Beggar Magic

by Burke, H. L.

  The lock snapped open after only a dozen or so clicks, faster than she’d dared to hope.

  “Come on!” she hissed.

  The girls darted into Cogg’s office. His desk had an intricate motif of gears and wheels carved into the front. It lacked the piles of papers present on his aide’s desk. The only things on display were an ornate pen stand, an inkwell, and a leather journal.

  “We need to hurry.” Zeb stood in the doorway, one hand clenched about her braid.

  “Here, read this. I’ll check the drawers.” Leilani tossed the journal to Zeb who fumbled but managed to catch it against her thighs before it hit the floor. She glared at Leilani and opened the book.

  “Dates, times, names, just a schedule. He certainly meets with Brash a lot, considering how little they like each other. That is strange. There are numbers after the dates and the letters G. C. What could that mean?”

  Leilani paused midway through closing a drawer of seeming junk. “That’s a merchant abbreviation for Gelian Coin. I’ve seen it on the receipts the Merchant Guild gives my father. Is Cogg paying Brash for something?”

  “Brash could be paying Cogg.” Zeb flipped through the journal.

  “Why though? Are they large amounts?”

  “A lot more than my allowance. Senior fellows don’t make much more than juniors. They do it for the glory. If Brash is making payments to Cogg, he has to be giving him nearly everything.”

  Leilani yanked open the next drawer. A collection of broken markstone sticks rolled noisily from front to back. She rummaged through scraps of paper and a collection of snuff boxes. The third drawer held a collection of novels with titles that made her blush. She slammed that drawer shut.

  She pulled open the fourth drawer and found it empty. Disappointed, she shut it again. A thought struck her. All the other drawers were full to bursting. This one didn't have so much as dust. She opened it again and pried at the bottom. It wouldn't budge.

  “What are you doing?” Zeb asked.

  “I think this is a false bottom, but it won't move,” Leilani grunted.

  “Here, let me.” Zeb leaned over the desk and whispered. “Can you see the drawer?” The Strains hummed. “A latch? Really? Can you loosen it?”

  Leilani heard a gentle click.

  “There, you could've done that. Basic beggar magic.” Zeb walked around the desk as Leilani raised the slat of wood. A stack of wrinkled, yellow papers lay beneath.

  Leilani drew one out. She saw a diagram of doors and passages, laid out like the Botanical Garden maze, only about a hundred times more complicated. “It looks like a map.”

  “Yes. Those are the tunnels. These must be from when they were still used for travel. What a funny thing to hide. Anyway, it isn't as if the tunnels are a big secret.” Zeb thumbed through several pages of yellowed maps.

  A sheet of white caught Leilani's eyes. “This looks new. What is it?”

  Zeb laid the paper on the desk. Leilani read, scrawled in bold letters across the top, Schematics, Strain Amplifier. Beneath this was a sketch of a cone attached by a hose to a box. The drawing had a cut away revealing the complicated interior of gears and glass tubes.

  “It kind of looks like Brash's miniature Strain detector.” Leilani touched Zeb's shoulder.

  Zeb shuddered. “That doesn't mean . . . we knew he was working on something called an amplifier for Cogg. Besides, he's right. This couldn't cause dead spots. These coils create energy with the Strains and focus it through here.” She touched the cone. “The result would be a burst of power. I'm not sure how it would manifest, but these dials seem to play with the frequency. If the volume and reverberations increased . . .” Zeb's mouth clamped shut. The Strains died to a whimper.

  Leilani rolled her eyes. “You realize when you talk like that, it's the equivalent to me randomly spouting Rynaran at you. I have no idea–”

  “He’s weaponizing the Strains!” Zeb shoved the paper back into the drawer and slammed it shut. She pulled her braid across her face and breathed into it. “We have to get out of here.” Without waiting for Leilani, she ran from the room.

  Leilani took a moment to put everything back as it had been and lock the door once more before following. She didn’t catch up to Zeb, but took a guess and headed for their quarters.

  Zeb sat reading a book when Leilani entered. She looked up, her eyes troubled.

