City of Burning Shadows (Apocrypha: The Dying World)

by Barbara J. Webb

  Burning agony as the power twisted and seared my flesh. I struggled to hold myself against the tidal forces threatening to rip me apart. The magic pushed back. Pressing out as I pulled in.

  The world exploded in a burst of fire around me.

  Then nothing.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Body Made of Pain

  Hands on my shoulders, dragging me back into aching awareness. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t lift my head. Couldn’t catch my breath.

  “Hold still.” Iris’s voice.

  I tried to tell her I had no choice, but I’d lost the sense of how to make words. How to open my mouth.

  Eyes. I could open my eyes. Except that didn’t help. Everything was still dark. My lungs convulsed and kicked back into life, but the air they pulled in was thick with dust and I choked.

  “Ready?” Vogg’s voice. I didn’t know how to answer.

  Iris spoke. “Do it.”

  The weight lifted and light flooded over my face as Vogg and Iris pulled off the section of wall that had collapsed on top of me.

  I blinked, coughed, tried to make sense of what I was seeing. Iris was herself again. She and Vogg were both covered with blood and dust and fragments of the ceiling and walls. I couldn’t tell how bad either of them was hurt.

  I couldn’t tell how bad I was hurt. My entire body was made of pain, down to the last cell. “Help me up,” I choked out.

  The lab was a mess. Everything not nailed down had been blown against the walls. Around me, a circle of the ceiling and floor had been stripped to a bare, black slab. The glass in the office windows was blown, and the remaining patches of carpet smoldered and smoked.

  I saw no shadows.

  Vogg gave me a hand up, then kept his arm under mine when my legs tried to collapse again. I pointed to the far corner of the room. To the desk and fragment of divider leaning against the wall and the bodies beneath it.

  Syed, on the bottom, was a bloody mess. Unmoving. On top of him, trapped beneath the desk drawers, lay Amelia. Her head was scraped, her arm pinned beneath her in a way that had to mean it was broken, but her chest was still moving. Still breathing.

  Iris handed me the gun I hadn’t noticed her carrying. Then turned away.

  Vogg helped me to move closer. Until I was standing over her. I pointed the gun at her head.

  Her eyes flickered open. She looked up at me. Her lips moved in a bare whisper. “Joshua Drake.”

  I looked into her eyes. At the shadow swimming there.

  I lowered my gun. “Where’s Spark?”

  Iris spun around. “What are you doing?”

  “It’s Syed, Iris. Just Syed.” I transferred my weight from Vogg to the wall. “Are they all dead? All three?”

  Syed-Amelia nodded. “I was struggling with Amelia when your—whatever you did. She took the worst of it. I felt her die, along with the other.”

  To Vogg, I said, “Help him up, and tell me where Spark is.”

  “I’m here.” Spark’s head popped up in the now open window of the office she’d been hiding in all this time. “And almost done. But if you guys have a minute, I could use some help.”

  #

  The Jansynians were dead or fled. I had no idea how long that would last, if any of them had escaped to run for reinforcements.

  I didn’t have to tell anyone else to hurry. We all knew. As Vogg and Iris dug through the wreckage to find the intact computer Spark needed, as Syed-Amelia and I pushed our protesting bodies to rebuild the barricades on the doors. The shadows were gone, but this wasn’t anywhere near over.

  “I still don’t hear any alarms.” I risked looking out the door, at the still-empty hall. “Do you think they haven’t noticed us?”

  “I think they know the value of silence.” Amelia’s voice, but Syed’s words, Syed’s cadence. “They don’t want to give us warning, but they’re coming.”

  “Try this,” Vogg said behind me. He’d righted a desk on the far wall, found a screen that was cracked, but functional and an outlet that still had power.

  Spark came out from the office. “Ash, I need help.”

  I traded places with Vogg as Spark punched codes into the screen. It flickered, went black, then switched to a screen full of numbers and moving graphs. “What’s that?”

