The Wind Merchant

by Ryan Dunlap

  She shut the book and inspected the binding. “The gilding on the paper is a different shade of gold. Someone actually went through the trouble to bind and paint it so nobody would notice the missing pages.”

  “Hey, at least you know you’re on to something. We just need to figure out what happened in Bogues.”

  The squeaky wheel announced Wilfrid’s imminent arrival. Callie shot up from her seat, rushing up to him with blank pages exposed.

  “Well now, what’s this?” Wilfrid asked, examining the paper.

  “Someone rebound blank pages here,” Callie said, offering the book.

  Wilfrid took it, stacking it atop two other books. He then carefully placed his reading glasses atop his nose and furrowed his brow, inspecting it. “Perhaps it is a misprint. I can check with the front desk to see if we have another edition in the archives. My apologies,” Wilfrid said with a serious nod. “In the meanwhile, I’ve brought you a book on folklore from one of the territories closest to The Wild: The Demons of Bogues.” He offered a cotton-bound purple hardback. “And a children’s book.”

  Callie looked at the illustrated cover Wilfrid still held. It showed two clockwork Elders, one with decidedly feminine features, and a smaller clockwork, all standing above the title. “The Littlest Elder?”

  Wilfrid chuckled. “I’m afraid The Great Overload didn’t leave much time to…document the subject.” He placed The War of Time, Volume II in his cart and turned to head down to the front desk.

  “What’d we get?”

  Callie tucked The War of Time, Volume I underneath an arm and held up each book for Ras to see.

  “I call the one with pictures,” Ras said.

  The sound of footfalls clapping on tile echoed through the library. Ras and Callie turned their attention to the man in a Collective uniform running up to the information desk, arriving just before Wilfrid.

  The man in uniform placed two stacks of posters with dark black print atop each.

  “What does it say?” Callie asked. “My eyes aren’t the best.”

  Ras squinted. “One says…wanted. The other…Oh no.”

  “What?”

  “Kidnapped.” He could only assume whose faces were sketched underneath. “We have to go, now.”

  Before Wilfrid could study the posters, Ras pulled Callie into an unoccupied aisle. He heard a muffled sniffle beneath the hat and oversized green jacket, and he lifted the front brim of the bowler to see Callie’s wet eyes look up at him.

  “What have I done?” she said in a whimper.

  “You didn’t do anything.”

  “Exactly. If I had laid everything out in front of my parents instead of just leaving—”

  “You’d still be stuck in a basement in a sinking city,” Ras whispered. “Just look at where you are now.”

  “I’m in the library I’ve always dreamed of but can’t enjoy because that sweet old man is probably going to realize who he was talking to any second now and we’ll be trapped.” She sniffled. “I’m sorry.”

  “Let’s just add this to the list of places I’ll take you, sound good?”

  She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and nodded.

  “We need to get to the first level. I doubt there are any exits from here up.” Ras led Callie to the spiral staircase and quickly descended and hid behind the nearest bookshelf.

  Ras peeked out to see two security guards walking in from outside and setting up a post at the entrance. He ducked back into the aisle. “How about a very quick tour to see if there’s a back exit?” His eyes darted around as he tried to imagine a best course of action, and they fell on Callie. “Good call on the hat.”

  They walked to the end of the aisle away from the entrance and information desk, then turned, following a side wall deeper into the building. Ras caught a glimpse of more security guards amassing around the information desk, taking flyers and studying them.

  “So much for friendly librarians,” Ras said. He ducked low and looked ahead of him to see a set of tables for readers before the bookshelves resumed. The gap would leave them exposed.

  There were a few readers scattered about the tables, so crawling underneath would surely alert the guards.

  “Swap me jackets,” Ras whispered. Callie obliged and they swapped as quietly as possible. “And the hat.” Ras donned the hat, tucking all his hair underneath.

  “I guess looking different is a start,” Callie said.

  “I’ll walk across first. They’ll be trying to spot two people,” Ras said. “If I make it across unnoticed, wait a moment before you follow.”

  “Wait, what do I do if they chase you?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, throw a book at them or knock over a shelf.”

  She looked at him like he had just asked her to skin a kitten with a dull spoon.

  Ras picked a particularly large book off of the shelf and cracked it open. He began walking as casually as he could manage with his head down, checking to make sure that he at least held the book right side up, and pretended to read.

  Heavy footsteps indicated the guards breaking off from the information desk, but Ras didn’t look up to give them a free glance at his face. Thankfully, none of the footfalls seemed to be heading toward him.

  Making it across the open area, he placed the book on a nearby shelf. He looked back at Callie, who held a stern expression, gesturing something about taking a book off the shelf, and Ras realized she was getting onto him for misplacing the book. Ras did his best not to roll his eyes and motioned for her to cross over. She slowly made her way out to the open area but was only a few footsteps in when a guard shouted. Callie froze.

  “Hey, stop her!” a voice from above shouted.

  Ras ran over to Callie to grab her. He looked up to the balcony to see the guard wasn’t facing them at all.

