The Great Restoration (A Tale of the Verin Empire Book 2)

by William Ray

  Baston smirked a moment and then replied, “I don’t know; he was dead when we got there.”

  Sylvester grinned at that, then his shoulders shook, his eyes twinkling as he laughed at the stupid line, having to pause to cough. “He was dead when—” he began and then laughed and coughed again, struggling for breath.

  Rekindling her anger, Dorna pressed back to her feet, ignoring her own pain as she charged forward with vengeful ire that would not be twice refused. Gripping at the iron spike in his back, she roared and shoved at Sylvester with all her might.

  He gasped in surprise and gripped at the pole as she swept him from his feet. With a scream that mixed pain with rage, she turned him and rammed into the tram line’s newly installed junction box. The iron bar pierced the box, and it exploded in a shower of sparks.

  Dorna was thrown back several yards, landing hard on her back, but Sylvester remained there, impaled. Lifting her head, she saw his body danced about, limbs jerking in a spasmodic dance for a moment and only slowly falling limp as he began to smolder.

  Behind him, Baston was dragging Phand away as quickly as he could manage.

  Turning her head, she saw that the movement within the house had stopped, and now it looked as if the entire edifice were slowly crumbling into the Oblivion. It grew hazy and dim as she watched, and someone ran towards her. For a moment, she dimly hoped it might be Terry, but as it drew closer, she saw the helmet and realized it was someone from the fire brigade.

  He shouted something, but she was too tired to make sense of it. Closing her eyes, she wanted to pray, but she refused to utter the only words that came to mind.

  ~

  “Fire Reported”

  A catastrophic fire has been reported at the home of Maurice Sylvester. At the time of publication, Mister Sylvester has not been found, but surviving retainers report he was home when the great inferno commenced. While there is still some reason to hope he is merely convalescing in private, the destruction of his beautiful home and his renowned collection of art contained within it is a heartbreaking loss to our community.

  Bodies have been recovered from the ruin, and formal death notices will be published in our Temple Day issue. No significant damage to neighboring homes was noted.

  – Khanom Daily Converser, 18 Tal. 389

  ~

  - CHAPTER 34 -

  Gus awoke with a start, brought wide awake by the sight of a green-robed figure sitting in a chair across from his bed. Blinking a few times, he felt enormous relief to discover it was merely the unconscious Doctor Phand, sleeping in a chair, using Emily’s discarded Warden robe as a blanket.

  Judging by the light seeping through the drawn curtains, it appeared to be early morning. Turning his head, he saw that Emily shared the bed with him, fully clothed. Looking down at himself, he recalled that he had fallen asleep in that state himself. Their modesty in the eyes of whatever was left of Phand had been preserved.

  Though his panic at the sight of the Warden greens had been unjustified, in recovery from that shock, Gus found his heart was still beating too fast to go back to sleep. He sat up in the bed and turned sideways to begin stretching out his left leg as he pondered what to do. One return ticket to Gemmen was in his jacket, but they needed three.

  Digging into his pants, he counted out forty-six peis. A third-class ticket home for Phand would cost thirty, but that didn’t leave him enough to pay Emily’s fare. Sixteen peis wouldn’t even be enough to stay here the three nights it would take for him to get home and have a bank wire back a pay order.

  As he recounted, Emily stirred beside him and said, “How late is it?”

  “Still early. Any chance you brought much money with you for the trip out here?”

  Sitting up beside him, she frowned and said, “They didn’t give me time to get more money. I’ve only got eight peis three.”

  “This part would be much easier if kidnappers would ply their trade in the mornings. We’re still six shy of fare, and no meals on the way.” Slipping out of bed, Gus walked over and began patting down Phand’s pockets until he found a likely wallet. The man had been abducted on his way home, so it was predictably light—only three peis eight. “Well, two and a half shy of fare, and no meals.”

  “Dining car porridge is five pennies. We could get by on a peis and a half for meals.”

  Gus looked skeptically down at Phand and said, “You think he’d eat that? And only two meals a day? Two peis ten, at least.”