  Spark flashed me a wide, cheery grin. “That’s the satellite. I’m connected to it. We’re in.” She continued to type, her fingers a blur against the screen. “Go in the office. I’ll need you to work my NetPad while I do this.”

  Spark really had been busy while we’d been fighting off the Jansynians and the shadows. A panel of the wall was cut away and Spark’s NetPad was spliced into the nest of wires she’d pulled out. I brushed a clear spot amid splintered wood and glass shards and sat down, glad to have an excuse to be off my feet.

  Which meant I didn’t see the explosion. But I heard it. Heard Spark’s scream. Heard the hiss of gas moving through the room. Heard a new voice, muffled behind a gas mask say, “Everyone freeze.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The Director

  “Weapons down,” the new voice commanded. Footsteps—too many footsteps. What was happening out there?

  “You, Fyean, step away from that terminal.”

  “Just one more minute,” Spark murmured. “One more—”

  “Step away or we will shoot.”

  “Spark.” Vogg’s sharp voice. Protecting her to the last.

  A gunshot. The sound of shattering glass, and Spark’s cry. A second shot and Vogg growled. I pushed up to my knees, moving quietly as I could, keeping my head down. I still had a gun. If I could get off a couple shots before they saw me…

  Spark’s NetPad flashed. A blinking green square in the center of the screen that said EXECUTE.

  I pressed it.

  Three Jansynians appeared at the door. All wearing masks. All with guns pointed directly at me.

  I knew when I was beat. I put my hands up. Let them drag me out.

  The gas that filled the lab tore at my throat. I started coughing again and couldn’t stop. My eyes stung. I couldn’t see what was happening. They dragged me out of the lab. When I’d blinked away the tears, got my breathing back under control, I was alone, surrounded by Jansynians. They were leading me to gods-knew-where and my friends were nowhere to be seen.

  #

  They threw me in a holding cell. It was empty and far too bright for my tortured eyes, with an electric buzz coming from the door holding me in. I lay on the floor where they’d dropped me, arm across my face, body screaming with pain and exhaustion.

  I lost all track of time. Minutes, hours, I didn’t know. I wasn’t even sure I stayed conscious. The lights, the buzz digging into my brain, they dug into my sleep-deprived brain and made the room seem to float around me. I was here. I wasn’t here. I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know who anyone was. The shadows were here, all around, just beyond the lights. If I listened, I could hear them humming.

  The buzz disappeared and its sudden lack snapped me awake. The door opened. A woman—not armed, not dressed as security, gazed down at me with perfect Jansynian neutrality. “Mr. Drake, please follow me.”

  “Where are my friends?”

  “Please, Mr. Drake, the director is waiting.”

  My entire body went cold. Was Seana still—had Syed and I both been wrong? “Waiting for what? What’s happening here?”

  She said nothing. Only waited.

  The only way I was going to get answers was to follow. So follow I did. Bloody, limping, struggling. Two guards fell in step behind us, but they didn’t grab me, or even draw their weapons on me, so it almost seemed friendly.

  Once again I was escorted through the Desavris halls without any idea what I was heading to. This time, if they led me back to that familiar office, if Seana was sitting there waiting for me…I didn’t know what I would do.

  We went up an elevator and across a wide square full of market stalls and kiosks just opening for the day. This was
a part of Desavris I’d never seen. I didn’t think she was leading me to Seana’s office. Although we ended up in an almost identical hallway full of the same row of portraits that I’d looked at on my first visit.

  Despite the time I’d spent with the Jansynians over the last few days, the hours I’d been in Desavris, my kidnapping from the subway, security teams hostile and un, they still all looked mostly alike. And yet, as my escort led me into an office larger and more lush than even Seana’s had been, I was pretty sure the face I was looking at was the same face that had been in the portrait at the very end of the hall. The director of directors. The man who ran Desavris.

  “Director Artúr.” My escort gave a shallow bow.

