The Monstrous Citadel

by Mirah Bolender

  “I’m sorry, but Miss Cherry said you were Laura Kramer and Okane Sinclair? Is this correct?”

  Laura tightened her hold on the blanket. He was a telegram operator. Of course he’d heard of them. They were probably going to be arrested and sent back to Amicae.

  “We are,” she said anyway.

  “Good! Er, well, not good in this case.” He glanced over his shoulder at the discussion outside, before sitting on one of the beds. “But I’ve got a message for you from Amicae.”

  “From Juliana?” Laura growled.

  “From a Mr. Byron Rhodes.”

  Laura looked up in confusion while Clarence dug through his pockets. He pulled out a scrap of paper with a message on it. “We got this two days ago and we’ve been passing it on to the ERA Sweepers as they go through. Ahem! ‘Regarding Kramer and Sinclair of Amicae Sweepers: No charges filed. Sweepers fired but wanted home. Return alive and unharmed. Framed.’”

  Laura stared at him, uncomprehending. Wanted home. Fired. Framed?

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The first telegram that went out for your arrest was unauthorized,” said Clarence. “As far as we can tell, anyway. Your head Sweeper ordered it, but a message like that should go through the police department first, so it goes to the right destinations. This Sweeper lady just sent it out everywhere she could. It must’ve cost her a fortune! According to this one, sent via your police, the order for your arrest is withdrawn. They want to make sure you don’t get hurt on the way back. Cities really value their Sweepers, and maybe you’re not employed as such anymore, but you did them a great service. They’re not about to forget that.”

  “But why would they withdraw our arrest?” Laura pressed.

  “It says here you were framed, right? So they figured it out and dropped the charges.”

  But Juliana had been dead set on them taking the fall. Lester said she wouldn’t give up, and Laura couldn’t picture her doing so either. Had Byron revealed what he knew? Had someone else come forward? Could this be a trap of some kind?

  Okane looked just as confused as she felt. “Seriously?”

  “You two are free to go home now. In fact, we’re obligated to get you on the next train.”

  “With Cherry?”

  “Oh, yes, I suppose so. If you’re not comfortable with it, you can ride in a separate car. I think that might even be better. I’m not sure if it’s the grief, or—” He chuckled uneasily. “She keeps acting as if that dead Ranger will sit up and join the conversation.”

  Clarence babbled something about denial. He talked to them a while longer, a brief, clipped kind of conversation, but Laura was thinking.

  Most of her security and support network had been ruined in the past few weeks. She had no job to return to, an actively hostile reception waiting for her, and an ex-boss determined to shut her and Okane up for good. But she refused to give up now. She’d infiltrated and escaped Rex, she had all the Gin and the Sinclairs in tow, and she knew where all the pieces connected now. She just needed to contact Byron and Albright, and get the truth out. If she could kick Juliana out of Amicae, then she could finally count this a victory.

  21

  HOMECOMING

  The train arrived at exactly 2:06 in the morning. Clarence woke them all shortly beforehand and ushered them onto the walkways outside. Laura shivered in her borrowed coat and watched as a train came in from the west, its lights shining bright enough to be seen miles away. It moved much slower than the trains she was used to, but then again it was coming for them.

  “This is the last scheduled train from Litus,” said Clarence, rubbing at his eyes under the glasses. “From here on, the railways are trying to cut off whatever trade Rex could steal.”

  “What happens to Litus, then?” she asked.

  “Canis will trade with them by boat. It’s not exactly convenient, but there’s no chance of raids that way.”

  “Is this the same train that was going to Litus the day before yesterday?” asked Okane.

  “I think that one’s at the port for Cor right now.”

  Okane let out a shaky sigh, and Laura felt tempted to do the same. Facing Keya and Felix after their fiasco of a departure was the last thing she wanted to do.

  The train came to a stop halfway through the gatehouse. With a rattle the roof of a cargo car came apart, each half rising like a drawbridge to reveal the inside. Three baggage handlers stood amid a mess of luggage, peering up at them.

