Legends and Liars

by Julia Knight

  With that, vines shot out from all over Eneko’s body, knocking them all breathless to the stone floor, and scrambled out of the window.

  “What the everloving…” Vocho mumbled as he climbed to his feet.

  “I don’t know,” Kass said. “But I think if we’re ever to call ourselves Reyens again, we need to get down to the main gate.”

  Outside the shattered guild gates the streets were a maelstrom of panic, so that movement was impossible. They found Cospel lurking before they took to the rooftops, where it was at least quiet if not empty. Guildsmen flitted to and fro ahead and behind, all moving with purpose according to whatever Eneko’s plan had been.

  Whatever that plan had been, it was likely up in smoke now. As they neared the main gate, panic became outright terror. Reyens flung down their weapons and ran, or more sensibly kept hold of them and ran. The shouts and yells had grown steadily louder until now they were deafening. Men poured through the gate–wild eyed, snarling–shouting in Ikaran that Kass could barely understand. Only one word stood out–blood. They’d come for blood. They were finding plenty too.

  A phalanx of guildsmen stood between them and that blood lust, protecting the city. A few of the hardier citizens stood with them: one man armed with a blacksmith’s hammer that dripped with the blood of the men who lay at his feet in crumpled, broken heaps, a woman with more than a dozen guns, a younger one next to her frantically reloading, winding, as her sister took shot after shot.

  The Ikarans were dying by the score, but they didn’t seem to care. If it had been only between soldiers, Kass thought, men and women who knew what warfare was about, Reyes would have had the upper hand. Ikaras had its life-warriors, but not many. Maybe only four dozen, for all they were fearsome. Reyes had its guildsmen, maybe half a thousand in total. The farmers, merchants, weavers, clockers on both sides, who knew nothing of fighting, of taking a man’s life, didn’t count for much more than sheer weight of numbers. It was the trained men and women, those who’d fought before and knew whether they had the mettle for it, knew they could do what needed to be done, who would tell.

  Or would have done, if not for the transformation of the Ikarans from an ineffective rabble into a shrieking mass of would-be murderers and cut-throats. They poured through the gate with none of the hesitation Kacha would have expected, with no pause between seeing a Reyen and flying at them with savage strokes of their swords, wild shots from their guns. The man with the blacksmith’s hammer fell to a bullet in the head; a guildsman fell gurgling blood from a sword wound to the throat, a random thrust from the baying mob that surrounded him.

  No matter how untrained they were, with enough of them Reyes would fall.

  Kacha was just about to jump down anyway when Eneko came striding along the street towards the gates. A long thin tendril sneaked out of one sleeve and dipped itself in the copious amounts of blood that splashed the flagstones. He grinned in an entirely un-Eneko way and flicked his hands up.

  For all Reyes was a city of clockwork, of steel and stone, there were plants everywhere: trees shading narrow alleys, planters outside doors with bright flowers, blades of grass between flagstones, weeds and even small bushes growing on roofs or from cracks in walls. Now these plants rose up like soldiers themselves. A great tree bent down and swept a cohort of screaming Ikarans into the sky, for them to fall like bleeding rain among the roofs. Grass twisted up, grabbing ankles, bringing down more attackers, to be finished off by surprised guildsmen who nonetheless knew an opportunity when they saw one. A flowering vine on a wall grew and twisted and grew some more until it was ten times the size and tendrils swept up to choke Ikarans’ screams from their throats.

  “I’m still pissed at her about the whole tattoo thing, but holy hells!” Vocho said.

  Kass looked over towards the gates. “We’re not in the clear yet. And she’s got to want something for this.”

  “Let’s worry about that later,” Dom said. “She’s helping, that’s the important bit. Now, how about we try to save this city?”

  Kass shook her head, not to refuse but because that wasn’t the only reason she was here. But killing Eneko–if he still was Eneko–was going to have to wait. “Over by the gates,” she said.

  “Just what I was thinking,” Dom replied and they were off, darting along secret paths, ducking behind chimneys. An Ikaran came screaming for them, mouth foaming with blood, but Vocho put a shoulder to him and turfed him over the side.

