by Rob May
‘Your parents would be proud if they could see you now,’ Kal joked as they broke off for air.
‘My father is really, I think. He’s a smith—he even helped fashion some of the metal trimmings here.’ As he talked, Will’s wet hand caressed Kal’s neck and shoulder. ‘My mother is worried about me, though. She wanted me to promise her that if I was going to rob and steal, then I had damn well better do it to help people, and not for personal gain.’
‘And did you promise?’ Kal asked, as she reached below the surface of the water to pull him even closer.
‘I did,’ Will said, as he moved one hand over Kal’s breast and slid the other between her legs. ‘I promised I’d be bad for good.’
III.vi
Spellbound
The midnight bell roused Kal from her doze. Its familiar muffled monotone knell sounded from above the dome of the Basilica and echoed around every corner of the city. The sound was dull and sombre, but it always gave Kal a thrill. For her, the hours after midnight held great potential for excitement and danger. If trouble didn’t find her, then she would find it.
She slipped out of bed and pulled on her leathers. A candle was still burning in Will’s small attic room above the Dead Dog. The King of Thieves himself was still asleep, sheets peeled back from his naked torso which was glistening with beads of sweat. Kal smiled at his defencelessness … then she got on with snooping around his room. Maybe he had some cash lying around that she could help herself to.
The room was almost bare, though. There was a chest overflowing with clothes (and it had no false bottom that Kal could find) and a simple wooden desk and chair. Will probably didn’t even keep any loose change for food, since people in Crab Corner seemed happy to feed him wherever he went.
Kal paused at the door. There was a narrow shelf built just above it, wedged between the rafters of the roof. She reached up and took down an oblong walnut box about six inches long. Inscribed in brass on the lid were two words: Volvunt Ossa.
She flipped the lid. Inside was a row of five intricately-carved bone dice. The face of each was carved like a skull, and the eyes and noses made the spots. Kal lifted one out to admire it, turning it in her fingers.
‘Family heirlooms,’ Will said from the bed. ‘There was a time when the men—and a fair few of the women—in my family were professional soldiers. They invented the game we played last night, Demon Dice. That particular set has been on campaign many times over the years.’
Kal put the box back on the shelf without a word. In situations where she was caught out, she always remembered an old maxim that Ben often resorted to: Never apologise; never explain.
‘Those dice are weighted,’ was all she said.
Will smiled. ‘My family got very rich while sitting around camp waiting for marching orders. They managed to fritter it all away since though. What are you doing up, Kal? We’re not hitting the streets until three. Come back to bed.’
‘I need to go and pick up some stuff,’ she told him. ‘I’ll meet you at the Bower later.’
‘If you like. We’ll be on the roof of the Idole Rouge. It’s the nearest building to the Bower that isn’t owned or controlled by the Peacock. Buy a ticket for the last show, and look for the stairs behind the gallery.’
She nodded. ‘What shows are on at that time of night? Actually, don’t tell me; I think I can guess.’ The Bower was slap bang in the middle of the city’s red light district; streets that Kal usually tried to avoid.
‘Don’t have too much fun if you get there before me,’ she warned Will, kissing him before she stepped out of the room.
* * *
Kal pulled the bell cord outside the lab door. Nim answered almost straight away. ‘Kal!’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s one in the morning!’
‘I know,’ Kal said as she stepped into the basement. ‘You’re still up though. What crazy contraption are you working on now?’ In the centre of the floorspace, surrounded by tools and parts, was Nim’s two-wheeled frame with the leather seat and pedals.
‘It’s called a velocipede,’ Nim explained. ‘You could use it to get around the city in half the time you could in a horse and carriage.’
Kal looked at it doubtfully. ‘Good grief, Nim. You’d have to have legs stronger than a horse to get those wheels moving up Arcus Hill.’
‘No, no, no,’ Nim squealed excitedly. ‘You see, it all comes down to … gears!’
Kal shrugged and went and helped herself to some replacement knives from Nim’s workbench. She found some wire spools for the crossbow, and then picked up and examined a leather holster that contained a short length of flat L-shaped metal, and what looked like a tiny steel firearm, just three inches long. ‘Can I take these?’ she asked.