  “Hello there!” cried one, presumably the man in charge.

  “Good morning!” Clarence called back. “I hope you don’t mind if we lower everything down?”

  “That’s what we’re here for, sir!”

  The two guards edged over, carrying a roughly hewn coffin between them—kept on hand in case the very people carrying it fell in the line of duty—and inside it lay Grim. Clae rested in a similar box, Anselm and the Gin in another. A crane machine jutted from the walkway, over the car. Clarence grabbed its cord, which ended in an odd harness, and they fitted the coffin into this. After a few test tugs they reeled it up so the box swung out into open air, then lowered it into the car. The baggage handlers caught and unhooked it before carrying it aside and coming back for the next. Soon all three coffins had been lowered this way, and the cord reeled back up. Clarence adjusted the harness, unclipping something here and reattaching it there, before presenting it to his audience.

  “This isn’t foolproof, but it’s a harness for you. Who wants to go first?”

  “I will,” said Laura.

  Clarence guided her in, tightening a strap at her chest and directing her feet into the thicker loop at the bottom. Once it was secure, they swung her out; she clutched at the cord above the harness and tried not to think of falling. Soon enough hands caught her sides, steadying her and pulling her in. One of the baggage handlers helped her toward the door.

  Okane and Cherry descended behind her, and the harness reeled up for the last time. The three waited in silence as the handlers shuffled around. The door to the forward car opened, and a woman in an ERA Sweeper uniform walked in. A beagle tugged at the leash in her hands.

  “Welcome aboard,” said the Sweeper. “We’ll be taking you to a specially prepared car shortly, but before that there’s a procedure we need to run through. It’s just a formality, so please don’t think badly of us.”

  “What kind of procedure?” said Cherry. While her eyes still looked red, her tone had gone from the rasp to her usual authority.

  “This dog is trained to sniff out any infestations and empty amulets. We need her to check you for any threats.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” Laura forced out.

  Neither of the others objected, so the Sweeper loosened her grip on the leash. The dog bounded up and started sniffing. Laura jumped as its wet nose brushed her hand, but it didn’t stay interested in her for long. It moved on to the others, snuffling about before returning to its owner.

  “I’ll also have to check the departed,” she said. “If they have any such amulets on them, they’ll need to be monitored or purified. Don’t worry, we won’t confiscate them indefinitely.”

  She led the dog over to the coffins. Laura held her breath—would it be trained to recognize Gin too, or, working with Sweepers, would it be too used to kin-related energy? It let the first two coffins alone, but on the last it became interested. The dog sniffed more, scratched the wood, and started whimpering. The Sweeper drew closer, frowning.

  “Open it up,” she ordered.

  The baggage handlers looked reluctant but didn’t argue. They pried the lid off, and the dog launched itself up to smell inside. Despite the dog’s enthusiasm the men turned away, looking ill; it was Grim’s coffin. The dog sniffed his face and hands.

  “Your dog isn’t trained as well as it should be,” said Cherry. She reached into Grim’s pocket and tossed a handful of stale caramels onto the floor. “I’ll give him credit for being able to smell those through a coffin, thoug
h.”

  The Sweeper colored in shame, reeling the dog in. “I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’d rather have the infestation check now than have one manifest in the middle of a train ride.” She glanced up at the baggage handlers and smiled sympathetically. “Let’s put that back on, shall we?”

  The men rushed to replace the lid.

  The Sweeper led them to a car near the back, a so-called mourning car. Compartments held coffins in place, while the rest of the car mimicked a dim parlor. A curtain could be pulled around specific sections for privacy. The baggage handlers transported the coffins safely into their slots before leaving. The Sweeper stayed a minute more.

  “We hope you’ll be comfortable in here. For the most part you’ll be undisturbed, though an ERA officer may come through during patrols. If you need anything at all, please approach the attendant in the cars ahead. Do you have any questions?”

  “None,” said Cherry. “Thanks for picking us up.”

