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Ashes of the Sun

Page 25

by Django Wexler


  “Ooh, I’ve heard about these, but I’ve never seen one intact!” she said. “Is it true you can see in the dark?”

  “A… a little bit,” Beq said, unnerved. “One of the lenses has the same intensifier coating used on the Legionary masks, but it washes out most of the color—”

  Maya cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, do we know you?”

  “Oh! No, you don’t. I’m Sarah.” She gave a slight bow. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Can I ask why?” Maya said.

  “Because I heard you were asking about the Core Analytica, and you were willing to pay for information. That’s true, isn’t it?” She smiled. “Word spreads fast in this place.”

  “It’s true,” Maya admitted. “And you have something?”

  “No, but I know someone who does,” Sarah said. “I can take you to him.”

  “For a price, I assume.”

  “Just a half thaler. And I’ll knock off a decithaler if your friend will let me look at her spectacles.”

  Beq recoiled protectively. Maya said, “Half a thaler will be fine. Where are we going?”

  “It’s easier to show than to tell,” Sarah said. “Come with me, if you’re ready.”

  Maya looked at Beq, who gave a tiny shrug. It’s the best lead we’ve got so far. She pushed her wine away and got up. “Then, let’s go.”

  Sarah, judging by the expert way she elbowed a path through the crowd, was clearly a native of the tunnels, though she looked better-off than most. As they cut through the market, she chattered about the stalls, a running commentary of which Maya caught only snatches.

  “… old Perses Ironjaw used to sell there, until he got caught in a blizzard, so now its Polarc. And this is Snipwillow; he loves those little flower-mushrooms you find in ghoul caves sometimes; you can use them—”

  “Maya,” Beq whispered. “I think someone’s following us.”

  “Who?” Maya said.

  “Not sure.” Beq adjusted her spectacles and looked over her shoulder. “There’s at least three of them, though.”

  Friends of Sarah’s? Maya reached back to touch her haken, just to make sure it was easily accessible. We’ll see.

  Sarah turned down a side street and then went through an arch into a smaller tunnel. This one curved away from the market, branching into a number of other passages. Apart from a few sleeping forms huddled against the wall, these were almost empty of people. One archway was partially collapsed, half-blocked by a chunk of broken rock, and this was where Sarah stopped.

  “Can you climb over this?” she said. “It opens up once we’re past.”

  “It doesn’t look like anyone lives down there,” Maya said.

  “It was abandoned after a cave-in,” Sarah said. “Which makes it a good place to meet if you don’t want to be seen.”

  Maya glanced behind them, but if there had been someone following, they’d stayed far enough back to be out of sight. She shrugged. “Lead the way, then.”

  Sarah nodded cheerfully and hoisted herself through the gap left by the fallen stone. Maya followed, with Beq bringing up the rear. As Sarah had promised, beyond that initial squeeze the tunnel opened out, with chunks of broken rock and debris scattered around a larger space, dark except where torchlight filtered in through the archway. Sarah got out a glowstone and shook it to life, beckoning them to follow.

  “So who is this person we’re going to meet?” Maya said, walking cautiously in the rubble-strewn street. Broken rock mixed with scraps of wood and other more human debris underfoot. “Another arcanist?”

  “Funny thing about that,” Sarah said. “It’s actually me that wanted to talk to you. Although I am an arcanist.” She hopped up on a large chunk of curved stone and turned to face them. On either side of the rock, another figure loomed out of the darkness, glowstone light gleaming blue on the point of a crossbow. “And I’m really sorry about this, but I’m the one who’s going to be asking the questions.”

  “Look,” Sarah said. “I really am sorry about this. If it helps, these two are just a precaution.”

  Sarah’s “precaution” consisted of a wiry older woman and a bald-headed man, both armed with swords and crossbows. After Maya and Beq hadn’t shown any sign of immediate resistance, they’d raised their weapons so they weren’t exactly pointed at the pair, but weren’t pointed away from them, either.

  Maya thought she could get to her haken before they could shoot. She might be able to raise her panoply field in time. But where does that leave Beq? She bit her lip and waited.

