Sam frowned. Given the choice, Casaria would surely volunteer. He’d been fearless going up against the grugulochs and in rescuing Pax before. But it was still a cold, dark responsibility. “Let me consider it.”
“With what other options in mind?” Obrington said. She said nothing. “Heavy weighs the crown, Ward. But you’ll do fine. Just make it sound like he’s doing a good thing.”
He lumbered away. Apparently the Fae weren’t the only ones capable of dropping bombshells without negotiation. Sam wondered again if this would actually last, or if this illusion of control had been to force her to take on this responsibility. Once the smoke cleared, even if Obrington left, might someone else like him step back into the fold for the easy days?
Across the office, Casaria caught her watching him, and offered a light, gentle smile. She gave him a noncommittal wave back. What other options did she have?
Above the centre of the FTC, the news screen replayed choice clips from Letty’s summit, Letty and Val’s voices booming over the buildings: “We’ll work with them on securing the Sunken City.” “The humans can keep the Sunken City.” Traders, manufacturers and skilled professionals hovered out into the airways between buildings, gathering to exchange concerns, slowly gravitating towards the Council tower. While the citizens hung in growing swarms, Stabilisers collected in the sky, near and far. The building was surrounded; there was no slipping away, no hiding, so why not embrace it.
Letty shoved Valoria, pistol at the small of her back, out onto the grandiose roof terrace. Flynt held back, watching the rest of the Council and the guards. The idea that Valoria could shield Letty, vast as she was, was ridiculous. Fae watched from all angles. No point even pretending she had cover now. Letty lowered her gun and strode away from Valoria, readying herself for the worst. Valoria’s eyes were aflame as she waited for the salvo of unprovoked gunshots Letty half-expected.
“Tell these people exactly why you’re keeping the Dispenser from us!” Letty’s voice demanded from the giant screen in the sky. Newbry had done a good job rushing together the footage.
Valoria watched Hearlon and the other Stabilisers following Flynt out, armed again. None of them dared make the first move, though all looked ready to gun the rebels down. Val addressed Flynt loudly enough to reach the very back of the crowd.
“Your friends are being hunted, right now. Spreading lies, manipulating our communications channels, bringing such equipment into the Council chambers – you cannot get away with this.”
Flynt stared coldly back and said nothing. Letty loved him for it. Valoria reddened, forced to continue. “Your brother was an insolent fool!” She turned to the Stabilisers. “What are you waiting for, arrest them!”
Hearlon’s crew were hesitating for the same reason as the Stabilisers in the sky. The same reason Flynt had the gall to follow them out here. The whole damn city had questions, a thousand people or more around them, now. Letty squinted at the floating soldiers. She made out one of Smark’s friends, and he was saying something to another. Indicating they see how this played out. The hesitation was infectious.
Their openness, being out here, made all the difference. This wasn’t a fight, it was an unfinished conversation. Letty approached the edge of the building. Comments rose up:
“It’s her!”
“What’s going on?”
“What now?” Valoria shouted. “You have driven the city to confusion, congratulations – what now?”
“Why don’t we ask them?” Letty shouted back, likewise making sure the crowd could hear. “If they’re all happy for you to use fear and poison to seal off this city for good, you can fucking put one right here.” She tapped a finger to her temple and turned to the citizens. “Or would you rather work with the humans to take back the Sunken City? Something we’ll never do by suggesting we kill them.”
Valoria set her jaw stubbornly. “Yes, I threatened the humans! I wished to avoid making our entire society complicit in it, and I wished – yes – to keep the Sunken City out of it. This is our home now. This is where we belong.”
It didn’t hit everyone the same way, or at the same time, but disagreement swept through the gathering crowd. Valoria had always known better than to make this a public discourse. Letty watched the governor as they soaked up the rising responses.
“There’s a chance of getting the Sunken City back?”
“What have they negotiated?”
“Didn’t Letty threaten the humans?”
“They butchered our councilman!”
“Did they fuck!” Letty railed at that comment. “I can talk with the humans! Get to the bottom of all of this! Follow her, and all you’ll ever have is what she gives you!”