  His office wasn’t as bright as my jail cell had been, but my abused, oversensitive ears were still picking up a hiss that was going to get distracting. I smiled as well as I could, and wished I could glean any clue of why I was here from the expression on his face.

  “Leave us, Ina.”

  She bowed again and backed out. The security pair followed. The director stayed in his chair, watching me.

  I didn’t have the energy for games. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’ve had a very long night, and I’d really like to know what I’m doing here.”

  He slid a finger across his desk and the wall behind him opened to reveal a screen. On it, I saw the running footage of our fight in the satellite lab. “You broke into Desavris. You and your friends killed a number of my personnel, including one of Desavris’s directors, destroyed expensive equipment, and hacked into our systems. If anyone has the right to ask what you’re doing here, I believe that someone is me.”

  “Where are my friends?”

  “In custody.” Which meant they were alive.

  He made another gesture and a second screen opened. This one sliding up out of the smooth black surface of his desk. “You are Joshua Drake, also known as Ash, an employee of Price & Breckenridge in the city below. You were summoned three days ago by Director Seana Desavris and granted limited security access by her less than twenty-four hours later. You used that access to enter and exit Desavris several times, removed a vehicle from the premises, and then on your final authorized entrance, you destroyed company property and engaged in an attack on security personnel. Hours later, you led an assault back into the building that led to the crimes I’ve already mentioned. Do you deny any of these facts?”

  I shook my head, despair a weight against my chest.

  He leaned over towards the screen. “Bring in Ms. Price, please.”

  The hiss was growing in volume. That, along with the fact my eyes kept trying to lose focus, made it difficult to concentrate on the man who held my life in his hands.

  The door opened behind me and a moment later Amelia was at my side. I looked her in the eye, saw the shadow of Syed looking back. She—he—it wasn’t trying to hide. I wasn’t sure how that made me feel.

  The director spoke to Amelia. “I’ve looked over the material you provided me.” The screen behind him flashed through familiar-looking files. The files Seana had given me. The files I’d passed to Spark. “There is a great deal of troubling data here, especially regarding Director Seana and her husband. Evidence they were both working against Desavris’s best interest.”

  “Sir,” I took a step forward, “what you don’t understand…”

  “Ash.” Amelia barely vocalized the word. Artúr wouldn’t have heard it, or even seen her lips move. But I knew, I understood.

  Seana’s death—they’d remember her as a traitor. She deserved better. She’d died trying to protect Desavris. She’d died doing her job and what greater legacy could any Jansynian ask for?

  But if I told the truth, if I explained her actions, I’d have to talk about the shadows. Even if he believed me—and that was questionable enough—I’d be passing along a secret that had held for millennia, and possibly condemning this man to a death more horrible than he could imagine. A death no one else would notice. A death he’d never see coming or be able to protect himself from.

  “Did you have something to say, Mr. Drake?”

  “No, sir. I’m sorry. It’s been…my head.” I stepped back next to Amelia.

  Artúr continued, addressing Amelia. As he would. She was the boss. “In light of your cooperation, your willingness to hand over all data stolen from Desavris—”

  “We didn’t—” Amelia drove her heel down on my toes. I shut up.

  “As well as your promise to abdicate any claims of ownership for the project for which your employees oversaw the conclusion—”

  “Wait, what?” I pulled my foot away. “What are you talking about?”

  “The satellite,” the director said patiently. “And it’s completion. Have you not seen?”

  Another swipe across his desk and this time the whole ceiling opened to a high, arched window that gave us an open view to the sky. The cloudy sky. Now I recognized the hiss, clearer now there was nothing between us and the glass.

  Rain. It was raining. Steady and solid and real. We’d done it.

  Artúr took my slack-jawed stare as an invitation to keep talking. “Given your position with the city leadership and the fact that I cannot in good conscious hold you responsible for actions driven by one of my own, I am releasing you and your employees back into Miroc. I want to make it very clear, however, that you are no longer welcome guests within the Crescent.”

