Midnight City: A Conquered Earth Novel (The Conquered Earth Series)

by J. Barton Mitchell

  Mira exhaled and moved for the small chest at the bottom of the shelf. She pulled out the second Skeleton Key and shoved it into the lock. The lock was made for a much smaller key, but that made no difference. When the artifact hit the keyhole, there was a spark and a hum, and it somehow reorganized its shape to fit inside the smaller lock.

  She turned the key, and it flashed as it unlocked the chest, then dissolved away into a small pile of metallic dust that fell through her fingers onto the floor when she removed it.

  Mira lifted the top half of the chest with trepidation … but nothing unexpected happened; it simply opened. Inside rested a tarnished but well taken care of brass stopwatch, a circular mirror with a frame of silver, and a magnet about the size of a silver dollar attached to a very long length of gold chain.

  Mira smiled at the sight of her tools. With just these three items, she could survive 80 percent of Strange Lands anomalies, and these specific ones had gotten her all the way to the fourth ring. When she had escaped Midnight City, there wasn’t enough time to grab these on her way out, and she had always regretted it.

  Mira reached into the chest and pulled the items out one at a time. Each time, she expected the worst … but still, nothing alarming happened.

  Mira contemplated the tools in her hand, thinking. If it wasn’t them, then what was it?

  She stuffed the three items in a pocket. It was good to feel their familiar weight and shape again. Their absence had felt like she was missing an arm or a hand.

  Mira reached up and touched the purple crystal remnant on the shelf. Nothing. She touched the Polaroid. Nothing. She ran her hands over the books, picked up her old tea jar, touched the candles one at a time.

  Nothing.

  Mira was becoming worried. Had she been wrong about everything? If so, then her plan wasn’t going to work … and she was in a lot of trouble.

  Quickly, she looked around the rest of her space. There wasn’t much else; she had always kept it fairly minimal. There was just the hammock, and …

  Mira stopped, staring at something on the cavern wall behind the hammock. A small, faded, black-and-white photograph. Slowly, Mira stood up and moved to the item, staring down at it with a haunted look. It was a picture of a man leaning against an old station wagon, holding a small girl on his shoulders. Behind them, the ocean stretched to the horizon.

  The girl was Mira, years ago, and the man was her father. It was the only picture she had of him, taken by her mother during one of their summer visits to Portland.

  It was a long time since she had seen his face, and the sight of it here filled her with sudden sadness. Another part of her life that was over and would never come again, and one that had even less chance of being set right.

  It was the one thing still left from that time, the thing she’d had the longest of any of her possessions, and anyone who knew her knew how much that photograph meant.

  Mira scrutinized it a moment more, then slowly, carefully, she reached toward it …

  … and everything around her flashed, bright and forceful.

  The world spun crazily as Mira’s feet were ripped off the floor of the platform and she was flung through the air toward the center of the giant room. When she reached it, she hung there, immobile, spinning around in a cocoon of light and inertia a hundred feet above the cavern floor, the result of some sort of artifact trap.

  Of course it had been the picture, Mira thought. Her first instinct was to feel a small bit of relief. But as the Illuminators on the cavern ceiling far above lit up and filled the room with brightness, and the kids on the platforms began to stir from their sleep, the feeling quickly vanished.

  All around her, the members of the Gray Devils looked up at the person trapped and spinning helplessly in the Gravity Void in the center of their residence hall. As they did, they all came to realize who she was. The trap that had been sprung was designed to catch one specific person, and it had done its job well.

  Throughout the giant cylindrical cavern, a cheer sprang up, repeated over and over, echoing back and forth in the air around Mira.

  “Gray!… Gray!… Gray!… Gray!… Gray!…” The more people who joined the shout, the more hostile it seemed. Mira felt a surge of heat in her face as she spun and stared at her former fellow faction members. She recognized most of them. The faction’s top Information Peddlers, Johnny Ringo and Sam Smythe. Another salvage expert, like Daniel, named Oscar. Two young Freebooters named Summer and Meadow, girls who had always looked up to her, girls she had mentored. The Devils’ main enforcers, big, scary kids named Hawke and Waylan. And many more. Some had been friends, others acquaintances, and a few had been competitors, but now they were all her enemies, and they glared up at her maliciously.