  Emily rose from the bed and began throwing his loose things into the carpet bag. When he looked at her skeptically, she handed him his mandolin and said, “Well, we can’t stay here, regardless, and I’m already packed.”

  They roused Phand, who mumbled sleepily but managed to get to his feet and into the elevator. He still seemed out of his wits, but at least he was easy enough to direct. Gus had never followed up with Bridgton after the war and was not sure if the man would ever recover from the elf’s magic. Fortunately, the reward offer had made no mention of the man’s condition upon return.

  When the doors opened, Gus let Emily lead out Doctor Phand while he managed the luggage. He approached the desk to ask after anything he might still have left in their safe, and as he did, the clerk looked up at him with an expression of alarm, hurriedly gesturing to one of his footmen. It wasn’t the crooked one, so Gus was not sure what to make of the man.

  “Sir! I’m so sorry; I didn’t see you come down. She’s in the lounge sir.”

  “Who is?”

  “Miss Aliyah Gale! She’s been waiting several minutes, I’m afraid.” The man stepped from around the desk to personally escort him to the sitting area just across the lobby. Miss Aliyah Gale was seated there in an overstuffed chair, surrounded by a trio of very attentive gentlemen in business attire. The trio appeared to be explaining something to her, but her gaze was fixed on Gus.

  “How deep was her voice?” he asked and received only a puzzled look in reply, so he added, “Was there like, a rumbling sound when she talked, like an earthquake or something?”

  The clerk shook his head, replying slowly, “No, sir? Shall I have the lobby boy bring you some tea?”

  Gus absently replied, “How about coffee?”

  Phand was walking at a ponderous shuffle, and Emily was still guiding him from the elevator towards the front door. Gus gestured for her to take a seat with Phand somewhere near the front desk and then crossed the lobby towards Miss Aliyah Gale.

  She wore an elegant Easternist frock of red silk that shimmered in the morning light filtering through the windows, and it was perhaps a bit more tightly fitted than the Gemmen social scene would typically find acceptable. Miss Aliyah Gale’s eyes turned to Doctor Phand, and at that subtle gesture alone, the three men around her immediately ceased their chatter and hurried over towards where Emily and Phand had settled.

  Gus recognized the impatient intensity of petitioners when he saw it. Emily could manage them for a bit, but his guess was that they were after custody of Phand.

  He approached Miss Aliyah Gale, who was settled in her chair as if upon a throne, and said, “So sorry to keep you waiting!” She smiled patiently as if such an apology were really due, and the lobby boy hurried over to deliver his coffee. “You brought a lot of friends just to deliver the bounty on your art thief.”

  Miss Aliyah Gale smirked at that and said, “I never promised you a bounty. I promised a reward based on things recovered, and yet there wasn’t anything you actually returned to me.”

  Gus did his best to look offended by that, but in truth he was so relieved not to hear the deep rumbling of her true voice somewhere nearby that he didn’t manage a very convincing performance. If she was here to take Phand though, then he wouldn’t get his reward for returning the man home. Feeling cornered, he sipped his coffee and then blanched at the bitter taste, spitting it back into the cup.

  The melodious laughter across from him eased his tension a bit, and Miss Aliyah Gal
e said, “Is the coffee here so bad? I drank some earlier, but I’m sure you’ll understand that the experience of it is a bit attenuated for me.”

  “It’s the worst I’ve had since my days with the army, back in Gedlund.”

  “I didn’t realize you had fought against the Lich King.”

  “Well,” he replied, in his best air of wry humility, “He was already dead when we got there.”

  Nothing. She just looked at him as if waiting for more. When it was clear he was done, she produced an envelope, which she held out to him. “I’ll be taking Doctor Phand, to complete his signatures. As this will interfere with your recovery of Missus Phand’s proffered reward, I devised an amount I thought suitable, based upon that, and also what I will likely be able to recover from Maurice Sylvester.”

  Gus accepted the envelope but decided opening it then might be bad form. For the moment, he only heard her human voice, but he did not doubt the other one was speaking, no matter where it might really be.