  “Brash shouldn’t be working on something so dangerous. He should know better.”

  Leilani sat on the edge of her friend’s bed. “That could be why Cogg is paying him. Greed can make people–”

  “But Brash is all about discovery and knowledge, not money. He . . . he . . .”

  “He may not be the man you think he is, or there may be another option. What exactly do these amplifiers do?”

  Zeb let out a long breath and flipped back a few pages in her book to a picture of a box filled with the same sorts of gears and tubes as the schematic.

  “Several decades ago, a Research fellow built this. He called it a ‘Focus Box,’ not an amplifier, but it essentially does the same thing. Fellow Verge found that by funneling the Strains through his device he could manipulate them. He’d adjust frequency and amplitude like he was directing them in a symphony. For a long while, he was the darling of all the manors, likely to be promoted to the Highmost Seat.

  “Then something went horribly awry. Verge kept coaxing the Strains to extremes. He found how to make them break glass, influence plant growth, crack bricks in half, and temporarily numb the senses of everyone in the room. One day he accidentally blinded an assistant. People started to worry he had gone too far, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “But how did they stop him?” Leilani asked, her stomach tightening into a knot. Causing the Strains to harm others was the worst thing she could imagine doing to them or with them. The Strains fluttered like rustling leaves.

  Zeb shrugged. “He stopped himself. Knocked his whole workshop down on top of his head and destroyed his device. Some said it was suicide. Anyway, after that, all the manors agreed to let his findings gather dust. For every potential benefit to his findings, there were a myriad of risks. Some fellows protested the decision to halt the research. You could do things with focused Strains. Things most Highmost couldn’t imagine.”

  Leilani scratched the top of her head. “And this amplifier does the same things?”

  “From what I can tell, it's very similar. The main difference is that cone attachment. I think you could use that to aim the Strains. There are benevolent uses for such a device. Cogg and Brash might mean to use it for good.” Zeb unfolded her legs.

  “Then why hide it?” Leilani took the book and gazed at the drawing.

  “Because benevolent or malevolent, it's still illegal. If people knew Cogg continued Verge’s work, he would lose his office, or worse.”

  Leilani examined the picture. It certainly looked like the schematics. The text underneath didn’t say anything about such devices destroying the Strains, only increasing them.

  “None of this explains the dead spots or why Cogg is paying Brash,” Zeb echoed Leilani’s thoughts. “Also, why the maps of the tunnels?”

  Tunnels. Where have I heard or seen something about the tunnels? Vickers!

  “Zeb, if something odd is going on in the tunnels, Vickers might know.”

  Zeb opened her eyes wider then squinted. “Would he help us, though?”

  “He seemed friendly. Maybe he’s changed. If we explain what is going on, he could understand how important it is.”

  Zeb rubbed the space between her eyes as if it hurt. “I guess it's our best chance. Let’s go to Civics.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Vickers’s office lay amongst a maze of storage rooms in the back of Civics Manor. This section of the manor had a barren, almost unfinished quality, as if the builders had slapped on a quick coat of gray paint and called it good. It seemed especially stark when compared to the grand front rooms with their marble pillars and gold em
bellishments.

  “At least we’ll have privacy,” Leilani said at their third right, wondering if the clerk who had given them directions had been trying to get them lost.

  “He can’t be doing as well as I thought if they stuck him back here.” Zeb gazed down the unlit hall. A thin line of light seeped under the door at the end.

  Zeb stopped in front of the door but didn’t reach for the knob. Leilani rolled her eyes and knocked.

  “Come in,” Vickers's voice came through the door.

  Zeb shifted from foot to foot. Leilani opened the door and shoved her friend through.

  Vickers sat behind his desk with his feet propped up. His glasses rested low on his nose, and he held a book in his hand. When he saw Zeb, he bolted upright and pushed the glasses back into place. His hand strayed to his hair then fell back to his side.

  A smile crept over his face. “Zebedy, I . . . Hi.”

  She sniffed. “Could they have hidden your office any better?”