  “So here’s the thing,” Sarah said. “You’ve been asking around about the Core Analytica, and I would very much like to know why.”

  “We just heard a rumor, that’s all,” Maya said with a glance at Beq. “Seems like everyone’s heard of it.”

  “Everyone’s heard of it here because I have been asking around,” Sarah said. “When two girls nobody’s ever seen before started asking the same questions, some of my friends got in touch. So where did you hear this rumor?”

  “Just… around,” Maya said vaguely.

  “Around.” Sarah shook her head. “Can I tell you what I think?”

  Maya eyed the crossbows. “I don’t think I can stop you.”

  “I’m trying to think who might be interested in a rare ghoul arcana, and only one thing makes sense to me.” Sarah sat up straighter and grinned. “You two are Order scouts, aren’t you?”

  Maya tried to school her features. “We’d hardly tell you if we were.”

  “Of course.” Sarah spread her hands. “But it presents me with a bit of a dilemma. You see—”

  She paused at the sound of metal scraping on rock from the direction they’d come in, frowning.

  “Probably your friends,” Beq put in. “The ones you had following us.”

  “I didn’t have anyone following you,” Sarah said, her brow furrowing. Then her eyes went wide, and she dove off the rock, at almost the same moment Maya threw herself against Beq.

  They crashed to the rocky ground in a tangle, and Maya heard the snap-hiss of crossbow bolts passing overhead. Sarah’s guards were both down, the woman clutching her throat, the man slumped over a piece of rubble with a pair of bolts in his chest. At the entrance to the tunnel, a half dozen bright lanterns came on, filling the space with crisscrossing beams.

  Sarah, who’d dropped behind her boulder, emerged for a moment and hurled something in a high arc. It dropped among the advancing lights and exploded with a crack and a burst of thick smoke. More crossbows twanged, the bolts zipping past and ricocheting off the rocks with bright sparks. Maya pushed herself up, helped Beq to her feet, and ran for it, ducking behind the nearest boulder. They found themselves across from Sarah, hunkered down as another volley shredded the roiling clouds of smoke and clattered off the stones.

  “Not friends of yours?” Beq said.

  “Auxies,” Sarah muttered. “No idea how they found me.” She leaned out to look, then jerked back as a bolt sparked off the stone just beside her. “Listen, if you are Order, I don’t suppose you could—”

  Maya shook her head. Not without pulling out my haken, anyway, and that’s a last resort. Revealing herself would put paid to any chance of getting the information they needed.

  “Of course,” Sarah said. “Well, in that case I’m open to suggestions.”

  Maya risked a peek around the boulder. A dozen helmeted Auxiliaries were working their way slowly forward. Reaching out to Sarah’s dead guard, Maya grabbed his crossbow and fired into the air. The bolt caromed off the ceiling, the sound making all the Auxiliaries duck for cover. Maya ducked back as they returned fire.

  “Is there a back way out of here?” Beq said.

  “There is, but I don’t think we can get there,” Sarah said. “That little surprise was the only one I brought with me.”

  Inspiration struck, and Maya grinned. “Fortunately, my friend has a little surprise of her own.” Beq gave her a quizzical look, and Maya waggled her eyebro
ws. “Get ready to run.”

  “What exactly do I have?” Beq whispered, when Maya bent close.

  “Just throw something,” Maya said. “I’ll do the rest.”

  Understanding spread across Beq’s face. She surreptitiously grabbed a chunk of rock, hefted it as though she’d pulled it from her pocket, and tensed. When Maya gave her the nod, she hurled it at the Auxiliaries.

  A few crossbow bolts zipped past, but at the sight of something flying toward them, most of the Auxiliaries sensibly dove for cover. Maya reached around to the small of her back, laying a finger against her haken, and drew on deiat. Where Beq’s stone hit the ground, she summoned a column of flame, liquid fire that blasted out of the rock and splashed off the ceiling in glowing droplets. She kept the temperature low—it wouldn’t do to actually sear some unlucky Auxiliary—but the light and smoke were enough to make everyone keep their head down.

  “Now!” Maya said.

