The 7th of London

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The 7th of London Page 25

by Beau Schemery


  “You really should be careful down there, Seven. There’s a reason the people who built this place sealed off those ruins.”

  “I’m sure me and Jack can manage,” Sev answered.

  “Hmph. I’m still not convinced he’s totally on our side,” Kettlebent said, suspicion thick in his voice. “He may be even more of a threat.”

  “Silas, ye really don’t have t’worry about Midnight. Fer whatever reason, he’s taken a shine t’me.” Sev thought he knew why, though. Because Midnight saw something familiar in Sev, something he might recognize from within himself. “He won’t hurt me. Not any time soon, anyway.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Kettlebent answered with a small sigh. “For now, let’s just enjoy the night. Your team will have an early start tomorrow.” Sev nodded with a smile, found the mechanical fingers of Kettlebent’s outer-skeleton hand, and traced the appendage until he clung to the crook of Silas’s flesh and bone elbow. Their conversation turned to lighter subjects as they headed for Silas’s apartment, where they shared a simple dinner that Sev prepared while Silas removed his outer-skeleton. After eating, they drank brandy and discussed the tasks before them. Sev curled into the crook of Silas’s arm and promptly fell asleep in the larger boy’s embrace. Silas pressed a kiss in Sev’s hair and leaned back, allowing his sleeping friend’s rhythmic breathing to lull him into slumber as well.

  18

  SILAS walked Sev to the entrance to the ruins where Muriel, Annie, Rat, and several other children awaited them. Silas had left his Kettlebent disguise behind since no outside eyes were present. Muriel busied herself packing provisions and weapons onto a small cart with excavation tools. Annie and Rat were filling lanterns with oil.

  “Be careful in there,” Silas told Sev. “We honestly can’t predict what you’ll find in addition to what you’re looking for.”

  “I’ll say.” Sev walked up to the enormous hinged door, not unlike that of a bank vault, and ran his hand along the complex locking mechanism. “Judging by the size o’this door, we might be in fer quite a challenge.”

  Most of the gathered party wore simple traveling clothes. Sev had opted to wear his metal-reinforced waistcoat and a pair of gloves. Rat, of course, had on his tatty top hat. Sev inspected the weapons, mostly swords and pistols. Nothing fancy, but definitely functional and in good repair. A whistle drew his attention, and he turned to see Midnight arrive with Kildeggan. The villain walked right up to Silas and grasped his upper arm, testing the firmness of the muscle. “My, my, my, and who is this fine specimen?” he asked. Silas shrugged out of Midnight’s grip with a dark scowl.

  “Mr. Midnight, don’t you recognize our Mr. Kettlebent?” Heph asked, smirking at the surprise evident on Jack Midnight’s face.

  “It isn’t even,” Jack gasped and closed one eye and then the other, examining Silas.

  “I assure you it is, Mr. Midnight,” Silas confirmed snidely.

  “Well, it’s certainly the same cantankerous attitude,” Midnight agreed. “But where’s the, ah—” The sound he made was strange and growly in an attempt to mimic Kettlebent’s vocalizer. “—voice?” he finished.

  “I left it on my bedside table.”

  “Ah. Interesting.” Jack clapped his gloved hands together, and Sev finally took a good look at the man. His clothes were crisp and pressed. He’d abandoned his topcoat, and his collar was open with no cravat. He wore a leather waistcoat similar to Sev’s and a pair of thick black leather gloves that reached nearly to his elbows. The rest of his attire was the same as usual: pressed black pinstriped pants and his shiny hobnails. The only other addition—and Sev guessed it was always there, but he just hadn’t seen it—was a harness holding the villain’s knives. Sev wasn’t surprised to see that Jack’s hair was impeccably coiffed, though he was a little surprised that the villain had refreshed his eye makeup. Sev wondered if Midnight always carried it.

  “Are we ready?” Sev interrupted the tension materializing between Silas and Jack.

  The latter turned merrily toward Sev. “I think we are, Seven.” Midnight patted Sev’s shoulder as he strode past.

  “Hold on a moment,” Carrington called as he ran toward them. He clung to a sheaf of paper. “Wait there. Wait!”

