Chaos Broken

by Rebekah Turner

  ‘We were supposed to go to your old school this morning to ask around about the missing cat,’ Crowhurst reminded me. ‘I was heading this way when Nicola came looking for you.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘You might like to know someone painted something suggestive on the front of your house.’

  ‘What?’ My objections about visiting my old school stuttered to a halt. Rushing outside, I backed down my tiny front pathway. On the front wall, someone had painted across my townhouse.

  He Will Rise.

  It was sprinkling with rain and a group of neighbours watched me from the sidewalk, sheltering under the monstrous ash tree outside my home. Crowhurst poked his head outside.

  ‘You want me to get someone to clean it up?’ he asked.

  ‘What do you think?’ I glanced over at the neighbours, feeling exposed.

  ‘Nice paint job, Lady Blackgoat!’

  Scanning the crowd, I spied a group of streetwalkers grinning at me and looking generally amused. One of them had her hands on her hips and looked like she wanted to start laughing, but needed to get a punchline out first.

  ‘You got something to say?’ I asked her.

  ‘I heard Blackgoat was going out of business. I wanna know if this is some new venture? Who’s the he and what exactly is rising?’ She made a suggestive gesture towards her crotch.

  ‘There’s no such thing happening in this house,’ I shouted, then stomped back inside. Crowhurst had already retreated into the living room and was settled with his nose in the street press.

  ‘What’s it supposed to mean. He is rising? Is that a quote?’ I growled.

  ‘How would I know?’ Crowhurst mumbled. ‘Are you still seeing the freak?’

  I closed my eyes and counted to ten. ‘Roman is not a freak.’

  ‘He’s got giant wings, Lora. Some citizens might talk about him like he’s some sort of saviour for the nephilim, but trust me, I’m a griorwolf and us freaks? We can smell our own.’

  ‘Just because you get hairy and grow fangs once in a while, doesn’t mean you understand what Roman’s going through.’ I gestured towards outside. ‘Look, just arrange for someone to paint over it?’

  ‘Will do, boss.’

  I blew out a long breath. ‘Do we really have to go look for this cat? Can’t we just send a Runner? I’ve faced down assassins and hellspawn. Chasing a feline is degrading.’

  Crowhurst looked at me over the edge of the paper. ‘Headmistress Poulter is expecting you to take care of this personally. Do you really want to pay one of the Runners to find a pet?’

  ‘Actually, I’m pretty sure I do.’

  ‘We can’t afford it.’ Crowhurst ducked his head back into the paper. ‘Besides, what’s the big deal? It’s not like there’s anything else you’re working on. Unless you want to spend the day painting over the new business slogan on your home.’

  ‘Fine. We’ll go.’

  Nicola walked into the lounge room, holding a tray of food and cold bottles of cider. ‘I’ve made bacon and tomato sandwiches.’

  I searched the floor. ‘Where’s the baby?’

  Nicola put the plate down. ‘He has a name, Lora.’

  ‘I know, I know.’ I peeked behind the couch and spied Tarn sitting in the kitchen doorway, chewing on his fist. Our eyes locked, and he gave me a smile I found very suspicious.

  Nicola pushed me into a chair and shoved a sandwich into my hands. ‘He’s just started crawling, the exercise is good for him.’

  ‘My floor isn’t that clean,’ I said as I bit into the sandwich.

  Nicola frowned. ‘I noticed. And you don’t look after yourself very well either. Your hair is shocking with all those black roots and streaks. Why did you stop dying it?’

  ‘Too much hassle,’ I muttered.

  Nicola sat back, hands folded in her lap. She appeared to be expecting me to say something. My eyes slid to Crowhurst, who put down the paper and was suddenly fascinated with the sandwich in his hand.

  ‘So…um…thanks for this,’ I said.

  Nicola waved a hand, dismissing her kindness. ‘Have you thought about my offer yet?’

  ‘Offer?’ I arched my eyebrows at Crowhurst questioningly.

  ‘Ah, yes.’ Crowhurst cleared his throat. ‘I hadn’t gotten around to asking Lora yet.’

  ‘Why not?’ Nicola frowned, a line of steel in her voice.

  ‘Yeah, Crowhurst,’ I chimed in. ‘Why not?’

  ‘You won’t like it,’ he said.

  ‘Won’t like what?’

