one erupted with far more power. The infestation shrieked, attempting to catch itself, but any of the feelers it formed burned away. Gold lines spread, crisscrossing the monster’s surface, causing the blackness to dry out and flake as smoke spewed into the air. The eye snapped shut for protection, and new feeling flooded through Laura’s legs. She tripped off the dais just in time as the infestation smashed down. Smoke whooshed outward and Laura choked on it as she rolled away. Once far enough she jumped to her feet, pulling her bandana over her mouth. She heard muffled cries of surprise but couldn’t see anyone. The black cloud curled to fill all corners of the room with its reek. A smoke screen?
“Okane!” she called. “Okane, you okay?”
She got a distant response, but couldn’t think on it long. Something rumbled, louder and louder and closer and warping until finally devolving into a horrible, piercing scream. The infestation bulled out of the smoke, hauling its fractured form on spindly legs. Laura dashed aside. She was closer to the wall than expected. The creature crashed into solid stone and flailed. Its shrieking boomed louder than any of the Underyear bands.
Laura reached for her bag; this close, Bijou would work perfectly. Hands grabbed her from behind. Probably Okane trying to haul her out of harm’s way. She was about to give him a verbal lashing, but her arms were pinned roughly to her sides and a voice not Okane’s rang close to her ear.
“Don’t you take another step!”
The old man. She struggled, but he kept her restrained.
“Let go!”
“Oh no you don’t!” He grabbed her hair and wrenched her head up, so she looked at the infestation again. “You, my dear, are going to repent! Calm yourself, and allow fate to guide you on this path. Ascend, and greet the Spinner—”
“Laura!” Okane cried again, closer but still distant.
The infestation twisted, still flaking. Its eye opened in its darkest portion. Laura froze again at the sight. The creature shuffled, regaining balance, and charged again. A magical crack came from the left and Okane bowled into them, grappling with the man’s hold. The sharp movement jerked them around, the red eye slipped out of sight, and Laura could move again. She closed her own eyes to keep from being immobilized and wrestled herself free. She heard the infestation approaching, a rasping slide along the floor and swift sharp padding from its spindle legs.
Bijou, she could get the Bijou now. She yanked the marbles from her bag along with a wire. She squinted at them with one eye, determinedly not looking at the incoming monster as she flicked the wire. It sparked but the marble didn’t catch. There was no glow, not so much as a shred of magic she could sense. She tried again, to no avail. Was it malfunctioning? The marble was greenish. Puer-made. Did they need to be armed differently than Amicae ones? Armed like the Eggs and Sinkers? Or would it blow up in her face as soon as it touched an amulet? Okane stumbled into her and looked around. She couldn’t see his face but heard him wheeze in surprise.
“Damn it!” she hissed. The wire sparked slightly and she tried again, but still it refused to light.
A red flash caught her eye. Juliana’s strange Egg arced out of the smoke. Its insides bubbled, flashing scarlet before landing on the creatur
e’s back. The resulting blast almost blinded her. The infestation screamed again, staggering under the strain as crimson light lanced through its body. It only managed a few more steps before exploding, sending ashy flakes and red sparks flying. From the resulting cloud flew a small object. It hit the ground with a crack and rolled to their feet. A small lantern bumped into the toe of Laura’s shoe, its stony exterior fractured from the fall. This must be the amulet.
“Egg,” she rasped, gesturing.
Okane dropped down and cracked his second Egg over the lantern. A sigh issued from it, and the infestation was truly dead.
“It’s over,” Okane sighed, setting hands on his knees and bowing his head. The old man crumpled behind them, wailing about his stupid dead monster. Laura wanted to kick him.
Juliana emerged from the smoke, her goggles large and insectlike above a gas mask that warped her voice. “Are you two all right?”
“We’re in one piece,” Laura replied.
“Good. Is that the amulet?”
“It is.” She puzzled over it a moment. “It’s not broken, beyond the fall. I thought Sinkers broke any amulet they touched.”
