It would have been completely impossible without Sienna and her contacts, Emily thought, sourly. Too many secrets had leaked out over the last few days. Someone with an imagination could probably put the pieces together and work out how to create their own entity, if they were foolish enough to try. And even with the staves, this is still a gamble.
She shivered as General Pollack dismissed the first group of resistance fighters. She’d worked through the equations, using what she’d learned from the Mimic to understand how Justice worked, but she knew there was no guarantee of success. Whoever had designed the Mimic she’d killed had been careful to leave a safeguard, a simple trick that could be used to destroy the creature. But the Fists of Justice hadn’t even known they needed a safeguard, let alone possessed the skill to implant one. No trained sorcerer would have risked casting so many spells without a solid idea of what they did.
Frieda nudged her. “You sure you’re all right?”
“Yes,” Emily said, crossly. She’d eaten enough to keep her going. “I’ll survive.”
She ran her hand through her hair as General Pollack dismissed the second group of fighters, sending them out to wreak havoc. The Fists of Justice would know, of course, that the attacks were diversions, but they’d still have to deal with them. Large parts of the city were already starting to starve, something General Pollack insisted would undermine the new government. Emily hoped he was right. The Fists of Justice had banned fishing boats from leaving the Caldron, but they’d presumably stockpiled food in anticipation of having thousands of hungry mouths to feed.
Unless they planned to feed the starving to their god, she thought, grimly. They might have planned to purge everyone who wasn’t already committed to them.
“Karan and I will be leaving in ten.” General Pollack glanced at his watch, although Emily was sure he could feel time ticking away. “Dear, a word?”
Sienna nodded, tight-lipped. She followed her husband into the next room, leaving the youngsters alone. Emily found herself torn between speaking to Caleb, even though his siblings were also in the room, and keeping her mouth closed. She didn’t know what to say – or even if she should say anything. Frieda hadn’t helped by insisting everything was Caleb’s fault…
She closed her eyes for a long moment, centering herself. There would be problems…of course there would be problems. But she’d survive. If worse came to worst, she could put their plans into action herself, without him. The University didn’t need Caleb, did it? But she didn’t want to shut him out of his dream…she shook her head, silently promising herself that she would talk to Lady Barb as soon as possible. She needed advice from someone she trusted to be helpful, but detached.
Sienna returned, tapping her staff on the ground. “Let’s move. Time is not on our side.”
Croce rose, looking pleased to be finally doing something. Emily looked at Caleb, feeling another pang, then stood and followed them to the door. Frieda slipped up next to her as Sienna checked the wards and opened the wooden door. The stench of poverty flowed into the room.
“Make sure we have everything,” Sienna said. “We won’t be coming back.”
Outside, the streets were even darker than the previous night. Justice’s presence seemed ever more powerful, whispers filling the air whenever Emily allowed her mental defenses to slip. Sienna’s wards had done an effective job at shutting out the entity’s influence, but now…Emily glanced at Caleb, feeling a flicker of genuine concern. Caleb was hurting, just like her. Who knew what Justice’s influence would do to him?
Or to me, Emily thought, as she cast a night-vision spell. Or to any of us.
She resisted the urge to cover her ears as they hurried down the darkened streets. The whispers couldn’t be shut out so easily. She gritted her teeth, raising more defenses as she looked around. Fishing Plaice was a nightmare, stone and wooden buildings piled on buildings until the entire complex had become a maze. She forced herself to breathe through her mouth as the smell of rotting fish – and too many unwashed humans in close proximity – grew stronger. Sienna had banned her young daughters from visiting Fishing Plaice, Emily recalled. Emily didn’t blame her for a second.
“The streets are not normally this quiet.” Caleb slipped up beside her, his face pale in the darkness. He sounded as though he was trying to carry on, despite everything. “This place never sleeps.”
