“Mandy, please,” Darren said. Grace whispered something to the doctor, trying to comfort her.
“Shut her up,” Rolarn said, “and sit down.”
“Rolarn,” Letty said, his name a warning on its own. She wasn’t on board with whatever these people had planned, and that meant Holly had to act. He had the bigger gun, and he was the bigger fairy by a long way. Holly was close. She could do something. No one expected it from her. Useless, uninvolved Holly.
“There’s no protection here!” Rimes cried out, suddenly. “Worms!”
Holly didn’t dare turn, no matter the rising madness in the doctor’s voice. Rolarn and Letty weren’t moving.
“Ah, ah, ah…” Rimes started shaking her head.
“Are all your human friends insane?” Rolarn demanded, with a sideways look at Letty.
“Must be,” Letty grumbled back, “trusting me.”
“Ah ah ah!”
“Shut her up!” Rolarn was losing his cool, at last.
“Let me –” Darren reached towards her, but Rimes moved suddenly, up on her feet, throwing both hands over her ears. Grace scrambled away with fright.
“Not safe, never safe!” Rimes started raving. “Worms return, between bricks between soil under earth –”
“Mandy! Look at me!” Darren raised his voice.
Rolarn’s hands flexed on the shotgun, his face steeling with irritation.
“She’s not well,” Letty told him. “For crying out loud, give it up.”
Rimes stepped away from the blankets, shaking, starting to wail. Darren winced onto his bad leg, trying to follow her, nowhere near. Holly glanced back as Rimes pointed suddenly at Rolarn and shrieked, “Not with the worms, never under earth!”
And she made a dash for the escalator.
Rolarn launched off the counter, booming, “Stop!”
Rimes didn’t hear him in her panic, stumbling with flailing limbs towards the stairs. The shotgun went off, the blast tearing through the metal of the escalator and eliciting a startled scream from Rimes as she fell to the side. Darren was up, flinging his big body over the falling doctor. Rolarn turned in the air, gun swinging back around, past Holly, towards Letty. She was in the air, too, pistol firing. The gunshots snapped like small fireworks. It happened so fast, Holly moved without thinking, trying to follow Rolarn as he zipped through the air avoiding Letty’s shots. But her bullets were small – Holly’s hand was much harder to avoid.
The impact made a dull slap, followed by the clatter of Rolarn’s gun skating across the floor and, a moment later, his own bump and grunt. He skidded to a halt near Holly’s feet, a crumpled mess of splayed limbs and ripped wings. She kept her hand up – the shocked pose that always follows an instinctive slap – had she killed him? A living, talking –
Rolarn moved, a hand twitching to some other part of his body, and there was another, final gunshot that caught him in the centre of his bulbous chest. His tiny body convulsed once before going still.
Letty buzzed near Holly, pistol aimed at the other fairy’s body. Her arm was scratched and bloody where a shotgun blast had glanced her, but the worst of Rolarn’s shot had been deflected by the dented and scratched metal strap of her artificial wing. She spat down at him, with a simple epitaph, “Prick.”
Slowly, the others came back to life. Rimes cried in thick sobs, her panic replaced by a more muted despair. Darren pushed himself up onto his hands and knees with laboured breaths. Grace was breathing heavily, too, on the verge of tears.
“I don’t understand,” Holly said. “I didn’t – why did he –”
“They’re screwing us,” Letty said. She holstered her pistol and put her hand up to the wounded arm. Peppered with red scratches, bleeding. “Or more specifically, you. They wanted to complete what my boys started. You have to get moving. Now.”
5
Casaria sat in the office’s smallest med bay, Rufaizu two doors down. Sam Ward had left to find Dr Hertz, who was no doubt out on a cigarette break, as usual, leaving Casaria exactly where he needed to be. He could kick in the next door, drag Rufaizu to the lift and run. They wouldn’t have the Dispenser, but that hardly mattered. He could beat the answers they needed from the boy, prove or disprove Pax’s theories and settle everything. He had to admit he wasn’t so sure which questions exactly needed settling or why Pax had put such stock in the boy – but those answers would come, too.
