The Song of the Dead

by Carrie Patel

  Jane looked surprised to see she still had it. After a brief hesitation, she handed it back.

  “I’ve been making most of this up as I go along,” Malone said, which was the truth. “I let him go because I didn’t want to see him killed. I still don’t. But I also don’t want him used to unleash something awful.” She didn’t know how else to describe the threat of the vault, but Jane seemed to take her meaning.

  “Then we’ve got to hurry. I heard people saying that his airship had been spotted outside of Cologne. Where we’re headed.”

  “That’s why Geist hijacked this train,” Malone said.

  Jane nodded.

  “And that’s where the vault is.”

  She nodded again. “And if Geist found out, then Rothbauer will, too.”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Malone said. And he would bring his own forces and resources, which were likely many times greater than Geist’s. “We’ve got to hurry,” Malone agreed.

  Jane cast a worried eye at the controls. “Can you… manage this?”

  “Close enough,” Malone said. “And I’ve got time to figure it out.”

  Chapter 28

  The Vault

  After a few hours, another ragged skyline appeared on the horizon. To Jane, it looked even more chaotic than Nouvelle Paris’s had, but then again the hours on the locomotive, waiting to arrive and wondering what she’d find, had worn her nerves raw.

  Malone manipulated the various knobs and wheels and slowed the train well before they’d reached the outskirts of the city. “I’m not sure how long it’ll take us to stop,” she admitted. “Besides, I’d rather not have to answer to anyone at the station. Wherever that is.”

  Jane agreed.

  They slid to a halt outside a jumble of low, tumbledown houses that reminded Jane of the factory districts back in Recoletta. No one came to see as they exited the locomotive.

  “Where do you suppose everyone is?” she asked Malone.

  The inspector pressed her lips into a hard line. “If what you heard is true – if Arnault made a scene on his way here – then maybe people went to watch. Or hide.”

  The thought tied knots in Jane’s stomach. She and Malone hurried on, following the tallest towers like beacons.

  The sky grew dim and gray with clouds as Cologne-de-le-Kur constricted around them. They were surrounded by domes, pyramids, and spires when they finally came to an open square and the rapt crowd packed within it.

  Malone froze, tense and ready to bolt. Jane felt a buzz of alarm, too, but this group looked different from the one in Nouvelle Paris.

  “I think it’s okay,” she said. “They don’t seem agitated.”

  Malone frowned at her. “That can change fast.”

  “We don’t even know where we’re headed. Let me just see what’s going on, all right?”

  The inspector sighed. “Fine. Just keep to the fringe.”

  Jane found a man near the back of the crowd. He held a wide-brimmed hat in both hands and watched the sky with eyes full of reverence.

  “Pardon,” Jane said. “Wass is happening here?”

  He kept his gaze fixed on the sky. “The guards obstruct the streets beyond. But it is just apparent.” He pointed to a gap between the buildings. Amongst the low, gray clouds was the unmistakable bulk of an airship.

  “The senure encurves there, the same plass, for many hours,” the man continued.

  “The same… plass?” Jane asked. “Wass is there?”

  “Unter him is the Gran Platz. Mit the monument of the Kur, of course.”

  Jane looked at Malone. “The vault,” she said. The inspector’s eyes were wide with dread.

  A woman standing near them turned to Jane. Hope and joy shone in her face. “He is attending patient. So that the people are gathering for his arrivage.”

  Another man turned, sniffing and shaking his head. “It is a crypted message. An hour for every yar of his absence.”

  Malone spoke up. “You said the guards are clearing the streets?”

  “Ya. Ahead,” the first man said. He had lost interest and was already staring back up at the airship.

  Jane turned back to Malone. “We’ve got to find a way to reach him before the city officials do.”

  Malone nodded. “This way.”

  They sped through the streets, following the beacon of the airship as it vanished and reappeared amidst the buildings. It certainly looked like the one she and Roman had taken from the coast, but then again, most of them looked similar to her.

