People of the City

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People of the City Page 30

by Marshall Ryan Maresca


  “Sword in hand and shield on arm,” Dayne said to no one, following behind them all. He had never seen anything like this atrocity, and he feared that he and the other four would not be enough to stop it.

  Lin was still on the ground, crying over Maresh. He wanted to weep with her, Maresh deserved to be properly mourned, but this was not the moment. He scooped up Maresh’s misshapen body.

  “Can you walk?” he asked Lin.

  She nodded. “If nothing else.”

  “Then come on. We’re going to get out of here.”

  A juggernaut of metal emerged from the wide gap that split in the cobblestone, rising up to blot the sun out in the square. Satrine barely had time to pull Verci Rynax out of harm’s way from its ascent, and she lost sight of Delmin and Kaiana, as well as Hemmit and the children.

  Verci found his footing quickly, jumping back perching on the low stone wall that enclosed the square. Satrine instinctively blasted a Riot Call as the thing continued to rise, gripping her handstick in her off hand. Now she could see the whole thing. Copper and steel intertwined and connected as massive rings spun at impossible speeds around it. Huge spherical cages sat in the center, with a raised platform on the top. A man stood on the top of the platform, arms raised triumphantly as he was surrounded in swirling light and energy.

  “He seems very pleased with himself, doesn’t he?” Verci asked.

  “Rather,” Satrine said. “Eyes up.”

  The rise finally stopped, and a small army arrived with the base of the machine. Dozens of people in dark robes, dozens more that were not even human, and one howling, hairy madman.

  The tallest, scariest of the unhumans bellowed out. “Get the children! Fuel the fervent fire!” The army all ran in every direction in the square. Four zealots charged directly at Satrine and Verci.

  Satrine was ready with the crossbow, pulling the first trigger as she aimed dead at the heart of the first zealot. He went down and she immediately shot the second, clipping him in the arm. He closed the distance, and was met with the cocking stirrup in his face.

  Verci had made short work of the other two with a combination of darts and kicks.

  “I presume my deputization protects me from murder charges,” he said to her.

  “If I get to keep this crossbow,” she said, quickly recocking and loading it back up. “They’re going for the kids; we need to get to them.” She hadn’t heard any response to her Riot Call. Not that anything could be heard over the racket of all this.

  “Right,” he said. He raised his gauntlet arm and shot one of the brass balls. That section of the square filled with smoke. “Let’s go.”

  “We can’t see the kids now,” Satrine said as she followed him into the smoke.

  “Neither can they,” Verci said.

  “Small comfort.” Something fleshy and spiky barreled into her, knocking her to the ground. She rolled with the fall, moving out of the way as a clawed hand swiped at her. What were these things? When she was a kid, there had always been rumors—more childish taunts—about horrors that lived in the sewers, but she had never really believed such things. She couldn’t deny the reality trying to sink its teeth into her face, though. She swung up her handstick, wedging it into the fang-filled maw coming at her. Another clawed hand grabbed her, dragging her and the beast along with her, out of the smoke, out of the square.

  This beast looked down on her, hunger in its eyes. “Not child,” it said.

  “Nope,” she said. She brought up the crossbow and fired both quarrels at once at it, while bringing up her knee into the crotch of the other. It squealed and fell off her while the first dropped dead. At least these things, whatever they were, still had tenders and other weak spots.

  She got back on her feet and drove her boot into the face of the creature, then a second time for good measure. She recocked the crossbow again—saints, this thing was a beauty—but before she could finish reloading, Verci came hurtling out of the smoke. He managed to land on his feet, but started to scramble away as soon as he did.

  “Giant!” he shouted.

  The largest beast—the one with scaly gray skin, thick and oily, lumbered out of the smoke holding a lamppost like it was a club.

  “Constables,” he said in a lumbering voice. “Hate constables.”

  The lamppost came swinging down on Satrine, but it didn’t hit her. Instead she was surrounded in blue energy, which pulled her back, away from the beast.