  “What is it, old boy?” Heph asked. Carrington heaved great gulps of air. “What’s this?” Heph removed the paper and unfolded it.

  “Map,” Carrington gasped. “I’ve done a bit of research, and I’ve found this map of the ruins.”

  “It’s not very detailed,” Midnight observed as he regarded the map over Heph’s shoulder.

  “It’s the best I could do,” Carrington told him. “Lay it out here. See this?” He pointed to what appeared to be a main tunnel running up the center of the map. “When you enter, this is where you’ll be. By my research and calculations, if you follow it to the third tunnel on the left and follow that until it terminates, you should find yourself in the L’amurean armory. The Tear of Purity will most likely be in an ebony chest with blood sigils on the outside. Its nature should ensure that nothing has disturbed it and most likely the armory itself. What happens in between is anyone’s guess.”

  “There’s nothing in your research that might give us some clue what to expect?” Muriel asked.

  “There are mentions of things.” Carrington said the last word with trepidation. “Beasts. Monsters. Lost souls. The translations are unclear. But something calls the ruins home. The area used to be, for lack of a better term, the religious district. There were houses of worship to various elder deities until something of an indeterminate nature happened.”

  “Things. Unclear translations. Indeterminate nature?” Midnight groaned. “Delightful. Why can’t these awful old civilizations just come out and say, ‘It’s a great big bloody lion-man-squid, and you need to stab it in the face with silver and then light the remains on fire’? It’s always vagaries and nonsense.”

  “There’s nothin’ for it,” Sev stated pragmatically. “It is what it is, and we have t’make do. So let’s get on with it.”

  “Oh, very well.” Midnight waved a dismissive hand.

  “Good luck, my friends,” Heph offered as he bid them farewell. “Open it up, Carrington.”

  The old man obeyed, twisting dials until various pictograms were aligned in the proper order. The company lined up, bearing their lanterns and waiting for the portal to open. When Carrington finished his ministrations, a grinding of gears sounded from within.

  “We’re going to seal the door behind you,” Heph informed them, “but there will be a watch posted round the clock waiting for your return.”

  They heard an ominous grinding clang as the door finally unlocked and the round portal rolled into a recess carved in the black stone. Warm air poured out of the portal, carrying the stench of carrion. Sev hadn’t smelled anything so awful even at the slaughterhouses and tanneries of Blackside.

  “Shouldn’t it be colder in there?” Annie asked. “Why’s it warm?”

  “Decomposition gives off heat,” Carrington stated. Sev hoped the old fellow didn’t realize how disturbing that would sound to the explorers.

  “Fantastic.” Midnight rolled his eyes. He bowed and gestured to the door. “Ladies first,” he said to Muriel. When she didn’t move, he straightened up. “So much for proper manners. Seven, I’ll take point. We’ll keep Murry and the children between us?”

  “Suits me,” Sev agreed. Midnight nodded and entered the gaping maw of pitch blackness. Muriel went in next, apprehensively, holding her lantern aloft. Rat, Annie, and the other children followed, trailing the cart. “We’ll see ye when we see ye,” Sev addressed Silas and the other men before he slipped into the humid darkness. He heard the door roll roughly back into place behind him. It locked loudly, and he was all too aware of the circle of light cast by his lantern.

  SEV walked behind his group, constantly on edge as they eased their way deeper and deeper into the ruins of the underground city. One hand held his lantern while the othe
r remained on his gun. His skin was constantly prickling with the expectation of trouble. Sev may have thought the original features of the outer city peeking through were disturbing, but the distorted, bizarre decorations that the light of his lantern highlighted periodically were instantly maddening, and he tried very hard not to focus on the carved atrocities. He wondered what kind of civilization could tolerate, let alone venerate, the things he accidently caught glimpses of along the way.

  They passed an archway guarded by two clawed, crab/lobster men carved from the midnight stone. The lanterns glinted on red jewels set into the stone where the beastmen’s eyes would be. The depictions of those monstrosities were too believable, too accurate. It reminded Sev of the Greek statues from the British museum. They were believable representations of humans, but a little too accurate, too perfect. It wasn’t lost on Sev that those ideals of humanity were carved in white marble and these things that might be the natural opposites were carved in rock as black as night.