“Sinkers do,” said Juliana.
Then it wasn’t a Sinker? But Puer’s Eggs and Bijou were all green, and Laura had never seen kin weapons beyond the Sinkers in colors outside the yellow color range. She made to ask what red meant, but the smoke dissipated, and the words stuck in her throat.
The people around the room began to break formation, murmuring frantically, eyes wide with fright instead of awe. One of the women called for someone by name, with no response. As if they’d been under the control of a hypnotist—maybe the infestation’s eye—and now set free, they milled about, the level of panic rising as they realized how many people were missing, the tarry stains on the walls, the splintered and bloody floor. So few remained. Fifteen out of however many people this church could hold on a holiday.
The Sweepers directed everyone out of the church. The police converged on the group and took people aside. Mateo hurried between them, holding hands, whispering urgently as he checked on each one’s health.
“I’m glad at least one member of the priesthood is looking out for people,” Laura grumbled. “Where’d that other one go? He should be in handcuffs by now.”
“He hasn’t left the building,” said Okane. “I don’t think he followed us up, but there’s no way he can get away. The gate’s the only entrance.”
“In that sense, this job went well,” said Juliana. She looked at Okane and said, “Good work out there.”
He tilted his head, bemused. “I didn’t do much. That was a—well, an interesting Egg - - - had there.”
Juliana winked. Downright winked. “All thanks to you! I—Oh, there’s our culprit. Let me get the chief. We’re not letting him get away.”
She hurried away.
“Thanks to me?” Okane scoffed. “What did I do?”
“I suppose you pinpointed the infestation?” said Laura.
Certainly nothing to do with the Egg. Still, she didn’t feel comfortable. Today Juliana had focused entirely on Okane, as if Laura were an afterthought. Hadn’t it been the other way around just yesterday?
At the church doors, the old man had finally appeared. He eyed the crowd warily, but tried to slink toward the gates regardless. He stopped short as Mateo blocked his path.
“A gateway to the Spinner?” Mateo spat. “Did you really believe that?”
The old man bristled. “Of course! The Spinner himself sent it! It spoke to me in the Spinner’s voice, I cared for this gift so long, and now they’ve ruined it! The Spinner’s will—”
Mateo fisted his hands. “You let people walk to their death! Did you even give them last rites?”
“Why should I? We were ascending to life everlasting!”
Laura didn’t know much Spiritualist teaching, but even she knew that death rites were critical. They believed that loss of rites essentially condemned the dead to never enter the afterlife. Postmortem rites could be performed over a corpse, but with an infestation, with no bodies, all those people were lost. Mateo’s composure shattered so completely, he slipped into the Ralurian verbal tic.
“You blasphemer, ra!” he raged. “Don’t you dare claim to know the Spinner’s will, ra! Murderer, ra! Forsaker, ra! You mar his weaving! A four-ra on you!”
The shouting caught the police officers’ attention immediately. The old man panicked under their eyes and tried to shove Mateo aside. Despite his height the priest made a magnificent roadblock, and Okane jumped in to help him head the man off. A pair of officers ran toward them from the gate. The woman who’d been calling for someone started screaming.
“My daughter! Where’s my daughter? Please, Spinner, no!”
“I saved them!” the old man cried, still struggling as handcuffs locked around his wrists. “They’re beyond suffering! In the Spinner’s hands!”
The officers heaved him away. The rest of the crowd watched, silent and grim. Laura caught a glimpse of red behind all of the black uniforms. Frowning, she craned her neck to get a better look.
Theron stood near the back, watching the proceedings with no hint of his earlier smile. He picked at his necklace, eyes narrowed, before he met her eyes. He inclined his head, then turned. As he did his eyes caught the light oddly. His pupils flashed blue, but only for a split second, and then he was gone as if he were never there.
9
WATCHER
Underyear ended with a bang, as promised by every year before. It was the last hurrah, the “true call to spring,” and all the activity of the previous six days was amplified. It happened the same way every year, but Laura couldn’t remember it feeling quite so desperate before.
