City of Broken Magic

by Mirah Bolender

  “Well, she’s not exactly the best role model!”

  “You little rat! After all the things she’s done for you, you turn around and—”

  “She doesn’t want you going down the same path either!”

  “Oh, and I suppose you’ve discussed this?” He didn’t immediately reply, but his expression said enough. Laura’s glower darkened. “You didn’t. I can’t believe—”

  “We’re just worried about you,” he said. “I’m serious. Keep going like you are and you won’t have any options left.”

  “She has plenty of options,” said Clae. They jumped; he had stopped to look at them, eyes narrowed. “If you think all a woman’s good for is marrying, you’re very behind the times.”

  “I think you’re more out of touch with the times,” Charlie retorted, bristling.

  Clae ignored him and looked on at Laura. “We have more important matters right now.”

  “We do.” Laura took three angry steps before whirling to glare again. “Don’t you dare get near Morgan again. Ever since you started going to that university, you’ve gotten pretentious. You’re not a gentleman. You’re a backstabber is all you are.”

  “Laura!”

  She ignored him, pushing past Clae in a bid for the next set of stairs. Charlie made to follow, but Okane made a jerking movement and the machine parts spilled from his arms to clang upon the floor. Charlie let out a loud exclamation and Okane mumbled something about an apology before hightailing it. He passed Laura on the stairs, but luckily Charlie didn’t follow. Clae walked beside her, glancing behind them only once.

  “Neighbor?” he grunted as they reached the next floor.

  “Right.” Laura forced her voice into calm. She was going to work. The safe zone. She didn’t have to worry about nonsense like marriage or angelinas here. “We used to go to school together.”

  “Good. If you said ‘boyfriend’ I was going to throw myself off the building.”

  “That’s drastic.”

  “So’s settling for a moron. It’d be a damn shame if you let someone like that limit you.”

  They descended the stairs and made their way to the cable cars. The trolley ran at this hour, so the trek was made easier, though it was still time-consuming. Strangely enough, the police were waiting for them at the cable car station. Albright was at the head of the crowd, arms crossed and lips pursed. Laura wondered if Clae’s mere presence angered her.

  “What?” he demanded as he stepped off the car, apprentices in his wake.

  “It’s past five,” Albright growled.

  “We ran into complications,” Clae sneered. “Now what’s going on? They’re not letting you in?”

  Laura was mystified for a moment—who could keep the police from doing their job?—but she followed the gaze of one officer and spotted a grim-faced soldier with a rifle in his hands. Military.

  “No,” Albright confirmed. It was obvious in her face that she took this personally. “We got the call, but we were only the middlemen to get you here.”

  “What’s the situation?”

  “Five trainees were taken by an infestation in their barracks building. Apparently they disappeared into the dark. No bodies left, nothing—even furniture started vanishing. There was some sort of commotion. Hell if I know whether the rest made it out. Some hothead decided to lead a counterattack and asked for Sweeper backup. That’s all the information we have.”

  “Are you expecting us to do a rescue mission?” Clae eyed her reproachfully.

  “No.” She returned a withering look. “You get in there and get rid of the problem. If these people know anything they’ll evacuate on their own. But if you act quickly, you’ll limit the damage.”

  “Roundabout rescue, then,” Clae murmured.

  “Whatever you want to call it. You!” Albright called to the lone soldier. “Here are your Sweepers. Take them over.”

  The soldier moved closer, watching them suspiciously, and Albright scoffed. “We’re not about to make a break for it. Hurry up.”

  Scowling, he did as she said and moved faster. “Come with me,” he told the Sweepers, and led them away.