  She surged to her feet, grabbing Beq’s arm with one hand, and ran for it. Sarah did the same, dodging between the chunks of rock. She rounded a particularly large boulder, then doubled back. Concealed behind it was a narrow crack in the rock, which in the blue light of Sarah’s glowstone revealed itself to be an entrance to a parallel tunnel.

  Sarah didn’t hesitate in wedging herself through, and Maya and Beq followed. Maya let the fire blink out, and she heard the harsh voices of the Auxiliaries shouting to one another. The sound of boots and crossbow fire faded quickly, though, as they pounded down a narrow, darkened tunnel.

  “Wait here,” Sarah said quietly. She shoved the glowstone inside her coat, plunging them into near-total darkness. “See if they follow.”

  For a few tense minutes they stood there in silence. When no lights flickered behind them, Sarah relaxed, producing the glowstone again.

  “Probably charged off down the main tunnel after us,” she said. “I hope they get lost for days.”

  “Are you all right?” Maya said to Beq.

  “I think so.” Beq raised an eyebrow. “Maybe a little singed.”

  “I’ll say,” Sarah said. “That was a plaguing impressive alchemical. I don’t suppose you want to tell me where you got it?”

  “Honestly, I’m not feeling generous right now,” Maya said. She looked down at Sarah, who raised her hands apologetically.

  “I said I was sorry! When they told me someone was asking questions, I figured bringing a couple of sell-swords along was the smart move.” She sighed. “More fool me.”

  There was an awkward silence.

  “So now what?” Beq said.

  “I think we ask some questions,” Maya said. “Starting with this one. You’re one of these rebels, aren’t you?”

  It was a shot in the dark, but an educated one. With a whole market full of people selling dhak, who else would rate the attention of a full squad of Auxiliaries down here?

  “I wouldn’t tell you if I was,” Sarah said with a slight smile. “But I’m starting to think we might share a mutual interest.”

  “What exactly would that be?” Maya said.

  “Dux Raskos Rottentooth,” Sarah said. “Specifically, seeing him get what’s coming to him.”

  “That’s… not impossible,” Maya said. “So what if we do?”

  “If there were agents of the Order in the area,” Sarah said, “and they weren’t bought and paid for by the dux, I might advise them to check out the warehouse at the corner of Third Street and Broad Way, on the edge of the manufactory district. I think there’s quite a lot there that they might find… interesting.”

  Chapter 12

  Yevri’s Café had been a fixture of the West Central district for many years. It had been built in a prime spot, a prudent distance from the edge of the Pit but still close enough to bask in the warm, sulfurous air that rose continuously from the depths. But the Pit was always expanding, stone gradually crumbling under its acidic breath, and yesterday’s prudent distance was today’s teetering on the brink.

  More than teetering, actually. At least half of Yevri’s building now projected over the edge, cantilevered out on a complex set of struts that had been built up, bit by bit, as the underlying rock fell away. Old Yevri and his sons insisted it was still safe, and most days someone was out there hanging from a rope harness, adding yet more beams and props. There was a morbid betting pool on whether the old man would live long enough to see his beloved café finally topple into the abyss.

  In the meantime, the place was pleasantly warm, the food was reasonably priced, and no one looked too closely at suspicious characters. Gyre hadn’t had time to apply a fake scar, so he’d resorted to a scarf and a hood, making it obvious he didn’t want to be recognized. Yora, when she arrived, had her golden hair gathered in a tight bun under a shapeless hat.

  She sat down opposite him at the rough-hewn wooden table, looking somewhat the worse for wear. Her skin was a shade paler than usual, and there were bags under her eyes, as though she hadn’t slept since the attack.

  “It’s good to see you,” Gyre said.

  “You too,” Yora said. “You had us worried.”

  “The Auxies were persistent,” Gyre said. “Everyone else all right?”

  Yora shook her head. “We lost three people in the attack, and another couple were badly hurt. The good news is Raskos didn’t get anyone alive.”

  Gyre guiltily bit off what he’d been about to say. He’d barely thought twice about the new faces, the tunnelborn Yora had pulled in for security. “I’m sorry,” he managed.