  A thunderous crash resounded and dust flew up from the opposite side of the room a good distance away. The crash was followed by another, then another. Ras watched the tops of one bookshelf after another topple in a cascade.

  “All those books,” Callie murmured.

  “Look at the front door,” Ras said, pointing as security guards filed in toward the commotion and away from the front door. “That’s our cue.”

  Ras looked over and realized that the bookshelves would topple and eventually cut off their exit. It became a race to see if they could get back before the final bookcase fell, blocking their escape.

  They darted back through the same aisle that led to the staircase as the crashing sound grew louder. At some point the cascade doubled in two directions and the toppling bookcases took a shortcut toward the front door.

  “Run!” Ras shouted as they entered the foyer, joining into a mix of other frantic citizens. The increased frequency of the crashes concerned him as they still had two-hundred feet to clear and only three bookshelves left to outrun. Ras saw a book cart and began to push it.

  The next to last bookshelf collided into the final one by the door. Ras shoved the cart forward as the final shelf toppled, and did so just in time. The bookcase crashed down on the metal box, and the remaining gap gave about three feet of clearance through which to escape.

  Ras slid down to his hands and knees and began to crawl over a pile of books underneath the heavy bookshelf. The wheels on the cart snapped, dropping the shelf by half a foot. Ras flinched but scrambled out and spun around to offer a hand to Callie, who hesitated as the metal cart’s sides began to creak and bend.

  “C’mon!” he shouted to Callie. She shook her head as the cart groaned. “Now or never.”

  Clutching the books to her chest, she got down and began to crawl forward. Ras reached underneath and hauled her out just before the cart fully buckled and collapsed under the weight of the shelf, effectively blocking the entrance.

  “What was that?” Callie asked weakly.

  “Let’s let them sort that out,” he said, then pointed to her books. “Smart move on keeping those.”

  “Oh no! I didn�
��t check these out,” she said. “I’m a criminal…”

  Ras gently grabbed her shoulders and guided her away from the building. “I’m sure we’ll return them on the way back,” Ras said, perking up at the sound of sirens. “I doubt the police will be crosschecking the stamps in the books.”

  They descended the marble staircase as quickly as their adrenaline-filled legs would carry them, catching up with the rest of the escapees and blending into the commotion as the Derailleur police arrived. The uniformed men seemed far more focused on whatever was going on inside the library.

  In the distance, they heard glass shattering and more shouting coming from the direction of the library.

  “We should probably just wait it out at Flint’s,” Callie said, disappointment hanging heavy on her voice.

  “No, we don’t have to.” Ras took the hat off and gave it back to her. “Looks better on you,” he said, “besides, there might be people waiting for us at Flint’s now. Worse comes to worst, we’ll sneak onboard and steal the ship back. Either way, I don’t want to spend my day in one place afraid we’re going to be found,” Ras said.

  Callie attempted a smile, but failed. “Why don’t we check out the shop your dad used to bring you back pocket watches from?”

  “That’d be nice.”

  They walked along a sidewalk far enough away from the library that things seemed peaceful once again.

  “Help me!” The cry pierced the calm.

  Down the alley to their left, three figures brawled, or more correctly, two large men kept a small woman from escaping by throwing her against the nearby dumpster.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Piper

  “I’m sorry!” the young woman cried. “I don’t have anything else.” She whimpered as one of the thugs shook her violently by her collar before throwing her to the ground.

  Ras watched for a brief moment before he changed his course and made a direct line toward the scuffle. “Wait here,” he said over his shoulder.

  “But, I—” Callie sputtered as Ras left.

  Ras walked along the right edge of the alley as quietly as he could so as not to be noticed by the two men. One held a wrench ready to strike the woman, while the other, a balding man with a mustache, grabbed her.

  “Anyone?” she cried desperately. The woman looked to maybe be all of five feet tall and had shockingly white short messy hair. Her frame made a large boom as the mustached man slammed her hard into the dumpster again. She let out an involuntary cry when she hit. Her lip was already bleeding and she was wide-eyed with panic.

  She slumped to the ground as the mustached man let her go. She noticed Ras approaching but tried not to make it obvious by turning her attention back to the two men. “Can I just say one thing?”

  “Wot?” the mustached man said with a grunt. He heard footsteps quickly approaching and turned to see a blur sprinting toward him, but before he had time to react, the blur had already wrapped its arms around his waist, planting a shoulder into his rib cage. The two crumpled to the ground with a hard thud followed by a sickening crack. “Harris!” he shouted before focusing on sucking in air and cradling his ribcage.

  Ras stood, catching his bearings just in time to duck out of the way of a large wrench aimed at his head. “Go!” Ras shouted to the young woman.

  She stood, but instead of running, she placed a swift booted kick to the mustached man’s midsection, expelling what air he had collected in the finest curse he knew.

  Ras flung himself at Harris in an attempt to wrestle the large wrench away, but recognized too late that it was a trick and quickly found himself flipped over the thug’s shoulder, landing squarely on his back. Ras looked up to see the wrench swinging down and rolled out of the way just in time for the wrench to strike pavement instead of skull.