“Oh yes, talk with the humans.” Valoria had a ready response. “Shall we befriend the female human who killed Edwing? Letty’s new Apothel.”
“Apothel was a maniac!” a woman cried out from within the hovering swarm. A score of angry comments, boos and demands followed.
The big screen went black for a moment, drawing everyone’s attention up. It blinked and came back with the Fae media’s usual logos. Valoria’s people had regained control of the network, showing footage of where they were now. The crowds in the FTC centre, headlines scrolling: TERRORISTS STRIKE COUNCIL.
“I’m a terrorist?” Letty shouted. “According to people spreading chemical warfare through Ordshaw! You believe in making everyone safe, withdraw your fucking threats!”
“I will not –”
“We can talk to the humans!” Flynt shouted with an excited edge. “Edwing showed us that! I met Pax with him, she wouldn’t hurt him!”
“We have to question this.” Smark added his voice, stepping out from amongst the Stabilisers and other Council members. “If there are chemical weapons –”
“Waste Chief Smark, know your place,” Valoria said viciously.
“My place is not knowing why in hell you’re sullying our chances to spread our wings! We need public accountability, to give the humans a chance. At long last.”
It silenced her, and he turned on the other Council members, all eyeing the growing public swarm with great caution. Mullon said, “Perhaps, Governor Magnus, it might be prudent to slow down.”
“This . . . ” Valoria’s voice shook with anger. “This is precisely why I took the lead. We cannot establish autonomy with half measures.”
“Nor if we drive the humans to destruction!” Smark replied. “We barely survived last time.” Shouts of agreement and complaint swept through the crowd.
“We took their weapons – we better understand them now –”
“Stand down your men, Valoria,” Mullon suggested, quietly. “We need a recess.”
Valoria’s gaze could have melted iron, but she was not fool enough to resist the entire city’s demands. Letty said nothing, letting the momentum of the FTC carry her. Shaking her head bitterly at Letty, Valoria raised a hand to her lapel, activating her radio, and the gathered audience quietened hurriedly. She spoke softly, but the rabble were so intent on hearing that her voice still carried. “Fang, this is Valoria. I have orders.”
Letty looked to Flynt with swelling pride. This was working. The bastard governor was backing down, the people seeing sense –
“Fang, answer me,” Valoria snapped, and the stiff silence was broken by mutterings of uncertainty. “Fang, now is no time for tardiness!”
She went quiet. No response was coming.
“Madam Governor . . .” Mullon ventured.
“There is a problem,” Valoria said. She tried one last time, adjusting the radio. “Fang? Hooper? Anyone from Team 14?”
Still silence.
Valoria narrowed her eyes. She was as confused as everyone else, but Letty noted a calculating look as the governor saw an opportunity. Not knowing what was coming, Letty stepped towards her, about to shout stop, anything, but Valoria yelled, “This is a distraction! Letty’s people have struck, they mean to take control of the very weapons she claims to
fear!”
“What the fuck are –”
“Stabiliser Team 14 is compromised, Letty’s people have them! Seize her, seize them all!” Valoria roared, taking quick steps away from Letty. The soldiers moved quickly – they didn’t need to know what was going on, in the face of such firm orders. Rifles were raised, two men were suddenly on Flynt, Smark too, and guns were aimed at one or two dissenting soldiers in the sky. Letty, with her pistol half-raised, had three men around her, rifles pointed at her head. People shouted and panicked – Letty’s complaints were lost in it – Valoria alone seemed to have a handle on the situation. “The rebels would spark a war under a white flag! Make true the threat against the humans! Send them to the cages!”
Letty bared her teeth but didn’t take another step, more guns on her than she could count. In the mounting chaos, all reason was lost. She tossed her gun aside.
9
The world came back into focus as columns of Fae architecture loomed above like tree trunks, the ceiling a distant, grimy smear. Pax’s head throbbed like she’d been hit with a bat. When she moved, a blanket of ceramic chips shifted over her with a clatter. She craned her neck to get a better idea of her situation. Fragments of a Fae tower covered her torso and legs. Worse than that, a tiny woman was standing on her chest with a silver pistol in her hand.