  “Apologies for the abrupt action, Inspector Rainey.”

  Minox Welling.

  Minox looking like he walked through the blazes and fought every sinner in the canon, but still: Minox Welling. She’d have embraced him if she didn’t know he’d hate it. Instead, she responded to him as he would appreciate.

  “Apology accepted, even if you are late.”

  The beast charged at them, only to be intercepted by Jerinne Fendall, knocking him in the knee with her shield, throwing him off balance.

  “I would argue it was you who has missed a majority of events,” he said.

  Blasts of wind filled the square, followed by surges of fire and lightning raining down. The wild, hairy fellow was clearly the source of that, sowing chaos all around. People throughout the plaza screamed as they attempted to get away, but zealots and beasts were grabbing them, running farther into the streets of North Seleth. Satrine pointed to a pair of zealots who had pinned some shopkeepers into a corner.

  “Fill me in while we rescue them,” she said, running over there.

  “I would also argue for some form of tactical withdrawal to discuss strategy, were it not for the immediate danger,” he said. He raced over to the first zealot, knocking him down with a magically charged fist. While Satrine knocked down the other, he said, “I find myself without a call whistle. Summoning a show of color would be prudent.”

  “I don’t disagree. My calls haven’t gotten a response yet,” Satrine said. She turned to the shopkeepers. “Lock yourself inside until you hear a Clear Call.” She took out her whistle and blew a series of blasts. Emergency call. Call for any and everyone in the loyalty to come, spread the call.

  “You’re wasting your breath.” A small greasy-looking man came up to her and Minox. “There’s not likely to be any sticks within five blocks of here.”

  “You are?” she asked.

  Her answer came when Verci Rynax jumped on him, embracing the man. “Asti, thank Saint Senea. I thought you were—”

  “We still may be,” he said. He looked over to the machine. “This job is well and truly skunked.”

  “Take cover!” Minox shouted, pulling them behind a pile of rubble. Blasts of lightning and fire came at them.

  “We need to do something,” Asti Rynax said.

  “I’m open to suggestion,” Verci said. “But magic and monsters are out of my league. What happened to the Thorn?”

  Veranix didn’t know where he was when he came out into the sunlight—was it already morning?—but there was no time to dwell on that. The zealots and monsters were running in every direction, grabbing children and other people, while Crenaxin and Senek still worked whatever twisted plot they intended. There was no time to think about anything else.

  He jumped at a group of zealots who were dragging children toward the machine.

  “None of that,” he shouted as he leaped into the center of them, staff whirling. No time for panache or style. Just knock them down and clear them out.

  “Run to the church!” he yelled to the kids. “Hurry, go!”

  The kids all started running, and the zealots gave chase. Veranix thought for a moment it would be easy to just whip out the rope, magically yank them back, but he had to pace himself. He only had so much magical strength left in reserve. Too much going on, and he couldn’t track it all, and saints only knew what he needed to do next.

  Right now, just muscle
and bone. Punch what was in front of him. Solve the immediate problems. Four zealots chasing after the kids.

  He whipped the staff at one of them while taking up his bow. Draw, nock, and loose. Again. Again. Three put down, the fourth tripped up.

  “Get off him!” a far too familiar voice shouted.

  Veranix spun and saw Kaiana hammering punches at one of the monsters, which was dragging Delmin toward the machine. What the blazes were either of them doing here?

  No time. He pulsed a hint of magic into himself, into speed, and ran at them, firing two arrows and scooping up his staff to smash the beast’s face in at the same moment the arrows found their mark. It fell away from Delmin.

  “I think we missed curfew,” he told Delmin lightly.

  “You think?” Delmin shot back.

  Kaiana grabbed Veranix in a hard embrace. “I thought you were dead.”

  “Came too close,” he said, quickly squeezing her back. “You two need to get out of here.”

  “And where will you be?”

