People of the City

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People of the City Page 9

by Marshall Ryan Maresca


  “He has diplomatic value, or something,” Jerinne said.

  Satrine found herself laughing. “Of course a sewage crime lord has ‘diplomatic value.’ I swear, this country is run by feral pigs.”

  “The kids you rescued. What did you know about who was taking them, where they were going?”

  “Some were put on a boat,” Satrine said. That boat had made it to sea, probably with Corrie Welling on it. “And the rest, in crates on the cart with me. I heard them saying we were going to someone named ‘Senek.’ He needed children and mothers.”

  “Mothers?” Rian asked, coming back over with bowls. “As in, people who are mothers, or people to be mothers?”

  “That’s a disturbing question,” Jerinne said with a shudder. “But you never found out more about this ‘Senek’?”

  “Just the name,” Satrine said. “Maybe that’ll help.” She ground her teeth for a moment, unsure if she should even say the next part, burden Jerinne with it. The girl was so young, and constantly took on more than she ever should.

  You were the same age in Waisholm, literally shaping the direction that kingdom would go.

  “There is something else. Chief Quoyell was assassinated by a mage that night, so we couldn’t question him further.”

  Jerinne nodded. “I think Dayne mentioned that.”

  “I found out later the assassination may have been ordered by a member of Intelligence.” She leaned in to whisper, as if even the name reaching Rian’s ears would put her in danger. Rian took the cue and went back into the kitchen with Caribet. “It was Colonel Altarn. You know who that is?”

  Jerinne took that in, but if it gave her further clarity, Satrine didn’t see it on her face.

  Rian came back with a bottle of wine, pouring a glass and putting it in front of Satrine. “You look like it’s been that sort of day.”

  “It has been that sort of day,” Satrine said. She still hadn’t yet told the girls about Mother. She didn’t know how to tell them, what to tell them, about that awful woman who was now back in Satrine’s life. Or that they now had an uncle who was only a little older than Rian. She knew she needed to tell them that before Rian accidentally started kissing him.

  But seeing how Rian and Jerinne looked at each other as they started eating, it occurred to Satrine that Rian kissing boys wasn’t a thing she should be worried too much about.

  A young blond woman, in a cloistress habit and with a serious face, sat on the steps of Saint Limarre’s with a valise next to her as Dayne approached. She seemed lost in thought when Dayne went up the steps, her eyes locking on him.

  “A champion!” she said. “I’ve been here waiting for my champions. They . . .” She looked around in confusion for a moment. “They didn’t . . . is this the wrong church?”

  Dayne wasn’t sure how to take that. “Miss, can I help you with something?”

  “You’re not helping me, you’re serving the will of God,” she said. “I am his vessel but you will be his arm.”

  “I’ll be his what?”

  “His mighty sword, raising up . . . no, that’s not right.” She shook her head. “No, no, no, I . . . wait. It’s not Erescan, is it?”

  “It’s Oscan. Oscan twenty-fifth.”

  Her eyes went very wide. “No, no, then it’s too late, much too late and we have—” She looked around the square surrounding Saint Limarre’s. “No, that’s not right. Wait. Is it Oscan in 1215?”

  The girl was asking the year. Dayne had heard Sister Alana mention the troubled cloistress in her care. This must be her.

  “Yes, that’s right,” Dayne said.

  “Too soon. But yet you’re—” She looked off to her left for a moment, and then turned back to Dayne. “I’m sorry, I get terribly confused some times. What did I say I was waiting for?”

  “Your champions?”

  “Silly of me. I’m waiting for my carriage, to take me to my new assignment.” She paused, looking down the road, and then continued with a voice that was almost haunted. “At Saint Bridget’s.”

  “Is everything all right, Sister?”

  “Definitely not,” she said. She looked at Dayne carefully. “You, my dear friend, should remember the parable of Saint Keller. Namely, the seventeenth verse.”

