SIXTEEN: Three Rules, Always
Yasi looked up as the hatch on the Oubliette opened. Owen looked down at her. She smirked at the irony, despite herself. Their positions had reversed; she the prisoner now, and him the smug jailer. "Well. Here we are again." She said blandly.
Owen nodded, amused by a similar thought. "Apparently. Can you climb?" He threw down a rope.
Yasi watched it like it was a dangerous snake. Owen said nothing, content to wait, until Yasi uncoiled herself and started to climb the rope painfully. He didn't offer to help her; and she was glad for it. Asking Vandark for help had been crushing; asking Owen too would be more than she could bear.
On their way out of the Dungeons, she found that Vandark had been busy. "How long was I down there?"
"Two days." Owen reported.
Yasi was stunned. "Two days?" In an oubliette, a cell dark enough that you were unable to see the nose in front of your face, virtually soundproof... it was impossible to measure the passage of time.
The last two days and nights had been kinder to the Underside than Yasi would have expected. Riverfolk roamed freely, apparently having the run of the place. It was still as crowded and as busy as ever.
But there was a difference now. The Lostkind that she could see had lost something. Lost their… joy. There was no music playing, no dancing on the steps. The Lostkind were shuffling past each other in the narrow streets, going to and from without looking up. It was almost like being back on the surface during Rush Hour.
Their eyes were on her again. She supposed she was imagining the accusations, but she still felt their blame wash over her. It's your fault Yasi. She sighed silently in her mind. You could have stopped this eight different ways; but you were so sure you could handle it all by yourself.
Owen led her through the Secret City; and Yasi took the opportunity to look around tactically. The debris and damage of the battle had been cleared away; but the hangings and destroyed doors had not been replaced. Scorch marks were still visible all over the walls and floors; but the walkways and the Stairs had all been cleared. The Market was operating again.
Yasi felt a numb dread spread over her. "The Labyrinth?"
Owen nodded. "We reopened it. Vandark declared that Lostkind that lived here shouldn't be left starving any longer than they should; though you certainly made it difficult for us."
Yasi's face hardened at the way he put that; as though it was her fault people had died. "If you were so worried, you could have come at us with pizza instead of swords, Invader."
Owen didn't bother to respond to that. Yasi's hands were opening and closing at the sight of the Riverfolk making their way around without challenge. They were the only ones carrying weapons. There was no sign of the surviving Wildmen.
Of course. Yasi thought to herself. Vandark will keep his own close by as a personal guard.
The Lostkind didn't seem to be under any duress; but they wouldn't look the Riverfolk in the eye. One or two sent her a hopeful glance, but looked down again quickly.
"I could just kill you." Yasi said tightly to Owen. "I may not have beaten Vandark, but you'd take less than two seconds."
Owen continued to lead her along, not at all concerned. "We have the run of the Underside. If there's anything in here that you care about; we have it."
Yasi didn't bother to respond; she already knew that, and she wasn't really interested in playing threatening games with Vandark's flunky. She followed him up a few levels; astounded at how much repair work had been done. The hallways were cleared out; and on the surface; all was as it had been before the attack.
"Hold up." Owen stopped her as they reached the lowest Market Level. "You know the rules; largest cargo gets right of way."
Yasi watched in disbelief as the Borrowers filed past, their packs piled high again. Just like a week before.
Here and there, Yasi could see the Gremlins' artwork. It showed the fighting; the bodies; and people repairing the Underside back to what it was.
How is it possible? Yasi asked herself in disbelief. How is it possible a war was fought here two days ago and nothing changed?
But the more they walked, the less Yasi cared; because Owen was taking her to the Chapel. The differences were obvious here. The wounded were still being treated.
The Healers wandered between the cots, helping where they could. The Wildmen were here; getting treated alongside the Shinobi, but they were sitting up in their cots; keeping watch.
One or two of them glared at Yasi the second she entered the room; and she had no problem glaring right back. "Remember me?"
The Wildmen looked at her savagely. They remembered vividly.