  “Checkpoint ahead,” Malone said, pointing to a line of guards standing across the road. A few other onlookers milled about, no doubt hoping for a closer glimpse of their savior.

  “There has to be a way around,” Jane said. “They can’t have the whole city covered.”

  “Let’s try a smaller street,” Malone said.

  Unfortunately, Cologne’s streets were just as tortuous as those of Nouvelle Paris. When they finally found one that curved back in the direction of the airship, they found it also blocked with guards.

  “Maybe the next one,” Malone said. “There’s got to be one that’s open.”

  “We don’t have time to keep going in circles,” Jane said. It felt like whatever lead they’d gotten on Geist was evaporating. She considered the guards. There looked to be six or seven of them – enough to span the street with only a carriage’s breadth between them. There were perhaps three or four score civilians loitering in the street ahead of them.

  Enough to overwhelm the guards.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Jane said. “Give me the gun.”

  Malone started back. “You can’t–”

  “I’m not going to shoot anyone,” Jane said.

  Malone raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m going to start a distraction.” She held out her hand.

  Sighing through her nose, Malone handed over the gun.

  It felt heavy, but not as heavy as Jane had remembered it feeling before. She took a deep breath to steel herself, realizing that this could backfire very badly.

  Malone was watching her through slitted eyes, every muscle in her body telegraphing tension. “Put your thumb on the hammer and–”

  “I know what to do,” Jane said, more peevishly than she’d intended. “Just get ready to run.” She pointed the gun into the sky and fired.

  The crowd echoed the gunshot with a chorus of screams. Jane put the gun away and screamed, too, hoping to blend in amidst the general panic.

  Malone just stood there, half-crouched, looking like she was ready to pounce on someone.

  But that didn’t seem to matter. The crowd was already surging forward, pushing past the guards shouting for calm.

  “Let’s go!” Jane said. She took off, threading her way through the panicking mass. She’d always had a knack for blending in and moving unseen, which served her well here. When she reached the head of the swarm, where the guards were still heroically waving and hollering, she darted past them, ducking between flailing arms and legs.

  Over her shoulder, Malone, gangly and built for confrontation, was still struggling to the edge of the crowd. Nevertheless, Jane didn’t dare stop until she’d reached a bend several dozen yards away.

  She was still catching her breath when Malone joined her, panting raggedly.

  “I don’t think anyone was paying any attention to us,” Malone said, jerking her head back toward the street, where others were still fleeing. “Still, let’s take the rest of this more… slowly.”

  Jane nodded as she heaved another deep breath.

  The streets of Cologne-de-le-Kur were eerily quiet. As they walked, Jane noticed flickers of movement behind windows and in the shadows of alleys, but everyone left seemed to be hiding.

  And watching.

  Above and about a mile away, Roman’s airship was still circling.

  “What do you suppose he’s doing?” Jane asked. If this was a distraction, it was certainly an effective one. She wondered if perhaps
that hadn’t been the point after all – to keep people watching the airship while he fled.

  “You’re the one who said he came all this way to destroy the vault,” Malone said.

  She was right. Jane couldn’t imagine Roman going through all this just to abandon it.

  “We didn’t get around to planning specifics,” Jane said.

  Malone gave her a look of quiet judgment.

  Jane shrugged. “We didn’t know what we’d find. Or what our options would be.”

  The inspector snorted. “You hoped you’d just stumble across a few sticks of explosives? Places like that are made to be indestructible. Even Geist said it couldn’t be destroyed by normal means, not without–”

  Malone broke off and stopped dead in her tracks.

  Jane’s mouth felt dry. “What is it?”

  The inspector turned her cold, pale eyes on the airship. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

  Jane looked up, too, and saw the floating behemoth’s nose angled sharply down.

  With a drop in her stomach, she understood that Roman meant to crash it into the vault.