  Their destination was a military barracks building near the middle of the Quarter on the west side. The structure rose half the height of the Cynder Block and wider, a dull gray color with windows marked by dark squares on its side, set in perfect rows that only added to the stern appearance. Its strict atmosphere was the complete opposite of the rickety shacks they’d passed on the way in. A few of those shacks were visible in the distance, but the military didn’t want any noncitizens (these days the thin Fifth Quarter overflowed into parts of the Sixth) getting too close to the barracks. A few sentries surveyed them suspiciously, glancing from wary noncitizens to the Sweepers being led past them. The building currently blazed with light, not from the inside but from an assembly of lanterns and electric lights dragged in from all over the Quarter. The Sweepers were asked to wait by a rickety jeep with its protruding headlights trained on the front door.

  “They’re going all out,” Laura observed.

  “The military is generally faster to act than the police and they actually retain some of the information on monsters, since they have to be able to deal with them beyond the walls,” Clae responded. “It’s unfortunate that they forget they can’t do a goddamn thing beyond trap it.” The last part was louder and directed toward the person coming toward them: a severe-looking man with a great mustache resembling a snake curling around his upper lip.

  “It’s about time you got here.” His tone was as stiff as his posture.

  “What’s going on in there?” Clae demanded.

  “Our trainees started going missing. The signs point to it being one of your monsters, so we called for backup.”

  “Yes, I’ve already heard that from the police. We need more details.”

  The man grumbled, then elaborated, “It grew hands. The shadows grew hands and dragged them in.”

  That definitely sounded like their sort of work.

  “So you got out and set up the lights. But then you decided that charging in and antagonizing it was a good idea?”

  “We were buying time for the rest of the trainees to get out, if there were any.”

  “Don’t lie to me. Why did you really go in there?”

  The man sneered. “You want the truth? Fine. It was one of the lower officers who rallied people here before anyone who should’ve been in charge arrived. There had to be at least twenty who ran in, but none of them have come out since.”

  Clae heaved a long sigh, rubbing at his temple. “Of course. Besides the hands, do you know if there was anything distinctive about this monster?”

  “I’m told it made a strange noise.”

  “Was it a groaning sound? Screeching?”

  “Scratching.”

  Clae’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “It made a scraping sound when it followed them,” said the man. “It was fast, just about on the trainees’ heels as they got out, and it left scores in the floor.”

  “It left marks?”

  Clae shifted his weight, eyes pensive. Laura was confused too. On other jobs, even during an infestation there were supposedly few physical marks left by the monsters beyond what they ate. Only the tools Sweepers used should scar the area. She had no idea why or how this one was marking up the place. Unless it was like the weird ones lately? Maverick? she mouthed at Clae, but he was focused on the man before them.

  “It did. Is that strange to you?” the man was saying.

  “Indeed.” Clae pondered a moment. “Where was it when it was first noticed?”

  “Third floor. Midway through the hall, in one of the sleeping quarters. Took the first boy right out of his bed.”

  “And it followed them downstairs?”

  “Took two more on the way, yes.”

  Clae nodded absently. “And the trainees who escaped? Where are they?”

  “They’ve been transferred over
to the southern barracks.” When Clae raised an eyebrow (the southern barracks were probably a ways away), the man continued, “The surrounding buildings have been evacuated.”

  “Keep an eye on them. Keep an eye on anyone who was in that building.”

  “Do you suspect something’s wrong with them?”

  “This infestation’s showing some unusual behavior, so best keep on the safe side. All we need is for it to develop some kind of venom or disease. God forbid it start using humans as shells instead of amulets.”

  Everyone, even the sentries nearby, tensed up. Any one of those outcomes could be catastrophic. Laura had never considered them before.

  “You don’t think that could actually happen, do you?” she whispered. The very idea made her stomach turn.

  “These things have stayed the same for countless generations,” muttered Clae. “Nothing does that. Animals change, develop camouflage and defenses. Humans create things like guns and walls. Just because it’s been like this as long as we know doesn’t mean the hive mind can’t evolve.”

  “Can you still take it out?” the man demanded.

  “Probably. We plan for this sort of thing with kin.”

  “When will you start?”