  Leilani elbowed her but had to admit she'd been thinking something similar. It was a small room, and so crammed with bookshelves there was barely space for Vicker's desk and chair.

  His smile faded. “I requested it. I like the quiet.”

  Leilani stepped around Zeb, and Vickers eyed her.

  “Did you come here just to insult my office?”

  “No, we need access to the tunnels,” Zeb said.

  Vickers raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

  Zebedy’s shoulders stiffened. “I’m not sure I can tell you.”

  Leilani nudged Zeb’s arm and hissed in her ear. “We need his help. At least give him the abridged version.”

  Zeb gave an exaggerated sigh. “There is something strange going on at Research, and we think it may involve the tunnels.”

  “Why?” Vickers set his book down on the desk.

  Leilani and Zeb exchanged a glance. They couldn’t tell him about poking around in Cogg’s office.

  “We saw some maps of the tunnels during our investigation,” Zeb said.

  “That doesn’t mean anything. Tunnel maps are public record. Anyone who wants to can request copies from the file room. Here.” He took a rolled blueprint from under his chair, flattened it onto his desk, and weighed down the corners with his book, an inkwell, and two metal paperweights in the shape of howling wolves. “This is the entire system. Nothing strange about it, though you can easily get lost if you don’t bring a light and a compass.”

  “Or you could just use the Strains,” Zeb said.

  “Sometimes I like to do things the hard way.” Vickers shrugged. “Now, are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

  Zeb’s mouth clamped shut, but Leilani just wanted to get it over with. “Have you ever heard of places without the Strains?” she asked.

  “You mean outside of Gelia? Of course. From what I’ve heard, they only exist here.”

  “No, I mean within Gelia, inside the manors.”

  Vickers squinted in obvious puzzlement. “No. Something like that would cause a panic. Most Highmost can’t get dressed without the Strains.”

  Zeb stood up straighter. “Just because we choose not to doesn’t mean we can’t.”

  Vickers snorted. “I didn’t mean you specifically, but if the shoe fits. What have you heard?”

  “It's more what we don’t hear.” Zeb’s shoulders relaxed, though her eyes remained hard. “We’ve found dead spots, places where the Strains disappear.”

  Vickers frowned. “Have you shown anyone?”

  “One fellow, but Highmost Cogg forbids us to talk about them.”

  The Strains shrieked. Everyone winced.

  “See!” Zeb said. “They want you to believe me.”

  “I heard.” Vickers rubbed his ears.

  Leilani fidgeted, wishing she could understand what they said.

  Vickers sat down and touched the map. “And you were somehow in the tunnels when you found these 'spots?'”

  “No . . .” Zeb drew out the syllable. “The spots are scattered all over Research.”

  “I don't understand why you need access to the tunnels. They are restricted for a reason. Half are structurally unstable and many completely filled with rubble. Just getting the major ones safe for travel will take years, and our plan is simply to brace and block the side passages. You could get hurt, or worse, wandering around in there.”

  Zeb's brows melted into a V. “So much for coming to you if I needed anything,” she scoffed.

  He held up his hands. “Ask for something I can give.”

  Leilani drew a deep breath. The two Highmost stared at each other as if she wasn’t even there.

  “Vickers,” Leilani said, “is there any way at all we can get into the tunnels? Perhaps with a guide?”

  He coiled the blueprints back into a tight roll. “I can take you down there, but not today. I’ll need to double check some things first, make sure the tunnels under Research are safe.”

  Leilani nodded. “That could work, right, Zeb?”

  “I suppose,” her friend answered.

  Vickers stood. “I'll send for you when I get everything arranged.”

  “I look forward to it,” Zeb said, not sounding like she meant it.

  Both girls turned towards the door.

  Vickers cleared his throat. “Leilani, do you mind if I speak to you for a moment, alone?”

  Leilani frowned at Zeb.

  Zeb eyed Vickers, then turned to Leilani and shrugged. “If you want to talk to him, I'll wait in the lobby.”

  “I won't be long.”

  She waited until Zeb had disappeared down the hall to face Vickers.