  Malone’s arms were around her before she could take off running. “Let me go!” Jane screamed. “Get off me!”

  “I’m sorry,” Malone said. “There’s nothing we can do.”

  She knew the inspector was right even though she wasn’t ready to accept it. “We can signal to him. We can get to the guards. We can…” But she trailed off as she watched the airship plummet, dipping below the skyline.

  For a brief moment, it vanished entirely, and Jane could hope that it might resurface elsewhere, fading into the horizon.

  Then there was a distant roaring, and a plume of flame rose in the sky.

  The vision blurred, and Jane sobbed against Malone’s sleeve.

  After a while, she became aware of the other woman’s voice. “You did everything you could, Jane.”

  But that wasn’t entirely true. There was still one more thing she could do for Roman.

  “We can make sure that damn vault doesn’t outlive him,” she said, brushing tears from her cheeks.

  After a moment, Malone released her. “Okay. But careful. And quiet.”

  The previously calm streets had erupted in panic. The people who had been hiding now leaned out of windows or fled toward the blockades.

  At least no one would be paying attention to them now.

  They dashed through the winding streets, following the glow of the blaze. Jane tried to prepare herself for what it would look like. She tried to remind herself that whatever happened would have happened quickly.

  Still, when they emerged into a broad square and saw the collapsed, burning scaffolding of the airship, she stopped.

  Whatever had been beneath the airship was now a crushed, smoking ruin, as were the buildings to either side.

  “He’s definitely destroyed… something,” Malone said.

  A moderate crowd had gathered around the site, held back by the heat of the fire. They were talking animatedly among themselves, gesturing at the sky and the wreckage. Jane and Malone approached, and as they did, Jane noticed something strange.

  They didn’t seem to be panicking.

  They were a strange assortment, red-eyed but energetic, dressed in the motley styles of the Continent. Scattered amongst the crowd were a few people in familiar uniforms. Not guards or police, Jane realized, but something else.

  Airship crew.

  Jane tapped the nearest crew member on the shoulder. “Pardon,” she said. “Wass is happening here?”

  “We must attend patient,” the man said. “It–”

  A uniformed woman standing next to him turned and noticed Jane. “Ach, I am recalling you,” she said. “You were voyaging with him.”

  Suddenly, Jane recognized the other woman, too. She was the crew member who had beaten Roman until Jane revealed his identity.

  “He will be most joyous to see you,” the crewwoman said. “So I am hoping.” She turned back to the wreckage with a worried frown.

  “What are you talking–” Jane began, but then Malone grabbed her arm.

  “Look,” the inspector said, pointing at something away from the wreckage.

  Two figures were approaching from the other end of the plaza, talking and clapping each other on the back. One walked with a distinctive limp.

  “Roman!” Jane ran toward him and found her own astonishment and joy mirrored on his face.

  “Jane,” he said, wrapping her up in his arms. He smelled like sweat, smoke, and machine oil, and at that moment, there was nothing so wonderful.

  Jane sobbed, her eyes warm with tears of relief.

  “I’m so sorry for leaving you behind,” he said. “I was coming back, but I had to make sure the vault could never–”

  She kissed him. She felt his surprise, and then his relief, in the movement of his hands on her face, his lips on hers. The truth was that she’d never been more proud of him. The man who had spent a lifetime running from his duty and legacy had finally accepted both on his own terms.

  Jane stepped back and finally noticed the figure standing next to Roman, a man with a voluminous gray mustache. He was politely averting his eyes.

  “Arnault.” Malone’s voice and rapid footsteps rose behind Jane. “I wasn’t expecting to see you after that.”

  Roman blinked at her in shock, then looked to Jane. “Did you two…”

  “We don’t have a lot of time,” Malone said. “Geist’s on our trail, and your uncle’s people won’t be far behind.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Is that the vault? Destroyed for good?”

