The Sunken City Trilogy

by Phil Williams

  12

  With no one coming closer, Pax took a step forward herself. The entire population of Ordshaw’s fairy community were hanging there, countless eyes analysing her. They could speak loud enough to be heard by humans; there must be a hell of a din in here when they all got talking. Wrong time to wonder. She took another step forward and handfuls of Fae moved for the edges of buildings, ducking behind cover. The more stubborn ones, the vast majority, held their ground – their air. Pax spoke in what she hoped was a calm voice, “You see who I’ve got here? I know you know her.”

  “We know you,” an aggressive male snapped, and a dozen or more agreed.

  “I . . .” Pax stopped. It was an audience like she’d never imagined, like being on a stage at a great concert hall. And they hated her, didn’t they? What was she thinking? Her skin tingled with the attention. What could she say that wouldn’t get her killed?

  The stirrings of a commotion drew her focus to one of the taller towers at the perimeter, where hovering fairies parted with noises of disapproval. A bulky fairy emerged from the crowd, her fine regal clothing out of time and place. She flew weightlessly, despite her round, bee-like proportions, and behind her came a trail of black-armoured soldier fairies, armed with batons and rifles. The governor and her retinue. She commanded, boldly, “Into the light, woman.”

  Pax did as she was told, approaching the outer glow of the Fae city. Drawing nearer, she saw the floating fairies were as varied as a cross-section of society anywhere in the world, from labouring overalls to suits, through to casual jeans and shirts, flat-caps – one in what looked like medical scrubs. Fat and slim, round and jagged, long flowing hair, unfortunate bald spots, moustaches, everything. Their skin colours, too, were as cosmopolitan as Ordshaw’s more ethnic neighbourhoods: the darkest-skinned Fae were almost black, the lightest definitely anaemic. The only uniform thing was their ages: almost all young adults; no children, very few over forty or so. Did they not age?

  And this vast crowd showed equal wonder for Pax. Questioning, curious looks, and fearful, disgusted stares. Of them all, their leader looked least impressed.

  “Pax Kuranes,” Valoria snorted. “Devourer of fairies. Murderer of men.”

  “Sixty-eighth best poker player in the world,” Pax added for herself.

  The responses were too quiet to hear, but were likely shocked remarks: did you hear her speak?! The memory of her first meeting with Lightgate came to mind, an unimpressed comment: why is she talking about cards? Cautiously, Pax held the jar a little higher. “I’ve brought Lightgate.”

  It chilled the crowd into silence, and Pax doubted her strategy. What if they didn’t hate Lightgate as much as she’d been led to believe? Then she was just a human with a bloody Fae body in a jar. “Palleday messaged ahead. To let you know I was coming?”

  That helped, murmurs of recognition for Palleday’s name. But he hadn’t done much to pave the way. Pax came another step closer, now barely two metres from the edge of the city, and the wall of fairies darted back an inch in fear, focused on the jar. It was Lightgate, more than her, that they were scared of.

  “Stop,” Valoria commanded. “Place the jar on the floor.” To her guards, she added, “Keep her in your sights at all times.”

  “Got her,” her closest bodyguard replied, for the purposes of the crowd. He had a rifle aimed at Pax’s face. The handful of men around him aimed variously at her and at the jar in her hands.

  “She’s dead,” Pax said, slowly crouching to put the jar down. She kept her hands on it, as though the body might yet break free and kill them all. “It was an accident, kind of. She tried to kill me. And everyone else.” Pax stood back from the jar, carefully, as two soldiers swooped down to inspect it. “You know she was planning an uprising?”

  A further flurry of concerned noises, but Valoria said, “And you kept her company.”

  “You call stopping a maniac keeping company?” Pax replied. The indignity of being addressed by an unreasonable woman trumped the anxiety of being watched. “More than you managed to do, wasn’t it?”

  Valoria replied curtly, “And we should be pleased, not concerned, to see one of our most notorious criminals dead at the hands of a human?”

