The Relic Guild

by Edward Cox

  The Aelfirian aide walked to the centre of the hall, where two glass elevator shafts rose up to disappear into the high ceiling. As the automaton waited behind Marney and Denton, the aide stopped before the right side elevator, whose door was open. He folded his arms across his chest and faced the Relic Guild agents.

  He addressed Denton. ‘You will wait here,’ and then, without so much as glancing at Marney, added, ‘Lady Amilee wishes to see your colleague alone.’

  Before Marney could express her surprise or raise any objections, the automaton began ushering her towards the elevator.

  Denton? she thought desperately.

  Don’t concern yourself, Marney, he replied. Although there was a hint of surprise in his emotions, he was also clearly amused. And pleased. I will be waiting when you return.

  As soon as the automaton had steered Marney into the elevator, it stepped back, and the clear glass doors slid closed. Marney’s stomach tingled as she began to rise. She placed a hand against the glass, her wide eyes watching Denton’s grin receding from her.

  His gentle voice entered her head. Experience, Marney. You should feel honoured. And then she could no longer see him.

  The elevator ascended the glass shaft, up into the shadows, up beyond the ceiling of the grand hall, higher into the Tower of the Skywatcher. A light prism flickered into life, bathing Marney in its pale glow. All remained dark outside the glass. The thump of her heart was loud in her ears. She steadied her breathing and marshalled her emotions.

  The ascent didn’t last long, and soon the doors slid open onto another hall. Cautiously, Marney stepped out of the elevator. Underfoot, the floor was made of clear glass, beneath which luminous purple mist drifted. The hall was circular, with a smooth wall that glowed with a dim, metallic grey. High above, the ceiling was domed, and Marney guessed this was as high as the tower went.

  Marney flinched as she noticed a tall and lithe woman standing at the centre of the glass floor. The woman watched her for a moment more, and then advanced with graceful movements. She was smiling as she came. She wore a diaphanous white gown, but was clearly naked beneath it. Her scalp was as smoothly shaven as Van Bam’s and a black diamond was tattooed onto her forehead. She came to stand within a few feet of Marney – close but not so close as to seem intimidating – and stared with unblinking eyes, round and tawny.

  Marney knew that she stood before Lady Amilee. The black diamond tattoo on her forehead was the mark of the Thaumaturgist. It was the same mark the Genii had burned from their own skins with acid in a show of defiance towards the Timewatcher.

  But this woman seemed so human-looking.

  Marney skipped away as wings suddenly sprang from the Thaumaturgist’s back and fanned out. They shimmered like polished metal, yet their movements were as soft and pliable as flesh and feather. They stretched as least twice Marney’s arm-span.

  Lady Amilee chuckled warmly at her surprise. ‘This is my observatory,’ she said, voice low and kind. ‘And you are most welcome here, Marney.’

  Marney found she had no voice.

  ‘I apologise for my aide, Alexander,’ Amilee continued. ‘He has spent too long in isolation, I’m afraid, and he rarely takes kindly to visitors. But he serves me well.’

  Still Marney could not speak. She had the sudden and daunting realisation that this woman standing so resplendent before her, this Thaumaturgist they called ‘Skywatcher’, had at some time gazed upon the very face of the Timewatcher Herself.

  Amilee chuckled kindly. ‘So, you are the Relic Guild’s latest addition – and an empath, no less.’

  Marney nodded, mutely, unable to avert her eyes from Amilee’s tawny stare.

  Amilee turned her back and took a few steps away. Her wings folded through slits in her diaphanous gown and nestled against her back, hanging down past the backs of her knees. Against her skin, the silver wings shimmered like liquid in the purple glow of the mists beneath the glass floor.

  Still facing away from Marney, Amilee said, ‘Denton is a fine teacher, don’t you agree? And a gentleman to boot.’

  Marney blinked. ‘Yes. I-I owe him a lot.’

  ‘He’s always such a pleasant character to be around. Not a bad word to say about anyone.’

  Amilee turned and gazed across the glass floor. ‘You do not like to think about his advanced age, do you?’ She moved forwards to stand close to the empath again. Marney resisted the urge to back away as Amilee reached out a hand and stroked her face almost lovingly. ‘Denton will not always be with you, Marney, and you need to accept that.’

