The Monstrous Citadel
Page 43
She ignored his shudder. “So we will die here, then. It’s better than being assigned to the breeding section.”
She stirred the contents of her rations, as if such casual mention of her own demise was perfectly normal. But she was a Rex Sweeper. Of course it was normal.
1100106 stood and left the fire to deposit the tin in the food wagon for reuse. Every camp went up on the same layout, so his feet knew where to go even while his head spun. He hadn’t thought much of it, pointing Zelda and her companions toward the Wrath of God. So what if they succeeded? Maybe then Rex would see reason. Maybe they’d stay put, not be pigs led to slaughter in a hopeless crusade. But the city remained stubborn as ever, and here they were. If he hadn’t helped Zelda, would they be faring better? Would they have lost members at all? If it could just save 1100128 …
“Ivo!”
He paused. His hand went for his blade on instinct but he knew this wasn’t an infestation. Monsters couldn’t talk, and they certainly didn’t wear high-end Rexian fashion. Said arm poked around a tree trunk a ways from the campsite, only close enough to be glimpsed in the firelight. After casting around for witnesses, he slinked closer.
“Zelda? What are - - - doing here?”
She simply waved faster, beckoning him in before hauling him back among the trees. She looked rather the worse for wear, clothes torn and spattered with mud, hair hopelessly tangled under a hat he was sure she’d normally not be caught dead in.
“It took forever to find this troop,” she griped. “I followed two others before finding out I was in the wrong spot. Couldn’t have left me a trail or something, Ivo?”
“That isn’t my name. I am—”
“For the last goddamn time, I’m not calling anyone by a number. - - -’re Ivo, so deal with it. Really, - - - ought to be pleased. I did a lot of research on that! Apparently it’s the name of some Old Zyran king. Ivo the Tempest!”
1100106 rubbed at his eyes. “Why are - - - here in the first place? I’ve never seen - - - outside the city. It’s dangerous out here.”
“No kidding.” She sent a scathing glare at the fire. “How many dead so far?”
He thought of gray eyes, of the eleven-year-old. He rubbed at his temples, overwhelmingly tired. “In this group, twelve. Don’t add to the count.”
“I’m careful,” said Zelda. “I may be ‘a dud,’ but I’ve got just as much Magi blood as anyone else on this crusade. I’m just here to make sure my favorite Sweeper doesn’t join them.”
“Really? The stray I know is no fighter.”
And Zelda wasn’t—she couldn’t take so much as a scratch without complaint—but her expression held all the gravity of a veteran’s as she said, “I’ve come to take - - - away.”
He laughed. As soon as the sound was out he snapped his mouth shut. Hopefully the camp hadn’t heard that.
Zelda snickered. “That was enthusiastic.”
“Don’t joke about this,” he snapped. “Go back to Rex. Disappearing acts don’t work on kaibutsu or felin.”
“But they work on Rexians.” He turned to leave, shaking his head, but she blocked his path. “Come on. Just follow me. They’ll never find us.”
He tried once, twice, to get around her but Zelda was determined. He stopped and scowled. “What do - - - want from me?”
“I want to take - - - away from Rex.”
“Let’s pretend for a moment that happens. Where exactly would we go?” He pointed at the number under his eye. “We are marked enemies to every other city. The only place we could possibly go is the wilds, and that’s obviously not been hospitable.”
“We go to Amicae.”
Ah, Amicae. The friendly city. Rumor had it that if you ran from something, the best place to go was Amicae with its rabble Quarter and open arms. Of course, that usually got mentioned in conjunction with Thrax’s lenient policies, and seeing as how the latter was most definitely a ruin, the ideas must be very outdated.
“Didn’t Rex just break in and steal their Gin?” he said. “They won’t be forgiving if another set of Rexians turn up on their doorstep.”
“Normally yes, but I’m the one who helped them get that Gin and break out of Rex. They already asked me to go to Amicae with them. They said they’d give me protection.”
“That doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
“If they’re protecting me, what’s the big deal if we add just one more to the mix?”
“A big deal, considering—”
“If informants can move their entire families to keep Rex from catching them, I should qualify too. Who’s to know if - - -’re my brother or not?”
He leveled his flattest glare at her, but he didn’t quite feel it. The possibility of escaping Rex had always hung high out of reach. A pipe dream. He quashed it down every time it cropped up, denying it any chance to take root. He’d seen others consider it before. He’d seen those same others snatched up from the ranks, never to be seen or heard of again. Zelda often claimed those traitors were melted down into rations; maybe it had been a joke, but her expression always made him queasy. In the middle of the city, capture was an ever-looming threat. But here? Realization dawned. There was no Black Guard, no higher authority watching their every move. The only king here was the hive mind. Sweepers vanished on all sides without a trace. The handler would note their absence, but what clue would an infestation leave behind? There would be no search party. No one would care.
