Beggar Magic

by Burke, H. L.

  Vickers sprang to life, moving with a speed that belied his usual, laid back demeanor.

  Leilani started towards them, but Brick’s fingers clenched into her wrist. The sound of the escaping Strains became unbearable, like a whirlwind of ghosts. Leilani’s hair whipped into her face, and Brick pulled her tightly against himself. Vickers and Zeb collided at the last collector, tripping over each other to get to the handles.

  Zeb clutched the valve, twisted it, and collapsed onto the floor. Vickers leaned against the collector with one hand. His chest rose and fell in a visible sigh. The swirling Strains died to a whisper.

  “These caused the dead spots, didn’t they?” he asked.

  Zeb nodded, hugging herself. Tears poured down her cheeks.

  He took her hand and pulled her up. “Hey, are you all right?”

  She shook her head. “Everything has gone so terribly, terribly wrong.” She sniffed, hiccuped, and huffed out a long breath.

  “Well, it’s all over now, whatever it was.” Vickers dusted his hands on his pants. “I know you didn’t kill anyone, but you should come up and be Strains tested, as soon as these dead spots fade, that is, just to prove it to Goodly.”

  “But it isn’t over! He’s going to . . . Oh, I’ll explain on the way. Leilani, can Brick travel?”

  “Yes, if I help him.”

  “Good. Let’s get him some place safe and try to get word to the other manors before it is too late.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Except for an occasional raised eyebrow, Vickers remained expressionless as Zeb related recent events. Leilani carefully guided Brick through the tunnels, keeping close to Vickers’s lantern. Dead spots still consumed the majority of the space they passed through.

  “I never thought Brash could be a killer, let alone Kasan,” Zeb concluded.

  “All it takes for a man to be a killer is another man in the room,” Vickers said dryly.

  They reached the gate, and Brick and Leilani pulled ahead when Vickers tried to lead them towards the guard house, and Zeb stopped to argue.

  Heavy silence filled the grand halls of Research, giving the manor a sepulchral mood. Leilani helped Brick to a rounded bench at the crossroads of two corridors. He sat, his fingers gripping the edge of the seat.

  Vickers and Zeb came up behind them, bickering.

  “We need to tell the guards,” Vickers said.

  “By the time we convince Goodly that we didn’t kill Straight, it could be too late. We need to dismantle the collectors ourselves, before the manors start to crumble around us.”

  Vickers pushed past her and knelt in front of Brick. He waved his hand before the guard’s eyes and bit his lip. “No pupil reaction. There hasn’t been a case of Strains-induced blindness in decades. My father might be able to help him.”

  “If Healing Manor is destroyed, your father won’t be helping anyone.” Leilani suppressed her hope, forcing herself to focus on the problems at hand.

  Vickers stood. “I understand if you want to stay with him. He needs you now. Zebedy, you should stay here as well. I know my way around the tunnels. I will take care of it.”

  Zeb scowled. “Just like a man. Come in to save the day and push us to the side. We can take care of this, Vicky. Or can you not hear me over the whistling through my ears?”

  Vickers’s face darkened. “Can you pull your head out of the sand?” He grasped her by the shoulders.

  Instead of pulling away, she stuck her chin at him, her eyes smoldering.

  “I’m trying to help you,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “By taking over? No, thank you.”

  Leilani stood, ready to push her way in between them.

  “It’s dangerous.” His eyebrows melted together.

  “No more so for me than you. I’ve handled myself just fine so far–”

  He snorted. “By getting yourself locked in a closet?”

  “We would have gotten out,” Zeb said, though Leilani knew she was lying.

  Zeb’s eyes burned into him. “Give me one good reason why you should go instead of us.”

  “I don’t want to see you hurt!” Vickers’s breath came out ragged and something in Zeb’s eyes softened. He pulled her up and forward and pressed his lips to hers.

  Leilani stepped back, nearly tripping over the bench. He finally . . . oh what will Zeb do?

  Zeb didn't fight it. Vickers lifted her off the ground, and her fingers clutched at his shirt. She went limp. After a long moment they separated, but their gazes stayed fixed.