Yasi turned from them and saw two Healers standing over a cot at the far end, wearing their full Bird-Masks. They didn't seem to be doing much, giving them the appearance of human-sized vultures standing over the patient. Owen gestured for her to go there, and Yasi felt her heart lurch.
~oo00oo~
Vincent was flipping through old sewer maps when his phone rang. "Hello?"
"I got good news, and bad news." Connie reported. "The good news is that I was able to track down all the parts you need. I couldn't find working cameras, but I was able to get in touch with an enthusiast of sorts who was able to name the brand of camera from the description you gave me. He gave me a set of blueprints, and a list of the parts you'll need. I found them all."
"Connie, you're a miracle worker." Vincent sighed in relief. "And the bad news?"
"Shipping is going to be a problem. I'm willing to pay it out, but at best it'll take six weeks to get it all here."
"Six weeks!" Vincent exclaimed. "Is that all?"
"Hey, I can't force US Postal to deliver stuff faster." She took a breath. "There's another option. I can order the parts for pickup, but that would mean going out to each person, and some of them are three states away. With you and Gill working on the transmitter, and me keeping Tecca from leaving with a whip and a chair..."
Vincent rubbed his eyes a moment. "Drew."
"Drew." Connie confirmed.
"Yasi's gonna kill me."
"If you're lucky." Connie agreed. "The three of them usually have lunch together. I'll find out where they're nesting today and text you the details."
~oo00oo~
Keeper's eyes opened slowly as Yasi approached, and a smile crossed her blackened face. "You're alive." She murmured. "I thought for sure he wouldn't let you live once…" She drifted a moment, and fought her way back to clarity. "How is it out there?"
"Amazingly normal." Yasi said quietly, signaling the Healers to give them space. "If it wasn't for the damned Riverfolk walking around you'd think it was just a quiet day."
"How quiet?"
"Dead silence." Yasi admitted. "It looks normal, but nobody's even looking at each other if they can avoid it."
Keeper glanced about. "Kamy came to see me. The Gremlins were routed the day after the Invasion. They haven't been hurt, but Vandark wants to know where they are at all times. The Labyrinth was reopened first; and he started sending the Borrowers back out."
"They all came back?" Yasi was surprised.
"They can't leave everyone else down here to go hungry. Where else have they got to go?" Keeper yawned, starting to drift again. "I don't know what he wants Yasi… But so far the only people he's hurt are the ones who fight back. He's playing this so perfe..." Keeper drifted off to sleep before finishing the sentence.
"What do I do?" Yasi whispered to her unconscious mother. "The war is over, and we lost, and nobody's being hurt or oppressed. What do I do?"
A shadow fell over them; and Yasi's shoulders straightened. She didn't need to turn. She could feel it like electricity in the air. "Vandark."
The new Lord of the Underside stood behind her casually. "The Healers tell me that she'll make a full recovery. So will most of my people. More than I thought would. Your Healers are to be commended. Can you imagine what they would do with full modern hospital supplies?"
&nb
sp; Yasi almost let that one go. "Can you imagine how quick they'd get caught out, trying to ‘borrow' some?"
Vandark rested his hands on her shoulders, almost against her neck. "Don't hate me Yasi, things are going to get better around here soon. Beauty grows back."
Yasi seethed, hating his hands on her, unable to do anything about it. "Why am I alive?" She demanded.
"Because I have elected not to kill you both." Vandark said. "I know how tricky Lostkind can be. I'm one myself. If this was happening to me, I'd have some kind of safety net. A wild card in the back pocket, just waiting for the right moment."
Yasi said nothing.
"So, until I know for sure that I'm secure here, it's best to keep a prisoner as insurance." Vandark said, like he was discussing a to-do list. "Someone the people here will respect, care about... Someone that will quell any unrest, until such time as I manage to make the general population loyal to me. Two of you is dangerous. It allows the possibility of conspiracy, or rebellion."
Yasi ignored his touch on her shoulders, reached out to hold Keeper's motionless hand.