  ‘Honestly. If you want something done, you have to do it yourself.’ Nicola looked at me. ‘I have a proposition for you, Lora. As you know, after my father died, I inherited all of his estates and business dealings. I sold most of them and with the money I’m opening a theatre company, near Avalon Square. We’re hoping opening day will be in a few months.’

  I felt a hand against my leg and jumped, realising the baby had crawled under my legs and was playing with the hem of my dressing gown.

  ‘I’ve been searching for a play,’ Nicola said. ‘A play that’s going to put us on the map.’

  ‘I’m telling you, she won’t like it,’ Crowhurst repeated.

  Nicola ignored him. ‘I don’t want to put on the same tired dramas that have been around for decades. I want a new story, a legend that has been born here in Harken. Something to get people talking, something to make a name for ourselves.’

  Then Nicola opened her mouth and dropped the weirdest bombshell I’d heard in a while. ‘I want to write a serialised play, based on your experiences as a Runner.’

  ‘What?’ The last of my sandwich got stuck in my throat and I coughed, grabbing one of the ciders and gulped it down. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

  Nicola shook her head. ‘This is a serious business offer, Lora. I’d pay you for the rights to your story and you can have final say on what goes into each play. You’d meet with my head writer, who has already started cobbling together information. But I do need your permission and my writer requires your personal insight into what really goes on in the life of a female Runner. So far, I’m thinking we might call it The Rose of Applecross.’

  ‘No.’ I shook my head.

  ‘It’s not the worse nickname you’ve had,’ Crowhurst pointed out.

  ‘Absolutely not.’

  Crowhurst and Nicola exchanged glances, then Crowhurst said, ‘That was my first reaction as well. But then I thought about it. What better way to get Blackgoat Watch back on track? It’s the ultimate advertising opportunity. The work is minimal and the fee would help the company out of the worst of its current financial situation.’

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ I said, though the mention of money stopped me from rejecting the idea outright.

  ‘Lora.’ Crowhurst leant forward. ‘We wouldn’t be in this situation if your contract with the Order hadn’t been cancelled. Do you really want Gideon to come back to a bankrupt company?’

  ‘Dirty.’ I glared at him. ‘That’s low and dirty.’

  ‘It’s the truth.’

  ‘It’s not a very nice one,’ I muttered, then addressed Nicola. ‘So you’d just get some actress to play me? I mean, really?’

  Nicola gave a low chuckle. ‘In fact, I would play you, Lora. After all, I’ve had the opportunity to see you in action first-hand.’

  ‘You?’ My eyebrows rose, remembering the saucy plays she’d been performing in when our paths had first crossed. ‘Pretend to be me?’

  ‘I’ve been taking acting classes for a while. I could pull off a good Lora Blackgoat scowl.’

  I realised I was frowning and made an effort to smooth my face out. ‘Look, can I have some time to think about it? This is all a bit much to take in.’

  ‘Of course,’ Nicola said. ‘But I need to know your answer soon.’

  Chapter 7

  While Crowhurst hailed a rickshaw for Nicola and Tarn, I went upstairs to dress. Picking out a long-sleeved shirt under a tight leather vest, I matched it with black
jeans and my old Tanker boots, customised to house a six-inch blade inside the toes. My work-belt was then strapped around my waist and a dagger tucked into a special sheath in my bra. I left my arm-rig behind, though, thinking it might be slight overkill in a search for a missing cat.

  My old school was tucked away in Flicker Lane, one of the boundary streets of Applecross. The district orphanage loomed opposite, consisting of three connected buildings: an eastern wing for boys, a western wing for girls, and a central administration building. Crowhurst parked nearby and we walked towards the school.

  ‘This is where you were educated, then?’ Crowhurst asked, looking around.

  ‘Uh huh,’ I replied.

  ‘Maybe you should ask for your money back.’

  ‘Hey. I got smarts just fine.’ I cuffed the back of his head. Crowhurst just chuckled and smoothed back his ruffled hair.

  We stepped through the stone gates and up a paved path to the main administration building. Inside, paintings of past school teachers lined the walls, scowling down at us, and uncomfortable wooden benches lined the walls. We approached the desk, where a woman was filing folders into a cabinet. A bell rang out and the noise of children shrieking and laughing filled the air.

  ‘Excuse me,’ I said over the din.