“I really like you,” Lightgate told her, amiably. “I guess humans can take dust.”
The gun pivoted idly as Lightgate swayed on the spot. Seeing the fairy rise and fall with her chest, Pax slowed her breathing, barely daring to move. It was fair to say this had gone badly wrong, and any sudden movement now might inspire an execution.
“Betraying me isn’t really what I’d hoped for,” Lightgate continued, “but the willingness to do so, I value that. Most Fae wouldn’t stand up to me, so for a human to have a go . . .” Lightgate whistled with satisfaction. “Don’t try it again, though.”
“Seeing that it worked out so well the first time,” Pax said.
Lightgate smiled. “You’re too late, anyway. Whatever you thought you could do, there’s war coming. For your courage, I’m still willing to deal. I could use you, yet.”
“No, thanks.”
“Pax. I’m a patient person, but I will take offence eventually.”
“You framed me for murder.”
“And you made some friends out of it!” Lightgate exclaimed, like she’d done Pax a favour. She gestured upwards to the towers where the others must’ve been lurking. They took it as a cue. A red dot appeared on her chest.
“I wouldn’t call us friends,” Fresko called from up high, “but yeah. We’d prefer you left her be.”
“You’d prefer?” Lightgate replied with what sounded like genuine confusion.
“We’ve got you covered,” Mix added, making her snap her head to the other direction. He was lower down, much closer, speaking from inside a tower. “Don’t care how fast you are, we’ve got you fucking covered.”
“You should care,” Lightgate said. “You’ll shoot her tits off. Not a good result considering how soft you’ve all gone for the humans. By the spirits, I should’ve come back to Ordshaw a long time ago. Where’s the spine in this place?”
“Standing up to you, right fucking now!” Mix said.
“And don’t overestimate,” Fresko added, more calmly, “how much we care about this bitch’s tits.”
Pax kept as still as she possibly could, eyes flitting from Lightgate to the sides, where she couldn’t pick out either of her apparent protectors. She’d gone from the champion of resolution to the scenery of a potential gunfight, and from the way Lightgate’s posture was tightening, there was no question it was going to get ugly.
“Well, Pax,” Lightgate said. “Any advice for your irresponsible saviours?”
“Honestly,” Pax said, bracing herself, speaking clearly so Letty’s men would understand, “I’m hoping they’ll hit you between the eyes.”
Lightgate gave her a withering look. “That’s not very nice.”
Fresko fired first, a crack of a shot that Pax felt rush past. Mix fired a split second later, two weapons at almost the same time. Pax flinched, throwing her body up and creating a rain of shattered debris, which Lightgate spiralled through. The fairy bent back in the air with the grace of a gymnast, pirouetting past the bullets. Arm outstretched, she fired back. Pax rolled, as quick as she could, shoulder rising past where Lightgate had hovered, and the Fae whizzed by her head. Another shot whooshed over Pax’s hair, barely missing. Christ – they really didn’t care about hitting her.
Pax darted forward at a crouch, picking out the scant space between the towers, head low, hands up. The firing continued, quick and loud, cracks rising from all angles; Mix roared as he flew from one side of the room to another, small flashes of light appearing where he went.
“I thought Letty might’ve trained you better,” Lightgate goaded from the forest of pillars. “Come on boys, don’t be shy.”
To answer her, the other Fae guns barked back. Again, again.
Pax crabbed from side to side, trying to find a way out. The gunfire and her own panicked breathing almost blocked out another approaching noise; whirring and creaking. Heavy machinery coming to life, getting closer. She turned to it as Lightgate shot back into view. The miniature woman darted before her eyes, tossing an empty magazine from her gun and reloading by hammering her pistol into her gun belt. She slowed to face Pax: a mistake.
The towers exploded around them, cracking and shattering, falling in walls of ceramic. Pax cried out, hands over her head, and tried to dive clear but only fell deeper into the chaotic crumble, the weight of a dozen pots bringing her down. In the collapse, she saw flashes of white as Lightgate tried to dodge debris, but there were too many chunks to avoid and she disappeared beneath the mess, alongside Pax. A tower came down on Pax’s side like a log, slamming her into the floor. Another crashed down in front of her, missing her forehead by an inch and shattering on impact.