  Amilee’s words were not spoken unkindly, but she had hit a nerve. Marney worked hard to avoid thinking of the day when Denton would no longer be around, when she would have to face the world without his guidance.

  The Skywatcher looked Marney up and down, studying her, and she seemed pleased with what she saw.

  She said, ‘It has long been my duty to meet each new member of the Relic Guild, to hear your promises that you will serve the Resident and protect the denizens of Labrys Town above all other things. But I suspect you have already been upholding that promise for some time now – and most adequately, I’m sure.’

  Marney managed a small smile.

  ‘Ordinarily, Marney, you would have been summoned to me before now, but the war with Spiral has changed many things. However, I am nonetheless happy to make your acquaintance.’

  Marney nodded, but couldn’t think how one was supposed to respond to such a greeting from a Thaumaturgist. She was acutely aware of Denton’s absence.

  ‘Don’t be frightened, child,’ Amilee said. ‘All your friends have at one time stood before me. Samuel, Van Bam – and, yes, even your great and wise mentor.’

  ‘They never mentioned it,’ Marney said in a quiet voice.

  ‘Nor would they.’ The Skywatcher smiled again. ‘Some experiences are personal and not for sharing. And what is learned at my tower is so very deeply personal, Marney. Would you like to see what is waiting for you?’

  Marney frowned.

  With surprising speed, Lady Amilee closed the remaining distance between them. She turned Marney around and wrapped her arms around her, crossing over Marney’s chest. ‘Hold tight,’ Lady Amilee whispered into her ear.

  Marney barely had time to take a breath before Amilee spread her silver wings and vaulted into the air. The glass floor of the observatory dissolved to nothing. Jets of luminous purple mist blasted upwards like steam from a vent. The acrid stench of magic filled Marney’s nostrils and then she was flying, gliding on warm updrafts, spiralling higher and higher. Amilee ascended so fast that Marney thought they would crash into the domed ceiling. The rushing air whipped the yell from her mouth, and just as it seemed there was nowhere left to go, the observatory exploded into infinite light and colour …

  Van Bam and Samuel had to wait until twilight before the fight arena called the Anger Pitt opened its doors to the public. The humidity was already descending, and Ruby Moon was a faint red orb in a darkening sky where clouds had begun to gather. The two agents walked past a long queue of mostly grizzled warehouse workers, who chatted and joked while waiting in line to gamble their hard earned wages on the night’s violence.

  The Anger Pitt was situated deep in the southern district of Labrys Town, on the eastern side of a two square mile landscape of storage warehouses, close to the recycling plants. For longer than anyone alive could remember, it had provided a source of brutal entertainment. It was a popular venue both with the industrial workers who lived in the area, and many other denizens who flocked from every district to watch the fights held there three nights a week. The Anger Pitt was a vastly profitable business for the entertainment council and bookkeepers. It was also a good meeting place for the shady characters of the town’s underworld.

  The queue of denizens ended at a ticket kiosk, where, standing just outside the arena doors talki
ng to one of the doormen, was the woman that Gideon had sent Van Bam and Samuel to meet. She was in her mid-thirties, tall and athletically built, dressed in black leggings and a roll-neck jumper. Her long blonde hair was tied into a tail, and her face verged on the masculine. She halted her conversation when she saw the Relic Guild agents heading her way. With a crooked smile, she came to meet them.

  ‘Hello, boys,’ she said. Her voice was strong and deep, and the look in her blue eyes carried an assured confidence.

  ‘Macy,’ Van Bam greeted, returning the smile.

  She then nodded to Samuel, whose response was as direct and blunt as ever. ‘What have you found?’ he asked.

  ‘Good to see you too, Samuel. Best not to talk here,’ she told Van Bam, and then used her head to motion to the arena doors behind her. ‘Come on, Bryant’s waiting for us inside.’

  Macy led them through the doors, past the scrutiny of the doormen, and ahead of the queue, much to the annoyance of some in the line. Weapons were not permitted in the Anger Pitt, and Samuel had left his rather obvious rifle and revolver behind. As for Van Bam’s glass cane, he had again changed its appearance to that of a wooden walking stick. He leant against it, feigning a limp as he and Samuel followed their guide up a wide staircase.