  He drew and fired two more arrows at an approaching monster before answering. “Stopping this. But I can’t if you guys are in danger. Go in the church.”

  “We’re not leaving you alone,” Delmin said.

  “I’m not alone,” he said, glancing around. “Look, constables, Tarians, Rynaxes. It’s a party.”

  “Veranix!” Kaiana said.

  “They want the kids who ran into the church. Go and keep them safe. Please.” He spotted another monster going after a pair of kids on the church steps. He launched another arrow—he was running low at this point—taking it down. “Those two. Get them inside. Protect them, Kai.”

  She looked to the kids, and nodded, pulling Delmin off with her. Veranix looked back to the chaos, spotting the first major situation. Gurond was hammering at the Tarian girl—Jerinne—and she was buckling under his strength.

  “Hey, Gurond!” he shouted. “Why are you wasting time with her? I thought you wanted to play with me!”

  Gurond looked up at him and grinned. “Goddamned mage.” He threw a dismissive swipe at Jerinne, which hit her shield and sent her skidding away. Then he ran at Veranix.

  Veranix drank in the numina swirling around the square, sending it to his legs, filling the cloak, waiting for the exact moment when Gurond’s massive hands were about to land on him.

  Then he jumped, rocketing up to the sky as far as he could go, while shrouding himself with the cloak. Gurond crashed into a wall.

  Satisfying, but a drop in the bucket. Too much happening. No chance of stopping it alone. He didn’t even know where to start. He needed a plan.

  He aimed his descent to land right by the very people who might have one.

  Chapter 21

  DAYNE LEFT MARESH’S BODY IN the mouth of an alley, as far from the chaos as he dared to go. “Stay here,” he told Lin.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But I have to do something. Be safe.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” Lin said. She twisted her hand—her wrists were completely raw—and pulled it out of the shackles with a subdued cry. “I should have kept him safe. I should have—”

  “Not now,” Dayne said, squeezing her arm. “We will . . .” He fought the tears that wanted to flow. This was not the time. “We will mourn him and honor him after we stop these evil men.”

  “Go,” she said.

  He ran over to the square, not even sure where to start, what he could do. Then he saw Jerinne get knocked to the ground right in front of him, while Gurond charged off in another direction.

  “That guy’s got a punch,” Jerinne said, pushing herself to her feet.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “Really looking forward to spending the whole damn day in the bath after this,” she said. “Let’s put these bastards back in the ground, hmm?”

  “Let’s figure out how,” Dayne said. “I’m out of my depth.” He spotted Minox and Satrine Rainey huddling behind a pile of rubble with Asti Rynax and another fellow. “Let’s go.”

  He and Jerinne ran over there, knocking down a couple of the beasts that were running after the citizens of this neighborhood. Even still, Dayne wished he didn’t have to resort to that. These beasts, they had been human, altered in body by Senek, and twisted in soul by Crenaxin. Perhaps there were still good people in there, people who could be saved.

  “This is a horror,” he said when he got behind the rubble.

  “That’s the truth,” Asti said. His attention went to another part of the square. “Jared! Get out of there!”

  The Thorn landed behind them all, bow out. “Well, this is far more interesting than class would have been.”

  “This isn’t a joke,” Jerinne said.

  “Levity is his weapon, Miss Fendall,” Minox said. “Let him use it.”

  “We need every weapon,” Satrine said. “I called the Riot Call, the emergency call, but I haven’t heard any returns yet.”

  “There’s rarely any loyalty in this part of town,” Asti said.

  “And when that machine broke through, the tremors were probably felt for blocks,” the man next to him said. “Any who are nearby probably have their hands full.”

  “We’re on our own,” Satrine said.

  “Still, we take appropriate action,” Minox said. He stood up from behind the rubble and shouted. “Attention, malefactors! Consider yourself bound by law! Accept arrest peacefully or further force will be required to subdue you!”