‘The snap gun? Sure. Anything I put out on that bench is good to go.’ With obvious pride, Nim watched Kal kitting herself out. ‘You know, I ought to give you a key so that you can come and pick up stuff when I’m not here.’
‘And when would that be, exactly?’ Kal joked.
The small girl laughed. ‘I do have a life outside the lab, you know,’ she said. ‘In fact, some of the students I tutor are having a big party tomorrow night.’ Nim played with her short blonde hair nervously. ‘You could come if you finish up whatever it is you’re up to by then.’
‘I’d love to,’ Kal said enthusiastically, before she could remember what went down at the last party she had been invited to. ‘But I won’t be much use to you if we’re sitting down to dinner discussing new innovations in engineering.’
‘Oh, no,’ Nim assured her. ‘The only engineering going on will be arranging the lifting of several beer kegs!’ Nim looked serious all of a sudden. ‘Who are you going after tonight, Kal?’
Kal stopped at the door on her way out. ‘Only the biggest villain in the city. This Peacock that Zeb was going on about might be in league with Viola Witchwood. It’s possible that they might be making a play for absolute power. And also … I think Captain Dogwood might be being bribed to fudge the murder investigation, too. The Senate will crumble against this level of corruption.’
‘Unless you stop it, hey Kal?’
‘Stopping the Peacock and Witchwood will help Will and Zeb. That’s all I care about. Then maybe when Will has the Peacock off his back, and Zeb doesn’t have a trial to worry about, then I can get them both to make up and be friends.’
Nim sniffed. ‘Well, be careful. You know what they say about Witchwood.’
‘No. What?’
Nim looked around, even though they were alone, and came closer to Kal. ‘They say she has powers. Last year, when you were away, she started a scandalous affair with this rich merchant ... but then apparently one night she bewitched him and—’ Nim paused for effect.
‘And? Come on, Nim!’
‘He walked home in some kind of trance and murdered his wife and children. Then he signed over his business to Witchwood, before cutting his own throat. The contract was shown in the Forum, soaked red with blood, but the Senate still declared it legal and binding.’
Kal shuddered. ‘Let’s see her try to bewitch a knife,’ she said.
* * *
Kal tried to look inconspicuous as she walked the streets towards the Bower. She had her weapons and equipment in a bag, and wore a plain, loose shirt over her leathers. She imagined the Peacock and Witchwood had hidden eyes all over the city; it wouldn’t do to let them know she was coming.
Less hidden—in fact, quite the opposite—was another faction that was making its presence felt in the city. General Cassava’s legionaries were on every street corner and outside every public building. They weren’t in armour: the laws of the city stated that no commanding officer was permitted to exercise their power inside the city walls, except on the day of their triumph, when troops were allowed to join the procession and celebrations, but not in uniform.
Cassava’s troops were pushing the boundaries of the law; officially they were doing nothing more than enjoying a nighttime stroll, stopping to c
onverse innocently with their friends. They were all dressed identically in red tunics and black cloaks, their sword blades correctly covered by a scabbard. The bulk of Cassava’s army was still encamped out on the Field of Bones, but Kal estimated that at least a thousand armed men and women were positioned inside the city.
But for what purpose?
Kal headed downtown, past the dark empty shape of the Snake Pit, past the Cathouse (which Cassava’s men seemed especially interested in patrolling) and set her sights on the illuminated facade of the city’s cabaret, the Idole Rouge.
‘Hey you! Get over here now!’
Kal slowed her pace, but not her course, forcing the two soldiers to come to her. ‘Are you Kal Moonheart?’ one of them asked her.
She shook her head innocently. ‘Nope!’
The soldier looked at Kal, then at a scrap of paper on which she could see a rough sketch of a serious-looking girl with freckles and messy hair.
‘Are you sure?’ the soldier said.
‘I think so,’ Kal said. ‘Look, I gotta go—I’m supposed to be in the chorus line in the next show at the Idole!’
