Dead apprentice number three made an appearance.
“I was wondering about your arm. The, uh, ‘dent’?”
Clae pulled up his sleeve and squinted down at the mark in question. “What about it?”
“What’s it from?”
“Fell off a roof during the night infestation of 1222. Broke my arm so bad the bone stuck out.”
“Ouch.” Laura winced. “At least you’re in one piece, though.”
“The policemen weren’t. Or hell, maybe they were.” He stared absently at the drapes.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that infestation decided teeth were a nice addition.”
16
FALLING FEET-FIRST
“Where’s Clae?”
Laura asked this as she stood at the front of the Sweeper shop, looking at Okane. Okane paused in the middle of carrying a box. He looked resigned.
“Upstairs.”
“Shouldn’t he be down by now?”
“Oh, he’s awake. He just decided to stay up there.”
“But we have a job.”
“Do we?” Okane grunted, setting the box down and clapping his hands together to rid them of dust.
“I got waylaid by police on the way here.” Laura made a face at the memory. At the time it had been terrifying; they’d sprung up from around a corner so fast she thought they were muggers and hit one of them over the head with her book-filled bag. “There’s some sort of nest on the other side of the Quarter, residential neighborhood. They want us over there as soon as possible.”
“They didn’t call,” said Okane. “Isn’t that the standard procedure?”
“I thought so, but these looked like some of our newer police aides. Maybe they don’t know procedure yet. Do you think it’s okay if I go up there and get Clae?”
“---’ve been up there before.”
“That was with permission.”
Okane eyed her awhile, pondering, then said slowly, “Well, if he doesn’t want --- up there he’ll make it pretty clear. Watch ---r step though, I suppose.”
She went up the stairs to the second floor. Not much had changed up there, aside from the fact that there were some dirty dishes on the little table. But then there was Clae. The sight of him made her falter. He was doing a headstand, leaning against the wall behind him, and judging by the redness of his face he’d been doing this awhile.
“Are you okay?”
Clae’s eyes snapped open. “I’m fine.”
“You’re upside down.”
“Because I felt like it.”
“Where did you get the idea to do that?” Laura craned her head to see him properly. “I mean, I don’t say ‘Hey, I feel like standing on my head’ out of the blue!”
“That’s your own choice.”
“Did you eat breakfast this morning?”
“Of course I did.”
“Are you sure? You get a little loopy when you skip meals.”
“What are you, my—” His lips pursed tight. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing an extra flush of rage from his current tomato complexion. “What are you doing up here?”
Laura straightened with a frown. “There’s an infestation we’re supposed to deal with.”
“How do you know before I do?”
“Because policemen are stalkers?”
Clae snorted. He took his time righting himself but didn’t get up. He sat there on the floor to look at her.
“What are the details?” he asked. “Degree of damage, location?”
“They said it was in a residential neighborhood in the Third Quarter.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“You do realize half of this city is residential?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t think to get any other details.”
“In my defense, I was more under the impression that I was getting crashed by the mobs than getting a formal report.”
Sighing, Clae stood up. “I’ll call the police department to see where we’re going. You grab Okane, make sure you’re both ready to go.”
She hurried down the stairs while he followed at a slower pace. Okane looked up as she came back into the shop.
“Why do you look so relieved?” she grumbled, walking over to him.
“I didn’t hear any yelling,” he confessed.
“He doesn’t yell unless he has to, does he?”
She made to pat him on the shoulder as she said this, and he cringed. He’d gotten better since they first met, but when he wasn’t panicking about life or death he was very peculiar about touching. Hated it, even. Laura didn’t touch people often and she kept forgetting. She pulled her hand back immediately.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He busied himself with the boxes again, pretending she meant something else entirely. “I know he doesn’t shout so much, but it’s reflex at this point. The Sullivans—well. I’m still having a bit of trouble adjusting.”
“You’re doing fine,” said Clae, breezing past them on the way to the telephone. The hand crank rattled as he tried to reach the operator.
Clae got the information quickly, after scaring the operator and whoever answered at the police station. They were headed to a residential area near a rundown art gallery. The gallery had a prominent sign sticking up above the surrounding buildings, a big coin with cartoony features. The gallery itself was painted oddly, with colorful swirls on the walls. As such, it made a wonderful landmark. Nobody could miss it. Their destination was two blocks past it: a higher-class apartment building built of reddish brick, five stories tall. Police surrounded it, and the air was tense.
“What’s going on here?” asked Laura, looking around at the dark faces. “It looks more like there’s a murder than anything.”
“Close,” said Clae.
“Someone got eaten?”
“The infestation hasn’t claimed any victims yet. It’s the people with the infestation.”
“Wait, you don’t really mean this is a mobster hideout?” Laura finally understood why all the police looked so grim. Even the smallest of the mobster groups could put up a nasty fight.
“Are they the ones who targeted the Sullivans?” asked Okane.
“No one’s bothered to tell me,” Clae grumbled.
“Those were the Mad Dogs, right?” said Laura. “If there are infestations, wouldn’t there be mobster Sweepers? Maybe even…”
The old apprentice? Clae wrinkled his nose at the idea, scanned the building.