  “Gray!… Gray!… Gray!… Gray!…” The hostile shouts continued, bouncing everywhere around her.

  There was definitely no going back now.

  35. LENORE

  THEY HAD LEFT MIRA’S LEGS UNBOUND, but her hands were tied behind her back. She stood alone in a cavern that rose to a smooth roof where blue and white Illuminators floated. It had been a long time since she’d been here, but it didn’t look like Lenore had changed it all that much.

  At the back of the room was the “balcony,” a cliff ledge that looked out over the rest of the compound’s residence hall below. The sounds of the thundering waterfall filtered up and into the room from outside.

  A large four-poster bed sat in the back draped with gray curtains, and a big Victorian armoire stood next to it. One wall was lined with shelves full of books, and there was a reading area nearby with chairs and a sofa. In a corner, a few workbenches held photographic equipment. It was all old, but it was clear that it had been meticulously taken care of.

  The room was clean and neat and feminine, and the older furniture blended well with the dark walls of the cavern, but it was not at all lavish, which wasn’t surprising. Like any powerful faction leader in Midnight City, Lenore was obsessed with Points, and she spent much more time at the Scorewall than she did in her own room.

  One indulgence, however, was apparent: All along the walls hung large framed black-and-white photographs from the World Before, famous ones. Prints by Adams, Strand, and Cartier-Bresson, all mounted throughout the room. It would have been a priceless collection in another time, but now it had only sentimental value.

  Still, Lenore had spent a lot of resources to get these prints, Mira knew. To her, photographs were memories made physical, almost like freezing time. Mira didn’t disagree, and the thoughts made her remember the photograph of her father.

  There was a click as the room’s large double doors were unlocked. Ornate and worn, they were still beautiful, and had been taken from an old Spanish mission somewhere down south and installed into the cavern room’s opening. As they parted, Mira caught a glimpse of two burly Gray Devil guards outside as another figure passed by them and entered.

  It was hard to say how old Lenore Rowe was. Mira so rarely saw anyone older than twenty, her frame of reference was skewed, and Lenore never disclosed her age. But if she had to guess, Mira would say somewhere close to thirty. Her eyes were clear and radiant green, and whenever Mira had looked at them, she couldn’t help but bitterly think that they were how her own might appear, if not for the slowly spreading presence of the Tone.

  Lenore was tall and thin, with long, shimmering black hair that fell down her back in a wide, loose braid. She wore a gray dress lined with a colorful floral print, which clung to all the right spots. Lenore was very aware she was a woman in a world of girls, and she used it to her advantage, both within and without the Gray Devils. She was beautiful and feminine, there was no doubt, but the beauty was tempered with a cold hardness that always kept you at arm’s length, no matter how close you thought you might be.

  Lenore’s gaze found Mira and slowly scanned her up and down. Her expression was unreadable, as usual, and she said nothing as she slowly walked closer. Lenore always moved meticulously, almost in slow m
otion, and there was something mesmerizing in it. Mira swallowed as the woman approached. This was a moment she had, in some ways, looked forward to since she’d left. A confrontation, a reckoning of sorts, but now that it was here, all she felt was dread.

  Lenore had no weapons that Mira could see, there was nothing in her hands, but with Mira’s wrists tied behind her back, she had no real way of defending herself regardless. She was completely at Lenore’s mercy, and that was never a good place to be.

  When Lenore was close enough, Mira flinched as the woman took the last few steps quickly … and unexpectedly threw her arms around Mira, pulling her close into an embrace.

  It took a moment for the shock to wear off and for Mira to realize what was happening. Amazingly, Lenore was hugging her.

  “Mira,” Lenore said softly, stroking the back of her red hair. “I am … so sorry. For everything.”

  It was surreal. Lenore held her another moment, then slowly pulled away, and Mira saw that Lenore’s eyes had the beginnings of tears in them.