  “I’ve read it, but I don’t know the—”

  She reached up and touched his cheek—which was quite a stretch for her—and the contact briefly made Dayne feel compelled to look her in the eyes. “Hold close those that are dear, thy beloved friends, and do not fear to share your burdens with them, for their counsel and wisdom shall guide you through the darkest places.”

  Dayne suddenly wanted to cry, but had no idea why, how this strange young woman had unlocked something in him with those simple words. It was as if she had relieved him of a burden he had been carrying for years.

  She stepped away and picked up the valise. “I think I don’t wish to wait for the carriage. I will find Saint Bridget’s of my own accord. You will find Sister Alana inside.”

  With that, she walked off to the west.

  Dayne went into the church, back toward the living quarters, finding Sister Alana in the kitchen with two other cloistresses.

  “Dayne,” she said kindly as she came over to him. “Are you here for . . . absolution?”

  “Yes,” he said, and she led him out of the kitchen to one of the private chambers off the chapel.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, taking out her journal.

  “I’ve been looking into a large number of children going missing in Dentonhill.”

  “You think it’s connected to the children Satrine rescued from Quoyell?” she asked.

  “Possibly,” Dayne said. “They were providing children for someone’s nefarious purposes. Maybe with Inspector Rainey stopping one source, they’ve resorted to a new one.”

  “All right. What else?”

  “One child saw an inhuman giant take children, in the basement of a collapsed, abandoned house.” He gave her the address.

  “In the basement?”

  “That’s what the child said. I checked it out, but it wasn’t safe to look around too much.”

  “I’ll pass it on to Satrine and Welling,” she said. She thumbed through her journal. “Minox is wondering what you know about a member of Parliament named Chestwick Millerson.”

  Dayne scratched his chin in thought. “He’s one of the chairs from Sauriya, I believe. Traditionalist. I don’t know much more off the top of my head, but I’ll look into it. Did he say why?”

  “He did not,” Sister Alana said. “I recognize this partnership of ours is new, but he’s yet to be very open in his discoveries. I get the impression he wants to put together complete information before sharing it. And he’s hurting over his sister.”

  Dayne remembered—Minox’s sister had gone missing, and presumed dead, on the same night Rainey had stopped the child abductions. Probably due to the same people.

  Dayne thanked her and made to leave, then added, “Oh, and that young cloistress outside? She decided not to wait for her carriage and just walk to where she was going.”

  “She wasn’t waiting for a carriage,” Sister Alana said. “She was supposed to go hours ago.”

  “Well, she’s gone now,” Dayne said.

  Sister Alana scowled and nodded. “Thank you, again.”

  Dayne left the church, but the words of the young cloistress still rang through his head. And he was hungry. So it made sense to head to the Nimble Rabbit and seek out the counsel of some beloved friends.

  Veranix returned to campus, more than ready to get back to Almers Hall and rest. Switching his shroud to an illusion of a student in a campus cadet uniform, he made his way across the grounds. Over the months of being the Thorn, he had tried a few different methods of going unnoticed as he made his way to his lair—Mila liked the
word “safehouse” but “lair” was much more fun—but just looking like the very people who patrolled the campus for its safety was easily the most effective.

  The entrance to the lair was not in the most convenient place, in terms of proximity to Almers. But it was close to the Dentonhill wall, and it was nearly perfect in so many other ways. It was a large underground room with a hidden entrance that no one else on campus had used for decades. How Kaiana had even found it was a mystery, but he did not complain. He slipped into the shed that housed the hidden entrance, opened it, and dropped down to the next level. He could see the flicker of lamplight in the chamber, heard voices. Kaiana was obviously there, possibly Mila and Delmin. He wondered what they were up to.

  “I might know who this giant is,” Veranix said as he came in. “It might be a coinci—”

  “Thorn,” Kaiana said as she came to the doorway. Her face was tense, her jaw grinding. “We have guests.”

  Veranix jumped forward, drawing an arrow and nocking it as he came into the room, shifting his appearance to cover his face with shadow again.