Emily nodded. General Pollack had told her that a bunch of Fists had tried to enter Fishing Plaice, only to be driven out by the locals. Surprisingly, Janus hadn’t launched an all-out attack…or, perhaps, it wasn’t that surprising. Fishing Plaice would be an absolute nightmare for any hostile force, a place where the defenders knew the region intimately and could turn it against the invaders. Better to leave them to starve than to risk an offensive.
Or maybe they’re preparing to send Justice into Fishing Plaice, Emily mused. Or do they think we can push him out?
She glanced at Caleb. Was he trying to pretend their argument had never happened? Or was he trying to put his emotions behind him, during the mission? Or…she shook her head in annoyance. Boys were so hard to understand, sometimes. But then, she’d heard boys saying that girls were hard to understand too. It wasn’t that hard, was it? But then, she’d often found her fellow girls hard to understand too…and she was a girl. The boys didn’t even have that advantage.
“They must be hiding,” Emily said. She doubted the locals were sleeping. “Are they going to get in our way?”
“Probably not,” Caleb said. “We’re not a threat.”
Emily looked at the darkened houses as they slipped down a narrow street. They looked…shabby, as if the owners couldn’t be bothered to maintain them properly. Small piles of garbage were everywhere, adding to the stench. There was no rubbish collection service here. The remainder of the city might be reasonably clean, by local standards, but Fishing Plaice was a mess. She doubted any of the permanent residents gave much of a damn about hygiene.
The ones who have the drive to get out do, she thought, as they halted on the edge of the district. And those who don’t are trapped until they die.
Emily sucked in her breath. A large building lay ahead of them, wrapped in shadow. Beyond it, Emily saw the sea…they were right on the edge of the island. The stench was stronger, somehow, sinking into her very bones. She had no idea how the locals managed to tolerate it, day in and day out. She’d have to burn her clothes and bathe for hours when she finally managed to leave the city.
“Stay here,” Sienna hissed. “I’ll beckon you when the time comes.”
Caleb reached for Emily’s hand as Sienna hurried into the darkness. Emily hesitated, then pulled her hand back. They couldn’t hit the reset button, no matter how much she might wish they could. Afterwards, if they survived, they would have to sit down and have a proper chat about the future. And decide what – exactly – they wanted from each other.
Alassa knew she was working towards marriage, Emily thought, numbly. And Imaiqah knew she just wanted to have fun.
Frieda popped up behind them, leaning forward and peering towards the sewage plant. Emily was almost relieved. Frieda would save her from having to have that conversation until they were safe. She pushed her emotions out of her head as Sienna returned, looking pleased with herself.
“The original guards were gone,” she said. She motioned for them to follow her back to the building. “I dealt with the newcomers.”
Emily glanced around with interest as they walked up to the doors and into the building, trying to ignore the seven dead bodies on the ground. She’d never grown used to seeing death, even though it had been a constant companion since Shadye had kidnapped her for the first time. She didn’t even want to think about how many people had died, directly or indirectly, because of her. Vesperian would never have been able to lure so many investors into his web without her innovations. And she’d heard that some of his investors had committed suicide after his death.
“This place stinks,” F
rieda said, wryly. “What is it?”
“A wonder of the world.” Sienna sounded oddly amused as she opened a hatch and motioned for them to climb down. “The Sewers of Beneficence.”
Emily nodded in agreement when Frieda shot her a questioning look. The sewers were a wonder of the world, all the more so for not using any magic at all. Beneficence had cold running water piped to every home – at least, every home connected to the water pipes – and a web of sewers to take away the waste. And now, with manure being sifted for saltpetre and other chemical compounds, the sewers were profitable. She groaned as Sienna launched a light globe into the air, casting an eerie radiance over the scene. It was somehow not a surprise to spot the ‘V’ emblazoned into the wall.