  The Sweeper gave another short, embarrassed bow, and led her dog away. Once the door closed, Cherry heaved a long sigh and turned to the others.

  “Well, this has been a pretty shitty reunion, but I’m glad to see you two are doing okay!”

  “I—yes, yes, it’s been shitty.” Laura coughed out a laugh. “Sorry, but you’re acting a lot more upbeat than I expected.”

  “I thought I’d never find you!” Cherry leaned back against Grim’s coffin and rapped her knuckles against its side. “Hear that? You were right. They went straight to Zyra.”

  She keeps acting as if that dead Ranger will sit up and join the conversation. Laura had thought Clarence exaggerated that, but no, it proved uncomfortably true.

  “Were you looking for us?” she asked.

  “Of course.” Cherry crossed her arms. “After we got rejected at the gates, I looked for ways to get in. I wasn’t about to let you go alone against your boss if I could help it. But then we got word that something else had gone down, and that you’d left Amicae all over again. While I’d been trying to get inside, Grim gathered information from other Rangers, and he made the connection between your red Egg and Rex. I figure the girl who’d confront and scold a would-be captor would be just as eager to take on the enemy, so we caught the next train to Zyra. You must’ve caught your thieves before they even reached Rex!”

  “We actually went into the city,” said Okane.

  “You what?” Cherry stared at him. “No offense, but how in hell did you escape in one piece?”

  “Sheer dumb luck,” said Okane.

  Laura elbowed him. “We had help from a Rexian. She got us in and out safely. Of course, as soon as we got out of her sight, we went and got ourselves stuck in a river.”

  Cherry nodded. “And then we heard a city slicker honking their horn. And when Grim—” Her smile faltered. After a moment she murmured, “I really should’ve known. Rescue breaths. As if that would’ve worked on him.”

  “Did he have some sort of condition?” Laura asked hesitantly. “You mentioned he got hives before, but—”

  Cherry shook her head with a rueful smile. “Something like that. Something not like that. He’s always been a mystery. It’s strange, though. Whenever I considered him dying, I pictured him … falling apart, or just gone with the morning. This was very anticlimactic. Very human. I’m still not convinced it’s real.”

  “Did I hear - - - say he had family in Amicae?” said Okane.

  “That was a lie,” she replied. “As Rangers, we’re considered satellite citizens, so if cities go on lockdown we have no legal right to get inside. If, on the other hand, there’s a family tie inside the city, who are they to stop them from reuniting with the body and his poor, grieving widow?” She dabbed theatrically at her eyes. “I’ve seen bodies arrive by train before. A group of professional mourners carries the coffin wherever it needs to go, and let me tell you, no one interferes with professional mourners. If we leave Grim and your Gin with them, it’ll all be safe. With that confirmed, I’m free to escort you wherever you need to go.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Laura fretted.

  “Positive.”

  “But Grim—”

  Cherry’s expression grew serious. “Grim’s entire home got flattened by a Rexian attack. He was the only survivor. He never liked to show much, but I knew him long enough to learn that Rex was the only thing he ever hated. If there’s potential for Rex to take down a city, he’d do anything to prevent it. He’d be in on this plan.”

  Laura and Okane glanced at each other. He tipped his head in meaning, and she agreed; to Cherry she said, “We’d love to have your help.”

  * * *

  It took two full days to reach Amicae. The train sped through flatlands, crossed a bridge over a mighty river ten times bigger than the one they’d gotten stuck in, rounded the mountains, and steamed on toward the eastern coast. Few distractions reached the mourning car, and they could only go over their stories so many times before Laura went crazy. She spent most of her time sleeping on the second day, and had to be woken when they finally arrived.

  “Laura? Laura, we’re here. - - -’ve got to wake up. Please?”

  Laura grumbled and blinked her eyes open. “What?”

  Okane looked relieved. “We’ve reached Amicae. We’ve actually been here a while, but - - - slept pretty deeply.”