“Now is the best chance,” said Zelda. “In the dark of the night, where infestations are at their worst and all the monsters come out to hunt. No one need ever know.”
“Surely - - - aren’t considering this?”
He jumped. Zelda bit back a curse. 1100128 stood just outside the trees. She frowned at Zelda before turning her gaze on him.
“Desertion is treachery. Rex will hunt - - -.”
“Will - - - be the one hunting?” he asked.
Her lips pursed.
Zelda smoothed down her dress, pretending she hadn’t been scared. “Of course she will be. Silly little queen bee and her absolute loyalty. She’d do anything the handler asks.”
“I have no wish to fight against my brother,” said 1100128, ignoring her completely. “Come back to the fire.”
1100106 took in the huddle of Sweepers and slowly shook his head. 1100128 made a strangled sound and stepped closer, arm outstretched.
“106. Please.”
His head moved faster as determination swelled in his chest. Now was the time. He couldn’t meet her eyes but hell if he was going back.
“We said that we would die here. If that’s the case, I’d rather die alone in the wilds than under a force that treats us as dogs.”
“Then it’s settled.” Zelda’s expression was smug. “Come along, Ivo. We’ve got quite a distance to cover. Do us a favor and wait a few minutes before reporting to - - -r owners, 128.”
She spun on her heel and marched into the darkness. 1100106 made to follow.
“106,” 1100128 said desperately.
He didn’t look at her. “I refuse to stay if I have a choice otherwise.”
“Is it a wise choice, though?” 1100128 trailed several feet behind him. “How is this not a fool’s errand?”
“It is.”
“And yet—”
“Call me a fool and be done with it,” he snapped.
There was a beat of silence.
“As if one could make it all the way to Terual without dying,” 1100128 grumbled. Before he knew it she was at his side as if hunting infestations again. She pulled the standard gun from her holster and checked the bullets, feigning nonchalance (terribly) as she continued, “Even Rex knows to have someone watching their backs.”
“We’re not taking her,” said Zelda.
1100128’s eyes shifted back to him. He’d opened his mouth to argue too, but something in her expression made him pause. He’d known her long enough not to be surprised when the odd emotion shone through, but he couldn’t re
member ever seeing this one. It reminded him of a lost Rexian boy on the main circuit, eyes flicking wildly for his mother but mouth clamped shut in fear.
“She has a point,” he said instead.
“What?”
“It will be useful to have another fighter along in Kuro no Oukoku.”
Zelda glowered. “This has to be a joke.”
“If we wish to arrive in Amicae in one piece, this is a good option.”
“I’m not wasting my ‘plus one’ on her of all people!”
“But it’s not limited to one. If agents can take families, Amicae can accept her. Who knows if she’s - - -r sister or not? Breeding program.”
“I am as much a believable candidate as 106,” 1100128 agreed.
Zelda scowled. “Really? Is this really happening?”
“Moaning like that will draw attention even with your ability,” said 1100128.
A quick check showed that none of the other Sweepers noted their absence, but he didn’t want to push his luck. “We’d best be off now.”
Zelda looked tempted to argue but kept her mouth shut. If 1100128 kept him motivated to leave it must not be worth confronting. She stalked into the wilds instead.
“Hurry it up, then.”
They jogged after her. A wobbly smile broke over 1100106’s face; happiness or adrenaline, he didn’t know which. He cast the ration tin aside as they rounded a curve in the deer path. Maybe, some childish thought whispered, if he squinted hard enough he could see the friendly city on the horizon.
In their wake, shadows shifted. The ration tin skimmed slowly left, then right, before dipping down as if into water. An inky black arm rose up, grasped a tree branch, and heaved up the bulk to hang. It shuddered. A crimson eye opened in the very middle, pupil a thin slit.
Sweepers, it decided. Even if they weren’t currently slinging around bombs of light, that metal scrap tasted like King Sweepers. Don’t they ever tire of being annoying? It would tolerate them in its territory up to a point, normally. The Sweepers were generally useless but they brought the others with them: the loud ones, the gossipers. It loved gossipers. Their noise let it cut noise on other fronts.