  “With Fae help,” Pax said. “One of your own gave his life for it, another’s clinging to his. And we trashed half a dozen of Palleday’s best towers to trap her. I’m not some Fae-hunter extraordinaire, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  Again, Palleday’s name impressed a few people, a detail Valoria was quick to move on from. “Then what are you? You, aligned with Letty, a criminal no different to the one you have brought us.”

  “Yeah? Did Letty scourge any gritty plateaus?”

  That impressed the crowd, too; another point for knowing something of their culture. Over their surprised comments, Valoria said, “Letty killed humans –”

  “The ones Lightgate shot, you mean?” Pax lifted a foot to prod the jar, making the two nearby soldiers fly nervously back.

  “And she’s rallied exiles,” Valoria went on, undeterred. “Disrupted our –”

  “Again,” Pax interrupted, “Lightgate’s right here. Is there anything you’re laying on Letty that wasn’t her doing?”

  Valoria went quiet. Despite her demeanour of intense distrust, the crowd was siding with Pax:

  “Just like Letty said!”

  “The Scourge was behind this!”

  They were finally questioning the reality that their council had presented.

  Pax rocked the jar under her shoe, demonstratively, and said, “She thought you should all be fighting. Against us, against each other. Letty tried to stop her before. I’m hoping, now, I actually did stop whatever army she’s been mustering. I don’t know where they are, but they’ll disband without her, won’t they?”

  Valoria’s closest guard leant in to confer with her. She flapped him away irritably, a you think I don’t know that! dismissal.

  Pax continued, “Edwing, God rest him – Lightgate killed him because he believed in peace. And obviously she didn’t want you to trust me or Letty, hence how it all looks. But I just want to see Ordshaw safe. For all of us. Thanks to the Fae that talked to me, we’ve got some idea of the real source of all our problems.”

  “Whatever you bring,” Valoria said, “Letty has shown her true colours today.” For the crowd’s sake, she added, “Forcing her way into the Council. Holding us at gunpoint.”

  Pax turned to the closest fairies, gathered around head height. A woman in a pantsuit, not dissimilar to a Ministry worker; a man in a checked shirt, with a beard. “You know all she wanted was to take back your home? She got desperate. Where is she?”

  “Awaiting trial,” checked shirt responded. “For . . . them things you said Lightgate did.”

  “For everything!” Valoria corrected. “For the –”

  “Great, so I can help clear the air. Is she in your cages? Take me to her.” Pax stood taller than she felt. With so many people watching, there were a lot of guns out there, but they needed to see her confidence. “If we co-operate, talk to one another, I know we can reach an understanding. Not just here, with my government, too.” She gave Valoria a look, to make her point clear. “You want that, don’t you?”

  Valoria’s face was a picture of malice.

  “Would you rather bring Letty out here? I can wait.”

  “Once sealed,” Valoria’s gruff bodyguard answered, “the cages may not be opened until judgement is passed.”

  “That sounds dogmatic as shit,” Pax told him.

  “It is the way of our people,” Valoria snarled. “You know nothing, and are –”

  “Willing to learn,” Pax said. “If you’re finally willing to talk.”

  Valoria didn’t respond at once, bubbling with resistance. But it was clear the crowd wanted answers. She said, “Very well. We will try these criminals together. To the cages.”

  Pax gave her a sweet smile. “You got one big enough for me?”

>   The fire alarm was screaming as Casaria leapt down the steps of Westlane Station, the arse end of the K&S Underground. Probably wouldn’t have been anyone here anyway. But it had been cleared out, giving him a clear run at the monster lumbering in. Landon huffed along behind him, calling for Casaria to slow down. Fuck him. Casaria skidded around a corner and along the final tunnel, breaking out onto the platform.

  There it was. The stocky humanoid beast, lines glowing between the panels of its carapace, pincer limb twitching over its shoulder. Right there on the platform, where on another day there might be twenty people waiting for a train into town. Its clawed feet crunched against the tile floor.

  Casaria fired, catching its stomach and dropping the creature to a knee. It reared a horrific face towards him, glowing eyes screwing narrower in fury, and it coiled to charge. He fired again, one shot, between the eyes, flinging it back to the tiles.