  The young man grimaced. “She still hates me, doesn't she? After all these years, I thought there was a chance she would've let it go. You know her better than anyone. Is she all right? This 'dead spot' thing seems to have her shaken.”

  Leilani bit her bottom lip. “The Strains are everything to Zeb. The first time she encountered a dead spot she nearly passed out.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, his mouth still twisted. “I would like to help her. She obviously doesn’t trust me.”

  Leilani crossed her arms over her chest. “Trust has to be earned. Though apologizing for the trick you played on her would go a long way. She still bristles every time she thinks about you, and it is all because of one stupid, cruel prank.”

  He opened his mouth, closed it again, then shook his head. “I never meant . . .” He exhaled a long breath. “Some things can’t be undone. Thank you for your time, Miss Leilani.” He slumped into his chair and stared at the blank wall beside his desk.

  Leilani sniffed. “Highmost are so ridiculously stubborn.” Her fingers tickled the door knob, but she drew her hand back and stared at Vickers once more. “Look, in all fairness, I have only heard Zeb’s story and that was years after the event in question. Do you want to tell your side?”

  He laughed, though his mouth stayed down-turned. “You’re Common, aren’t you, Leilani?”

  She drew back, prepared to snap at him if his next statement was in any way derisive. “Yes.”

  “Do you have a large family?”

  “No. My parents have three children including myself.”

  His eyes left the wall and met hers. “For Highmost that would be considered large. It is rare for us to have more than one child and infertility is a frequent complaint. My father’s focus in the Healing Manor has always been reproductive health. He thinks the Strains do something to us, perhaps as a way of controlling our numbers. Even if only one parent is Highmost, the child will inherit the ability. If we were capable of reproducing at normal rates, we’d soon overwhelm the Common.”

  “I noticed the difference in family size. I just assumed it was because you married later.” Leilani couldn’t imagine what this conversation had to do with anything.

  “I suppose you’ve heard the stories of Common women having Highmost children?” He drummed his fingers on the desktop.

  “
I’ve never known anyone who had it happen to them, but rumors of it happening, yes. That’s why infants are tested at birth.”

  “It can’t happen, though. At least one parent has to be Highmost for the child to be. If a Common couple has a Highmost baby, the reason is infidelity, not fate. That is also why it generally happens to unwed mothers and why it is so simple for us to swoop in and ‘reassign’ the infant to Highmost parents. We try to keep it hushed, but when a childless couple suddenly has a little one in their care, people take note. I knew I'd been reassigned by the time I was six.”

  Leilani’s jaw dropped. “You’re part Common?”

  He nodded. “My father’s status keeps people from talking about it, plus I’m almost certain he’s my biological parent. My birth mother worked as a nurse in the Healing Manor, under him. It would’ve been a simple matter for him to have his bastard assigned to him. Dess, his wife, loved me as her own, which is more than I can say about ‘dear old dad.’” He snorted. “Legally, a reassigned child is forbidden contact with his birth mother. Mom . . . er, my adopted mom, that is, never let rules stand in the way of what she saw as right. When I started asking questions, she arranged for me to meet my . . . other mom. She’d smuggle me into the Botanical Gardens to see her a few times a month, and the three of us would talk and play. That’s where my birth mom told me that stupid story about the chickens.”

  Leilani allowed her face to soften. “So it wasn’t a lie?”

  “No. After my mom died, I wasn’t able to meet with my birth mother any longer, so I lost both of them. My dad couldn’t wait to ship me off to the Country House, and on free weekends, he left me to my own devices. I don’t make friends easily. For the most part, I just don’t care. A good book and a quiet room is my idea of paradise, but there is something special about Zebedy. The way the Strains sing when she walks into a room, that smile . . . even when we were kids, I wanted to be with her. I felt safe telling her things, like that story.”

  Leilani nodded. “She has a way of getting people to talk. There's something disarming about her.”

  “I think it is how open she is. She told me her life story the first day we met, no guile, just a big smile and complete honesty. Made me . . .” He fell silent and rubbed his forehead.