“We have created a weapon, but it has a drawback,” they would say, and this information it would feed to its children, who would use the knowledge mercilessly. This time the gossipers had something better. “The Wrath of God will be the hive’s downfall.” Foolish. We are the dark, the quiet. We are the natural state of the world. The light and noise will crumble under us. “Amicae’s Wrath of God.” And that made it pause. Amicae. North. Yes. Children whispered of the cities. It knew the cities. Amicae was the one that gave it pause. Wrath. It remembered wrath. Fear. So many children. All together. All gone, so suddenly it could barely hear them scream. All it had sensed was a great anger, and then nothingness. Never before had it known fear. Wrath of Amicae. Wrath of God. Killer of the dark. The killer was walking among these King Sweepers? Coming into its territory?
The hive mind shuddered, let go of the branch and seeped back into the shadows, eye winking out. Even then it shook. The wrath is coming? Here? Here? After my children, after me? Where? It had sensed nothing from the children here. Show me. Where is it? Wrath? Where?
Far away, a child opened its eye. The hive mind looked through it to the sight beyond: a six-tiered city in the shadow of a mountain, shimmering in the dark of near-midnight. Not this one. The eye closed. Another opened. Boarded walls, hanging lights, the surroundings scored by battle and humans clamoring down the tunnel. Glass scattered over an earth floor soaked in the gold light of Sweepers. The kin was long absorbed but thrummed with that detestable feeling. The furthest from calm. The worst the hive could think of.
Where is this?
It is Amicae, the child replied. The un-dark of Amicae, the under, the human amulet quiet until now until the King Sweepers came and the Sinclairs arrived with noise and anger. It is loud. It is detestable.
“We had an advantage.” “Will we die here without that advantage?”
The King Sweepers had known even when the gossipers didn’t. The wrath was not here. It was still north. North where these Sweepers were going. But if they had their way the wrath would come back with them, come to stamp out the dark, kill the hive. This could not be permitted.
The hive mind slid along the deer path, moving between shadows seamlessly.
They will lead me to it. I will take my time. I will move to the island with them, as my children crossed before. I will find the wrath. I will destroy it before it destroys me.
Then all will be quiet.
ALSO BY MIRAH BOLENDER
City of Broken Magic
Praise for City of Broken Magic
“This debut builds a fascinating setting that readers will want to keep coming back to.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“A fascinating debut … Readers will be antsy for the next installment.”
—Library Journal
“With complex characters, political intrigue, and discussion of feminism and the caste system … readers will enjoy City of Broken Magic and its fresh spin on the fantasy genre.”
—Booklist
“City of Broken Magic shines most brightly in the interactions between the three Sweepers, and fantasy fans will hope for more exploits in Amicae.”
—Shelf Awareness
“Incredible attention to detail.”
—BookPage
“Full of enough action and intrigue to keep you on the edge of your seat all night long.”
—The Arched Doorway
“Fantasy fans will hope for more exploits in Amicae.”
—Infinite Reads
“Terrifying shadow monsters haunt a vividly rendered working-class present with the sins of generations past. A thrilling ride, with promise of deeper mysteries to come.”
—Max Gladstone, Hugo Award finalist
“City of Broken Magic explores what happens after the familiar heroes have gone, and the importance of those who remain to begin again.”
—Fran Wilde, Hugo and Nebula finalist, award-winning author of the Bone Universe series
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MIRAH BOLENDER graduated with majors in creative writing and art in May 2014. A lifelong traveler, she has journeyed and studied overseas, most notably in Japan, and these experiences leak into her work. She currently lives in St. Paul, Minnesota. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Map
1. Backlash
2. Fools, Wary
3. The Sundown Showdown
4. Executrix
5. The Key Keeper
6. Chimney Smoking
7. Winter Jamboree
8. An Underyear Nightmare
9. Watcher
10. Warning
11. Breaking Point
12. The Wild Things
13. Fly Fleetly
14. Fell Beast
15. Sellout
16. Catch him on the Run
17. Ditch Time
18. Treasure in the Labyrinth
19. Bad Road
20. Valens
21. Homecoming
22. Approaching Darkness
23. Juggernaut
24. Jailbirds Fly
Also by Mirah Bolender
Praise for City of Broken Magic
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events
portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THE MONSTROUS CITADEL
Copyright © 2019 by Mirah Bolender
All rights reserved.
Edited by Jen Gunnels
Cover art by Tony Mauro
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates
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New York, NY 10271
www.tor-forge.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC.
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-16929-7 (trade paperback)
ISBN 978-1-250-16928-0 (ebook)
eISBN 9781250169280
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First Edition: November 2019