by Ren Ryder
“Akua!” I teetered as my elemental strained to gather water, trace amounts from the air and from my body, to fuel the working.
A small stream of water splashed against the superheated glass. The sight was less than impressive, but the effects were very much so. The rapidly cooled glass shrunk and flexed, then cracked when it came into contact with the window’s superheated interior. A spiderweb of fractures spread through the thick glass.
A little dizzy, I stepped onto my back foot and lost my balance. Fallen on one knee with my right fist supporting my weight, I shook my head to clear it.
“That was amazing!”
“Woahhh!”
“No way!”
“So cool!”
The children’s celebration was short-lived as a hole the size of a cannonball was made in the doors behind us. A man’s head poked through the hole, and he fixed us with a baleful glare. That glare promised things, things no one should have to consider regardless of age.
“Won’t be long now, little piggies! Pray to your gods, and regret you ever crossed Ouroboros!”
I ignored the jibe and stood shakily. My eyes stung from the sweat pouring off my brow, but I ignored that, too. “Bell! I need your help!”
A short pause. Bell appeared from amidst the sea of riches, an insufferable look on her face. “What is this about needing my help, Kal-baby? You look to be in a spot of trouble,” she teased.
I cut to the chase. “What do you want?”
Bell’s lips drew back to show a sharp-toothed smile. “It wounds me that you think I’d seek to profit from your distress. Oh, lookie here at all these little sacks of human flesh. One-two-three-fourteen~” Great, Bell had implicitly created the conditions for a hostage situation.
I didn’t yet have the confidence to risk fourteen lives on my budding abilities, and Bell knew that, the ingrate. “Fine! You can have fourteen times your usual payment! But, not until after all the children are safely away from here!” I yelled.
“I knew you’d understand~” Bell kissed me on the cheek, grinning a cherubic grin that was very at odds with her outright predatory stare.
A thrumming sensation went through the seal on my chest. I felt sick, but I shrugged off the dread sensation and lowered myself into my stance. I threw my body behind a front kick that impacted the window at the center of the mass of spiderwebs. The one-way mirror shattered outwards, spraying bits of glass onto the street three stories below.
One of the bigger kids cast me a speculative glance. “We’ll die if we fall from that height!”
“I’m going to catch you,” I said, imbuing my voice with all the bluster and confidence I could muster. I smiled in what I hoped was a reassuring way.
The children began to wonder at their chances. “How? That’s easy thirty feet! Thirty!”
My smile turned brittle. “You’re going to have to trust me.”
“Why should we trust you?!”
“Yeah, what has anyone ever done for us?!”
One of the littlest members of the crew stepped forward. “I trust you.” The boy’s reedy body was thin, but an inordinate amount of muscle showed through where the sack didn’t cover his skin. These kids were strong, and tough, for making it this far.
The kid looked at his fellows, a look of pure, innocent wonder. “Come on guys, he can do magic! I’m sure he can do it!”
“I dunno…”
The boy leapt off the windowsill without a backward glance, trusting me implicitly. “BELL!”
“On it~” I breathed a sigh of relief as Bell swooped down and caught the boy in a cradle of wind. Dead leaves and garbage were flung away from the impact site.
I shot the waiting children a bold grin. “See? What’d I tell you? Easy as pie!” I clenched my teeth to keep them from chattering. “Who’s next?”
A girl raised her hand. “Me!”
One of the bigger boys pushed her out of the way in his excitement. “Hey, I wanted to go next!”
“Alright kids, line up single file. I don’t want to see any pushing or shoving. And hold onto your bags tight, okay?”
I got the kids to line up single file and trusted Bell to do the rest.
Right then the center gap in the doors reformed in a shower of splinters. The beams in the floor shook. With growing urgency I flung as much junk as I could into the path of the doorway. Anything to impede their progress.
I honed my senses to their utmost limit and prepared to fight a delaying battle. Grabbing the yellow-gold bandana tucked into my pant’s pocket, I tied it around my face to hide most of my discerning features. There was little I could do to disguise my golden eyes and shock of white hair. I wanted those features to be recognized anyways. It would have to do for my debut as a renegade rising in opposition to Ouroboros.
Would Thorn have approved?
I spurred the remaining kids on. "All of you, you have to go, now!"
“Where do we even go?”
“What are we supposed to do now?”
“You’ll have to go it alone from here on. I can’t come with you. But, if all goes well, we’ll see each other again.”
One of the girls gazed back at me forlornly. “Aren’t you coming with us?” The incomprehension in her eyes was a painful sight.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I wish I could, but there’s someone real important to me that I have to help before it’s too late. Find the Wasted Minstrel in the Lower Quarter. Tell the old man who works there that Kal sent you, you can trust he’ll take care of you.”
One boy threw a fit. “I don’t wanna! I hate the dark!” I threw him out the window. Bell caught him.
I spoke to the remaining children. There were eight of them. “I’ll create a distraction for you all to get away. Stick together, look out for each other, and ditch your bags if you come up against a situation where you have to choose between it and your lives. Money is just stuff, it’s not worth dying over. You’re the masters of your own destinies now; carve out your futures from here on and don’t regret the past.”
