People of the City

by Marshall Ryan Maresca

  “Do you know anyone who would be able to make sense of this?”

  “Professor Alimen?” she offered. Minox remembered that man screaming at him on campus last month.

  “Not my preference.”

  “Delmin, maybe,” she said. “I know a couple others who could really break it down, but they’re no longer in Maradaine.” She turned a few more pages, revealing anatomical sketches, drawings of human bodies with lines, circles, and equations highlighting specific points. Each drawing was more and more grotesque.

  Minox glanced around the room in disgust. “Everything in here is evidence of some sinister action. I hadn’t thought this through. I . . .” He paced about, emotions churning in his gut. “I am a fool, clearly, thinking I had the tools, the knowledge, to investigate this on my own, outside the bounds of the law.”

  “Inspector!” she said sharply. He turned to her, and she gestured to his hand.

  It was glowing bright blue. He hadn’t been paying attention to his magic, letting it churn and embroil in him, bleeding out his hand.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “No, don’t apologize,” she said. She pointed over to the tarp-covered shelves. There was a similar blue glow coming from underneath the tarp, and a scratchy, rattling sound came from underneath.

  “That is decidedly unsettling,” Minox said, approaching the shelf. Miss Nell raised the sword as he pulled down the tarp.

  Cages—five of them—occupied by monstrous creatures that were neither cat nor rabbit. All of them glowing blue. All of them were shuddering, like they were having some sort of seizure.

  “Blessed Saints!” Miss Nell exclaimed. “What . . . what are they?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said, noticing that his hand was glowing stronger, despite his attempts to pull in the magic flowing into it. “I think I’m affecting them. Or they’re affecting me.”

  All five started smashing their heads against their cages. Minox jumped back, away from the shelf.

  “Should we do something?” Miss Nell asked, daring to move closer. “They’re suffering.”

  “They could be dangerous,” Minox said. “Or even diseased.”

  She glanced at the tarp. “The dust on that, it’s covered the shelf for weeks. How are they even alive?”

  “A disturbing mystery,” Minox said as the smashing of the cages grew louder. The doors of the cages were about to snap. “Miss Nell, move away.”

  She stepped away, but only to grab a leather glove off one of the tables and put it on.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Something foolish,” she said.

  One of the creatures broke out of its cage and leaped to the floor. She snatched it out of the air with her gloved hand. It shrieked and squealed, and attempted to bite her hand with its wild, misshapen teeth. Its blue glow grew more intense.

  “What are you hoping to accomplish?” he asked.

  She held it up, far enough from her face that its paws couldn’t reach her. “I’ve seen a lot of animals, and I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  He moved a bit closer, cautiously, and looked back to the dead creatures in the jar. The beast, whatever it was, seemed decidedly unnatural. Its left legs did not match its right. One ear was definitely lapin, while the other was feline. “It’s like two different animals were shoved into each other.”

  “Maybe that’s exactly what it is,” she offered.

  “Dark, twisted magic,” Minox said. “I wonder if we can safely bring this creature, and some of this other material, to the examinarian at my stationhouse.”

  “I thought this couldn’t be used as evidence,” she said. “We’re outside the law.”

  “We are, but Mister Leppin is the sort who would allow his curiosity to trump the statute. He might have insights we—”

  The other cages all broke open, and the creatures bounded to the floor. Minox braced himself for an attack, but none came. Instead, all of the beasts scrambled to the same spot on the floor, and worked furiously at clawing and scratching the boards there.

  “That’s very curious,” Miss Nell said. Belting the sword, she glanced around until she spotted a broom. “Get ready to check it out.”

  With the one creature still in her gloved hand, she pounced at the others, broom at the ready, and swept them from the spot on the floor. She kept them away from the spot with well-placed bats, and Minox moved in quickly to the area of the floor that had their interest. A quick inspection revealed what was interesting about it: a trapdoor, almost imperceptible. Minox opened it up, revealing a dark stairwell going deep into a stone corridor.

  The four creatures hurled themselves down the steps into the darkness, their blue glow fading out of sight.

  “Well, that’s quite disturbing,” Miss Nell said.

  “I concur,” Minox said, getting to his feet. She still had the one creature in her hand, struggling and squirming to get out of her grasp. “But I feel we would be remiss in not pursuing this new lead.”

  “You mean—go down there?”

  “I do,” he said. “Those creatures may have been . . . activated by my magic, but they’re definitely drawn to something specific. And as much as it terrifies me—” And fear was clawing at his heart at the idea of what he was about to propose. “Whatever Mister Senek and the Blue Hand were involved in, how it connects to abducted children and—”

  Children. He looked at the tables.

  “Saints above and sinners below,” he said in a horrified whisper.

  “What?” she asked.

  “The tables. Their size. Where the shackles are placed.”

  Perfect for a small child.

  Her face went pale, and then she looked at the creature in her hand. “Do you . . . do you think he started with animals and then . . .”

  Anger had flooded over the fear. This monster was taking children to perform unspeakable horrors upon them.

  He knocked over one table, and then another, and then tore open drawer after drawer on the shelf.