  “I never said to tie her,” Lenore said, looking at Mira’s hands with agitation. “Take the ropes off.” The guards jumped forward and quickly cut the ropes free. When she was untied, Mira rubbed her wrists. Ever since the first part of her journey with Holt, she’d come to really hate having her hands bound. “Now leave us,” Lenore commanded.

  The two boys, dressed in gray, closed the doors behind them as they left, and Mira and Lenore considered each other in the quiet room.

  “Let me see you,” Lenore said, moving closer. “I know it’s only been months, but it feels like years. You look good, darling. A little tired, perhaps, but still good. And your hair is longer. I always told you to try it like that, do you remember? I like it.”

  Lenore’s clear green eyes held Mira in their gaze a few more seconds; then she moved casually toward a cabinet along one of the walls. On it sat glasses and a carafe of clear water with strips of limes and lemons floating inside. She poured some of the drink into a glass.

  “Water?” Lenore handed it to Mira, but Mira studied it hesitantly. Who knew what may have been put in it.

  Lenore read the source of Mira’s hesitation sadly. “How far we’ve come from where we were.” She took the water from Mira’s hand and drank a sip before handing it back. The look Lenore gave her almost made Mira feel ashamed. Almost. She took a deep drink, and it was good, the citrus flavors sparkling in her mouth, and she realized just how thirsty she was. She drank more.

  Lenore held something up to show her. It was the photograph of Mira’s father. “I had them link the artifacts to the picture. Of all that you left, it was the only thing that was irreplaceable, and the one I was sure you would take if you ever came back. I know how much it meant to you.”

  Lenore handed it to Mira, and she pondered the little girl frozen inside it, on the man’s shoulders. She would be there forever, and there was something comforting about that.

  “It’s a nice composition,” Lenore said. “Your mother had a good eye—I wish I could have known her.”

  Mira remained silent. She still wasn’t sure what to make of all this, of Lenore’s sympathy and tenderness, two traits she didn’t often exhibit.

  “How did you get inside?” Lenore asked. “The front gate has been sealed for hours, and the Rectifiers you built are still there, so you didn’t use a Shroud.”

  Mira knew she would have to talk eventually, no matter what. It might as well be now. “Cesar was very eager to help,” Mira said.

  Lenore thought the comment through, putting the pieces together. “So. Los Lobos know tunnels that connect to our cavern. I shouldn’t be surprised—they know the Crawlway better than anyone.” Lenore smiled at the thought. “Still, once word reaches the city that you’ve returned home, I’m not sure Cesar will be as enthusiastic.”

  “Returned home?” Mira asked.

  Lenore contemplated Mira carefully, weighing her thoughts. “Before you left, I handled things … poorly,” she said. “Beyond poorly, and it’s something I regret. You were more than a faction member to me, Mira, you were … family. And family doesn’t do to each other the things I did to you.”

  Mira stared back at Lenore, unsure what to think. They were words she never expected to hear, and the skepticism, she was sure, showed in her eyes.

  “You don’t trust me,” Lenore continued. “I probably wouldn’t either. I did some very unpleasant things, after all.”

  “Unpleasant?” Mira’s reaction was incredulous. “You accused me of Point Fabrication, Lenore. You stripped my Points and had me declared Unmentionable. You threatened to torture and kill my best friend.”

  “I know,” Lenore replied evenly. “I’m not going to pretend what I did wasn’t wrong. I want to make amends, as best I can.”

  “And what? I’m just supposed to believe that?” Mira asked.

  Lenore sighed, looked away. “I knew you’d return, Mira. You’ve never been able to leave things unfinished. My hope was that when you did, Ben would be here. If you could hear it from him, it would make it so much easier to convince you.”

  Hearing Ben’s name sent tremors of dread down her spine. “Where is he?” Mira asked.

  “Set free.” Lenore smiled. “He still has his Points.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You must have gone to the Scorewall, to see your own name if nothing else. Did you see Ben’s there with yours? Did you?” Mira remembered the absence of his name in the Unmentionables box, and she felt the first stirrings of hope in her mind. “All you have to do is check the wall and you’ll see his name, and his Points. He’s alive, Mira … and still a Gray Devil.”