“Good luck!”
“Don’t let them beat you!”
I smirked. “Thanks. I won’t.”
Then I threw myself through the hole in the doorway, which scraped me up along the way, and launched myself into the midst of the angry goons trying to finish the job of breaking down the doors.
Chapter Eighteen
I didn’t fight. There was no reason to, not yet anyway. Instead I jumped off the floor and bounced off the walls like a pinball. I pushed my body to do increasingly acrobatic leaps and bounds that tested the limits of my physical prowess, and the possible.
“There he is! I will personally reward whoever brings him to me, alive mind you! Ouroboros has plans for this so-called Specter,” I shivered at the ice in her tone, and at the implications of her words.
Distract them. I need to distract them so the kids can get away.
I landed feet first on the ceiling above twenty-some angry grunts. “Gai.” I envisioned my boots becoming one with the ceiling.
Trace amounts of mana seeped out from the soles of my booted foot and bonded to the ceiling. An involuntary chuckle escaped me as my view of reality came unhinged. With my orientation flipped and my hair standing on end in much the same way as my new namesake, I menaced the crowd below me.
“I heard the craziest thing, big bad Ouroboros is afraid of ghosts. Is that true?” As I spoke I surveyed the scene, looking mostly for projectile weapons or anything that could be reliably thrown.
I feel oddly manic. Am I really sane? Ah, oh well.
“We ain’t afraid of no ghosts!”
“Come get some!”
“Get down here so we can pay you back for our fallen brothers!”
“Bring it on!”
I opened my eyes wide and made a rainbow with my hands. “Ooh, scary. I’m honored to be thought of so highly by thieves, drug-pushers, and killers.”
My attention flickered between the people on the floor and the
hole in the doorway I’d come through. That was when a violent explosion rang out within the enclosed space, nearly deafening all of us, including the grunts packed in like sardines below. My ears were ringing and my vision went fuzzy.
“Hmm, that’s strange.”
“Never seen one of these before, have you, Specter?” A chilling smile graced the features of the matronly, gone-to-gray but full of steel woman leading the charge.
She turned a hunk of metal over in her hands, caressing it lovingly. It didn’t look all that special to me. From what I could tell, it was composed of a cylindrical metal barrel, with a wood grip, and a moving part or two.
What’s so special about that?
“Ah, much as I’ve heard, you’ve been gone from New London for too long, haven’t you? Please, allow me to do the honors of introducing you to the latest advance in modern weaponry. This here is a single-shot firearm known as the flintlock pistol, and I’ve just shot you with it.”
A dread premonition urged me to flee in the face of this woman and her cold certainties. I followed my instinct to flee, no questions asked.
“Gai.” I detached myself from the ceiling and flung myself to the side.
That was when things went sideways. My side felt hot, molten-lava-under-your-skin hot. Shooting pains turned my legs to goop and made for a less-than-stellar landing on the sidewall. Instead of landing the way I wanted and vaulting off down the hallway, I stumbled and fell from my perch on high. Then I was falling, falling, falling into the abyss.
The stink of rubbing alcohol and smelling salts brought me back to my senses. Even before I got my bearings, I felt all the hairs of my body stand on end.
“Ah, wonderful, you’re awake. I was quite beside myself for awhile there, second-guessing whether I’d be losing another patient. Lead poisoning sure can do a number on the body. We’ll just have to count our blessings that, in this case, the slug wasn’t made of iron.”
I was strapped to a dinky operating table set up in a cage of solid iron. My head felt like someone had been stomping on it while I was out, and the sterile light shining down from the ceiling made my vision blur. I was sure I could see at least two figures, one inside the cage with me and one outside it, but they grew fuzzier the more I focused on them and doubled if I let my gaze linger.
I breathed in deep through my nose. The scent of my own blood filled my nostrils for a moment before I made an inspired attempt at coughing up a lung.
“You’re quite lucky, Lady Genevieve. Four centimeters to the left and it would have perforated the stomach, any higher up and we’d be dealing with a punctured lung. Perforate the stomach and all the poisons naturally inside there get into your body. Nasty business, that.
“The true wonder of the day is that you managed to land a direct hit without inflicting a fatal wound. Truly remarkable work. Either the Lady is an incredible shot, or you were unbelievably lucky. But I shan’t comment further on that point.” My vision cleared enough to see the surgeon bow his head to the ice queen who had shot me. He winked at me as he did.
I could smell the must, dust, and dirt that clung to everything despite the surgeon’s meticulous nature.
I must be someplace underground.
The walls and floor were all made of thick concrete, and there were no windows to allow light to filter in from outside. With as little as I was able to turn my head, I couldn’t be certain there weren’t more cages like the one I was in housing other unfortunates like myself.
My only saving grace seemed to be that Bell hadn’t been captured along with me. There was a chance, however slim, that she could find a way into wherever I was being held to help me enact an escape.
I didn’t kid myself, though. The situation I was in was dire, and I couldn’t count on a rescue. For now I would wait, watch, and listen. If any chance to escape cropped up, I promised myself I’d take it.
Lady Genevieve waved her hand. “Enough with the bedside manner. Tell me what you know about this… Specter, this creature. What are we dealing with? Is there cause for concern?”