  Glancing back at Emily and Phand, he saw Miss Aliyah Gale’s petitioners had been expecting the envelope as their signal, and one was trying to balk Emily while the other two led off Doctor Phand. Gus waved at her to signal it was alright, and she frowned but let them herd off her charge.

  When he turned back, he saw Miss Aliyah Gale had stood—clearly, she considered their morning’s business concluded. She took a few steps and then turned back to him, as if a new idea had just occurred to her, and said, “I was impressed with your work here, Mister Baston. I’d be interested in engaging you as one of my agents.”

  The seemingly impromptu offer made him wonder if her expressions were real in any way or simply chosen for her. Thinking back to Salka’s line about being eaten and then cooked, the safest option seemed like a polite demurrer. “Retainer work? I’ve done that for a few businesses over the years. It’s not usually my favorite line, I’m afraid.”

  Emily stepped up alongside and gave him a reproachful look for turning down the business. Smiling at Miss Aliyah Gale, Emily asked, “What exactly do you need?”

  Miss Aliyah Gale smiled as if that response had answered her question. Gus resolved then and there if she did anything even slightly out of the ordinary, he would just grab Emily and run.

  Instead, she said, “So you did not learn all my secrets. Among my various interests, I own an investigative agency, Mister Baston. Originally, it was just to cut the costs of tracking down stolen pieces of my collection, but it’s done quite well for me and now turns a considerable profit. I’d like you to join it.”

  He rolled the idea around a moment. Then the details clicked together, and he laughed. “Drake’s? And with the lizard eye and the motto! Oh, you should be ashamed or at least laugh at more of my jokes. Eli Allen was working for you all along! That’s why he bailed me out. You bailed me out so that I would find Doctor Phand.”

  Miss Aliyah Gale only responded with a mild smile and awaited his answer.

  The idea of joining his rivals as a franchisee was a notion he had never considered as a possibility, and as much as he enjoyed his independence, it was tempting, at least until he remembered what he was really talking to. “What about Emily?”

  Miss Aliyah Gale glanced over at Emily and said, “Her?” From the tone, it seemed she was little impressed by what she had seen. “We already have a specially trained staff at our offices in Gemmen, but I suppose you could bring her along if that’s important to you.”

  What was important was arranging a polite refusal for a phenomenally dangerous employer, and she was making it difficult. Gus glanced over at Emily, who looked unhelpfully intrigued by the proposition. Both women watched him expectantly.

  “Tell me, this Miss Aliyah Gale, the body I mean, where did she come from? Did you just make her from clay, or was she someone once?”

  Miss Aliyah Gale tilted her head quizzically at the change of direction but then gave an indifferent shrug and replied, “Some farmer’s daughter, I think. She was born in Aelfua but suffered an injury. Her mind was gone, but I was able to repair the body and make use of it.”

  Emily’s eyes widened at that revelation, and Gus said, “That doesn’t really sound like the life for me. I’ve seen your boys before—very clean-cut, law-and-order types for the most part. I’d imagine they’re very reliable, show up to work on time, honest day’s work, and all that. I rather enjoy the unsavory cases, and I like having the freedom to fix things my own way.”

  The patient smile faded, and Gus tensed to grab Emily and run if needed, but Miss Aliyah Gale just nodded and said, “Very well then, Mister Baston. I am disappointed, but no one can have everything. If you change your mind, I’m sure you will let me know.”

  “Wait, what’s going to happen to Doctor Phand?”

  Miss Aliyah Gale sighed and lifted the pendant necklace from her décolletage. Given her nature, Gus briefly tensed in expectation of some sort of magic and was only slightly disappointed when he realized it was a small watch she used to check the time. It seemed such a natural gesture, but knowing that everything she did was staged by a distant puppeteer, he recognized it as a blunt signal of impatience.

  Still, he pressed on. “Obviously you need him to sign the city’s agreement for the tower, but after you make him do that?”

  “He’ll be sent home, Mister Baston. I’m not that sort of monster.” Turning to leave, she paused and then said, “Mister Salka’tok’tok’ton was also sent home. Whatever his share of your expedition was, it is also in that envelope.”