  At one time Macy had made a good living as a pit fighter, but that was long ago, before she became an agent of the Relic Guild. Along with her twin brother Bryant, magic had blessed Macy with inordinate strength and physical prowess. Even now, her movements as she climbed the stairs ahead of Van Bam were calculated, predatory – her mind was highly tuned to her body. Nowadays, when not protecting the denizens, the twins worked the doors of the clubs and taverns along Green Glass Row, making them well positioned for hearing anything of interest going on in the underworld. They were the Resident’s secret moles. Whatever Macy had discovered regarding Mr Taffin’s information, Van Bam found her presence reassuring, for at the Anger Pitt trouble was far too easy to start.

  At the top of the stairs the group passed through a set of double doors out onto a gallery that looked down over rows upon rows of ascending seats, encircling the small square of the main fight pit. The pit had been laid with fresh sand, which two arena workers raked to a smooth and level surface. The buzz of voices filled the air as hundreds of spectators filed in and took their seats. The air smelt of sweat and stale bodies. The atmosphere was charged, eager for the first fight of the night to begin.

  Macy grinned at Van Bam. ‘Quickens the blood, doesn’t it?’ she said, and he could tell his fellow agent was invigorated to be back at her old hunting ground. ‘This way – my brother’s got us a box.’

  Further along the gallery, she led them through a door on the outer wall and then up two short flights of stairs to a corridor that stretched away to the left and right, lined with archways covered with thin, cheap-looking curtains of some grey material. Macy turned right and walked down the corridor a little way, before holding a curtain to one side to allow Van Bam and Samuel into the private box beyond. Bryant was waiting there, sprawled lazily in his seat as he looked out over the arena.

  He turned to greet his fellow agents. His features were almost identical to his sister’s. His blond hair was cropped close to his scalp, and a deep, pale scar slashed down his cheek from the corner of his left eye.

  ‘Glad you could make it,’ he said, his voice laced with the same inflections as his twin’s. ‘How’s Marney?’ he asked Van Bam with a grin.

  Van Bam shook his head as he and Samuel sat either side of Bryant. Macy took the chair directly behind him. Down below, more and more spectators were filling the arena, and the buzzing atmosphere continued to swell.

  ‘We hear she’s gone to see Lady Amilee,’ Macy said.

  ‘So I am told,’ Van Bam replied levelly.

  She placed her chin on his shoulder. ‘Concerned?’

  Van Bam ignored the question, and the amusement in Macy’s voice. ‘Perhaps you could tell us what you have discovered?’ he said, shrugging her off.

  Macy chuckled. ‘Well, it looks like Taffin was telling the truth. We’ve been asking around about this Llewellyn. Interesting character. Bit of a chancer, by all accounts.’

  ‘He’s got a list of failed business schemes behind him as long as your arm,’ Bryant continued. ‘Seems as though he’s been into just about everything at one time or another.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Macy said. ‘One of his schemes did come good for him, though. He was running messages for Aelfirian Ambassadors during their visits to Labrys Town, and making a good living out of it.’

  Van Bam nodded. ‘If he had dealings with Aelfirian Ambassadors, it would explain his connection to the Aelf who tried to buy the terracotta jar from Carrick.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ Macy said.

  ‘Even more so when you consider Llewellyn’s business collapsed when the war began,’ Bryant added. ‘He started borrowing money to fund other schemes that never panned out. He wound up broke and owing big debts to the wrong kinds of people. To solve his problems, he tried his hand at treasure hunting, and he was definitely part of Carrick’s team.’

  ‘But is he hiding here?’ Van Bam asked.

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Macy. ‘And that’s where things get a little tricky.’

  Bryant sucked air over his teeth. ‘You see, at first, we thought he’d called in a favour, or managed to pay someone off, to get safely holed up at the Anger Pitt. But it turns out Llewellyn is being looked after by a relative.’

  He gave a discreet point with his finger. Van Bam looked to a private box on the opposite side of the arena. There, a man in a sky blue suit held court to a group of other men just as smartly dressed. Each of them appeared to be in the company of a young woman. Van Bam didn’t need to see the man in the blue suit up close to know who he was: Mr Pittman, the owner of the Anger Pitt. The men with him were undoubtedly business associates from the underworld. The young women were probably escorts from Green Glass Row.