  The woman looked distinctly irritated at being disturbed, but her face quickly smoothed out as she approached, professional smile in place. ‘Can I help you? Are you looking to enrol a child?’

  ‘No. I wanted to talk to Headmistress Poulter. I’m Lora Blackgoat.’

  Her smile faded and her eyes flicked up to my hair. ‘Of course you are.’ She pointed to the end of the hallway, where a door opened to a staircase. ‘Second floor, last room on the right.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said. I wanted to ask what her problem was, but decided against it. I probably didn’t want to know. I had one of those reputations that you couldn’t kill, even if you cut its head off and stuffed the mouth with garlic.

  Crowhurst pulled me aside, nodding at the woman. ‘Why don’t I ask her a few questions about this missing feline.’

  ‘Sure,’ I said. I didn’t relish facing Poulter alone, but Crowhurst had a way about him with women, so I left him to ooze his greasy charm.

  Taking the stairs, I exited on the second floor and found a hallway with a long, sombre grey rug and potted plants dotting the walls. Stopping outside the last room on the right, I rapped my knuckles and waited. After no answer, I tried the doorhandle.

  ‘She’s not there.’

  I turned to see a young girl behind me. She had apricot-coloured hair tied in pigtails and solemn grey eyes, which were currently narrowed in suspicion.

  ‘Do you know where Lady Poulter is?’ I asked.

  ‘Do you have a meeting?’

  I blinked. ‘Do you?’

  The girl cocked her head to the side, then stuck out her hand. ‘You must be Lora Blackgoat. I’m Sabine, Headmistress Poulter’s assistant.’

  After a slight hesitation, I took her hand. ‘Well met. How did you know my name?’

  ‘Lady Poulter was expecting you this morning.’

  ‘Running late, occupational hazard, I’m afraid. Is she around?’

  Sabine nodded. ‘She usually spends lunch in the school greenhouse. I’ll take you.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I hesitated, then asked. ‘I don’t suppose you know where her missing cat is?’

  Sabine laughed as we walked back down the stairs, heading for the schoolyard. ‘Blinky is the worst tomcat. He’s been gone a long time this adventure, but he’ll be back soon enough.’

  ‘Any idea why Poulter would be worried this time?’ I asked.

  ‘She misses him, I suppose. He has been gone extra long this time around.’ Sabine shrugged. ‘You’re probably wasting your time.’

  I sighed. ‘Yeah. I know.’

  The schoolyard was exactly as I remembered from my youth: a cramped rectangle of dirt with patchy tufts of tough, prickly grass. Kids sat in groups, eating and talking. A small crowd gathered around a marbles game in one corner and some girls were playing skip rope in another. Some of the kids ran by us, playing tag, their faces alight with laughter.

  Sabine directed me towards the tall stone wall that hemmed in the back of the yard. A narrow door stood closed in one corner and a group of boys leaned against it. Sabine exhaled a nervous breath as we reached them.

  ‘Where you think you’re going, teacher’s pet?’ asked one of the boys.

  I hesitated, wondering if I was supposed to let her deal with school bullies, or if this was my cue to be the adult and yell at them about manners.

  ‘Get out of our way,’ Sabine said, hands going on hips. ‘You lot aren’t even supposed to be on school grounds. I’m going to tell the Headmistress.’

  The boys exchanged uncertain looks. Then the narrow door swung open and a kid walked out, wrapping a long object in a hessian bag. He was smaller than his buddies, but his pale yellow eyes held a certain authority and the others snapped to attention.

  ‘Kalin,’ Sabine gasped. ‘What are you doing here? You were told never to come here again.’

  The kid shrugged the hessian bag onto his shoulder and didn’t answer. An uneasy sensation rolled through me but I was at a loss for what to do. It didn’t feel right to draw steel against a group of kids. I felt as if I’d been whisked back in time to when I was a chubby girl who always got picked on. With my white hair mistakenly marking me a Witch Hunter, the school children had been merciless. I’d learned to defend myself, both verbally and physically, but the memory still cast faint horror through me. Then I got over it.

  ‘Is Lady Poulter back there?’ I asked him.

  Kalin shrugged. ‘Didn’t see her.’

  ‘Sure you didn’t,’ I said. ‘Now, how about you boys do the right thing and run along.’