Anyway, it’d save the MEE a lot of embarrassment in the long run. When Casaria reported their findings – if he reported back – they’d court him for promotion. Set up his own initiative, even. He smiled.
No, thank you.
Yet he was sitting by an empty bed, waiting for Ward to come back. The smile left him. It’d been all work, from the moment she set eyes on him, exactly as he knew it’d be. Promises of reporting to Mathers, comments about completing forms. Sam Ward was as company-focused as ever. Still, she was here, now, and he could prove it to Pax. He could lay out their situation, and Sam would turn her nose up. Then he’d have to restrain her. He’d have an excuse. She couldn’t get in the way.
But Sam had said it to the secretary: I’ve been looking for him.
I, not we. And she’d seemed worried about the cuts on his face. Maybe her efforts to find Dr Hertz showed genuine concern, rather than a desire to get him back to work.
The door opened and Ward entered alone, checking the corridor one last time. “I think he’s out to lunch. It’s not even midday.”
“Lunch isn’t a time,” Casaria told her.
She leant against the door, as far from him as possible, face hard to read. Plotting how much trouble she could get him in, no doubt. He’d let her scheme, then pull the rug out with what he now knew.
“You look bad, Cano,” Ward said. “You should’ve gone straight to a hospital.”
“I can handle a few scrapes,” Casaria said.
She kept staring. With mild disgust? “It’s not about handling it; I’m sure you could grin and bear bleeding death. Where were you?”
“Taking care of our interests, where else?”
“Why did they take you?” Her voice went up a pitch. “Can you just tell me what happened?”
Casaria smirked. He’d forgotten how good it felt to get under her skin. She did care. She’d always cared and she couldn’t stand it. “It wasn’t related to what’s been going on here. I dealt with it.”
“By the skin of your teeth, from the looks of you.”
“You’re not so hot yourself, you know.” Her disgust intensified, but Casaria only smirked. It was true. There were messy stitches on her forehead and dark rings under her eyes. While she struggled to find the words to respond, he said, “I missed some fun yesterday. What’s the feeling in the office, with the damage that’s been done?”
“Right now?” She shook her head, disappointed. Always disappointed by everyone else’s work. “It’s calmed down, so it’s no longer an issue. Heads back in the sand.”
“I heard you’ve been hounding fugitives,” Casaria said. “Getting out there, for a change. Seizing whatever opportunity arises, huh?”
The disgust in her face was replaced by confusion.
“How do you know about all that?” she said.
“My job requires observation, you know. How’s it working out for you? They gonna give you a more expensive desk –”
“God dammit I spent the whole day looking for you! I almost got blown to hell! Stop pissing around and tell me where you’ve been!” She stamped a foot. Fists clenched at her sides. Tears sheened across her eyes.
Had he gone too far? Forgotten she was sensitive?
Casaria stood, swallowing hard. He held a hand her way. Should he offer to hug her? There was anger in those teary eyes, though. He said, “Are you okay?”
The anger intensified. “Why are you here?”
“The praelucente’s dangerous, isn’t it? That must be clear by now. There’s difficult questions that Management aren’t willing to ask. Are you
willing to ask them?”
Sam glared and he expected another emotional response. Flat-out refusal. But as his words sank in, something shifted behind her eyes. Curiosity, the look of that naïve woman he’d first drawn into this game. She said, “She’s turned you. Is that it? Pax lied – she did take you and she turned you –”
“Forget Pax,” Casaria said. “I’m asking questions. The Sam Ward I recruited, I thought, would’ve asked these questions, too. The answers” – Casaria pointed aside – “are with that boy. I need to take him out of here.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Ward replied, her emotional roller-coaster taking her, finally, into numb disbelief. “Even you know better than to suggest working outside the Ministry.”
“I never should’ve brought him here. There’s – wait, where are you going?”
