by Luke Arnold
39
The same duo of thugs drove me home: Yael, the Half-Elf, with her hands on the wheel, and Cyran, the Ogre, crammed in the back beside me.
Yael made no effort to hide the fact that she resented being told she had to talk to me.
“So,” I said, tiptoeing into the conversation like it was a live bear trap. “You were the first one to find the hijacked truck?”
“Yes.”
I waited for her to go on. She didn’t.
“What do you think happened?”
There was a mirror hanging from the roof right near the windscreen. In it, I could see her eyes. It looked like she might quit her job right then, step out the car, and never come back.
“Somebody put spikes on the road. Driver wouldn’t have seen them because there was a blind spot on the corner. Slashed all four tires. When the driver got out, she was shot in the chest with an arrow. Another in the head. Some equipment was stolen from the back of the truck. Documents too.”
“What kind of equipment?”
“That’s classified.”
“I’m working for Thurston now too.”
“So you say.”
Her eyes were locked on me through the mirror.
“Okay, I’m coming back in the morning. Talk with your boss and see if you’re allowed to tell me anything else. And do me a favor: draw up the scene to the best of your recollection – where you found the driver, direction of the vehicle. Stuff like that.”
She huffed, like I’d asked her to help me move house.
“Sure.”
“Thanks, Yael. You’re a real hero.”
I stepped out of the car right where they’d picked me up and as soon as I closed the door, they were off.
“Holy Moly!” Georgio was standing at the door of his café with a grin that stretched out to touch his ears. “What a ride, Fetch! Are you a big-money guy now?”
Georgio’s constant enthusiasm was equal amounts endearing and infuriating.
“Just another troublesome client, George. The only difference it’ll make is the quality of the knife they put in me when we’re done.”
I went inside and sat at my desk and tried to evaluate what kind of mess I was in. Why had Deamar delivered the murder weapon to my door? Was it just because I was already on the murder case or was there some connection I was missing?
Maybe I’d find my answers out on the road.
The road.
I thought back to my last trip outside the city. My blisters hadn’t healed and I still looked gaunt from the days without food. If it wasn’t Deamar who hijacked the truck, and there were bandits out there, then my transport could be destroyed the same way. If that happened, I didn’t think I could handle another week-long crawl back to Sunder City. Not on my own.
I needed some back-up.
Thurston had paid me handsomely. So much so, that I’d be able to pay for a little company. But I needed more than someone to talk to. A tracker would be good. Someone who could handle the snow. Tough, but smart. And someone who would keep their mouth shut if we found something important.
Oh no.
I took the newspaper clipping out of my pocket and flattened it out on my desk.
Linda Rosemary – Magical Investigator.
Unlocking What Was Lost.
40
The office of Linda Rosemary – Magical Investigator was over on Five Shadows Square. It got its name back in the pre-Coda because if you stood in the middle of the square at night, the five fire towers around the edge would illuminate you from every side. The businesses around the edge were a mixture of boutique jewelers, tailors and wine bars. I couldn’t imagine what kind of ruse Linda had pulled to get herself a piece of prime real estate so quickly.
She’d taken over an old florist and the signs on the window advertised a range of products that hadn’t been seen in years: ever-blooming bouquets and purse-protector fly-traps. Still, it was less of a lie than what Miss Rosemary was actually selling.
A bell over the door jangled as I entered. Linda Rosemary – Magical Investigator was seated at her desk, across from an emotional Reptilian woman. Linda looked at me like we’d never met before, and addressed me with the same lack of familiarity. It wasn’t the first time someone had wanted to pretend they didn’t know me while in the presence of others.
“Sorry, sir, do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
“Have a seat if you must. We’re almost done.”
I did as I was told. The old-lady-lizard had her head wrapped in a shawl. She’d been crying. Linda pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her noticeably unblemished new coat. She’d swapped her beret for a black fedora that was pinned into her dreadlocked hair.
“Sorry, Ms Tate. Please continue.”
Ms Tate dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief.
“That’s all of it really. I wasn’t so worried about my appearance but the pain is getting worse. Especially in the cold. Where the scales are gone my… flesh is so raw. I talked to the doctor but he just told me to cover it up. That’s fine for my body but I have to work. I just thought, maybe you knew of some way…”
She trailed off. Because how could you finish that sentence? Some way to bring the magic back? How could a Werecat in a fedora help her more than a doctor?
It was the same problem I’d seen Simms deal with for six years, and she hadn’t found any way to help herself other than to cover up her skin with as much clothing as possible. But Linda nodded like she had everything under control.
“I understand,” she said. “And I have some ideas about where to ask around. It might take a while and I’m not promising anything, but I’ll do my best to find a way to help.”
I laughed out loud. I didn’t mean to. Bitterness pushed it out. Linda looked over but the serpent kept her head down.
I kept quiet after that. Linda finished with her customer, helped her out the door then punched me in the shoulder.