  “What are you doing?” Miss Nell asked.

  He found what he needed. “Looking for this,” he said, taking out a long piece of cord. He tied it around the neck of the strange creature and held onto the other end. “Let it go.”

  She did so, and it surged forward to the stairs leading down, straining at the cord.

  “All right,” he said. “I’m going to see where it wants to go. I welcome your company, but I understand if you are not inclined.”

  “Blazes to that,” she said. “I’ve got your back.”

  “Appreciated,” he said, wrapping the cord around his left hand, which was still glowing blue. He attempted to mute the magic flowing through it, but that was to no avail.

  “Inspector,” she said cautiously. “Does your hand normally do that?”

  “It will illuminate with magic at times,” he said. “Though usually only from my intention or negligence. I am troubled that I am unable to dampen it.”

  “I’m more troubled, given where we are, that you have a blue hand,” she said.

  So obvious he hadn’t even thought of it. “Of course. Something in here is affecting me, like the creatures were. Perhaps it is connected to the larger ethos of this particular Circle.”

  “Perhaps you should explain what happened to your hand,” she said. “It’ll be a good distraction as we follow a twisted rabbit-cat down a dark underground cavern.”

  “Very well,” he said as he let the creature lead them down. “It started with a murder case four months ago . . .”

  Jerinne found the tunnel that Maresh called “the underbridge” far more disturbing than any of the narrow passages they crawled through to get here. This was a marvel of engineering, hidden under the city. The idea that something like this would have been built and then nearly forgotten boggled her mind.
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  But it was also disturbing because it was almost a straight mile, with no side passages, with the roar of the Maradaine River overhead.

  “This has stood for centuries?” she asked.

  “It would seem,” Dayne answered. He glanced at the roof. “But something about that sound makes you think it’ll collapse any moment, right?”

  “Right,” she said. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

  “Nothing to worry about.”

  “Absolutely secure.”

  “My heart isn’t slamming a Yoleanne beat right now.”

  “I’m completely calm.”

  “Both of you, hush,” Hemmit said. “Have you seen those two . . . people at all?”

  “No sign,” Dayne said. “Of them or anyone else.”

  “Though this tunnel, it’s definitely in use,” Lin said. She waved her hands, and the light she emanated shifted from white to purple, and the floor lit up as well: footprints, wagon wheels, animal tracks. “Used a lot.”

  Jerinne couldn’t help but notice the size of some of those footprints. “Look how huge those are. They make your feet look tiny.”

  “I’m more noticing how small all of those are,” Dayne said. He pointed to a whole set of them. “Possibly a dozen children driven through here. So we’re on the right track.”

  That, at least, was heartening. Coming down here wasn’t some wild horse chase.

  “Do you hear something up ahead?” Lin asked.

  Jerinne turned her head to listen. “I’m just hearing the rush of the river. But . . . is it getting louder?”

  “I think so,” Dayne said. “What does that mean?”

  The answer revealed itself in a few hundred feet. The passage opened up again, and Lin increased her brightness. The chamber was bisected by a raging river that came out of one cavern and poured into another. A narrow bridge of wood and rope spanned the river to the other side of the chamber, where there were dark tunnels leading off in several directions.

  “A rutting underground river?” Maresh exclaimed. “How?”

  “There are so many ‘how’ and ‘why’ questions at this point,” Hemmit said. “But it’s clear we need to cross and then figure out which direction to go.”

  Jerinne went to the bridge and tested her weight on the board. “Seems all right, but I don’t think we should all cross at once.”

  “Wise,” Maresh said.

  “I’ll bring up the rear,” Dayne said. “If it’s going to break on any of us, it’ll be me.”

  Jerinne nodded, and took his meaning. She started across, feeling the sway and creak of each step. It held, but she definitely found her nerve being tested as she went on, especially with the roar and crash of the rapid water below her. She reached the other side and let out her breath. “Good,” she said. “Come on.”

  Maresh called something to her, but she couldn’t hear him over the rush of the river. She just waved for him to come, and he started crossing. As he made it to her side, Lin started her traverse. Dayne paced about anxiously as they went about it. She knew he was uncomfortable down here, and she hoped they would find what they were looking for and get out of this bizarre underground network beneath the city. Where even were they at this point? Somewhere near Keller Cove? Or Inemar?

  Lin finished crossing, and Hemmit started when Dayne looked over to Jerinne and shouted something. She couldn’t hear, but his face told her everything. She spun about, shield and sword out.

  At least a dozen people, all in dark robes, carrying blades and cudgels. Jerinne stepped forward to put herself in front of Maresh and Lin. Hold these people off. Give Dayne a chance to cross. Protect the others.

  Four of them came pounding on Jerinne. She blocked with her shield, parried with her blade, dodged and ducked, but while she was able to avoid getting hit, she couldn’t press them away, couldn’t get a shot back at any of them. Holding them off was all she could manage.

  “Dayne!” she called out. She risked a glance across the river.