  Landon came panting to his side, pistol ready. As Casaria steadied himself, checking the rest of the platform and the shadows beyond, the overweight agent frowned at the body. “On the platform? If there’d been people –”

  “Get on your bloody radio already,” Casaria said. “Where’s the next one?”

  “Westlane’s secure,” the Support tech announced, to the relief of the office. “And Agents Vinton and Bolton have arrived at Lyle Park.”

  “Tell them to move faster,” Obrington said, readjusting a gun holster. He was the last agent not already out in the field. Not including Sam. She had training, she should be down there. Reading her look, he told her, “You’re staying put. Someone’s got to co-ordinate this shitshow.”

  The readings were clear. Though still vaguely encircling a central point where the praelucente was, the creatures were spread across as much as a mile’s radius now. It was questionable that their small group of Operations agents could contain it. Arming the civilians and support technicians would be futile and reckless, but with every passing minute their targets moved further apart. Casaria and Landon were under Ripton, another team outside Central, one more moving down from Ten Gardens; no one covering Nothicker or Farling, yet. The praelucente itself had reached the outskirts of New Thornton.

  As Obrington prepared to join the fray, Sam helped him into something like a bulletproof vest, which likely defended against more than bullets. He gave her sharp instructions: “You’ve got charges set up in some of these tunnels; if it looks to be going south, blow them. And it might be barmy to send any of the rest of you down there, but better we swing bad punches than none at all.”

  He indicated the civilians as he said that, and stalked off towards their rear door. So it wasn’t just her thinking it. Barton and Rufaizu were watching, one grimly ready and the other itching to join the fight. Holly, behind them, looked horrified. Sam hurried to them, to offer reassurances. Barton spoke first: “This is everything I expected from your Ministry. Heavy-handed goons fumbling over distractions, while the screens go to ground. The years they spent hidden, you think they haven’t got out already?”

  Sam gave him a stern look. She wasn’t sure it was fair to call her agents heavy-handed, nor the monsters distractions. It would be hell for Ordshaw if just one of those creatures broke free, and so far they’d prevented that. She said, “We’re doing all we can. And if they could disappear that easily, would they need a distraction?”

  “It’ll take days before you cull even part of the horde,” Barton replied. “A good portion of them will have reproduced by then, you know? Assuming the screens don’t generate more themselves. In that time –”

  “In that time, Pax will come back,” Sam said, firmly. “And we’ll be ready.” Except there was no one in the office not fully occupied. She fixed on Holly. “I hate to ask, but –”

  “I’ll go wherever I’m needed,” Holly said, giving her husband a look that said yes, he would join her. Rufaizu sprang up, too, ready for action.

  “I need someone at the FTC,” Sam told them. “Not within their perimeter, but close enough that if Pax gets out, if she can get the Dispenser, then . . .” She hesitated, looking across the room to the table of guns. Half-empty now, and none of it proven to hurt the praelucente. “We’re spread thin. We need all the help we can get.”

  “I’ll take care of her,” Barton said.

  “We all will,” Holly corrected.

  13

  Pax tried to focus on the positives, such as witnessing a marvel of a society that no other human had set eyes on, rather than the creeping sense of disquiet at being the centre of attention for an entire city. Bloody Gulliver, I am. An explorer, admiring a miniature apartment, chrome-framed windows, modern furniture a fraction of the expected size. Tiny steps on metal fire escapes. Tiny posters advertising . . . toothpaste? Faces of Fae celebrities? And delicate little pipes and lights; even the amenities a marvel. The thousands of faces following her weren’t creepy, they were . . . well, not cute, but interesting. Surely?

  The guards led her around the side of the city, instructing her to follow slowly, no sudden movements, and she trod carefully, the Fae population floating with the single-mindedness of a school of fish. She rounded the corner of the city to see it stretching back with the variety of any metropolis. A glowing vertical sign read CINEXPRESS. A tiny cinema? An architectural feat even stranger stood to the left, separate from the main city and enclosed in fencing so fine it looked like a net. Four buildings the size and shape of upturned bathtubs. No prizes for guessing that was where the Fae magic happened. Pax’s fingers tingled as she focused on the buildings. Was there a blue screen in there? That would be a satisfying reveal – toss back a building and announce, “Ah ha!”