  Three monsters leaped at him, but they were met with savagery from Asti, Satrine, and Jerinne before any of them touched him. Satrine pulled Minox down.

  “Was that really necessary?” she asked him.

  “It eases my mind about the lethal force we’ll need to use,” he said.

  “I’m fascinated by this use of ‘we’ here,” the other man said. Dayne finally took a good look at him.

  “You’re the one from the Parliament,” Dayne said. “Who disarmed Sholiar’s machine.”

  “It’s a whole reunion here,” he said. “Let’s all get a few ciders after.”

  Satrine sighed. “We don’t have time for this. Verci and Asti. Satrine and Minox. Dayne and Jerinne. And Veranix in the hood.”

  “Hey!” the Thorn said.

  “Glad everyone knows each other,” Jerinne said. “So how do we stop this?”

  It was too much, screaming and yelling and chaos and blood. Fire and magic and violence. Everyone needed to be saved. Dayne didn’t even know where to start. But he knew he couldn’t do it alone.

  “Together,” he said. “Anyone have a plan?”

  “Asti,” the Thorn—Veranix—said, nocking an arrow. “That’s your department.” He loosed it at one of the monsters.

  “Ask me, take out that mage first,” Jerinne said. “Then mop up the rest.”

  “Mister Sarren said that machine is fueled by steam and magic and I don’t even know what else,” Satrine said, loading her crossbow.

  “We’re wasting time,” Minox said.

  “Hush,” Asti said, holding up a finger. “You’re all right. That machine and the mage are the key.”

  “Then let’s break that key,” the Thorn said, selecting two arrows. “Been saving these all day.” He nocked and loosed them; arrows flew out toward Senek and the monstrous machine. Before they struck, Senek turned, and with a wave of his hand, the arrows stopped midair.

  “That’s not good,” Verci said.

  Senek smiled. “So very convenient.”

  The arrows started to glow, bright hot white, and turned toward the seven of them.

  “Plan?” Satrine asked.

  “Shields high,” Dayne told Jerinne, and he stood in front of the others.

  “That’s not going to hold it,” Veranix said. �
��Minox, grab the rope!”

  Minox did as instructed just as the hot-white arrows flew at them all. The Thorn’s rope coiled around Dayne and Jerinne, and then around the straps of their shields.

  The arrows smashed into the shields, erupting in a ball of fire as bright as the sun.

  But the seven of them were surrounded in a nimbus of light, red and blue and green, spreading out from the shields. Nothing touched them.

  “Soon as this clears, we move,” Asti said. “Verci, you get to that machine and shut it down, sabotage it, whatever you can.”

  “Fun,” Verci said.

  Asti handed a sword to Minox. “Constables, you escort him in, and watch his back. Block those bastards from getting any more kids into the machine.” He handed the shackles on his hip to Satrine. “Slap these mage irons on our friend if you can.”

  “My pleasure,” Satrine said. Minox said nothing, but a pulse of black energy shone from his onyx hand.

  “Thorn, you’ve got speed and range. Get high, and corral those creatures back to the square. Keep it all here, away from the rest of the neighborhood. Get someone to run for constables. Girl—”

  “Jerinne!”

  “Get any civilians and children into the church and hold the door.”

  “I should—” Dayne started.

  “You’ve got one job, friend,” Asti said. “Keep that giant busy.”

  “And you?” Veranix asked.

  Asti drew out two knives and grinned. “I’m going to welcome these bastards to my neighborhood.”

  The fire subsided, and the nimbus shielding them dropped.

  “Go!”

  Hemmit had lost track of everything in the chaos. When the ground cracked, and the machine rose up, he had gotten separated from everyone else, pinned, hiding behind rubble while the zealots and the beasts tore through Saint Bridget’s Square. Terror had paralyzed him, terror and shame for failing to be of any use to anyone.

  He was still of no use.

  Go, Hemmit thought. Run for more help. Do something.

  But his legs refused to do anything. His whole body rebelled at the thought of taking any action.

 

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