  Roman’s eyes narrowed. “That was the vault. Now, it is slowly turning to slag and ash. But if you have any doubts, you’re welcome to check yourself,” Roman said with a wry smile.

  “What exactly happened?” Jane asked.

  “We pulled away after the explosions at the Porte Nord mooring. I saw that you were alive and being taken into custody. The crew assured me you would be looked after until I arrived. They were initially determined to take me to another mooring tower, but I convinced them against it.” He hesitated. “I don’t think they would have listened, but the bombs changed the circumstances considerably.”

  “What did you tell them?” Malone asked.

  “I told them the truth,” Roman said. “That the buried cities were no threat to them and that the vault was a great danger. Not all of them believed me, but enough of them did.”

  “The senure made a most impassioned argument,” the mustachioed man said.

  “Didn’t realize you were one for speeches,” Malone said, her arms crossed.

  “I can do what needs doing,” Roman said. “Anyway, I discussed a plan with Captain Vicenzo and his crew. We dropped off most of the passengers just outside the city – a tricky operation under the circumstances, but Vicenzo is an excellent pilot.”

  The mustachioed man bowed.

  “But many of them insisted on coming.” Roman nodded to the crowd, most of whom waited a respectful distance away. “Said they wanted to see history. And help out however they could afterwards.” He paused, watching them with what seemed to be genuine affection. And perhaps a little guilt for allowing them to get caught up in his predicament.

  “So they entered the city on foot while you came in by airship,” Jane said.

  Roman nodded. “And then we circled. The remaining crew parachuted away, but I had to give the city authorities time to clear the area. Not to mention that lining up the approach was challenging with just the two of us.” He glanced to Vicenzo.

  “The senure apprends most rasch,” said the captain.

  “Vicenzo gives me too much credit.” Roman turned and contemplated the burning husk of the airship. In the pale gray morning, with the orange firelight flickering over his face, he looked younger than Jane had ever seen him. “Anyway, the vault is gone, and present company excluded, most people will think I am, too.”

  Vicenzo held a finger to his lips. “We wi
ll maintain the senure’s secret.”

  “Perhaps now we can disappear. Enjoy as many years of quiet as we can manage.” Roman looked at Jane as he spoke, and she felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the blaze nearby.

  “This isn’t over yet,” Malone said. “Rothbauer’s still going to take the Continent to war against the buried cities. Assuming Geist doesn’t carve this place up first.”

  “What do you suggest?” Roman asked, frowning. “Because I’m not getting caught up in another revolution.”

  “This is about your family’s dynasty,” Malone said, color rising in her pale face. “You can’t do nothing.”

  “I can’t do anything,” Roman snarled. “Rothbauer doesn’t need me, he needs a war. An enemy. He’ll attack the buried cities no matter what I say. And if you’re suggesting I aid Geist,” he said, giving her a measured stare, “well, I would hope we both learned our lesson with Sato.”

  “There’s got to be someone else,” Malone said, but even Jane could tell she was grasping at straws.

  “The problem isn’t with these people, it’s with this place,” Roman said, throwing his arms wide. “Their damn obsession with their history. They’ve spent generations building up their walls, sending spies across the sea, preparing themselves for the day when they either wipe out the remnant in the buried cities or are destroyed by it. They call us ‘the Plaguelands,’ Malone. This is the only story these people have ever known.”

  As Jane listened to Roman, her mind wandered back to all the stories she’d heard and told – about the dangers of pre-Catastrophe knowledge, the reasons and ways leaders had seized and lost power – and the way those stories had shaped Recoletta, the farming communes, and the other buried cities.

  It was a humbling thought, that something as simple as a story could change a way of life. But she’d seen it. And when she’d brought the story of Sato’s revolt to the farmers, she’d made it happen.

  She thought back to the book she’d taken from Salvage and its tales of the strange and wonderful things people had built. She still wasn’t sure if it was true, but if it was…

  “What if we gave them a different story?” Jane asked.