  ‘Pittman and Llewellyn are cousins,’ Bryant continued. ‘And, apparently, Pittman’s big on looking out for family these days.’

  ‘Especially when money’s involved,’ Macy added dryly. ‘From what we’ve heard, whoever was trying to buy that jar was willing to pay Carrick through the nose for it. Llewellyn’s cut was going to be fat and juicy, easily enough to pay off his debts – which, by the way, he mostly owes to his cousin over there.’

  Samuel, who had remained quiet during the conversation thus far, decided it was time to give a derisory snort. ‘Where’s Llewellyn now?’

  ‘Upstairs in Pittman’s private apartment,’ Bryant said. ‘But it won’t be easy getting to him. He’s got his own security.’

  ‘And by security,’ Macy emphasised, ‘my brother means Pittman’s got a team of grunts protecting his asset with pistols and rifles and the Timewatcher only knows what else.’

  ‘All you have to do is get me close to him,’ Samuel said, as if it were a simple thing. He pulled up his trouser leg, reached into his boot, and produced a small snub-nosed pistol. ‘Give me five minutes alone with Llewellyn – I’ll get what we need. Pittman’s a greedy bastard. Even he won’t try anything while I’ve got a pistol to his money’s head.’

  Bryant rolled his eyes. ‘Samuel, even if I was stupid enough to test Pittman’s greed – which I’m definitely not, by the way – do you honestly think the four of us could walk away from any trouble we start here?’

  Samuel didn’t reply and slid the pistol back into his boot, moodily.

  ‘Perhaps we should talk to Gideon,’ Van Bam suggested, which didn’t much improve Samuel’s sour expression. ‘He could arrange a raid on the Anger Pitt. While the police are keeping everyone busy, we can smuggle Llewellyn back to the Nightshade for questioning.’

  ‘Don’t think we haven’t thought of that,’ Macy said. ‘But it’s not an option. See, we’ve heard Llewellyn’s in a ba
d way. Pittman’s paying a doctor to stay with him at all times, just keeping him breathing until he gets his money. Llewellyn probably wouldn’t survive a move to the Nightshade.’

  Van Bam nodded slowly.

  ‘So,’ Bryant said, ‘if we want to know where this artefact came from, and who was trying to buy it, we need to talk to Llewellyn here and now, while he’s still breathing, and before word of Carrick’s death gets out. And we need to do it the sneaky way.’ He leant forwards and gave Van Bam’s walking stick a light flick. The illusion of wood gave off a musical, distinctly glassy chime. ‘The Relic Guild way, if you know what I mean?’

  Macy rested her chin on Van Bam’s shoulder again and grinned. ‘Are you ready, boys?’

  Samuel was on his feet before any of them. By his body language, he was eager to be doing something – anything – other than sitting around talking.

  ‘Let’s do this quick,’ Bryant said, ‘while Pittman’s busy with his cronies.’

  Van Bam took a final look across the arena. Pittman was looking over the balcony, down onto the cheap seats, where it seemed as though he would be enjoying the profits from yet another full house. Van Bam then followed Samuel and the twins out of the box to the corridor beyond the curtain.

  Having first ensured that no denizen was around to view his actions, Van Bam dropped the illusion on the green glass cane and held it out, vertically. Once his fellow agents had each gripped the green glass with one hand, Van Bam stabbed it down against the floor, whispering to the illusionist magic in his veins as he did so. A dim chime was followed by a soft pulse of green light as the cane amplified his magic to surround the group. A moment passed, and then, one by one, each of them became invisible.

  Van Bam knew that Samuel, Macy and Bryant could not see him or each other, but he could see them. His fellow agents appeared as lines of magic, like pale green skeletons. The illusion would last as long as his glass cane remained in his hand, and his companions remained in his immediate vicinity.

  ‘Right,’ said Macy. ‘Bryant will lead us up to Pittman’s apartment. Van Bam, you can see us well enough to follow. Samuel, hold my hand so you don’t get lost – there’s a good boy.’