When everything was still, Pax checked her body. Buried by Fae ruins, partially trapped, but alive. Definitely Not Dead. She twisted, knocking chunks of building off her, and coughed on the dust. Through the scattered remains she picked out a patch of white. Not moving.
Pax stretched under the weight of the tower that pinned her. She tossed chunks of building away, revealing Lightgate sprawled at the bottom. Her white suit was ripped and stained by terracotta dust and her hair was a disaster. Wings bent. But she moved, a hand reaching to the side, towards something tiny, a speck in the rubble. Her flask, bent savagely out of shape, torn and wet with a tiny puddle of spilt liquid. Lightgate took it, and titled it, one way and another, the flask empty. The fairy suddenly pushed herself up onto her elbows. Eyes picking out Pax, wings rapidly lifting her up, she bared her teeth in a snarl. Not so fast, having taken a heavy blow. Pax grabbed forward, but Lightgate evaded her closing fingers. She spun in the air and changed direction, down towards the floor. Pax saw the glinting metal of a gun, and forced her way desperately out from under the debris. Lightgate swept down to the pistol, plucking it up from the mess, and rolled, turning back as Pax’s hand came down again. The gun went off with a crack and pain cut into Pax’s palm as she slammed her hand through broken shards of tower.
She froze, then, wincing not just from her stabbed hand but with the realisation of what she’d done.
For a moment the room was completely still, Lightgate gone, under her hand.
“You got her?” Palleday called down, and Pax pulled her gaze up to him. His pulley device stood over her, with the fairy operating it at the top, like the pilot of a crane. It rocked on its wheels, hooks and chains swaying as they hung from the high arms; rams he’d used to smash through his works of art to bring Lightgate down.
“Yeah,” Pax said, voice hoarse with the dust caught in her mouth. She spat aside, to speak more clearly. “I got her.” She slowly lifted her hand from the floor, and cringed as Lightgate peeled off it, broken and sticky with blood
. Pax sat back on her haunches with a resigned sigh, holding up her bloodstained hand and observing the body. There was little white left on the maniac Fae’s suit. Her booted feet were twisted at odd angles to her body and her face, thankfully, was hidden by a mess of tangled hair.
“Better have,” Fresko said, swooping down onto the machine next to Palleday. Something was wrong with his posture. “Because she fucking well got us.”
Mix was dead before they got him clear of the carnage of Palleday’s ghost town. Pax laid him gingerly down by the edge of the room, and Palleday landed next to him, supporting Fresko under an arm. It was hard to see where Mix had taken the bullet – he might have taken many – but his eyes were open and glassy, his face fixed in an angry death grimace. Pax knelt over them as Fresko slumped at his friend’s side. The sniper was clutching his gut, shirt soaked red.
“Hold up, I’ve got stuff that’ll help,” Palleday said, and flew out of the room. Fresko made a pained, wheezing noise as he bent over Mix, then muttered what sounded like a string of curses, scolding his friend for dying.
“I’m so sorry,” Pax said quietly.
“She dead?” Fresko asked, looking up. Pax held up her closed hand, Lightgate’s legs hanging out of it. Shit, she didn’t want to look at what she’d done. She placed Lightgate down a respectable distance from the others.
“I didn’t mean to,” Pax said.
“You should’ve,” Fresko replied angrily. His voice was choked with emotion: maybe the agony of his wound, maybe grief. He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn’t carry him and he slumped back down. “Fucking . . . coming to our town . . .”
“We needed her,” Pax said. Would it still work? Would a dead Fae lure the creatures of the Sunken City, the same as a live one?
“Needed her like cancer,” Fresko spat, but with his words came a splatter of blood, and he slipped onto his back, legs twitching. He tried to continue in broken syllables, fading.
“Fresko!” Pax bent over him, raising her free hand. To do what? Poke him?
The Violent Fae Page 27