The surgeon laughed as he tossed aside his surgical gloves, which were stained with my blood, into a bin beside the operating table. His surgical mask followed after, revealing too-white teeth. The light-haired man pulled on white leather gloves to replace his lost ones and favored the ice queen with a disarming smile.
The surgeon poked me in the stomach, causing me to convulse. “It isn’t some kind of ghost, I can tell you that.”
Genevieve tapped her foot and crossed her arms under her breasts. “Well, what is it then? Or am I to believe, that despite all your vast experience and knowledge, we’ve come across something the great and illustrious Dr. Hargath can’t identify?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I didn’t say I couldn’t place the species, I’ve only told you what it is not. And, it isn’t human, that’s for certain.”
The surgeon got a faraway look in his eye, and abruptly went off on a tangent. “What’s interesting is that the specimen is in its prime, and from the reports, it should be showing another fifteen-plus years of age. How that’s possible I can’t say for certain, but, there are, stories… told by the common folk, they say that some people lost in the Great Forest come back untouched by time, even after decades or even generations spent away.”
“Did I ask for more of your wild speculations? Tell me the facts man, the facts!” The “lady’s” tone brooked no argument.
“Apologies, my lady. It’s a sublimely intriguing specimen you’ve brought me this night. I shall endeavor to restrain myself.”
Genevieve fanned herself in a huff. “Yes, yes you will. Now, go on.” She waved magnanimously for the surgeon to continue.
Hargath produced a white handkerchief from the pocket of his lab coat and breathed delicately from it. “Of course, of course. It’s counted amongst the Fair Folk without a doubt, and considering the humanoid form, it must be from a noble bloodline, or at least one of the high races. Look here. Do you know what these are made of?” The surgeon pointed a white-gloved hand at my manacles and the iron bars of my cage.
On the surface the question seemed to be directed at Lady Genevieve, but I had the feeling it was actually meant for me. I remained studiously mute, but the answer was self-evident. There was nothing special about either of them, they were simple iron. And yet, the iron manacles attached to my wrists made my flesh sizzle and burn the same as meat seared on a skillet.
I’d always avoided touching iron directly if I was able, doing so had always made me itchy and gave me rashes. Wasn’t that a normal allergy, like being sensitive to certain foods or drink? I did feel more comfortable and, sort of, at peace in nature, but didn’t everybody?
“And you believe this, this thing, is one of the humanoid… what did you call them? Fair Folk?”
“They go by many names. I find it easiest to call them as they are, regardless of their preferences. Although not much is known about the high races, it is said that their blood is not like ours. The faeries are an undying race, and it seems nature has curtailed their proliferation, thankfully, otherwise we poor, wretched humans might be overrun.”
Hargath poked the gauze covering the wound in my side, causing it to stain the white bandage purple with my blood. The show and tell seemed to convince Lady Genevieve beyond a shadow of a doubt. Meanwhile, I was reeling in confusion.
“The good Duke is visiting our underground auction tonight, the one for individuals with special tastes. See to it that New London’s ghost attends the night’s proceedings. Such a rare specimen should garner significant attention. Keep him caged for now. And I don’t want to hear about a single misstep in his handling, do you hear me?”
Hargath sketched out an exaggerated bow. “As the lady wills it, so it shall be,” there was a slight pause, “Out of purely professional interest, what are your intentions for this specimen?”
“Don’t bother, he isn’t for sale. After all the damage he’s done to our organization, we
can’t suffer him to live. He’ll be displayed, then served up to our pet serpent for the entertainment of the attendees.
“His crucified body will hang under the sun where the populace can see him— that will be most effective in making the common folk rue the error of their ways, that it will. Fear, my goodman. That is how you keep the common man under control. For that, this so-called Specter will be a most effective tool. Most effective indeed.” The ice queen’s cold laughter echoed inside the concrete chambers, setting my teeth on edge.
“I must be on my way. I’ve sent for our mage so that he can keep our product under strict wards. Tonight shall be a spectacle. In the meantime, please do take care of him for me.”
Lady Genevieve dismissed my existence with a look and disappeared from view down the shadowed halls of the underground chamber. I listened to her echoing footsteps as they retreated, trying in spite of myself to keep count, to glean any information I could about the dungeon’s layout.
Hargath caught my gaze and looked me dead in the eyes, then spoke directly to me for the first time. “You haven’t the faintest clue who or what you are, do you? How very charming.”
I bit down to keep my mouth closed, so hard that it hurt my jaw— not that I thought I gained anything in particular from being silent. I was actually so out of sorts that belligerence and stubborn tenacity were all I could think of using to shield myself.
Hargath prattled on as if my silence was response enough. He seemed the type to talk to the air more often than not, so I wasn’t surprised. “I’ve dissected many, many of your kind, so many in fact that I’m considered an authority on faeries. So, when I say that you’re not human, you best believe the words coming out of my mouth. Hmm, what do you say, are you convinced? No? Oh, oh dear, how sad, you don’t trust me to be telling the truth?” There was a sort of twisted certainty to the surgeon’s words, which made them hard to dismiss.