  “We understand,” Amelia said. “And we thank you for your forbearance.”

  “Security will escort you out.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Day by Day by Day

  I lay on my bed in the dark and listened to the rain.

  My apartment had no windows, but I could hear it through the walls. A soft, steady sound. The sound of life. The sound of hope. The sound of tomorrow.

  Since coming home, I’d slept, I’d stood out in the rain, I’d slept, I’d filled containers full of water, and I’d slept again. I still hurt. Probably would for days. And that was just my body. I hadn’t begun to sort through everything that had happened. I didn’t know how to start.

  A soft knock interrupted the zone of thoughtlessness through which I’d been floating. Before I could answer, I heard the knob turn and the door swing open. The lights clicked on to reveal Amelia standing in the doorway.

  “That was locked.”

  “A minor inconvenience.”

  I sat up, leaned back against the wall, unsure what to say to my boss-turned-ancient-nightmare.

  She closed the door behind her and walked over to sit in my only chair. “When will you be returning to work?”

  “Is there work for me to come back to?”

  “More than ever.” Syed had settled in. Amelia’s every gesture, from the angle of her head to the way she smoothed her skirt as she sat were perfect. “The city needs putting back together. My father—”

  “No. Not your father. Amelia’s father. But you’re not her anymore.”

  She sighed. “I thought you understood better, Joshua Drake.” She hesitated, corrected herself. “Ash.”

  “Don’t. Please don’t…don’t talk like her, don’t sit like her, don’t be her. Not here. Not when it’s just us.”

  She slumped, leaned forward to balance her elbows on her knees and rest her forehead in her hands. “This isn’t easy for me. It’s so strange. This body. It isn’t mine. I was me for so very long.” She looked up, the shadow a roiling mass of black in her eyes. “I’m not like the rest of them. I still remember who I am. And now I remember who she is. And we’re not the same. We’re not…”

  She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and was Amelia again. “This isn’t over. There are others out there, other children of my father. I have to find them, destroy them. Before they do to others what they tried to do here. And for that, I need your help.”

  I hadn’t been able to face yet the things that had happened here. I couldn’t begin to think about hunting down more monsters. “I’m just…gods, wh
at did you call me? A buzzing insect? You don’t need me.”

  “You know what we are. You can see us. You can kill us. You are invaluable to me and a living threat to them.”

  I knew the truth of it, but still…I couldn’t. “It’s just magic. Surely you can find someone else with the gift, have them do whatever I did.”

  “I don’t know what you did.” The flash of anger was pure Amelia. “And even if I did, am I supposed to interview one human after another? Tell them what, exactly? Measure their aptitude for this work…how? It’s bad enough I have to humble myself to you and ask a favor as though I were some…” She took a slow breath, calmed. “No, Ash. You are the one who can help me. Iris and Spark and Vogg can also be valuable, but they can’t do the things you can do.”

  As much trouble as I was having sitting here talking to the monster inside Amelia, I couldn’t imagine what Iris would do. “Can you understand how hard it is for us? Amelia was my boss, my friend. And to Iris she was even more. And now Amelia’s dead, and we know she’s dead, but you’re still right there, in front of me, and it’s…well, it’s awful is what it is.”

  “I’m sorry. I truly am.” She stood. “But there is a greater cause to serve, and I know because she knew that you’ll want to help. You’ll come to me. You’ll work with me. You won’t be able to do otherwise.”

  I didn’t answer. We both knew she was right. I’d crossed a line I couldn’t un-cross. “Not today, okay? I need some time. I can’t face the office. I can’t face the work. I can’t face…” I sighed, and just said it outright, “I can’t face you.”

  If Amelia—if Syed took offense—she/he gave no sign. “When you’re ready, of course.” She stood. “I’ll leave you to your recovery.”

  She paused at the door. “I did bring a gift. If you can drag yourself outside to see it.”

  Curiosity overcame the static weight of my melancholy. I followed her out.