"Yasi, the more I see of this place, the more I wish I'd come in five years ago." Vandark said casually. "You know that half the Gremlins are eating out of garbage cans?"
"Don't try and tell me things are going well." Yasi hissed, keeping her voice low for Keeper's sake. "Look around! You've ruined it! You've killed it! You ruined the Underside."
"No, Yasi. I'm changing it. Transformation is a dangerous process sometimes." Vandark slid his hand down her arm, threading his fingers through hers powerfully. "Come with me. I want to show you why I'm doing this."
~oo00oo~
Drew looked over the list. "So, just to be clear. You need obscure, worthless bits of junk gathered immediately, brought to New York and slapped together into fifty year old versions of things that are freely and easily available on every street corner in the western hemisphere; you need it in full working order, and laid out in a dusty archives room; to the precise specifications that you found on the Internet; in a hundred year old blueprint of a stage magicians set design."
"That's it exactly." Vincent confirmed. Once he'd entered the Diner, he had no trouble locating Drew. He was sitting at a table with Benji and Tony; and there were five plates of food on the table for three people. He'd taken a seat with them and quickly explained what was needed; but not why.
"And... why exactly would I want to take a week off work to go on a roadtrip for this?" Drew demanded. "Have you ever been locked in a car with Benji and Tony for a long drive?"
"Drew, you'd know I'd never inflict your closest friends on you if it wasn't really important." Vincent said honestly. "I'm not cruel; and Connie says that Benji always sticks his head out the window on long car rides anyway..."
Tony glanced over at Benji. "They know we can hear them right?"
Benji nodded his head up and down rapidly. "Uh-huh." He leaned forward. "Vincent, what do you need the cameras for? You could just get a webcam."
"Not for this broadcast we can't." Vincent said absently. "I'd do this myself, but me and Gill have to work out some details..."
"Is this about the buried treasure?" Benji demanded excitedly.
"The what-now?" Drew reacted.
Tony jumped up. "There's buried treasure involved? I'm in."
Drew glared at Vincent. "Oh. Good. Excite them." He said tightly; pointing a finger in his face. "We get back with your junk; you're going to tell me what the hell is going on, and if I am not satisfied with the story, I will do something bad to you." He grabbed his jacket and let out a 'hey-taxi' whistle. "Come on boys. Road trip."
"So, what's Connie doing while we're all on a scavenger hunt?" Tony asked blandly as they all headed out of the diner.
Vincent sighed. "She's... got another assignment." He said shortly.
~oo00oo~
Tecca woke up with a light moan. "How long was I asleep?"
"Most of the night." Connie reported from the other end of the couch; not looking away from her laptop. "Listen, one way or another, you're stuck up here for a while. I get that you hate that feeling, but I was thinking... it doesn't have to be terrible. There are a few things you've probably never been able to do before."
Tecca was still rubbing his eyes. "Like what?"
"Well, for instance, there's ice-cream."
Tecca blinked. "Ice Cream? What's that?"
Connie smiled. "I'm glad you asked."
~oo00oo~
Dickie Bricks stared at the board as Checkov grinned at him, patient. "You can stare at the board all you want. The Rook is your only legal move."
Dickie kept looking, undeterred. "There's a way out."
"Find it, would you?" Checkov countered. "You've been staring at the board for over an hour and I am losing the will to live."
"My evil plan is working." Dickie grinned. "Concede the game and I'll let you go."
"Let him have it." A familiar voice put in. "For a dollar in dimes, it's not worth staring at the board all night."
Checkov looked up from the board as Vincent came over. "Haven't seen you for a while."
"Been busy." Vincent conceded. "Dickie, a few years ago; I helped you and your friends out. You said you owed me one, and I told you to forget about it." Vincent drew a slip of paper from his pocket. "I take it back; because I need your help."
Checkov and Dickie traded a look.
Putting the paper between them, Vincent quickly sketched out the Lostkind Marks from memory; the ones that reminded him of Yasi's tribal tattoos. Vincent had only seen a few; used to mark the entrances to the Labyrinth. "I want you guys to spread out, and find these marks. As many of them as you can."