Emily scrambled down the ladder into a chamber that looked like a giant swimming pool, only one crammed with liquid waste rather than water. Emily felt her stomach churn as the stench somehow managed to grow even worse…she forced herself to look away as Sienna led them towards a giant tunnel heading into the darkness. There would be all sorts of bacteria breeding in the pool, she knew, as well as methane. Striking a match might cause an explosion. Or was that right? There was a way to get methane from manure, if she recalled correctly. She just couldn’t remember how.
Something to think about, she told herself. The ledge felt dangerously narrow, given the risk of falling into the slop. If we can make methane, what can we do with it?
It didn’t get any better as they made their way down the tunnel. The ceiling was too low for comfort, even though she knew it was safe. Sienna and Caleb had to keep their heads down as they walked to avoid bumping them into the ceiling; Emily was shorter, but she still kept her head down, fearing contact with the roof. She clearly saw a faint slime lining the walls, droplets of water dripping down and plopping into the sewer. The sewage itself seemed to ripple, although there was no wind. Emily kept a wary eye on the liquid as they headed further down the tunnel. The stories she’d heard about alligators in the sewers suddenly seemed creditable.
Frieda coughed, suddenly. The noise was so loud that Emily jumped.
“Quiet,” Sienna hissed.
“Sorry,” Frieda said. “But how do we know we’re heading in the right direction?”
“I have a blood tie to Marian,” Sienna snapped. “We’re heading straight towards her.”
Or as close to straight as possible, Emily thought, as they passed a crossroads and crawled over a bridge barely wide enough for a child. She had no idea how much the sewage workers were paid, but it wasn’t enough. Maintaining the network had to be an absolute nightmare. We should come up in Temple Row, but what if we can’t get all the way up?
She felt her magic tingle and knew the answer. We’ll have to blast our way through the roof.
“They keep talking about monsters down here,” Croce said. He was bringing up the rear. “All the sorcerers who flush their experiments down the drain…”
“That practice was banned years ago.” Sienna glanced back, annoyed. “Although the giant spiders ate up the giant cockroaches.”
Emily swallowed, hard. She hoped Sienna was joking.
Pouring potions down the drain would be dangerous, she reminded herself. Professor Thande had cautioned them, time and time again, to be careful when disposing of alchemical brews…even ones that had seemingly failed. Putting a dozen failed potions in the same place was asking for trouble. Most sorcerers and alchemists would know better, wouldn’t they?
She pushed the thought aside as Sienna reached a ladder, leading up into the darkness. A reddish liquid dripped down into the sewage. Emily turned away, revolted. It looked like blood. She didn’t think she wanted to know for sure. If someone had died up there…
“Keep back,” Sienna ordered. “I’m going up.”
Emily felt her skin crawl as Caleb’s mother scrambled up the ladder. The sense of something being wrong, very wrong, was growing stronger. And yet…she flinched as she heard a clanging sound, followed by a flash of magic. The trickle of blood turned into a stream.
“Come on up,” Sienna hissed.
Emily glanced at Caleb, who shrugged and started to climb the ladder. Emily followed him, trying to keep her mouth firmly closed. The blood splashed over her fingers and stained her clothes, making the ladder slippery as she inched her way upwards. Caleb helped her out when she reached the top, allowing her to look around. The floor was awash in blood, slowly flowing to the hatch and pouring down into the sewer. She looked up and stared in disgusted horror. Bodies, countless bodies, hung from meathooks, blood dripping to the floor. They had suffered the death of a thousand cuts.
They must have used something to keep the blood from clotting, she thought, numbly. She felt as though she’d gone beyond horror, beyond feeling anything. Then they hung them up here to die.
“Fuck,” Frieda muttered.
Emily glanced at her. Frieda was covered in blood. They were all covered in blood, their clothes clinging to their bodies as blood pooled in their boots. Emily wanted a bath, but she knew she didn’t have time. They had to find Marian and destroy Justice. There was no other choice.
“It beats falling in the sewage,” Croce said.