  He flushed, lowered his eyes, and released her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  She trailed her fingers across his jawline. “No, you . . . I'm glad you did. I just thought . . . Never mind. Again?” She held her face up to him.

  Well, apparently she likes it. Good for them. Leilani cleared her throat. “I hate to break this up, but the manors?”

  “Oh! The manors!” Zeb's eyes snapped open. She pulled away from Vickers, but he grabbed her by the wrist.

  “If something happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself,” he said.

  She ruffled his hair. “If the manors fall, I’ll never forgive myself. You know I can do this.”

  He brushed his palm against her cheek. “Yes, I do. Please, be careful, though.”

  Leilani kissed Brick’s forehead. “There are five remaining manors and three of us. If we want to stop Kasan, we’ll need to split up.”

  Vickers turned to face her. “The layout of the tunnels is identical beneath each manor. The room the collectors were in is called the market room. When the tunnels were well trafficked, vendors would camp there. There is one beneath every manor. It is likely those are the rooms where he placed the collectors. I know my way best around Civics and Healing. Zeb, I’m assuming you know Weather.”

  Zeb nodded.

  “I’ll take Art,” Leilani said. She laid her hand on Brick’s knee.

  Zeb touched Vickers's arm. “You could get to Healing before you could reach Civics, and backtracking from Healing to Civics will take time. I can do Weather and Civics. If the collectors aren’t on yet, do what you can to damage them. Leilani, you can take Industry once you’re done with Art.”

  Vickers eyed Brick. “Give me his pistol, ammunition pouch, and saber.”

  Brick grunted as if Leilani had punched him in the stomach when she disarmed him but did not resist. Her insides quivered at seeing him so helpless. She couldn't leave him alone . . . but if she didn't press on, how many more would be hurt?

  “I don’t suppose either of you know how to shoot?” Vickers asked, taking the pistol and pouch from Leilani. Both girls shook their heads. He tucked the gun into his belt. “One of the advantages of being with Civics, I’ve played with these toys before. Which of you wants the blade?”

  “I'll take it,” Leilani said when Zeb hesitated. She slipped the saber into her messenger bag. It protruded from the top, but if she held it close to her side, no one would notice.

  “Hopefully, though, killing won’t be necessary,” Vickers said. “Kasan should be Wordless. You can use the Strains to disable him. It won’t be lethal–they won’t allow for it–but they will let you restrain him, and he shouldn’t be able to fight back. Surprise is your friend. Be swift. Be quiet. Take him down before he sees you. I want both of you alive at the end of the day, all right?”

  His bossiness irked Leilani, but surprisingly, Zeb beamed at him. Leilani chose to keep her mouth shut.

  Vickers motioned to Brick. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay, Leilani?”

  “Want to, yes.” Leilani swallowed.

  Vickers glanced down the hall then back at her. “I’ll take Industry off your hands. Just see to Art and come back to him.”

  Her heart eased, and she forgave Vickers for his assertiveness.

  Zeb and Vickers departed together. Leilani lingered. She guided Brick’s hand over her heart then brought it to her mouth. “I will be back,” s
he whispered though she knew he couldn't hear.

  He grasped at the air when she pulled away, then forced his mouth into a firm line and sat, staring into nothing.

  Leilani did not look back. She knew if she did, it would steal her strength and break her heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Leilani caught up with Zeb and Vickers just as the pair parted ways outside Research. Vickers bent down and touched his lips to Zeb's forehead before turning towards Healing.

  Zeb watched him for a moment then joined Leilani. The Strains swelled to meet them in a chorus of bells, and the dull ache behind Leilani's breastbone eased somewhat.

  Zeb's posture relaxed. “Finally, they're back. Let's hurry. I can't let that happen to them again.”

  The girls walked at a brisk pace. Zeb started to run, but Leilani grabbed her arm. “For all we know Goodly has put out warrants for our arrest. We can't draw attention to ourselves.”

  Zeb nodded, her lips pursed. “I'm not meant for the life of a fugitive. I always manage to draw attention to myself. At least we can stick together until Art. Why did you choose it, anyway? ‘Cause it’s closer?”