  Then they were in the thick of it with no time to think, no time to see anything but the enemy in front of them, behind, everywhere. The Ikarans didn’t fight like people, but like clockwork that bled and they were mindless, heedless of any danger to themselves, wanting only to hack and slash and kill.

  Kass dropped onto a wall where six guildsmen were under attack from dozens of Ikarans. One guildsman looked up at her, surprised as he recognised her perhaps, but a brief nod told her that while she might be exiled, might be under threat of execution, no one was bothered right this second. She waded in but was soon engulfed, and was glad of Vocho at her back.

  After that time became a blur of swords, of sweat and blood and sharp words called in warning or hatred. Her arms grew numb with weariness, her face and back slicked with sweat, her sword and dagger cloaked in blood, and still the Ikarans came on.

  Some unknown time later she had a moment to catch her breath and she and Vocho were leaning against each other’s backs. She swiped sweat from her face and looked out over the city wall.

  “What the fuck?” Voch echoed her thoughts.

  Hordes of Ikarans still blackened the plain, though they were fewer now. That wasn’t what caught their attention. Eneko, or what passed for him, stood in a wide, clear circle. One arm, longer and more pliable than any man’s should be, sought about for blood. In front of him… She didn’t know what was in front of him. Great green pods, they looked like, with gaping slits along one side. It was only when one shot forward and snapped at some hapless Ikaran who got too close, cutting him in half, that she began to understand. So did the Ikarans–some still ran towards Eneko like mindless automatons, screaming for blood, but more hung back.

  Further away, on a hill, stood a number of tents that looked familiar. The Ikaran king, Licio no doubt and Alicia. A blast of wind howled down from the hill, tore across the plain in front of the city, not caring that it blasted Ikaran soldiers from their feet, and threw them up to scatter like petals across the dusty plain before it reached Eneko, staggering him.

  “Do you know,” Voch said in a voice beyond tired, “I never thought I’d be in a battle between two magicians. Can’t say I’m enjoying it very much. Maybe we could just leave them to it and have a beer or something until they’ve finished.”

  “Voch,” she began but was struck dumb as another pod leaped at some Ikarans, caught them in its jaws but was then swept away by the wind. Blood and greenish sap splattered into the dust. This was not the sort of battle she was used to either. “Yeah, I wish.”

  Dom staggered up, Cospel in tow, and Kass wondered just how smug Voch would be at the sight of him–not pristine now. Dust and blood spattered his fine tunic, and there was a rip in one sleeve. He’d lost his hat and the ribbon in his hair, which now danced around him in sweaty tangles. Kass thought she’d never seen him look finer as he slumped against the wall.

  “What the fuck?”

  “That’s what I said,” Vocho muttered.

  “At least we might get a breather,” Kass said. “No Ikarans are getting past him. Her. Whatever.”

  It looked like they might get that breather too. Everyone had stilled to watch the two magicians–waiting to see who would come out ahead, no doubt. No one was trying to kill her at the moment, and that was about all Kass cared about. So when Cospel dug out a water bottle they all took the chance to drink. The guildsmen alongside them did the same–practical to a man. In a fight you took what you could because you never knew when you might get any more. There were one or two odd looks,
a few whispers, but none of the duellists said a word to Vocho or Kass and only looked curiously at Dom. That might change later, but they’d all have to survive first.

  Dom swilled water around his mouth, spat and then swallowed the next mouthful. “It seems to me that in a battle like this our talents are wasted. We can’t defend against Cee–I mean Alicia–they can’t attack against whatever Eneko is now. It’s down to those two.”

  Kass took a swallow of water and poured some over her head. “So what do you suggest?”

  “I think a nice rest is just what we need,” Vocho said. He was sweatier than the fighting warranted, and his face seemed pinched. He was hardly likely to admit it, but things were starting to tell on him. “When it all kicks off again, we’ll be fresh as daisies. Which one do you think will win?”

  Dom shrugged and frowned out towards the hill where Alicia stood, faint in the distance but unmistakable. “I have no idea. But whichever it is, Reyes isn’t safe.”

  Kacha leaned forward. The same thought had occurred to her. “So?”