  Clae set down his briefcase with a grunt. He opened it up and began to sort through the contents.

  “Laura, Okane. Take these.”

  Laura knelt down and reached out her hands, and Okane did the same on his other side. Clae divided equipment between them. Laura ended up with two more Eggs, a large handful of Bijou, some wire, and a few pellets that served as flash bombs.

  “If you use the Bijou, be careful. They’ll roll down stairs but not up. And go slow enough that they can keep sensing the amulets in your shoes. They’ll follow you,” Clae told them.

  “Will that make a shield against this thing?” asked Laura.

  “Depending on how strong it is. Bijou can easily keep a smaller one away, but a big, moving infestation may prove difficult. And be sure to aim right with your Eggs. They won’t do any good if they miss the target.”

  They straightened up. Laura stored her new equipment in the various bags on her belt. She was stuffing the wire in, cursing because it kept trying to unravel, as Clae announced, “We’ll begin immediately. If we find any of your people we’ll send them out, but they’re not our first priority.”

  “Understood.” The man nodded. “Are there any other precautions we should take?”

  “Make sure no one comes in. I don’t care what excuse they have, we don’t want any other potential food sources available to it.”

  “We’ll lock down the area even further. Anything else?”

  “Have you got telephones in there? Of course you do. Get in contact with the police, have them get an operator to dial all the phones. It could serve as a distraction to the monster and might help locate your men. If any of them have survived, anyway. Doubtful.”

  “Of course.” The man frowned. The military wasn’t fond of the police—something about child’s play in comparison to their job—so he probably wasn’t looking forward to working with them. His hand circled in a wordless gesture for any more information, but when none was forthcoming, he folded his arms. “Be fast. The creature has done enough damage.”

  He turned away and began barking orders to the surrounding men, telling So-and-So to get those troops on the job, and So-and-So to regulate the lights and shut down any way others could get into the area. Soon only the Sweepers were left by the jeep. Clae shuffled, double-checking that his guns were still there and then checking the time on his watch, before putting a few more Bijou into his vest pocket.

  “If you run out of ammunition, then get back out here if you can. There’s more in the case but I don’t want to bring it in there. Too bulky. Got it? Good. Let’s get going.”

  The barracks doors were nondescript, but they opened on well-oiled hinges. Inside, the barracks were just as plain as the exterior. The walls had the same grayish color, the wooden floor polished to the point it shone dully in the light from the nearest window. Patches of light were visible down the hall, marking the places where windows were set, but for the most part darkness was overwhelming. Laura shook an Egg to get some better lighting.

  “Now what?”

  “We stick close and comb the place,” Clae murmured, taking a step forward.

  They crept down the hall. The muffled sound of shouting soldiers could be heard outside, but in here their footsteps echoed loudly. It rankled Laura to hear how much noise they made. The hallway led them right, and they did a full circuit of the first floor. This first floor was comprised of classrooms, mostly empty, with chalkboards at the front and desks and chairs scattered throughout the room. Nothing was in there, or if there was, the others didn’t acknowledge it. They located a set of stairs and began to climb.

  “Sir,” Okane piped up as they walked.

  “I thought I told you not to call me that,” Clae retorted. “What is it?”

  “I’ve noticed that --- always refer to those things as monsters, or creatures, or just things. Do they not have a name?”

  “Yes and no.”

  Laura didn’t think of it much, but she was sure at one point he’d called them something strange. “You did have a name for them, though, didn’t you?”

  Clae made a humming sound as he reached the landing and peered around the corner. “Sweepers sometimes call them kaibutsu or bakemono.”

  Laura tried to repeat the words and butchered them terribly. She frowned at that pathetic attempt. “Where do those names come from?”

  “It’s the native language of Orien. Same language Sweepers used to name kin, same language your name comes from,” Clae replied, glancing back at Okane.

  “Your name’s a word?” Laura asked, baffled.

  “It means ‘money,’” he answered.