Ward had her hand on the door. “I shouldn’t be alone with you, this is more –”
Casaria’s hand slammed past her, closing the door, creating a barrier. His face was suddenly inches from hers, her frightened breath on his cheek. So this was it. Just as he’d predicted. She didn’t speak, but the fear in her eyes said enough. There was no way she was coming with him – no way he could persuade this company girl.
Only what needed to be done.
At the perimeter of Broadplain Plaza, Letty whistled for the lummoxes to stop and fluttered down onto Holly’s shoulder. She checked up one street, then another, seeing no signs of pursuit. She took out the phone she’d recovered from Rolarn and started thumbing through it. It wasn’t much better than the burner he’d given her, but this one at least had internet access. While its browser loaded painfully slowly, she took stock of the humans watching her. Rimes was a shuddering mess, pale and frail as a skeleton, but barely scratched by Rolarn’s shot. Barton was limping determinedly with support from his daughter. Holly’s face looked like it might recede into her neck; she drew away from Letty like she had some kind of deadly disease. It made Letty snigger, noticing that the woman was rigid as a brick. She’d quickly got used to using Pax as a landing platform, and forgotten this kind of proximity was unusual for Fae and humans alike.
Her smile disappeared as the Fae news website loaded on the phone.
“Ah fuck. Not good.”
Barton shifted closer. “What?”
It was headline news: Sunken City Catastrophe as Apothel Five Resurface. The information was basic but the intention clear: the FTC media were reminding the world that Barton existed. Had Lightgate manipulated this, priming people for a high-profile murder? Letty held up the phone, as if Barton had any chance of seeing it. “These bastards are setting you up.”
“Who? Why?” Grace contributed, desperately confused. “What’s happening, Dad?”
“Explain,” Barton rumbled at Letty.
“Right now, the FTC have been led to believe the Dispenser has not resurfaced, and that you have been disrupting shit in the Sunken City. Playing on what we all know about you as a lunatic monster-baiter.”
“But –” Barton started to protest, but she carried on.
“They plan to kill you and make it look like Val did it, set that up alongside the Dispenser, and your intentions to use it. Completely discredit her.”
“Who’s Val?” Holly asked.
“The Fae governor,” Letty said. “Rolarn, Arnold, Lightgate, they want to fuck her over, they don’t give a shit about us – or the Sunken City.”
Barton brimmed with anger, fury preventing him from responding. That was for the best, because his ideas were bound to be stupid. Letty tried to think quick, her priority to keep these fools alive, to at least thwart that part of Lightgate’s plan. “I’ve got someone else who can hide you. You get away from here, keep safe – I’ll deal with this.”
“The hell you will,” Barton said. “If it’s my name they’re dragging through –”
“Look at the state of you!” Letty said. “You’re not doing shit.”
“He might not be able, but I can –” Holly started.
“You?” Letty almost laughed. “You realise you just swatted a vicious killer out of the air? That’s great and I love you for it but the Fae media is already focusing on human threats so you need to lay bloody low.”
“While you do what?”
Letty hesitated. She needed to face the other Fae before they realised they’d lost the Bartons, that was all. “Whatever Lightgate’s up to herself, she’ll have people coming here. I’ll deal with them, make sure they don’t follow you. You go to Nothicker, find the derelict sandwich shop on Dresden Street. Ask for Palleday and wait there.”
“You’re serious?” Barton said. “Walk into another Fae trap?”
“You got somewhere better to go?” Letty snapped, gesturing to Rimes. “Her place was hardly much better!”
“We’re in the east already,” Barton answered readily. “If we can get to Apothel’s game room – if it’s still there –”
“Because the Ministry won’t think of that? My people won’t think of that? You need to hide, not be in the most obvious bloody place imaginable!”
Barton went quiet. His wife looked at him uncertainly and cleared her throat. Letty turned on her, ready to argue another dumb lummox down. Holly said, “Your people lost us underground, before. You can’t go down there?”
Letty frowned. “You’re nuts, the Sunken City –”
“Not those tunnels. What about the Tube?”