Checkov gave the glyph a calculating look. "I have seen these before."
"So have I." Dickie rasped with open worry. "Vincent, you don't want to get into this. The city has marks everywhere. Gang signs, graffiti tags... this mark." He tapped it with one dirty finger. "This mark is dangerous."
Vincent nodded somberly. "I know. But I have to do this; and you guys are my best chance. Find all the ones you can. In a day or two, I'm going to bring you a list of places to look that you might not think of. Go to everyone that might help."
"What does it mean, Vincent?" Checkov asked softly. "What does the mark mean?"
Vincent went silent for a long while before answering. "It means... there's still hope."
~oo00oo~
Tecca was actively moaning in delight as he shoveled another spoonful into his mouth.
Connie smiled at him. "Glad you like it. Y'know the best ice cream in the world is Italian gelato. There's a café in Italy that I like to go to whenever I'm in Europe." Her voice dropping seamlessly into 'warm storyteller' mode. "The creaminess just dissolves through your mouth and carries the flavor so that it melts into you with each taste." Connie smiled at him. "Still, no matter how glorious ice-cream is, it's always better with a little chocolate topping."
~oo00oo~
Yasi was not taken back to the Dungeons. Vandark was escorted by three Wildmen wherever he went, but they stayed mostly out of earshot. Vandark had no apparent fear when it came to wandering around the Underside.
The Riverfolk were deferential to him. They did everything he told them to do; even when he went down to the Seven Steps and set up the stalls all over again. What had been torn down by his forces a few days before, was rebuilt by the Riverfolk in less than an hour.
Yasi was struck most by the silence. The Lostkind were everywhere; as usual; but not one of them was talking. They were milling around, like cardboard cut-outs of people trying desperately to play it cool. But Yasi knew they were all watching.
Vandark stepped back after finishing up the repairs to one of the stalls, and looked across the crowd. "When I came here; the people here were living off things stolen from dumpsters. Look around; look up. You have the run of the greatest city in the world; and you don't care. More money goes through this city than most countries; and you don't care.
Five star restaurants; power and fame; and you don't care. Late at night, you listen to echoes of the greatest music ever written; played by the greatest musicians ever assembled. You should be sitting up there in the front row. At the very least; you should be living like people. Nobody should be eating out of dumpsters. Nobody should be wearing clothes stolen from five random strangers. You deserve better than that!"
Even as he was speaking; the Borrowers were filing along the Seven Steps, bringing their cargo. Vandark himself claimed the first load and began spreading it out. It was food. Not in foil or Tupperware containers like it had always been before. This food was coming in large pots, still steaming. The Riverfolk were quick to assemble burners to warm it up; stack after stack of food boxes were brought to the stalls.
"No trade, no barter, no price!" Vandark declared; his voice carrying in the unusual silence. "It is a gift. A taste of things to come. I came here because my own Underside refused when I made them this offer. Up Above; this food would be slated for judges, lawyers, millionaires and congressmen. The output of the finest five-star caterers in New York City will feed your children tonight. It is exceptional; and it is no less than you all deserve!"
And despite herself Yasi, could feel her stomach growl. A thousand world class meals were being laid out before them; and she hadn't eaten in two days.
Yasi could sense the Lostkind looking at her, waiting to see what she did. Vandark peeked at her over his shoulder as he personally set out the food; and held the bowl out to her. She felt sick. Vandark had kept her hungry for exactly this moment. He wanted her starving enough to pounce on the food he gave her, because once she did, none of the Lostkind would refuse what Vandark was giving them.
The silence hung in the air, and suddenly it was all Vandark and Yasi: One hungry, the other offering beautiful food; and a thousand eyes waiting for a decision, waiting for permission.
Vandark's face softened after an endless moment, and he picked up two plates. "I understand. You don't trust me. I don't blame you. If it makes things easier on you; we will step out; and leave you to eat in peace." He returned her gaze to Yasi. "Won't we, Yasi?"
The Lostkind Page 38