  The hotel’s clerk hurried to personally open the door for Miss Aliyah Gale as she made her way out, and Emily opened the envelope to peer inside as soon as her back was turned. Emily’s lips moved with her counting as she thumbed through the rail certificates inside, and then she said, “I don’t know what all that business about her body was, but her money seems good. How much of this belongs to Mister Salcat … tot … whatever?”

  Gus watched the doors close behind Miss Aliyah Gale, then turned to Emily and replied, “Oh, probably none of it. I mean, he was very clear he wanted no part of that deal. If it’s any consolation, he owns a very expensive nightclub here in town, and we could spend a great deal of money there tonight, now that we’re flush.”

  “Certainly not! I’ve spent more than enough time out here on the fringes. We’ll go out on the next train.” She turned and headed toward the door, refusing his forthcoming effort to convince her to spend time enjoying Khanom before their return home.

  With a sigh, Gus walked to the front desk to check the safe, then collect his carpet bag and mandolin. Limping out with them, he found Emily had already flagged down a taxi. The cabman tossed his things onto the roof as she climbed inside, and Gus felt a renewed pang of melancholy over Louis’s death. Even seeing Sylvester’s house collapsing, the avengement did nothing to assuage the loss.

  Emily reached down to help him into the taxi, and as he pulled inside, he glanced down at the envelope and said, “Some of that is for Louis, though. His family, I mean.”

  She nodded in agreement, and as the cab began rolling forward, she stared out the window, looking a little melancholy herself. After an awkward moment of silence, he finally asked, “Are you alright? After the elf and all that …?”

  Emily shook her head but held up a hand as if to ward off the very topic. “For now, I’d just rather not think on it.”

  It was a sentiment he could understand.

  Thinking of her recovery, he wondered if Dorna Michts had survived. If she did, would she revive the Wardens and try to find a better elf? What else would she do if she gave all that up? She was an admirably stubborn woman or had been anyway.

  They arrived at Khanom’s main hub and saw the westbound already pulling in to the station. Emily hurried to the ticket office to exchange one of the rail certificates for coin and ticket while Gus wrangled his luggage and paid for the taxi out of his thinning wallet. Noticing their hurry and Gus’s limp, the driver he
lped him all the way to the platform, and feeling generous based upon whatever was in Miss Aliyah Gale’s wallet, he tipped the man a whole three peis.

  Emily met him there with no luggage beyond the envelope and her ticket. She grinned at him as they waited for the arriving passengers to finish off-loading, and when he raised a curious eyebrow at her suddenly cheery demeanor, she replied, “I’m looking forward to traveling first class.”

  “First class? My return’s only for third!”

  Waggling the envelope at him, she said, “Then I suppose you’ll be riding back alone.”

  Astonished by her sudden spendthrift, he said, “How much is in there?”

  “Plenty. We could both use a weekend in the country. Maybe you should take some of the extra cash and go get the cure.”

  “Cure for what?”

  “All your drinking! If you weren’t always so hung over, you could make it to work on time in the mornings. Mister Hallin’s been calling about his divorce for weeks.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my drinking! I do it as well as three regular men put together. Besides which, if you recall, Hallin’s wife wasn’t actually cheating on him. What am I supposed to do?”

  Emily smirked, looked him up and down, and then said, “I’m sure you could be charming if you cleaned up a bit. When we get home, I’ll tell Mister Hallin to bring along reliable witnesses.”

  ~ ~

  The AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Thank you, dear reader, for joining me here once again!

  While writing Gedlund, I was struck by the convergence of so many great tales that had emerged from the latter nineteenth century. The same period that held Alan Quartermain and Gunga Din also played host to Sherlock Holmes and the Lone Ranger. Epic adventures of great variety abounded in a world of ever-expanding possibilities.

  As a result, this was a very different book than the last! The mystery story was invented after the Road Hill House murder in the 1860s, so for this second story, I have tried to bring some of that into my world of fantasy.