  The group walked in relative silence. Once in a while one would warn another of an uneven step or a bit of crumbled wall, but there was no easy conversation, no humor or camaraderie. It was like the darkness of these tunnels had infused their moods. Sev refused to relax, constantly scanning the dark outskirts of the lantern light for anything that might threaten his group. He reviewed Carrington’s map, mentally trying to relate the drawing to the actual space. They’d been walking for hours, and Sev was certain they were only about halfway to their destination. When they stopped, they darkened all the lanterns but one, sitting it in the middle of their group, ensuring that no stray light made it to the foul architecture. They ate a small, uncooked meal of preserved meat and fruit, sharing a bottle of light red wine. Sev was no connoisseur. He guessed it was some kind of Burgundy, but he could be totally off. It may have been something Muriel fermented herself.

  It wasn’t a large meal, but most of the group felt lethargic with even that scarce amount of food in their bellies. They reclined in the tunnel focusing on the light at the center of their gathering. Clive, one of the other young boys, was talking nervously, whispering about unrelated topics in an attempt, Sev suspected, to calm his own nerves, but the boy was getting on Sev’s. Annie scooted over toward him.

  “Clive’s a bit on edge,” she stated unnecessarily. “He ain’t, though.” She pointed to Midnight, who sat silently with his eyes closed. Sev was certain the man wasn’t sleeping.

  “Jack isn’t an easy one t’shake. He’s a tough nut t’crack, Dove.” Sev pulled one knee up and rested his arm on it.

  “That’s good, because I’m worried, Sev. I’ve heard sounds.”

  “What manner o’sounds?” Sev asked, sitting up. He was concerned that he hadn’t noticed anything.

  “I don’t know. Scratchin’. Like animal claws on stone. I might be imaginin’ it, if you ain’t heard it.”

  “I’m not about t’take that chance,” Sev reassured her. “I’m goin’ t’talk t’Jack.”

  “I’m glad ye’re here, Sev.”

  “Me too, Dove. That way I can keep an eye on ye.” He pecked a kiss on her temple and then stood, walking over to where Midnight sat and dropping down next to him.

  “Seven,” he said without opening his eyes. “Do we have a problem?”

  “Ye heard Annie and me talkin’, then?”

  Midnight nodded. “Despite Clive’s continuous commentary. And she’s right; I’ve heard it as well. Or them, I should say.”

  “Them?”

  Midnight nodded again. “At least twice as many as our little group. I think they’re watching us to determine whether we’re dangerous or not.”

  “I don’t like this. Should we push on t’the armory?”

  “I’m not sure,” Midnight said, finally sitting up and opening his eyes. “I’m concerned if we start to move faster, it will spur them to attack.”

  “But if we don’t, we’re a much easier target,” Sev added.

  “So you realize my dilemma.” Midnight stood. “Did it suddenly get much quieter?”

  Sev cocked his head, listening. “Clive stopped talkin’.” Sev searched the little group. “Where’s Clive?” he asked.

  “He needed t’make water,” Rat explained, hooking his thumb over his shoulder. As if on cue, a blood-curdling scream issued from the area Clive had disappeared to.

  “Damn it,” Midnight bit out. “Get the weapons. Quickly.” No one spoke, just ran to the cart to grab swords and guns. “Get a light over there.”

  Sev obeyed, training a beam of light from the lantern. Annie retched, and one of the other girls actually vomited when the light fell on the swarm of black-green-skinned creatures feasting on Clive’s still warm flesh. Even though the poor boy still lived, something had torn his throat, so the only sound he made was a terrified gurgling noise.

  To everyone’s credit, no one screamed when the first of the humanoid creatures looked toward them, milky orbs wide and their crooked yellow teeth bared menacingly. They continued to tear pieces off Clive with fingers that didn’t so much end in claws but in bone that had been long stripped of flesh. They almost looked like the corpses of men—the major difference being that these corpses were moving.

  “What d’we do, Jack?” Sev whispered, earning a hiss from one of the creatures.

  “Rat, get Murry and the children to the armory,” Midnight ordered in a whisper.

  “I ain’t leavin’ ye t’fight these things on yer own,” Rat whispered defiantly.