Letty paused. “Not totally dumb, but hardly a long-term plan.”
“We can ride the Central line. It’s circular, and it’s not part of the monster network, is it?”
“The minotaur drains people down there,” Barton said. “It’d take energy –”
“It can’t drain every train, can it?” Holly said. “People survive the Tube every day. And surely tiredness is better than bullets and monsters?”
“Two trains dead,” said Rimes, shaking her head. “That big accident – it’s not safe –”
“After an accident?” Holly said. “Those drivers will be more focused than ever today. It’s the safest time to travel.” She looked at Letty for confirmation. “How long do you need?”
Letty eyed her, impressed by the woman’s willingness to put her family in harm’s way so soon after they’d survived the Sunken City. As a temporary solution, it was better than trying another potentially compromised hideout. If Pax was at the Ministry already, and she could deal with Lightgate’s people here, it might all be over soon enough. Letty said, “You keep moving. If you have to get off the train, do it far away from here. I’ll give you my number, keep me updated.”
“You can come with us,” Grace suggested.
“No, I can’t.”
“You have to,” the girl insisted, probably more afraid for them than for Letty.
“I can’t,” Letty replied, equally forceful. “Aside from not being fucking able to, I have shit to take care of. You’re all liabilities. Easy fucking targets. Now get the hell out of here and keep your heads down so I can deal with my people.”
6
Pax marvelled at how ugly the MEE’s building was. The unpainted block came from the era of architecture when angular concrete was deemed attractive in a way only council buildings and municipal courts aspired to. From the looks of the humourless people coming and going, it did a fine job of making life miserable. There was no obvious name or title to the block, besides the great brass number 14, and a stack of name-plates near the double-door entrance suggested the MEE shared the place.
Pax wondered if it was wise to stand close.
After hiding the scooter around a corner, she had scouted the area for a newsagent’s, hoping to revise the previous day’s news, but there was nothing within the closest few blocks. Curiosity had got the better of her as she questioned where this shady organisation operated from, and she doubted anyone was watching the building itself, not while they were chasing across the city for her.
“Not going in?”
“Jesus fuck
!” Pax spun, fists raised at the empty air. A flutter of movement drew her eyes up. Lightgate settled onto a slight protrusion in the brickwork above Pax’s head. “I’m gonna hang a cowbell round your neck.”
“You’re waiting for Casaria?” Lightgate asked.
Pax followed her gesture to the Ministry building and answered sarcastically, “No, I’m hoping to get spotted. Where’ve you been?”
“Busy,” Lightgate said. “Good to see you didn’t waste time. How long will he be?”
“How would I know?”
“Best get him to hurry up.”
Odd remark. Pax paused, turning back to the fairy. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be anywhere near a Ministry property, should you?”
Lightgate held Pax’s gaze for a few ponderous moments, then finally answered, “I might have got lucky, and wanted to give you a courtesy call, in case you were still here.”
“What? Have you done something?”
The fairy gave a blameless one-shoulder shrug. “An opportunity presented itself.”
Fuck. Pax spun back to the MEE building. She concentrated, imagining the possibilities. Blown-out windows, a rain of rockets? The sewers, the trains, the tunnels, so many choices – and she felt it, then. Something down there. She closed her eyes, recalling her first conversation with Lightgate. The Fae charges under the building, that hidden monster, ready to burst up and savage the Ministry. Was the feeling imaginary, knowing something was down there because she’d been told so? The turnbold, as Lightgate called it – was it there, big, lurking – she winced. It tingled in her fingers and stung her chest, definitely feeling something, now she concentrated. In the direction of the building. She fixed a glare on the fairy. “You didn’t. You couldn’t have – you said –”
“I’d get your man out of there,” Lightgate said. “Quick as you can.”
“You have to stop it!” Pax raised her voice, surging towards the fairy, but Lightgate launched off her perch, out of reach before Pax got close.
She regarded Pax thoughtfully, circling overhead. “If I could stop it, why would I?”
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