  “Sarah’s all right. She and Nevin were putting the finishing touches on our way into Raskos’ warehouse. But—”

  She stopped for a moment as one of Yevri’s sons approached, a scowling, blue-haired boy in his teens, who set down two bowls of thick, meaty soup. Yora peered at hers suspiciously.

  “House special,” Gyre said. “It’s good.”

  She took a bite and gave a little sigh of pleasure. Gyre grinned and picked up his spoon, and for a few moments they gave the food the attention it deserved. The meat was vulpi, tender and juicy, with a thick glistening layer of fat rising to the top. It reminded Gyre of home, though his mother had never cooked anything so heavily spiced.

  “You were about to tell me the bad news,” he said, when Yora was scraping the bottom of her bowl.

  “We’ve had new information,” Yora said. “Raskos is moving the Core Analytica, shipping it out of the city. We think he’s finally found a buyer.”

  “Plague it,” Gyre said. “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. The information’s solid. So it sinks most of our plans, but it’s also an opportunity. It looks like they’ll be transporting it in a single wagon, with only a couple of guards. The dux doesn’t want to draw attention.”

  “You have to figure he’ll have his people watching the route out of the city, though.”

  “He will. But Nevin and I went over the maps, and we have a plan. He’ll be moving it through Sprayfall Tunnel, and we can block the road behind them, cut off any reinforcements.”

  Gyre frowned. “Getting clear is going to be tough.”

  “Sarah’s on it. She promised me she’d come up with something.”

  “Right.” Gyre went over his mental map of the city, figuring distances. With a little cover from alchemicals, it could work. “When?”

  “Tomorrow.” At his expression, Yora said, “I know, it’s not enough time. But this is our only shot. If he gets the thing away, then Kit’s out of luck, and we’re out fifty thousand thalers.” Her expression went stony. “And Harrow and the others died for nothing.”

  “Then we don’t have much choice, do we?” Gyre looked down into his empty soup bowl, then back up at Yora. “I’ll let Kit know. Send Lynnia the details for the rendezvous.”

  “I will,” Yora said. “Thanks for the meal.”

  “You looked like you could use it.”

  She snorted a laugh and walked away.

  When Gyre returned to Lynnia’s, the old alc
hemist met him at the door, stone-faced.

  “I’m telling you,” she said without preamble. “I won’t be responsible.”

  “Responsible for what?”

  “The consequences!”

  “What con—”

  “Just go talk to her,” Lynnia huffed. “And keep your head down.”

  The alchemist clumped out of the way, and Gyre, puzzled, dropped his coat on a chair and descended the spiral steps to the basement workshop. The air was thick with a purple-gray haze, and one of the stone worktops had been cleared off, then freshly scarred with blast marks. Kit sat in front of it, about to tip a vial of something blue into a bowl of something green.

  “Kit?” Gyre coughed, waving the smoke away.

  She looked up at him with a grin. “I always thought I might have a talent for alchemy.”

  Gyre looked at the bowl. “What are you mixing?”

  “Dunno.”

  “What’s it going to do?”

  “Not sure.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “We’ll find out!”

  “Maybe put the vial down,” Gyre said.

  “Oh, relax. Lynnia keeps the dangerous stuff locked up.”

  “She keeps the expensive stuff locked up. It’s not the same thing.”

  “Spoilsport,” Kit said. She put the vial down with a sigh and yawned. “Just trying to keep myself entertweeee…”

  Gyre crossed the room in time to catch her as she slid off the chair. She flopped against him, giggling, and threw her arms around his neck.

  “Spinning,” she said happily. “Why’re we spinning?”

  “I think you’ve been breathing too much of this stuff.”

  He lifted her, surprised at how little effort it took. Kit leaned on his shoulder, still giggling, as he backed out of the room and brought her upstairs. On the main floor, Lynnia was in the kitchen, stirring something as she fixed them with a baleful glare.

  “Sorry,” Gyre said. “I don’t think she got into anything really terrible, but you should let it air out a little.”

  “Serve her right if she blew her fool head off,” Lynnia muttered.

 

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