  Silver-coin eyes. So someone else picked up on that too.

  “What do those other names mean?”

  “Essentially they translate into ‘monster.’ I’m not fluent so I don’t know the details or the differences, but that’s what Sweepers ended up using. The cities don’t uphold those as official names, though, so they’re falling out of use.”

  “Why wouldn’t they—” Laura snapped her mouth shut and grabbed Clae’s sleeve. He stopped on the stair, turning his wary gaze on her.

  “What is it?”

  “There’s something up there.” She hadn’t gotten a good look at this distance, barely a glimpse out of the corner of her eye, but it was large and dark. Possibly their target. “On the floor.”

  “Moving?”

  “No.”

  Maybe preparing to strike, she thought. Clae seemed to think the same. He held his arm out and motioned for them to move back. Laura descended two steps, quietly as possible. Okane leaned into the wall as if hoping to become one with it. No sound came from ahead. They stayed there, frozen, waiting for some kind of reaction. Nothing. The beam of a searchlight shone through the windows, dim and shifting slowly like the people outside were trying to observe them. It slid over the walls, just above the shape. It lit the Sweepers briefly, throwing Clae’s tense features into sharp relief before leaving them and tracking up toward the next floor. It took what seemed like forever. Laura held her breath so long she felt her lungs might burst.

  Finally Clae moved his hand, a light wave signaling the apprentices to stay put. Slowly, slowly, he edged out and around the corner. Despite the warning, Laura took his previous position, trying to see without exposing herself. There it was, a dark shape on the ground in the darkest corner of the hallway. It lay almost motionless, save for the slight rise and fall of its farthest portion. Clae approached as if expecting it to lash out and bite. Laura gripped her Egg tighter, calculating when to attack: before the creature moved, in case Clae couldn’t make a signal fast enough? He hovered by the shape, gun raised. After a moment he relaxed.

  “Not our thing.” He toed it, no longer cautious.

  L
aura felt relief and disappointment in the same crashing wave. She relaxed her grip on the Egg, frowning at the lingering sting in her hand. How hard had she been holding it? “If it’s not one of your kaibutsu, what is it?”

  “One of the trainees.”

  Laura walked over to get a better look, raising the Egg to squint at the details. The boy sprawled there looked younger than she was, but he wore the trainees’ brown jacket, unbuttoned and thrown on over pajamas.

  “The monster didn’t get him. What happened?” asked Laura.

  “Hell, maybe he fainted.” Clae toed the body harder. “Hey, you. Get up.”

  The body didn’t move, so he kicked it. This time the trainee jerked violently. He curled in on himself, coughing.

  “Who are you and what are you doing here?” Clae demanded.

  The boy looked up at him with wide eyes. He spluttered incoherently.

  “I-I-I, uh, Jonathan Harrow! I, well, maybe I ah—”

  “Spit it out.”

  “I was running and I fell over and it was coming and I don’t know!”

  “From which direction?”

  “W-what?”

  “Which direction, I said!”

  The boy pointed back over his shoulder, down the hall.

  “Of course,” Clae muttered. “You, get downstairs and out of this building. Get in our way and I might accidentally shoot you.”

  The trainee scrambled to his feet and tore off down the stairs, nearly bowling Okane over and tripping over himself on the way.

  “We know it can easily go down stairs, but we’re not sure about up.” Clae glared after the trainee before turning his attention to them again. “If he’s right and it was following him here, it might be on this floor. Keep an eye out.”

  He kept walking as if nothing had happened, and after a moment the other two followed.

  The rooms on this floor were a mix of classrooms and sleeping quarters. All of them were the same: classrooms identical to the ones on the last floor, and all the sleeping quarters with six sets of bunk beds, three along each wall, metal frames and thin mattresses. Footlockers sat at the end of these beds, and they were unmade, but if it weren’t for that, every room would’ve looked exactly the same: uninhabited.