  “I’m not sure, really. Only… only we need to be careful. What do we want the outcome to be?”

  “Still alive at the end of it seems sensible,” Vocho said.

  “Reyes in one piece,” was Kass’s effort.

  A smile from Dom. “Both of those seem admirable. But if either of those two wins, we’re still in trouble. Alicia wants–hells, I have no idea–but getting Eneko would be top of the list. He has information she wants. That I want too, as it happens. He said he didn’t know but… And once she’s got it, do we think she’ll just let Reyes off the hook? Esti, what do we think she wants?”

  “Alicia?”

  “I think it likely. Reyes is just a means to an end for her, for both of them. We are disposable. And whatever Eneko’s plan was doesn’t seem to have been put into effect. So what do we do?”

  Kass looked over at the guildsmen. “I think…” she said slowly, working it out as she spoke. “I think that Reyes will turn on Eneko, whether he wins down there or not. He’s a magician, at least he is now. Reyes fought a bloody revolution to be rid of magicians and their puppet king. They aren’t going to take kindly to having one in charge, no matter what Eneko said before Esti got to him. But I think you’re wrong on one point. Esti gave us that antidote to give to Bakar, not Eneko. She intended to do this to him. Why?”

  “I have no idea. I agree though that she’ll be less than welcome in Reyes, no matter whose body she’s wearing. And Reyes killed magicians before. It can do it again.”

  Kass stood up and looked behind her, to the square behind the gates, further along the streets. “Reyes needs someone to follow, something perhaps, which is what Eneko used. He had the guild as his edge. Bakar had one of the first guns, and that tipped his hand before. That, and people wanted to follow him. A way with words, and people.”

  “When he was sane, you mean?”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “Of course when he was sane. We need something like that gun, and I think we need him, with his mind back. Someone familiar to lead, that’s what Reyes will want, at least for now.”

  Dom stood up. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that Eneko had a plan, and it was probably a good one. Why else would he have left the gates open? To draw the Ikarans in for… something. He had smiths and clockers working all hours down in Soot Town. He’s got something down there, something he planned to use once the Ikarans got inside, something we can use.”

  “And Bakar? We’ve no antidote.”

  “No, but Esti said the poison only works if he’s in prolonged contact with it. Wherever they’ve put him, and I’m betting the Shrive, he hasn’t been getting his daily dose, so perhaps it’s starting to wear off. She said something else too. Sugar. Something about sugar being a cure. I know she was lying about a lot of things, but I think there was truth mixed up in there, which is why it all seemed so plausible.”

  Dom leaned against the wall, and Kass watched him as thoughts ran behind his eyes like cogs spinning.

  Finally he cocked an eyebrow her way. “We’ll need to split up. We can’t do it all in time otherwise.”

  “Do what?” Vocho said. “I mean, whatever it is, I’m happy to help because it beats sitting here watching two magicians slug it out, but I like to know what I’m getting into.”

  “Winning, Voch,” Dom said. “That’s what we’re doing. That’s what we always like to do, isn’t it?”

  It seemed to take for ever before they had it hammered out, and Vocho was starting to wish he’d never listened. His bones ached, his back felt like it was going to explode, and all the magic out on the plain was making his teeth itch. He would rather have died than admit it though.

  In the end they had a plan, of sorts. Dom had even roped in the guildsmen, who kept on giving Kass and Voch the evil eye. Cospel and Kass would go down to Soot Town, to where Cospel had seen all the smiths and clockworkers taken before. Dom and Vocho were going to find some sugar and try to break into the Shrive. Because that’s what you did, wasn’t it, when confronted with a couple of magicians trying to blow each other up and you had a price on your head? You broke into the prison they’d put you in if they caught you.

  “Oh, good,” Vocho had said when they decided this part. “For a minute there I thought you were going to get me to do something stupid.” He paused. “Are you out of your tiny little minds?”

  “Got any better ideas?”

  No, he hadn’t.

  However, being the first person ever to break into the Shrive, well, that had an appeal.