  “Ease down, Thorn. Just us.”

  Sitting at the table next to Delmin and Mila were Asti and Verci Rynax, the brothers from North Seleth. Mila had a cat-like smirk on her face, but Delmin looked terrified.

  Veranix put the arrow away. “What the blazes are you two doing out here?”

  “Nice to see you, too,” Asti said.

  “Didn’t we say let’s not do this again for a while?” Veranix asked them. “It’s only been a week or so.”

  “You do know them?” Kaiana asked.

  “The Rynax boys. I presume you showed them down here, Mila?”

  “They said they needed to see you.”

  “So we let anyone down here now,” Delmin said. “I mean, that’s very good to know.”

  “They are fine,” Veranix said, taking off his quiver and putting it on the table. “I mean, Verci built the bow and the arrowheads here, I think we can trust them.”

  “How are they working out?” Verci asked.

  “Excellent,” Veranix said. “I like the knockout smoke a lot, it’s very nice.”

  “Isn’t it?” Verci said, wide grin across his face.

  “Why are you here?” Kaiana asked sharply. “Do you need him to do something for you?”

  “It’s not like that,” Mila said. “They’ve got something you might want.”

  “What’s that?” Veranix asked. He hung the rope in its case, but didn’t take the cloak off. The Rynaxes still hadn’t seen his face, no need to change that yet.

  “One of our local kids was abducted last week,” Asti said. “You were asking about abducted kids.”

  “Yeah,” Veranix said. “More and more in Dentonhill. With stories of a giant.”

  “Well, this kid got away,” Asti said. “And he’s got a story about a giant. And tunnels under the city.”

  That got Veranix’s attention. “Who is this kid? Where is he?”

  “He’s at Kimber’s, sick as all blazes. I barely got anything out of him.”

  “If any kid could get away, it would be him,” Mila said quietly.

  Veranix nodded. “That’s good. Let’s go and—”

  “Hey, hey,” Delmin said. “I can tell by looking at you, you’re pretty spent. And we’ve got classes in the morning.”

  “Classes?” Verci asked.

  Mila slapped him on the arm. “Classes matter, all right?”

  “Sorry.”

  Asti nodded, taking it in. “When are you free tomorrow?”

  Veranix looked to Delmin. “About one bell in the afternoon?”

  “You’re asking me?”

  “I might need you,” Veranix said.

  Delmin’s eyes widened a bit, but he nodded. “Yeah, that time works for tomorrow.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do,” Veranix said. “One bell-half at Kimber’s?”

  “I have class then,” Mila said. “So I can’t come with you.”

  “Sorry,” Veranix said.

  “No, it’s fine,” she said. “It’s probably best that I don’t see Tarvis.”

  “All right,” Kaiana said. “If there’s nothing else?”

  Asti got to his feet. “This is a nice safehouse.”

  “I like ‘lair,’” Veranix said.

  Asti sighed. “I suppose you would. We’ll see you tomorrow, and from there, figure out what we can do next.”

  “This is a we?” Veranix asked. “I thought you were staying out of this sort of thing.”

  “We’re out of revenge and robbery,” Verci said. “Clean, honest lives.”

  “But this involves boys we looked after,” Asti said. “And hardly seems like we’re dealing with decent people.”

  Dayne was fascinated how, despite the fact that Hemmit, Maresh, and Lin had a proper office for The Veracity Press, they still worked at the Nimble Rabbit half the time anyway. Dayne arrived to find the three of them in deep conference with several empty plates and bottles of wine around them. Joining them was Lady Mirianne, dressed in a deep red waistcoat and long skirt, with a suncap to match. He had to admit she was a vision, and it was easy to see how she had, in just a few months, become an icon of Maradaine fashion. Her signature looks were copied all over the north side of the city.

  “What luck to find you all here,” he said as he approached.

  “Dayne!” Miri exclaimed, kissing him boldly. “Sit, join us.”

  “I hope I am not a disruption. I know you are working.”