  “You didn’t answer the question,” Mira said. “Where is he? Why isn’t he here?”

  “He’s leading an expedition.”

  “Into the Strange Lands? For what?”

  “For Points,” Lenore replied.

  “For Points? That doesn’t make any sense. Not unless he’s going…” She faded off as the answer occurred to her.

  “The Severed Tower, Mira. He’ll be the first Gray Devil ever to enter it and return. You, if anyone, know how many Points that would be worth.”

  Indeed, Mira did. A massive amount. No Gray Devil Freebooter had ever been to the Severed Tower and survived. If it could be done, the faction would gain enough Points to solidify its hold as the Prime Mover for years to come. But it was a big if. Less than half a dozen people had ever even made it inside the Tower, let alone returned. Navigating the core was essentially suicide.

  “He’ll be killed,” Mira said. “No one has made it into the Tower in years.”

  “It’s what he wanted, Mira. He asked me and I gave my approval as a gesture of reconciliation.” Lenore’s gaze softened. “He wished you could have gone with him. There was no one he trusted more.”

  It was true: They had worked well together, had even set records for the fastest crossings of the second and third rings. Since she had known Ben, they never went into the Strange Lands without the other, and the thought of him navigating it alone made an unpleasant emptiness in her chest.

  “His chances would be much better if you were there,” Lenore said, and the words resonated with Mira. “You can still go with him, Mira. You can help him, enter the Tower together, the way he always wanted. The expedition left only a few days ago. You could catch them. If not before the crossroads, then at Polestar.”

  “And you would just … let me leave, Lenore?” Mira asked dubiously. “Just like that? After everything that’s happened?”

  “No, Mira,” Lenore said, taking a step closer. “I am willing to do much more than that. I would give you your life back, the one I so callously took.”

  Mira looked at Lenore like she had lost her mind. “You made me Unmentionable. There’s no coming back from that.”

  “Your Points, I’m afraid, are lost,” Lenore said. “But the Unmentionable status can be removed.”

  “But the Codex—”

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p; “Allows for the removal of an Unmentionable brand,” Lenore said, “if the denizen belongs to a faction willing to sacrifice one-fifth of its Points as a penalty.”

  Mira was speechless. The Codex was Midnight City’s constitution, its founding principles, and it was a very dense, very complicated document. It explained in exacting detail the impossibly complex Points system, as well as the city’s political structure. Mira had read it only a few times, and the one thing she had learned was that there were no absolutes in the Codex. Everything in it seemed to have a loophole. Even the loopholes had loopholes. But still, it was a steep price to pay.

  “One-fifth?” Mira asked. “That would put you below Los Lobos—it would knock you out as the Prime Mover. You don’t seriously expect me to believe that you would give up all that power, just to bring me home?”

  “I’d consider it a trade,” Lenore replied. “We would get back the Points we lost and more when your artifact was no longer a rumor, when the rest of the factions knew we had it.”

  And finally, there it was, the point of this whole song and dance. Mira felt her anger begin to rise. “We’ve already had this conversation.”

  “No, this is different. I don’t want to use it, Mira,” Lenore responded. “You’re right: It’s too awful to even think about.”

  Mira hesitated. Again, it wasn’t what she’d expected. “Then you would … let me destroy it?”

  “It’s far too valuable to simply destroy. Don’t you see?”

  “No, I don’t see. I must be missing something,” Mira retorted. “You don’t want to use it, but you won’t destroy it either. You can’t have everything—it’s either one or the other.”

  “Think for a moment, Mira. It doesn’t have to be used to be valuable. It can be a deterrent,” Lenore said pointedly, moving closer to her as she spoke. “I would establish that we had it, I would make sure all the factions knew the power the Gray Devils wielded … and then I would let that power simply sit, untouched and protected in the Vault, forever. Isn’t that a fair trade, a good compromise? I get what I want; you get your life back. You’ll be welcomed with open arms, watch your name be put back on the Scorewall, and that monstrosity you made will never see the light of day.”