“Considering that, this probably isn’t Mad Dogs at all. This is a little too high-class for their tastes. People like them prefer places where their messes blend in. At a glance I’d say this would be the Silver Kings mob.”
“But if there’s a mob in there, are they still expecting us to go in? Or will they take care of the people beforehand?” said Laura. She’d never actually anticipated fighting mobsters, and didn’t relish the idea.
“They don’t know how bad the infestation is. We’ll have to wait for Albright, or whoever’s in charge.”
They spent a good few minutes watching the police fanning out over the area as they picked strategic positions. It made Laura uneasy, and she shifted her weight from foot to foot.
“Sweepers.”
Albright had snuck up behind them. Her voice was muted enough that it didn’t scare them, but her face was unusually grim.
“What’s the plan?”
“We’re going to try to get in there and take down as many as we can. Of course, they’re probably prepared for that by now. We’re not exactly being discreet.” She looked bitterly at the surrounding men, and Laura came to the conclusion that she hadn’t been here to direct them at the beginning.
“We’re to go in with you?” Clae frowned at the idea.
“And risk you getting shot? Not a chance.”
“Why are we here, then?”
“The infestations are mobile. If they can carry them to their targets, they can carry them o
ut of the building. We’re putting you on both sides of the building, so if they try to use those amulets you’re there to take care of it.”
Sounded plausible. Laura glanced up at Clae to see his opinion. He didn’t seem too bothered.
“You’ll have police covering us, though,” he checked, and she nodded.
“Of course. Don’t do anything reckless, but if you see something suspicious, go for it.”
He looked over at Laura and Okane and ordered, “You two take the other side of the building. I can handle this side myself. But be careful. I don’t care if there’s some runaway mobster with amulets. If he’s got a gun, don’t attack him. You’re not the MARU. You come in after police have taken care of everything.”
Albright nodded her approval but said nothing, gesturing some officers over instead.
“All right, boys, I want you to take these two around the back. Keep them safe but don’t get in their way.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they affirmed in unison, saluting.
“Cut that out,” she grumbled. “Just do your job.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Laura allowed herself to be led away, Okane on her heels. The policemen took them through a narrow alley on the side of the building. Windows were there despite the lack of space or light. Laura ducked down, hoping that whatever mobsters were inside weren’t paying attention. The policemen didn’t seem to expect anything to happen, but she felt like a sitting duck. They skirted trash cans, jogged a little ways, and they were out of the alley. The back side of the building matched the front: same red brick, same design elements, but there was the addition of a fire escape built in. The back faced another, wider alley, with laundry lines spanning the gap above them. Another group of officers lingered here.
“If you could stay back, even as far as the other side of the alley, that would be appreciated,” said one of the officers.
The pair went to the shadow of the opposite building, and Laura squinted up at their target. The strung-up laundry blocked part of her view. Okane stood next to her, looking antsy. He kept shifting how he held himself, and his eyes were fixed on the building ahead.
“You okay?”
“Fine.” He shifted his weight to the left foot now. “It’s just—Mobsters actually use those things as weapons? The amount of times --- insist the city’s wrong, it seems almost strange for mobsters to be behind it for once.”
“It is rare. The mobster Sweepers take care of most of them, but every once in a while Clae and I get stuck with a few that have been used for assassination. Mobsters plant them in houses and such, out of the way so no one notices them and the monster can grow until it starts reaching out and feeding. They don’t know how long it’ll take, and figure we work just as well as a cleanup crew.”
“Are all their targets like the Sullivans?” He sounded like he was searching for some redeeming quality to it. Laura frowned at the thought, shoving her hands into her pockets.
“The Sullivans were definitely the least likable we’ve met. With the others, I guess mobsters wanted to threaten them or shut them up. There was this man who owned a toy store—he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and heard about something shady. He was going to go to the police, but the people he’d run in on decided to get rid of him first.”
Okane frowned just as deeply. “But they can’t control monsters any better than we can.”
“No one can. So a lot of the time, their target isn’t the only one who gets hurt. Toy store man? His whole family got eaten.”
A distant sound made Laura straighten again. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it appeared to be a signal. Police swarmed in on the back door. One kicked it open and led a group inside, while three more stayed back to watch the windows. Shouting erupted from inside. The raid had begun. The sound of a gunshot made Laura flinch back.
“They’re going all out, aren’t they?” she muttered, unnerved.
They watched as jumbled forms passed by windows and more guns went off. It went on awhile, and Laura was almost sure they wouldn’t be needed, when a window on the third floor opened. A man stuck his leg out, trying to climb through, but he caught the attention of the police left behind.
“Stop right there!” cried one, lifting her gun to point at him.
At the shout he hopped awkwardly back inside. Another man came to the window, aiming a gun of his own. The policewoman dodged to the side. The bullet hit the ground where she’d been. The other two police started shooting up at the window.
Laura plastered herself against the wall. “This is exactly what we weren’t supposed to be caught up in!”