“What kind of an asshole are you?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your grift.”
She punched me again.
“Come over to my desk, Mr Phillips. I like to be comfortable when I’m being insulted.”
We moved to the middle of the room and it was a topsy-turvy version of our last encounter. Last time, she’d had the last word and the upper hand. It was my turn to even the score.
Linda put her feet up on the desk. Her chair was nicer than mine. Everything about her office was nicer than mine. I tried to convince myself that it was because I was actually trying to help people and she was running a con.
“You’re really going to take her money?” I asked.
“If I can help her.”
“You can’t help her.”
“How do you know?”
“The same way you do. Because the magic is gone. It doesn’t matter how much bullshit and false hope you dangle in front of her, that ain’t going to change.”
She took that in, not letting herself get rattled.
“Listen. I haven’t always conducted myself in ways that I’m proud of. Our first meeting was regrettable. I was desperate. I was lost. I was still working out how to survive in this strange city. So do not think that you know me, Mr Phillips. In fact, you don’t understand anything.”
“You’re repeating yourself, Miss Rosemary. You said the same thing last time.”
“And you still aren’t listening. You look at us, the ones who once had magic in our hearts, and you think you know what we’re going through. But you have no idea what we feel. You think that our power was snuffed out? Like a candle? No.” She hammered on her chest, biting out her words. “It’s still in here. I can feel it.”
“I’m sorry. I—”
“Shut up! Just because you cannot see it, it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. This is my body and these are my people. You can roll your eyes and laugh as much as you like but I will work to make myself, and anyone who comes to me, whole again.”
There was n
o response to that. I nodded as politely as I could, then I dared to try to change the subject.
“Great office.”
“Thanks.”
“Mustn’t have come cheap.”
“No.” She took a deep breath and finally relaxed a little. “I found some traveling merchants who paid big money for the Unicorn horn. As long as they don’t come back this way, it should be fine.”
I was thankful for an excuse to laugh.
“So, what are you doing here, Phillips? Just come to steal my decorating ideas?”
“I need to leave town. Another case. I’m hesitant to go on my own.”
“I thought that was your whole MO.”
“Yeah, I’m even surprising myself. I’ll be leaving on a carriage first thing in the morning and, if you’re available, I’d like to hire your services.”
For an extortionate fee and mostly her own amusement, she agreed to come along. Her next client arrived: a Cyclops who was losing his vision. As I left, she was already soothing him with her soft, optimistic voice. I tried to tell myself that the gesture was important, even if her business was boloney. I didn’t quite believe it, but I was happy to argue with myself all the way home.
41
“I thought you said we were taking a carriage.”
“We are. Sort of.”
I’d headed back to the Niles compound early, expecting to find a horse and carriage being prepared for me. Instead, there was an automobile waiting in the driveway. Cyran gave me the basics on how to get it going. It was a simpler model than the one Yael had been driving but it was still a more comfortable ride than a saddleless horse or swollen feet. The fuel was the same kind of oil that Mortales shipped in from out of town to run the power plant. Cyran showed me how to open up the front of the vehicle and to pour it into the motor at regular intervals.
I’d stalled it a dozen times on the way over and put a big scrape down the side, but I was starting to get the hang of it.
Linda looked it over like it might bite.
“How far are we going?”
“Apparently only a couple of hours, so we should be back by nightfall if you ever get in the car.”
She gave me one of her trademark withering stares, squeezed into her seat and pulled a big bag onto her lap.
“What’s that smell?” I asked.
“Fresh bread. Some sardines…”
“You packed us lunch? I knew I asked the right woman.”
“Who said it was for you?”
I put the car in gear. Stalled it, twice. After twenty minutes we were on the open road.
I was fucking freezing. Yael’s car had a windscreen and a roof. This one had none of that. I tried not to make a big deal about it because Linda just put her sunglasses on and stared into the screaming wind like it was a summer breeze.
There was a trunk at the back of the car with a canister full of fuel. Every half an hour, I had to stop and fill it up. We were going south, and the flat peak of Sheertop Mountain could be seen in the distance.
“Isn’t that where the prison is?” asked Linda.
“Yeah. Right at the base. The walls were pure magic, though, so there’s not much of it left.”
“You’ve seen it?”
“Yeah, I was there when it all came down.”
She turned around in her seat and looked at me.
“Why?”
Oof. I’d said too much. Some people knew my history but Linda was new in town so I guess she hadn’t heard anything too juicy.
“Just a silly mistake. Check Yael’s paper for me, we can’t be far away.”
Fifteen minutes later we crossed a creek that Yael had referenced in her notes. A mile after that, the road curved around a rock formation and Linda told me to pull over.
“This should be the place.” The pile of rocks was on the right side of the road. On the left, there was an overgrown field. The asphalt road curved around the rocks, which is what helped the hijackers keep an element of surprise. “How about some lunch?”
Linda used a switchblade to slice the bread.