  She edged along the city, glancing at the vats, trying to unravel exactly what she felt. A disquiet, blurring her senses the same way the dust itself had.

  “Pax!” Letty’s voice drew her attention away, and she almost hit one of the Fae towers as she turned. Shouts of anger met her, a dozen Fae flying near her head, guns out. Pax threw up her hands, taking a step back, and got more shouts. Her shoe had almost hit the vats’ fencing. Letty yelled from between the buildings, deep in the maze of towers, “You great bloody loon! Out of your mind coming here!”

  Despite the insults, Letty sounded absolutely delighted, and as Pax peered through the crowd to see her suspended cage, her heart lifted too. “I couldn’t leave you hanging.”

  “You’ve got answers, right?” Letty shouted. “You gaggle of pricks, she’s gonna change everything!”

  As the Fae between them parted, creating a channel, Pax carefully repositioned herself, getting as close as she could without touching anything. More wary now than ever that everyone was watching her. “Thanks, Letty, no pressure . . .”

  “So what is it? The Ministry figured out these monsters? Agreed to clear out the tunnels and let us down there? How are we going to fuck that Blue Angel?”

  The crowd were quiet, with confused exchanges being shushed by those eager to know how, indeed, Pax was going to change their world. Valoria settled on a rooftop close to Pax’s head, with her entourage of suited Fae and soldiers. Beyond them, back over the centre of the city, a pair of Fae carried Lightgate’s jar. They placed it on another rooftop, near the cages, and quickly retreated.

  “I had a solution,” Pax said, deliberating, “but it’s a little complicated.” Suddenly, the suggestion that she use one of these people as bait for a monster seemed dangerous. “It involved keeping Lightgate alive, so . . .”

  “We’re not here to brainstorm your plans,” Valoria said. “You are being given the opportunity to defend your actions. Shall we start with the most recent? Why did you kill Edwing, one of our dearest and kindest statesmen?”

  Pax gave her a vicious look. “Why would I? Edwing and I were meeting to discuss how you wouldn’t let anyone talk with us humans.”

  Valoria scoffed, “You plot to destroy us –”

  “Never,” Pax said. “The Ministry didn’t, either. There was corruption within their manage
ment. The blue screens of the Sunken City, the ones that created the monsters, were responsible. Now we know, the Ministry want to settle things peacefully. But again, you won’t talk to them.”

  “Because the word of a human –”

  “They could’ve killed you, in return for the attack on Greek Street,” Pax said. “You took their weapons, you know what they could’ve done. But they withdrew. I persuaded them we might need each other. Only to have you insist we have nothing more to do with each other.”

  Silence followed. The majority of eyes were on Valoria instead of Pax.

  “All this is,” Valoria said, “is confirmation of how unstable and unreliable the Ministry is. We are right to demand boundaries.”

  “Boundaries, sure.” Pax glanced at the dust vats, concentrating on the feeling for what was in there. She wondered what she’d see, through the eyes of glo, or dust, looking into this city. Lightgate had lit up like a star; would this whole city sparkle? Would the blue of a screen show somewhere? No. She would sense that presence, for sure. That wasn’t it; this governor’s resistance wasn’t as simple as following the screen’s lies. And it was something more than vying to cement her power here. Pax thought out loud, “Obviously staying hidden from humans, and away from the Sunken City is important to you.”

  “Quite,” Valoria agreed, like she’d scored a point.

  “But it’s not like we couldn’t find ways to agree on it. You’re avoiding us for another reason. Are you that scared of the minotaur’s horde? Knowing how they go after your energy? Because I get the idea they’re scared of you.”

  “Trivial questions we discarded long ago,” Valoria sneered. “Our society is established, here, and that is not in question. You stand accused of murder, of the highest –”

  “No – stop,” Pax cut in. “I brought you Lightgate. I’ve told you she’s responsible. If you want everyone to believe I’m your enemy then you have to justify why. I want the screens gone – you have the means to defeat them. You want me to be your enemy – because if you avoid humans, you avoid the Sunken City – why?”