  Dom was deep in conversation with the guildsmen, giving them a brief and not especially truthful outline of what was going on and enlisting their help. They were to try to keep this area secure so that the others had somewhere to aim for if they survived. Meanwhile, out on the plain Alicia had knocked Eneko flat and was now lifting him up in a whirlwind, only to drop him, and… and he was gone. Ikarans ran to and fro, looking for him, but he was nowhere. Biding his time, no doubt, but it left Alicia free to concentrate on the city again.

  Cospel checked his pack and looked pretty woeful. Kass just looked pensive. Vocho caught her staring wistfully towards the palace. Her hand crept inside her tunic, and Vocho had a sudden pang for her, and what Dom had whispered to him quickly when she couldn’t hear, about who Eneko had been torturing, killing, in that cog’s awful room. Vocho might loathe the very name of Petri Egimont, but he didn’t want the bastard dead. Well, mostly. For Kass’s sake.

  “He might be alive,” he said now. “Probably is, even.”

  Kass started and shot him a look. “You think so?”

  “Even I have to admit he’s a tough bastard, Kass. I think so.”

  “Voch, your left eye is twitching.” The smile was wan and strained. “But thanks anyway.”

  “Time to go,” he said to that. “Meet us back here as soon as you can, and try not to die, OK?”

  This smile was better. “I’ll do my best. You too. And stay out of trouble!”

  “Yes, Kass.”

  There was a whole host of other things he could have said, wanted to say even, but now, in front of everyone, wasn’t the time. Then Dom was prodding him on, and they dropped over a parapet and onto one of the secret pathways, and Kass was lost to view.

  “Where are we going to get sugar?” Vocho asked after a while, because they seemed to be heading for King’s Row. Not known for its grocer’s shops. “I mean, lack of sugar was one of the reasons everyone was getting so antsy before we left. And it’s not like it grows on trees. Not here at any rate.”

  Dom paused halfway around a cupola.

  “I’m still thinking about that. Bakar first, because I suspect he’ll prove trickier.”

  Vocho slipped on a roof tile and just about caught himself on a chimney before he slid off into the void. One last turn around a circular roof, and the Shrive came into view. They dropped down onto the street.

  “So, Dom, just as
a matter of interest, how are you planning to break into the Shrive? I mean it’s not like it’s easy to break out of, is it? And don’t suggest getting arrested. I think the guards have other things on their minds today.”

  “Something will come to me, I’m sure.”

  “Very reassuring.”

  They lurked at the edge of the square in front of the Shrive and watched. Behind them the sounds of fighting drifted over the rooftops, an eerie counterpoint to the silence within the city, only broken by the peal of chimes as all the clocks struck the hour. A half-dozen guards came out and climbed some stairs set into a wall beside the square, then shaded their eyes as they strained to see what was happening outside the city. They were close enough, the city quiet enough once the chimes died down, that Vocho could hear snatches of their conversation.

  “And I say screw the inmates. We leg it down to the docks. There’s still a few ships there. We can blag our way onto one, if we’re quick, because mark my words we won’t be the only ones thinking of it.”

  “Aye, and the Ikarans will have thought of it too, be sure of that. Got ships all over, lurking, so I heard in the pub last night. Not fired a shot yet, but they will. I’d rather take my chances here. Can’t swim, see. Rather be shot than drown.”

  “I’d rather take my chances drowning than see magicians in the city again,” one of the older guards said. “I remember what they was like from afore. People going missing, all so as they can have their blood, and thrown away like yesterday’s news when they were done. People having their heads chopped off for saying anything about it. Bakar was mad, right enough, but even then he weren’t as bad as the magicians. Not by the longest shot there is. Now here’s Eneko becoming a magician without so much as a by your leave.”

  The conversation went on, but it was clear the guards were in two camps–stay or run. The runners seemed to be more numerous. Then a blast of something, the Clockwork God only knew what exactly, rocked their feet under them as the whole city shook. Drops splattered on Vocho’s hand, making him wonder how it could rain from a clear sky, before he saw what the drops were. Not just drops now, a deluge. Blood ran over the cobbles like rivers, seeped between cracks, made lakes in the square and bubbled in gratings. Then, almost as soon as it had started, the bloody rain stopped.