The other soldier spoke up on Kal’s behalf. ‘Let her go, mate,’ he said. ‘She can’t be Kal Moonheart. She doesn’t look strong enough to lift the spear of Mena, let alone impale a dragon with it. The general’s looking for a tough warrior, remember?’
Kal was able to slip away. ‘What’s in the bag?’ the first soldier shouted after her.
‘My heels and a wig!’ she yelled back, before waving goodbye and losing herself in the crowds milling around the cabaret. Posters on the walls showed a line of male and female dancers, arm-in-arm, legs kicking above their heads. A gallery ticket for the show cost Kal fifteen shillings (a standing ticket in the stalls cost more than five times that price) and she pushed her way through the busy foyer to the stairs.
She found the unmarked door that led to a fire escape that gave her access to the roof. On a narrow flat section she found Will and some of his gang: his friend Dene, two other lads and a girl that she hadn’t seen at the Dead Dog earlier. They were all gathered around the statue of the god of love and desire, Lovath, who was famed for her blood-red skin.
‘Hey Kal,’ Will said, his face lighting up when he saw her. ‘Dene and the guys have been staking the place out, seeing who has been coming and going. The Peacock never leaves, though; guests are always invited to the Bower for any meetings.’
‘Is Witchwood here?’ Kal asked. ‘No point in wasting our time for just one of them.’
‘Her carriage was seen leaving her house on the the East Bank just before midnight,’ Dene reported. ‘Right now it’s parked outside the home of one of her known lovers in Temple Gardens.’
‘So she’s not here,’ Kal said.
‘Actually, she is,’ Will said with a grin. ‘Witchwood’s carriage was a decoy. An unmarked trap pulled up outside the Bower an hour ago, and the senator climbed out … alone, in a simple grey hooded cloak.’
Kal went to the balustrade and looked out. Across the street was a block of several buildings, including Amaranthium’s biggest brothel, the Cathouse. ‘Which building is the Bower?’ she asked.
‘All of them,’ Will said. ‘The whole block is interconnected, including the Cathouse. I know this because I once … er … because Dene once paid a visit—’
‘Guards?’ Kal asked as she scanned the crowds in the busy streets below.
‘There are three men up on the roof,’ one of the thieves supplied. ‘They’ve just been walking round and round the perimeter all night. There’s one of them now, carrying a bow. Don’t worry about Cassava’s soldiers over there; they’re only here for the … nightlife.’
‘Three guards can’t cover all four sides of the block at once,’ Kal reasoned. ‘I’d only need a small window of opportunity to cross the street.’ She took out her pistol crossbow and cocked the bolt. ‘This time,’ she told Will, ‘you’re not getting a ride.’
‘When you get in, see if you can open a door on the opposite side,’ he suggested. ‘The doors have no locks; they must all be barred internally.’
The wide street was a hundred yards across: Kal could see now how the Bower was a veritable fortress: hidden in plain sight, set apart from the surrounding streets, and with surprisingly few ground floor doors and windows. She set herself against the balustrade and aimed at the top jamb of an opposite window. She picked one that was dark and curtained: hopefully, nobody would be in the room, and the curtains would deaden the sound of smashed glass.
‘You’re clear,’ the other girl told her.
Kal shot her bolt. The second it hit, she looped her end of the wire around a chimney stack behind her, gave Will a brief wave, and jumped off into thin air. The cable went taught, but this time it held. Kal shot across the busy street, a black shadow in the darkness above the glow of the street lighting. Her boots hit the window opposite, and she punched through it, her body slipping through the gap between the curtains.
She landed on her feet, arms out for balance, pupils dilating to take in her new surroundings. She relaxed as her eyes adjusted to the gloom; she was in a dark library. The walls of books would have helped muffle the sound of her entrance.
Kal took a couple of sulfer sticks from her pocket and rubbed them together to produce a flame. She lit the two oil lamps that stood either end of a table in the centre of the library. The darkness retreated, revealing the Peacock’s collection of books.
Kal was amazed. No wonder Witchwood and the crime boss got on so well.