  “It was the first to come to mind. Maybe because Brick loves art.” Leilani cleared her throat. “He wants to be a sculptor.”

  “Oh, that makes it so much worse.” Zeb’s mouth tightened. “We’ll fix this, Leilani. I swear, we will fix this.”

  The girls maintained a quick pace. They kept their heads down, but no one seemed to be looking at them.

  “First Research, now Healing and Industry. The Strains are abandoning the manors!” a man told a woman as the girls passed.

  “It can’t be true. How could such a thing happen?” The woman shook her head.

  “They’ve evacuated all the manors, though, until the cause can be discovered . . .” The conversation faded in the distance.

  Zeb exhaled. “He’s gotten further than I expected if three manors are already compromised.”

  “At least fewer people will be hurt if he succeeds.”

  A crowd of fellows and aides milled about in front of Art.

  Zeb touched Leilani’s shoulder. “Be careful and good luck.”

  Leilani slipped into the throng.

  “Why can’t we be inside? It’s cold,” a young fellow on her left moaned. “The Strains are fine in Art. It could just be Research.”

  “Research and Healing and Industry,” someone interrupted her.

  Leilani eyed the guard standing on the path up to Art. How could she get past him? No wall surrounded Art, just an open courtyard filled with statues. If something distracted the guard, she could run across this and disappear inside before anyone noticed.

  “Do you have any ideas?” she whispered to the Strains. They responded in a high, staccato tapping, like someone drumming on the edge of a cymbal. That probably would’ve meant something to Zeb, or any other Highmost. Leilani, however, was on her own.

  She touched Brick’s wristlet. What must it be like for him, trapped in darkness? Even as buoyant as his spirits were, he had to be terrified. She unclipped her cuff and ran to the guard.

  He was perhaps twenty, burlier than Brick, and with more typical Gelian coloring, blue eyed and fair haired.

  “Are you deaf?” She drew a line from her ear to her mouth, like Brick had shown her.

  He nodded. She drew a deep breath and tried to remember every sign Brick had taught her. She passed him the cuff. He raised his eyebrows.

  Linking her fingers and thumb together, then touching her chest, she looked him directly in the eye as she explained, “My friend is hurt.” She hesitated before making a wincing face and doubling over as if in pain.

  His face clouded. He swept his hand forward, palm up, then shrugged.

  She chewed her bottom lip. “Where? Oh Strains. Research. How do I say Research?”

  This guard apparently lacked Brick’s lip reading skill. He shook his head. She fumbled through her bag for a notepad and markstone stick. His eyes brightened when she withdrew them.

  Brick’s in the main hallway at Research Manor. He needs help. Someone needs to get him to Healing.

  The guard read her note and rubbed his chin. With his thumb, he pointed over his shoulder towards Art, saluted, then walked his fingers up his arm.

  “You need to get your captain? I can.” She touched her chest, walked her fingers as he had, and pointed to Art. He grinned, tapped his fist on his chest, and took off through the crowd.

  Leilani hurried into the manor. Brick would have help, and she had unquestioned access to Art. She’d done it.

  The gallery took up the majority of the ground level, and the open floor plan made it easy to find the door to the tunnels. She picked the lock in record time. For a moment she wondered how Zeb would handle the Strain-proof locks. Maybe Vickers had loaned her a key. He had a pistol, after all, and she could imagine him shooting the lock open. Given the option, she would’ve liked to try that as well.

  The Strains still danced around her, suggesting Kasan hadn’t made it here yet. She needed to disable the collectors so that once he did arrive, he wouldn’t be able to use them. Wishing Zeb had included a hammer or wrench with her “necessary tools,” she fished a light tube from her bag and shook it.

  Vickers had been right. The tunnels beneath Art appeared identical to those under Research. The whole thing gave Leilani an unnerving case of deja vu. At least this time the Strains sang to her. Their subtle melodies gave her hope.

  “You know, Strains,” she said, “Goodly said you are messengers from a loving Maker. If such a being exists, I could use him right now. Muddling on by myself is all well and good, but if he sent us the Strains, he must care what happens to us. Maybe he could lend me a hand?”