She watched the proceedings frantically, hoping she’d be able to see it if a bullet ended up going toward her, get some warning of when to move. It got harder when two more windows opened up with shooters to man them. The police scattered further for cover, and Laura felt exposed. Why weren’t there trash cans to hide behind over here?
Up on the third floor, the man from earlier made another bid for escape. He hopped out onto the fire escape while the others covered him. As he charged for the stairs, Laura realized he was carrying a leather luggage bag with gold clasps.
“He’s got the amulets!” She pointed.
One of the men in the windows turned to aim at her, and with a yelp she darted toward the alley of the building behind her. She reached its relative safety without injury, and huddled in the shadow of the wall for five seconds before realizing Okane was missing. She scrambled back and looked around the corner, hoping he hadn’t been shot. There was no one in the area where they’d been standing, so that was a relief—at least he wasn’t dead—but she had to scan the wider area before she saw him. Okane was dashing toward the building. He took a running jump and caught the bottom rung of the fire escape ladder. With an almighty clatter it came loose, the bottom half rattling down toward the ground before clanging to a halt at its farthest point. Even before the frame stopped moving Okane swung himself up and scaled the ladder. He started sprinting up the fire escape.
“What are you doing?” Laura shouted, but either he didn’t hear her or he wasn’t paying attention.
Meanwhile the man with the bag had reached the top of the fire escape. He jumped onto the roof and glanced down to make sure the police were occupied. He spotted Okane and panicked. He looked around wildly before hurrying to the right. Laura saw him scuttle across a board that had been left to span the distance between this building and the next. He kicked the board so it toppled into the alleyway.
“Hey!” Laura called, trying to get one of the police officers’ attention. “He’s getting away!”
The officers were too preoccupied with the guns in the windows, and really, Laura didn’t blame them. Okane somehow managed to get past the third floor. Laura wasn’t sure how—she looked down at the officers for only a few seconds before looking up again, and somehow he’d managed to magic himself up to the fourth level and clamber onto the roof. He looked around, located the man, and started running after him. When he came to the edge of the roof there was a loud crack. He went sailing through the air, landing on the other roof with ease to continue his pursuit. That gap hadn’t been impossibly wide, but it was still something too much for Laura to have attempted. His amulets must’ve been activated. She gaped before realization sank in. She was being left behind.
She ran down the alley in the direction they went. They couldn’t pass across the wider street in front, so had to go either straight or risk jumping the alley above her head. Judging by the cracking noises, they chose straight. She couldn’t see them from her position, though, and the cracking was getting farther ahead. Cursing, she touched the amulet at her hip, and the two in her shoes kicked into gear.
A shout rang out up ahead. She gained on it fast and drifted to the far right of the alley, craning her neck to see what was going on. She couldn’t make it out through the clotheslines, but it seemed like Okane caught up. He did it in record time, jumping four buildings. He and the man were moving a
round up there, and she could hear unintelligible talking, but couldn’t figure out what was going on. She glanced around for a way to get up there. The only way she could see was this building’s fire escape. She backed up and glared at the ladder, trying to calculate how high she needed to jump to reach it, how much energy to pull out of the amulets since there was only so far they could go.
Before she could do anything, someone yowled. The luggage bag crash-landed in front of her with a shattering sound, like it had been filled with fragile pottery. Laura glanced up to see the shapes of the two people still moving, then down at the bag before she grabbed the clasps and ripped it open.
She reeled back just in time. A black tendril burst out and swiped. It missed her by a foot and hit the pavement hard enough to break the surface. Belatedly it realized there was sunlight out here, and yanked itself back into the bag. Its sides heaved closed.
“Oh no you don’t,” Laura hissed, pulling out an Egg.
She kicked the side of the bag and jumped back. The infestation reared out again, purling unhappily. It barely had time to brandish its feelers at her before an armed Egg descended into it. The infestation jerked back into the bag, but it didn’t have time to fumble before the Egg detonated. Light seared through the bag’s sides, and the seams strained; three different pitches of screams came from it. Laura kicked it once more. While the clasps sagged open, all that came out was smoke. She ripped it all the way open and cracked another Egg over it. The smoke fizzled out fast, and she squinted in. Ten amulets of varying styles were there, all glittering with kin and all making popping sounds. Within moments they issued their final dark cloud.
A loud noise came from the top of the building. This one was a panicked yelp, and it was definitely Okane’s. Laura sprang up, trying to see through the clotheslines, and she spotted something falling. As it got closer, she realized it was a someone.
“Okane!” she shrieked.
Her mind raced as she tried to think of what she could possibly do to help. She couldn’t just try to catch him; he was falling five stories, and even if she managed to catch him, he’d flatten her. She had no clue what to do with the amulets that could help, either. As he passed the clotheslines, he flipped. Okane twisted like a cat in midair and landed on his feet. As his feet touched ground another loud snap rent the air, echoed by a series of smaller ones. Part of the alley beneath him buckled with a crunch, sending cracks into the hard surface. His fingertips brushed down as his knees bent, and then he shot up straight before losing balance and stumbling back. Shocked and clueless as to anything else to do, Laura reached out and steadied him. He reeled, but looked back at her in surprise.
City of Broken Magic Page 27