“That hasn’t been in anyone’s belly, has it?” I asked.
“Yeah, but I’ve cleaned it since.”
We covered the bread with sardines and pickled chilies, leaned against the car and ate in silence. Our heads turned in all directions, taking in the landscape and playing out possible scenarios. Still chewing, I kicked away some of the wet debris that lay thick across the road.
“You seen many roads like this up your way?” I asked.
“Never. All our roads are dirt or stone. This must be a southern thing.”
“A Sunder thing, I think. And only recently. There’s no real need for it unless you plan to drive vehicles like this one. Whoever is making these cars must have something to do with laying the roads too.”
“That has your boss written all over it, right?”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
There were tire marks across the asphalt. Something that looked like a burn where, I imagined, the metal spikes were dragged against the road.
“Let’s look at that picture.”
Yael’s drawing of the crime scene was half-assed but it told us a few key things. After hitting the spikes, the truck had spun around so that it was perpendicular to the road. The driver was found on the left of the truck, which put her on the northern side, facing down the highway towards Sunder.
Another drawing highlighted the injuries. Two arrows: one straight into her chest, the other all the way through her skull and coming out the other side.
“Where was the truck coming from?” asked Linda.
“South. That’s all they’d tell me.”
“What was it carrying?”
“They wouldn’t say.”
Her eyebrows told me I was an idiot.
“You sure they actually want you solving this mystery?”
“They want me to find Deamar. We just need to work out whether this hit was him or someone else.”
“Okay. Act it out.”
“What?”
“Step out of your invisible truck. Show me how it happened.”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
I took the drawing over to the skid marks. There were four black lines. The ones that finished farther north would be the front wheels, which would be right under the driver’s seat.
“So,” I said. “The truck spun around like this.”
“Do the sound effects.”
“Shut up. Then the driver gets out this side.”
“And she’s shot in the chest.”
“And the head.”
“But the chest first.”
“How do you know?”
“Look at your drawing, Fetch. If it’s accurate, then the arrow in the head went in much deeper. More power. Most likely, the chest hit took her down from a distance then the other one finished her off from up close.”
I’d picked the right partner.
“Okay, so she steps out and is hit in the chest.”
“But she’s not found by the door, is she?”
“No.”
“So, she wasn’t shot immediately. Where was she going?”
“Probably to check the tires or the cargo.”
“Show me.”
I walked along the side of my invisible truck.
“First of all,” said Linda, “we can cancel out half the landscape. The truck is blocking everything to the south. Now, if the shooter was directly north, they would have hit the driver in the side.”
“Unless the driver was walking away from the truck.”
“Why?”
“Uh… to admire the view?”
“Unlikely. My guess is that the shot came from the east or west. Face west for me.”
I did. I was looking at the rock formation.
“You think the attacker was hiding behind there?”
“Not unless he’s an idiot. It’s too close. What if they spotted the spikes and came searching? You can look in there if you want,
but I don’t think so.” She stepped back off the road. “Look east.”
I followed my orders and walked back alongside my imaginary truck, as if I was returning to the driver’s seat. Linda was right in front of me.
“On this angle, I can see straight down the road to the south. If I was camping out, waiting to see how my trap would affect an incoming car, I’d be somewhere,” she turned around, “in this direction.”
It was a wet, overgrown field of brown grass and puddles.
“I hope you brought your good boots,” I said.
“Don’t worry about me, city-slicker. You watch your own feet.”
Linda marched off into the mud.
We walked through the grass, side by side, about ten meters apart. The plan was to get past the point where an arrow could be fired from, spread out from each other, go back to the road, spread out again, and repeat till we stumbled upon… something.
“What are we looking for?” I called out. “An armchair and a telescope?”
“Maybe. If I was going to lie in wait for a car to come up this road, I’d want to be somewhere comfortable, well-hidden and out of the elements. It would be impossible to know exactly when a certain truck would arrive, so I’d want to feel safe.”
We went beyond the point where even a specialist Elven archer would be able to hit a target, and separated ourselves. I counted out the distance, turned and walked back towards the road.
“You said you saw this Deamar guy?”
“Yeah, twice.”
“And he looked Human?”
“As far as I could tell. That’s what the witnesses say, too.”
“You know what it means, don’t you?”
“What?”
“Deamar.”
I started to wish I hadn’t brought someone who liked making me feel so stupid.
“No,” I conceded.
“I guess you wouldn’t. It comes from one of those old stories that even most magic folk have forgotten, so I wouldn’t expect it to spread to your kind.” She lifted up a pile of weeds but didn’t find anything interesting. “At the beginning of creation, a piece of the river stepped out onto the surface of the world so that she could be a guardian to all the creatures. Deamar was her first son. He defied his mother by declaring war against the Humans. His desire was to wipe their entire species from the planet. To protect the Humans, the Creator banished Deamar to a dark place, under Archetellos, using the power of the river to keep him locked away.”