  Nothing miraculous happened, but the Strains grew more jubilant. Leilani could clearly hear the harmonizing melodies of multiple instruments: fiddles and flutes, drums and cymbals. She smiled.

  She turned into the last corridor before the ladder. Kasan stood, back to her, only a few yards ahead. Her heart leaped into her throat, and she staggered back into the darkness. She drew a deep breath and prayed she’d imagined it, but even as she did, the shuffling of his footsteps denied her this delusion. Perhaps he hadn’t seen her?

  “You can come out, Miss Weaver.” His voice echoed. “It's too late, either way.”

  She shrank back against the wall. Maybe she had bungled, but she was not about to serve herself up on a platter. She drew Brick’s saber. The blade dipped and rose with her trembles.

  The hum of the Strains grew airy, like an old woman gasping for her last breath.

  No, don’t leave. Don’t leave me now! Leilani backed away from the corner, but the Strains disappeared like water running from a cracked pot.

  “The collectors are already on. It is only a matter of time before the dead spot consumes the entirety of this manor, as it no doubt already has the others. Your world is ending. Let me see your hands, and I’ll escort you to safety. You’re as Common as they come. No need for you to get caught up in the Highmosts’ mess.”

  She imagined drawing the Strains about her as thread, but if they were thread, they were as frail as a spider web. Every time she got a hold on them, they snapped and melted, pulled into the collectors’ vortex.

  Just run. Run and get help. You can’t fight him without the Strains.

  She managed to push off the wall. Her feet pounded down the hallway, echoing loudly. Something whooshed by her ear, and she skidded to a stop. The Strain-grenade impacted against the floor several yards in front of her. She yelped and covered her ears and eyes.

  The wave rushed over her. Without the protection of Brick’s bracer, the shockwave hit her chest like a sledge hammer. She crumpled to her hands and knees. Her light tube clattered to the floor and rolled towards Kasan. The former aide crushed it under his foot. Luminescent liquid seeped out, to puddle on the floor.

  He swung his lantern over Leilani. Her ears rang. She could see but as if thr
ough a fishbowl, and the Strains . . . the Strains were gone.

  She grit her teeth. He stepped closer. Air slowly made its way back into her lungs. She clenched her fingers around the saber.

  “I wonder how you survived the first one I tossed at you. Well, this one didn’t miss.” Kasan kicked her in the side.

  She struck out, whipping the blade towards him.

  Kasan yelped as the saber sank into his calf. He yanked his leg backwards. Blood mingled with the glowing puddle, and a sickening smell filled the air.

  “You little drudge! I should’ve known you wouldn’t understand.” He reached into a pocket and produced another grenade.

  With all her might, Leilani lurched to her feet and barreled into his stomach. Kasan fell backwards. Momentum pushed Leilani on, and she tumbled around the corner. Kasan came after her, clutching the grenade above his head. She gained her footing and sprinted to the end of the corridor. As the second grenade exploded overhead, she dropped down the hole into the market room. She scrambled into the darkness.

  Flecks of dirt rained down on her head, and she remembered what Vickers had said about the tunnels being structurally unsound. She shuddered and hid behind the nearest column.

  The light from Kasan’s lantern announced his descent into the room. The hissing of the collector’s valves beat out an unnerving rhythm. Hiss, clank, hiss. She needed to disable those machines, but with what? It wasn’t as if she had pockets full of Strains-powered-death-dealing-missiles to toss.

  An idea popped into her head like a book falling open to the right page. She dodged from one column to the next, putting herself a little closer to the middle of the room. She continued in her column hugging path. The light from his lantern caused the shadows to bend first one way, then another, around her. She managed to always keep a pillar of stone between herself and Kasan.

  “You know this is futile.” His voice floated about, mingling with the workings of the collectors and the silence left by the Strains. “It's too late. The first of the manors should’ve crumbled by now.”

  She slipped through the shadows to a new hiding spot. A blast rocked an area several columns away. Grit rained from the ceiling, and she ducked.