  “Me either,” Annie agreed, pulling her stark black hair up and tying it.

  “It looks like you’re being overruled, Mr. Midnight,” Muriel observed as she drew twin pistols from holsters on her hips.

  “Apparently,” he conceded. His knives were in his hands, and he was smiling. “Fire at will, kiddies.” Gunshots echoed in the cavernous ruins. Pieces of the creatures were punched from their bodies with flying lead. Rasping growls issued from their throats as they abandoned what was left of Clive to charge at their attackers. They didn’t move like Sev imagined corpse-men would move. They were lithe, almost graceful, leaping about like organ-grinder’s monkeys. Sev aimed his pistol, and one of the milky eyes on the closest creature exploded as the bullet passed through it into the thing’s head. It dropped like a stone.

  “Aim fer the heads!” he called to the others. Another beast got a bit too close, and Midnight leaped forward, slashing his knives in twin arcs in front of his chest, separating the creature’s head from its neck.

  “That’s working,” Midnight giggled.

  It was indeed. The children and Muriel fought well, and the beasts were dropping. The ones that had been only shot in the head eventually rose again. The group finally had to dispatch the monsters by removing the heads. They were close enough now that Sev could see the strange orange pustules that dusted the beasts’ rotten-looking skin. Some of the creatures had patchy wisps of hair. Their lips were cracked and dry. They smelled like carrion, and their blood was thick and black. Annie screamed. Sev turned to see one of the creatures biting into her shoulder. Rat reacted first, placing the barrel of his pistol against the thing’s temple and pulling the trigger. The creature flew off onto its back, and its head was quickly severed by Midnight’s knife.

  Jack finished his deadly dance, carving through the awful creatures as Muriel and Rat tended to Annie’s injury. “How is she?” Sev asked, inspecting the wound.

  “It barely broke the flesh,” Muriel said, cleaning the area. She was right; it had left only a few small punctures in a semicircle. It probably wouldn’t even scar.

  Annie smiled weakly. “I’ll be fine, Sev. I’m tough.”

  “I know, Dove. I know.” Sev stroked her flushed cheek and turned his attention to Midnight standing among the decapitated corpses. Sev walked over to the villain, who was staring at Clive’s corpse. “Should we do something fer him?” Sev asked.

  “What?” Midnight shrugged. “He’s been devoured. We can’t dig him a grave. He’s dead; he d
oesn’t care at any rate.”

  “I s’pose ye’re right,” Sev agreed. Then Clive shifted. Clive gurgled. Sev and Midnight looked at each other, questioningly.

  “Look at his wounds,” Jack pointed at the bite marks. The skin there was turning the same black-green as the creatures’. Clive sucked air in wetly.

  “He wasn’t alive. What is this?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s nothing good,” Jack answered taking a quick look around before he dropped his knife on Clive’s neck, severing it.

  “What about Annie?” Sev looked at his friend.

  “What indeed?” Midnight echoed. “Did you see the wound?” Sev nodded. “And?”

  “The skin is barely broken.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Midnight said dismissively.

  “We should move,” Muriel interrupted their conversation.

  “Look,” Rat added, pointing along the road they’d just traveled. Dozens of pairs of milk-white eyes bobbed in the darkness. The swarm was still beyond the light of the lanterns.

  “They’ve flanked us. Clever buggers,” Midnight stated with mild respect. “I suggest we run.” The villain wasted no time, dipping to scoop up a lantern as he ran full bore into the looming darkness. Following his lead, the rest of the party did the same, not looking back. Sev and one of the other boys grabbed the cart and pulled it along.

  The light was uneven, and they could hear the creatures gaining on them. The cart bounced in dips along the street, threatening to overturn. Someone stumbled and dropped a lantern, producing a small pool of flame that obscured the narrow bend in the road.

  The swarm reached the burning puddle and stopped short, unwilling or unable to continue on. Sev witnessed this as he spared a look over his shoulder. The creatures were alternately dashing forward and back, testing the heat or something else, Sev couldn’t tell. He slowed down, abandoning the cart, and watched them. One of the creatures attempted to cross and fire spread across its skin quickly. It screeched and dropped to the ground. The others watched as it burned.

 

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