Frieda smiled. Emily glanced from one to the other, then dismissed the thought. She’d been taught not to treat blood lightly, to do everything in her power to make sure none of her blood ever fell into enemy hands. And even a dead man’s blood could be used in a potion or turned against his relatives…she looked up at the bodies again and shivered. This wasn’t part of a dark rite or a ritual, not as far as she could tell. It was savagery, plain and simple.
“This way,” Sienna said.
Emily had a flicker of déjà vu as they made their slow way out of the chamber and up the steps. The temple was as dark and silent as the grave, yet she could feel Justice’s presence all around her. There were no guards, no one trying to block their way…she wondered, darkly, what it meant. Had General Pollack drawn off everyone? Or did Janus feel his god could protect itself? She wouldn’t have bet against it. Janus truly believed he’d summoned a god.
That might work against him, she mused. They reached the top of the stairs and headed down the corridor. Perhaps we can break his faith.
She tested the staff, carefully. The spell should work…she thought. But if it didn’t…
“We’re on the ground floor.” Sienna touched her hand to her heart, then moved it around until she was pointing at a pair of stone doors. “She’s in the hall.”
Croce moved forward, staff at the ready. “On three?”
“On three,” Sienna confirmed. “Get ready.”
Emily braced herself as Sienna counted down to zero, then cast a powerful blasting spell at the doors. They shattered, pieces of rock flying in all directions as Croce and Caleb ran forward. Sienna, Emily and Frieda followed them into the room…and stopped. Justice stood in front of the altar, his presence so overwhelming that it was like running into a brick wall. Behind him, Emily barely made out Marian lying on the altar. She was wrapped in powerful magic…
“Welcome,” a mocking voice said. Emily glanced around. Janus stood by the wall, leaning on his staff. A thin smile played over his face. “You will be judged.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
SHIT, EMILY THOUGHT.
She forced herself to think as Justice’s presence beat against her wards. She’d reworked them over the last few hours, using everything she’d learned to block the entity’s influence, but it was still wearing them down. The rune on her chest burned, as if the entire room was supercharged with subtle magic. It felt like overkill. Anyone who spent more than a few minutes in Justice’s presence would be drawn to him, subtle magic or not.
“You’re mad.” Sienna’s voice sounded faint, as though she were a very long way away. “This…this thing is not a god.”
“And yet, he will pass judgement on you.” Janus didn’t sound angry. He didn’t sound as though he had anything to defend. He sounded…as though he was so
absolutely sure of himself that he didn’t need to crush dissent. “He is a god!”
Emily looked at Justice, trying to see through the haze. The entity had definitely grown stronger, its presence more substantial…it was hard, so hard, to make out a face, but she was sure there was intelligence looking back at her. It wasn’t a Mimic, she reminded herself, sharply. The sole Mimic she’d encountered had been driven by hunger and malevolence, but Justice was different. He – it, perhaps – felt like a stern father, peering down at her from on high. She wasn’t sure she wanted to look any closer. The entity’s sheer presence might infect her mind.
It’s an idea, she thought, numbly. And ideas spread from mind to mind.
She looked past the entity, trying to see Marian. Caleb’s sister was wrapped in magic, yet…she was clearly being prepared for sacrifice. It was hard to tell if Marian was awake and aware or not, but…she’d clearly bitten off a bit more than she could chew. Emily wanted to walk around the entity and check Marian personally, yet her legs refused to move. The entity had them in its clutches.
“Let my daughter go,” Sienna snapped. “She’s an innocent!”
“No one is innocent,” Janus informed her. “All must be judged.”
Emily felt a hot flash of envy. Marian had betrayed them, willingly or not. And yet, Sienna was still prepared to fight for her daughter, even if the fight seemed hopeless. Marian didn’t know how lucky she was…
Sienna raised her staff. “Name me one person who is completely without sin,” she challenged. “Your monster will destroy everyone!”
Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12) Page 34