“It’s like they’re afraid winter will last forever this time,” she murmured as she stepped off the trolley.
“Maybe they are,” said Morgan. Cheryl seemed far too interested in the crowds to care about the conversation, and maybe that was a good thing; Morgan looked morose. “Times seem dark and they’re desperate for a change.”
“Because of the monsters?”
Morgan nodded. “Nobody knows what to do without that sense of security.”
“It wasn’t security,” said Laura. “An infestation still could’ve happened at Underyear and they’d have just pretended it was something else so no one could ever prepare for it or know the warning signs. We’re safer this way.”
“My head knows that, but my heart has some catching up to do.”
“There they are!” Cheryl called.
They’d arrived at the tree. The trunk was still there with its scattered leaves, obscured by a wire-topped fence marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Around the back, at the edge of the Quarter’s wall, everyone from Acis Road had gathered. Mr. Brecht drank heavily from a hip flask and bemoaned the fact that his daughter hadn’t come to the party; the Keedlers exchanged weary looks at this, Mr. Keedler shaking his head sadly while Mrs. Keedler asked if the girl had been invited at all; the pawnshop owner and two other natives sat aside, and while they hunched as if speaking of illegal deeds, they were really playing a game of “six levels to Barnaby Gilda” and seemed to be stuck on the link between the actor’s latest film and one of the newest Litus imports.
“Butler,” Laura whispered loudly as she passed them.
One of them clapped his hands, glasses sliding almost off his nose, and said, “That director worked on Merriweather Skies, where Gilda was the butler!”
“How did it take you that long, Ju-Min?” one of the others grumbled.
“He still got three levels to your five,” said the pawnshop owner. “That means he wins the bet.”
“Yes, you buy drinks for everyone,” said Ju-Min.
“That doesn’t count if he cheated.”
“How, pray tell, did he cheat?”
“Someone just said it!”
“But they didn’t mention any films, did they?”
Laura sped away from that d
iscussion, Morgan snickering at her heels. Near the middle of the group, Okane was making small talk with Amelia, and both looked up at her approach.
“Glad to see you made it!” said Amelia, flashing a grin.
“Sorry it took so long,” said Laura.
Amelia waved her off. “It’s Underyear, of course the traffic’s murder. Everyone’s getting to their seats for the fireworks.”
“Amelia said this was Clae’s secret spot,” said Okane.
“The Sinclair spot, more like,” Amelia snickered. “They had an obsession with this tree. Rosemarie napped here and those twins climbed it like monkeys. Clae fell out of it once! After that Mr. Sinclair invited other Sweepers with them so we could catch any falling children. Underyear here was fantastic. I’d expected to see more ex-apprentices here again, but I suppose they’re either dead or too ashamed to show their faces.” The humor slid from her face, delving into melancholy. “It was Underyear when Anselm died. That might be part of it. There’s only so much badness you can stand.”
“You just have to remember the good times,” said Morgan, sitting down on Amelia’s other side. “No matter how much bad comes your way, it doesn’t change the fact that good things happened too.”
“I didn’t know you were a philosopher,” Laura teased.
“Is that your profession?” said Amelia, instantly intrigued.
“Oh, no,” Morgan laughed. “I’m a cook.”
That had Amelia even more interested. As she started grilling Morgan on ingredient replacements, Laura turned to Okane and said, “No sign of Juliana or Lester?”
“They haven’t been to the shop since the start of Underyear,” he replied. “Mrs. Keedler went out of her way to invite them, but Juliana said they’re busy with business.”
“Business?” Laura gave him a skeptical look. “I get Juliana’s enthusiasm, but who’s open during Underyear, beyond the vendors? Unless she’s badgering Albright, it can’t be Sweeper-related.”
“Apparently she mentioned a guest.”
Laura’s eyes narrowed, and she dropped her voice to a whisper. “You don’t think it’s the person who gave her that red Egg? It had to come from somewhere.”
The Monstrous Citadel Page 15