  “It’s only a matter of time until they unload us,” said Cherry, checking through her bag. “All the other passengers have already disembarked.”

  Laura straightened to peer out the window. All she saw was a brick wall.

  “Are we in the depot?”

  “Makes it easier for priests to reach us,” said Cherry.

  The compartment door opened, and Laura leapt to her feet.

  “Your transportation is ready,” said an attendant. “Are you prepared to disembark?”

  “We are,” said Cherry.

  The attendant nodded and drew back. In came several men dressed in black. They gravitated to the coffins.

  “Are these two together?” asked the man who had to be the lead mourner. It took a moment for Laura to take in the white overcoat, and another to recognize the man.

  “Mateo?”

  Mateo gave a short, surprised laugh. “I didn’t expect you to remember me. Yes, I’m Weaver Mateo, from the Three Child Church. Thank you for your service to our parish. I haven’t forgotten how you helped us.” He finished this off by bowing.

  “It’s no problem!” Laura said quickly. “I’m just glad they’re okay.”

  Mateo straightened. He gave the coffins a sad look. “I don’t want to weigh you further at this time, but … I’ve been following your story since Underyear, and read all of the recent news articles. Is one of these meant to represent Lester MacDanel?”

  “No,” said Laura. “These are—”

  “Brave Rangers who died to return Amicae’s magic,” Cherry butted in.

  “Then the Sweepers’ magic really was stolen?” said Mateo. “But—Ra. Please forgive me. My attitude is very unprofessional and insensitive—”

  “You’re fine,” said Laura.

  “I’d actually be interested in hearing what’s gone on while we were gone,” Okane said carefully. “- - - said - - -’ve been keeping up with the papers?”

  “Yes?” said Mateo.

  “What exactly did they say about Lester MacDanel?”

  Mateo glanced between the two of them, uncertain, but said, “A Sweeper building was attacked last week. It was reportedly an act of the mobs, and they left an infestation on-site that Juliana MacDanel destroyed before law enforcement arrived. The story is that you were bitter over the loss of your title, and collaborated with the Mad Dogs to give them the magic and to be rid of the head Sweeper, with the infestation meant to cover your trail. Lester MacDanel was reported killed by this infestation. The Mad Dogs have, of course, denied involvement. They’ve tried to defame MacDanel’s testimony. They seem
to think she sold you to Rex for some reason.”

  “For some reason,” Okane muttered darkly.

  “They’re rather vehement about the subject,” said Mateo. “It’s been the Dead Ringer’s headline for days.”

  The Mad Dogs must’ve remembered the Rexian Sweeper’s demands and finally put two and two together. If only they’d stopped Theron before all of this happened …

  “They’re not completely right, but they’re on the right track,” said Laura. “We’re not the ones who stole the magic. We’re the ones who brought it back.”

  She spoke with all the authority she could muster, and it worked. Mateo showed no signs of doubting her. Instead, he said, “I’ll accompany you.”

  Laura’s bravado deflated. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “It’s dangerous for you out there, if anyone recognizes you,” said Mateo. “I may not be able to do much, but the presence of a priest tends to make people think twice before making a scene. There are other priests here to help mourn. Let me speak with them first.”

  He hurried away.

  “We’re building an entourage,” Okane muttered.

  “It’s a good thing,” said Cherry, patting their shoulders. “Remember what I said? No one messes with a professional mourner. Not Rangers, not mobsters, not anyone.”

  Speaking with the priests took very little time, and soon Mateo returned to their side. Multiple teams of mourners took up the coffins and carried them out, and the Sweepers followed. The depot was crowded, but a hush fell over those nearby as the coffins passed. Soon the mourners had vanished through the depot’s side doors. Laura took a deep breath of depot air: steam, grease, cigarettes, and spice from the food carts. It was by no means pristine or orderly, nothing like Rex. It smelled like honest chaos. It smelled safe. It smelled like home.

  “What are we doing from here?” said Okane.

  “Taking back Amicae,” said Laura. “Let’s get Juliana out of here.”