  Kalin’s yellow eyes roamed up and down my body. ‘What do we have here? Bit of mutton dressed as lamb?’

  ‘Hey! Just how old do you think I am?’

  ‘Too old for school, that’s for sure.’

  ‘I’m not too old for anything,’ I said, then stopped when I realised I wasn’t making sense. ‘Look, just get out of my way.’

  ‘This is Lora Blackgoat,’ Sabine said. ‘She’s a Runner working for Lady Poulter, so you better move.’

  A muscle around each of Kalin’s yellow eyes twitched. ‘I’ve heard of you. The Witch Hunter who isn’t a Witch Hunter. Whatever does that old bitch need a Runner for?’

  ‘Missing cat,’ I said. ‘You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?’

  ‘Lose her precious kitty, did she?’ Kalin’s lips parted in a nasty smile, exposing alarmingly grey teeth. I suddenly noticed flecks of blood on his chin and neck, and registered that he didn’t quite fit the bill for impressive shaving nicks. Kalin saw something in my face and his smile widened. My fingers fumbled at my belt, but then my arms were grabbed and twisted. Too late, I realised one of Kalin’s goons had snuck around behind me.

  ‘Son of a —’ I struggled, but the hold just tightened. I couldn’t believe I was about to get into a fight. It was like the ghost of school past come back to haunt me.

  ‘You shouldn’t get involved in things that don’t concern you, Runner.’ Kalin adjusted the bag on his shoulder.

  ‘Look kid…I’m pretty sure I’m already destined to spend eternity in the Pit. Doesn’t bother me if I add beating up children to my sins.’

  Kalin grinned at one of his friends. ‘Give her some school spirit, why don’t you.’

  The big guy approached me, fists curling. Sabine grabbed at his arms.

  ‘You leave her alone,’ she cried.

  The guy gave her a shove and Sabine sprawled back into the dirt.

  ‘Real tough guy,’ I snarled. ‘Beating up little girls.’

  The one holding me yanked my arm up harder and I dropped my cane with a pained shout, right as a fist slammed into my stomach. Then I was free and I sank to the ground, trying to catch my breath. Bo
ots entered my vision and someone crouched down beside me.

  ‘I have no idea what he sees in you,’ Kalin whispered. ‘The old man must be blind.’

  Then the boots were gone. After a moment, I could breathe again and didn’t resist when hands helped me up.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Sabine asked, dusting me off. ‘He’s not even supposed to be here. He was expelled a few months ago.’

  A glance at the schoolyard showed me all the other kids were watching us, fear etched clearly on their young faces. Sabine picked up my cane and handed it to me as I concentrated on taking short, painful breaths. She moved to open the narrow door.

  ‘Stop.’ A finely honed sense of something wrong made me stumble in front of her, sucking in a few more mouthfuls of air. Shoving the door open, I found a small courtyard full of neat vegetable gardens and a greenhouse at the end. Sabine marched by me, jaw set.

  ‘Let’s tell Lady Poulter, and she’ll give him what for. Probably get the City Watch involved this time.’

  My hand shot out, pulling Sabine to a halt. ‘Wait here.’

  Ignoring her questioning look, I hurried towards the greenhouse, dread building. The door was ajar and I hit it with my shoulder, sword half-drawn as I charged inside.

  The smell of blood hit me, but the double-take was more from the sight of Poulter lying in a pool of blood, gaping wound in her chest. Keeping clear of the blood, I pressed fingers against Poulter’s throat. Nothing.

  Sighing, I straightened. Under the blood, I saw a Calling Circle had been painted around her, stark white against the rough wooden floor, symbols etched into the outside. I tried to interpret them and made out some random numbers, but they were mostly obscured by blood. A scream erupted from behind me and I whirled around to see Sabine standing there, eyes wide with shock as she stared at Poulter’s body.

  ‘Go,’ I snapped at her. ‘Go and get help now.’

  She didn’t move, so I pulled her from the gruesome sight, marching her towards the narrow exit door.

  Sabine tried to pull free. ‘We have to help her.’

  ‘You can’t help the dead,’ I told her roughly. ‘We’ve got to move. It’s not safe here.’

  ‘Why not?’ Sabine’s face crumpled and tears filled her eyes. She didn’t resist as I pushed her back into the schoolyard, watching carefully for Kalin or one of his buddies.