  Dayne wasn’t waiting, charging out onto the bridge while Hemmit was still part of the way across. Jerinne couldn’t keep her focus on that; she had to keep fighting off these robed people.

  A thunderous crack filled the chamber with a blinding flash, and several of the figures stumbled away from Lin. Lin swooned, and while Maresh caught her before she hit the ground, the robed figures grabbed the two of them.

  “No!” Jerinne shouted, slashing out with her blade. She caught the robe of one of the men, tearing it off.

  He wasn’t a man.

  She didn’t know what he was.

  His head was tilted to one side, and his face looked like it had poured off onto one shoulder; like his flesh had been a candle, half melted down. And his skin—purplish-brown, covered in boils.

  Jerinne screamed and smashed him in his misshapen face with her shield. She had to get to Lin and Maresh, who were being dragged away. Maresh struggled vainly; Lin looked like she had no fight in her. Jerinne had to get to them, had to save them. She took the blows coming from the beasts, hitting back hard and fierce.

  “Dayne, I need you!” she called.

  “I’m—” Dayne shouted. One of the robed horrors charged onto the bridge into Hemmit, and the two of them fell back onto Dayne. One of the ropes holding up the bridge snapped, and the whole structure flipped. In a moment, Hemmit, Dayne, and the robed figure tumbled into the rushing water. A moment later they were swept out of sight.

  “Dayne!” Jerinne shouted.

  Three of those beasts grabbed her, but she was not about to let them get hold of her. Savagely, without grace or form, she spun on them and slashed with her sword. They pummeled at her, but she didn’t care. Days and days of training with Vien and Amaya, pushing her body to its limit, had made pain a familiar companion. She pushed through it, ignored it. She didn’t care about the fist crossing into her jaw, and she returned the blow twice as hard. She couldn’t do any less. She had to stop these monsters, put them down.

  She hammered one with her shield while driving her sword into the gut of another. She pulled out the blade and cracked it against his skull. Then again. One more grabbed her arm and she paid that back by snapping it clean with a blow from the shield. Then a kick to the knee, dropping him. Then another to the skull. And another.

  And—

  That was it, he wasn’t moving.

  None of them were.

  It was just her, with four of those beasts dead at her feet.

  Just her.

  Everyone else was gone. Hemmit and Dayne swept off in the river, and Maresh and Lin dragged away by these horrors.

  She closed her eyes briefly and offered prayers to Saint Julian and Saint Benton, to watch over Dayne and Hemmit. She had to trust they’d be well, that she couldn’t do anything for them.

  Lin and Maresh needed rescuing. That was her duty, and she would not fail it.

  Not again.

  Chapter 10

  AMAYA WENT TO SEVEN BARS along the Trelan Docks, asking about where to find a fellow named Braning. This mostly resulted in a few steves and skells offering to buy her a drink, or to show her what a real man could do. The first four bars were a complete waste of time. At the fifth, one man said he could tell her where to find Braning if she could beat him in a strong-arm, which she did rather easily. He claimed she had cheated, and after pressing, admitted he really knew nothing about Braning.

  At the sixth bar, one old fellow told her she was going about it all wrong. He said that since the man she was looking for was a sewer man, she shouldn’t be going to dock man bars, she needed to go to a brick and pipe bar. He told her to go to the Bitter Candle Pub, two blocks away from the river. She thanked him and paid off his tab, since he had been the only decent sort she had met in those six bars.

  The Bitter Candle was the seventh bar, and it was definitely a place frequen
ted by men who worked in the sewers. The place had a rank air to it, accented with the subtle notes of stale beer.

  She didn’t want to waste much more time with this. She noticed there was a bell over the bar—something for the tender to get everyone’s attention at the end of the night, most likely—and went straight to it. She grabbed the string and rang it hard several times until all eyes were on her.

  “Listen up,” she said in her best commanding voice as she stepped onto the bar. “I’m not here for a drink or to find a husband, and certainly not here to take anyone home with me. I am armed and skilled in those arms, and I have had a very annoying day. So believe me when I say, do not test me.”

  “What the rut you want, slan?” someone yelled. More of them shouted jeers with that.

  “I’m looking for a man named Braning. Does anyone know him, know where to find him? I will pay for the trouble.”

  The jeers went quiet. Eyes darted back and forth uncomfortably.

  “Ain’t no one here named that,” one man said.

  “But do you know him?” she asked.

  “I said, ain’t no one—”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw someone slip into the kitchen. A few other men gave their attention to the kitchen door. She jumped down and went to follow, and three men tried to grab her.

  They barely even touched her. She flipped one of them onto his back and cracked the other two into each other. If anyone else had made a move on her, she didn’t even notice as she was out through the kitchen, into the back alley.

  The fellow was running hard out to the street, and she sprinted after him. He turned onto the street, crashing and careening into things. He only made half a block before she caught up, and he was winded and wheezing.

  “Not fair,” he said as she grabbed him. He made no attempt to struggle with her.

  “True,” she said. “I run five miles every day. I don’t think you had a chance.”

  “So, you got me. Going to take me into the marshals?” He looked resigned, even dejected.