Every shelf in every bookcase was jammed with arcane works: spellbooks, heavy tomes with mysterious runes on the spine, grimoires and fantastical bestiaries. Parchments inked with pentacles and other strange sigils were unrolled and displayed on the walls behind glass frames.
Kal could almost feel the electric sizzle of magic in the room.
III.vii
The Green-Eyed Monster
Magic! Even the smell of it hung in the air of the library: the sharp metallic tang of the enchanted inks; the alien scents of the rare beast hides that provided the leather bindings. Kal picked up a heavy volume that had been left on the centre table: The Encyclopaedia of Erotic Enchantments. Senator Viola Witchwood was known to be a wily seductress, so was this her reference book? Kal turned to a random page; her eyes widened at the illustrations within. I need to show this to Will, she thought. She flicked the page over. Her mouth dropped open. Or perhaps not!
The next book on the pile was called The Power of Symbols. Kal opened it at a page marked by a strip of thin pink leather. The tongue of a basilisk, maybe, or the tail of a parvicursor: something rare and exotic, she guessed. When she moved the bookmark to one side, she froze.
The symbol illustrating the page was the same symbol that she had seen burned into Senator Grey’s chest: the clenched fist, surrounded by a ring of flames. Kal’s first thought was, Grey’s murder was a ritual killing … a magical ritual! She went on to read the lines of text underneath the symbol:
The flaming fist was the personal crest of Feron Firehand during the revolution of 505. During the formative years of the Republic, Firehand would personally carry out the executions of enemies of the state by branding them with the symbol. To use the brand today is to invoke the restless spirit of Amaranthium’s greatest leader.
Kal heard a noise outside the door. She put the book down and slipped behind a nearby bookshelf. The library door opened, and a man stepped inside—a guard, dressed in worn leathers, with a green tabard decorated with the silhouette of a pouncing cat. Kal held her breath, but the man didn’t seem interested in checking the room. If he had, he might have noticed the smashed glass beneath the curtains where Kal had entered.
Instead, the guard turned the key in the door behind him, went straight to the centre table and picked up The Encyclopaedia of Erotic Enchantments. Kal couldn’t believe it; with his back to her and both hands occupied, he presented one of the easiest targets she had ever had the ple
asure to deal with. In two quick bounds, she crossed the library and wrapped her forearm around the man’s neck, pressing her bone against the artery in his neck. The second he dropped to the floor, she released her grip. It was a fine line between unconsciousness and death, but Kal had plenty of practice at the sleeper hold: the guard was quite safe in her hands.
‘Just stay there and have a little rest,’ she whispered to him. ‘Dream about …’—she glanced at the page he had been absorbed in—‘the magic starfish. Eeuww!’
Kal dragged him out of sight. She considered donning his guard uniform, but thought better of it. That gambit had never worked in the past—in fact, she was less likely to arouse suspicion as a random stranger, than as an unfamiliar face in a familiar uniform. Kal unlocked the door and stepped through into a larger room that was also lined with books, and furnished with comfortable leather chaise lougues and reading chairs. A giant wall-to-ceiling mirror served to double the scope of the room. The works shelved here were mainly histories and atlases, although Kal did spot a collection of one of Amaranthium’s newest forms of literature: the novel.
She picked one up at random: Swords of the Silver Sea: a fabulous tale of adventure in far-flung lands. The lurid illustration on the cheap cardboard cover showed a muscular sailor with a cutlass fending off a sea-monster, while a half-naked girl screamed and struggled as tentacles wrapped around her. It looked exciting. Kal dropped the book in her bag next to the items she had brought from Nim’s. She could rarely get any sleep when she got home after a mission like this, so something diverting to read was always welcome.
Kal thought someone was watching her, but it was only her reflection in the mirror. Why did stealing even the smallest thing make her feel guilty? Was it because that, unlike Crab Corner’s hero of the needy, Will Straightarrow, Kal would just as soon steal from a careless shop keeper than she would a wealthy crime boss. She stuck her tongue out at her disapproving reflection, and looked for a way out of the room.