  “Pish,” she said. “We welcome your company.”

  Hemmit poured a glass of wine and passed it to Dayne. “The paper is already printed and ready for the boys to sell in the morning. We’re talking long-term stories now.”

  “Long term? Such as?” Dayne asked.

  Maresh answered. “We want to really profile each member of Parliament. Get a sense of who they are, what they stand for. Ask them hard questions.”

  “If they’ll take it,” Lin said.

  “Can you help arrange some meetings?” Hemmit asked. “If that’s not imposing.”

  “It’s not,” Dayne said. “My role is largely liaising with the press, so I might as well make the most of that.” He let his voice be marinated with his sour feelings.

  “I touched a nerve,” Hemmit said. “I’m sorry.” He signaled the waiter to bring a plate over for Dayne.

  “It’s a nerve that’s been exposed for some time,” Dayne said. “It’s not your fault.”

  “If you don’t like it, just stop,” Miri said.

  “Continuing in this assignment is the only chance I have at becoming Adept, or at least finishing my Candidacy with honor. I will endure.”

  The waiter came over with a plate of mustard-and-onion-slathered sausages and potatoes fried in duck fat, which was just the thing to take Dayne’s mind off his troubles.

  “What else bothers you?” Lin asked.

  Dayne took a bite of his sausages. “I went over to Dentonhill with Haberneck—”

  “Disher from Sauriya,” Maresh said with a scowl. “What did he drag you over there for?”

  “Didn’t drag me. There are a number of children in the neighborhood who have gone missing.”

  “Dentonhill’s a mess,” Maresh said. “I imagine the kids are lost all the time.”

  “This is something serious. Even nefarious,” Dayne said. “Someone is taking these children. One witness even saw a giant.”

  “A giant!” Mirianne said. “Are you sure?”

  “That’s what he said, but it was a small child. I would be a giant to him. Who can say what they really saw?”

  “It’s just . . .” Mirianne looked off in thought for a moment. “I’m sorry, I just recalled something. I must be off.” She got to her feet.

 
“Are you all right?” Dayne asked.

  “Yes,” she said firmly, kissing him again. “I just remembered I needed to call upon a friend in Callon Hills tonight. It would be very improper of me to ignore them.”

  “Can’t have you being improper,” Dayne said.

  “Hardly,” she said with a smirk. “But in this case, I have made promises.” A last kiss. “I don’t know how late the evening will go, but if you wish to go to the house and wait for me?”

  “Wish,” he said lightly. “But I imagine I should get back to my apartments in the near future, in case I’m needed.”

  “I understand,” she said. “But I’ll call on you in the morning.”

  That was odd. Usually the shop kept her busy in the morning. Today had been an odd exception for the event at the palace. “All right.”

  “Good night, all,” she said. “Good work, see you soon.”

  Dayne sat back down and got back to eating.

  “So what are you going to do?” Hemmit asked.

  “It’s a good question,” Dayne said. “I want to take immediate action, but I don’t know what it could be. I should just go home and sleep, and hopefully figure out what I can do in the morning.”

  Minox should have just gone home. He knew he should have. The day in the archives—both at Inemar and the Dentonhill Stationhouse—had taxed him considerably. Even still, the work had proven fruitful. For one, by stringing together items in three separate reports at the two stationhouses, he had found the solution to one of his old “unresolved” cases: Endle Gibb’s missing sister had actually faked her own disappearance so she could run off and marry someone in secret, only to be murdered by her secret husband some weeks later. The husband was then arrested and sent to Quarrygate on an entirely different matter.

  Not a happy solution to the unresolved case, but now he could reach out to Endle Gibb and close the matter. He had written the letter and delivered it to Gibbs’s home, placing him just by The Lower Bridge.

  Despite being exhausted, there were too many other revelations in his research today to ignore, and there was only one person he wanted to talk to about it. The knowledge burned in him, and simply sharing it with Sister Alana to then share with the others would not suffice.

 

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