  Spinning on the ground, Ras solidly planted his heel into Harris’ shin, eliciting a scream of pain. He could see the small woman digging around in the jacket pockets of the mustached man but didn’t have time to wonder what she was doing.

  Ras tried to evade Harris’ next swing by rolling out of the way, but he went the wrong direction, planting himself into the side of the dumpster and halting his escape. With nowhere to go, the wrench connected hard with Ras’ left arm. He cried out in pain as the big man reached back to swing again.

  “Ras!” Callie called out.

  He heard a clattering sound grow louder as a metal pipe rolled down the alley, stopping against his leg. Ras dove to collect it and avoided the next swing of the wrench.

  Picking up the pipe, Ras swung low at Harris, connecting with his leg. Harris faltered from the blow and fell to one knee. Ras took the opportunity to jump onto Harris’ back and pressed the pipe against the man’s throat.

  Harris flailed wildly in an attempt to remove Ras and swung the wrench over his shoulder like an oversized flyswatter, almost connecting with Ras’ head. The wrench instead slammed into Ras’ shoulder. He winced but pulled the pipe even tighter, and Harris collapsed into a heap before he could swing the wrench again.

  Ras looked up to see the mustached man down for the count as well. He shakily came to his feet, looking for Callie, who stood fifteen feet away, clutching her books.

  “Are you all right?” she asked Ras.

  Before he could respond, the small white-haired woman stood up from behind the dumpster and launched herself at him.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She wrapped her arms around him, then put her hands on the sides of his face, stood on her toes, and kissed him full on the lips. “You saved me! Oh, I could kiss you! Wait, I just did. I’m sorry, I just got caught up in the moment,” she said rapidly with an almost childlike voice.

  She released his face, freeing Ras to touch his lips, still in shock. He felt a slight stickiness and pulled his hand away to see a bit of the woman’s blood.

  Callie unclenched her jaw before speaking. “What happened here?”

  The sprite-like woman turned on her heel to face Callie. “Oh, not just here, about half a dozen of them attacked me in the library. These two were just the most persistent.” She leaned over, grabbed the wrench from Harris’ hand, and offered it to Ras with a deep bow. “A trophy to commemorate your great victory and to remember the day you saved Dixie Piper!”

  Ras hesitantly accepted the makeshift weapon.

  Dixie offered her hand next. “People call me Dix, Dixie, Pip, Pipe, or Piper, and I hate all but two of those, so choose wisely.” She winked.

  “Ras. Pleasure,” he said, still a bit shaken from the wrench strikes. He took her hand and gave a nod.

  “Pleasure. Say, can we not be here when these two wake up?” Dixie asked, pointing a finger and oscillating it between the two men.

  “So the library was you?” Callie asked.

  “Indirectly,” Dixie said, chagrined. “Again, may I stress the importance of not remaining here?”

  “Yeah, we should…we should go,” Ras said, still a bit stunned. He shoved the wrench under his belt and began to walk back toward the alley entrance. He looked over to see Dixie walking quickly to keep pace.

  She was clad in tight-fitting, gray pants draped with a couple belts over her slender waist, a white shirt marred with a few drops of blood, and a fashionably-cut purple leather jacket.

  “Why were they attacking you?” Ras asked.

  “Oh, them? They don’t like me,” Dixie said dismissively.

  “Any reason in particular?” Callie asked.

  “I kinda got their boss put in jail,” she said. “Sky pirates. Hate ‘em. You two aren’t pirates, are you? Of course not, you don’t look the type. Besides, sky pirates don’t help people in alleys that are about to get killed.” The speed with which she spoke dizzied Ras.

  “Ah, Dixie? Sorry to interrupt your conversation, but do we need to get you to somewhere safe?” Ras asked.

  “Me?” she asked. “I am somewhere safe. I’m with you,” she said with a winning smile. They made it back to the sidewalk outside of t
he alley. “And I dare say that I owe you something of a favor.”

  “That’s not necessary, I was just trying to help,” Ras said.

  “And you succeeded, so now I’m trying and hopefully I’ll succeed as well. Are you from Derailleur?” she asked.

  “Do we look that out of place?” Ras asked, keeping an eye out for more flyers.

  “Oh, no, no, no, not that. Just most people aren’t from here, and I am something of an immensely talented tour guide if there’s anything you’re looking for,” Dixie said.

  “What happened in the library?” Callie asked unsympathetically.

  “Ah, yeah, that. Well, one of them grabbed me from behind so I kicked off a bookshelf to break free…which worked, but then I started climbing a shelf and when they grabbed me by the ankles to pull me down…book avalanche.” She made a sound with her mouth to replicate an explosion. “And mass destruction. Might as well cut up my library card, huh?”

  “Do you know of any pocket watch shops?” Ras asked to pull the subject away from Callie’s ire.

  Dixie lit up. “Ooh! A request! Excellent. Let’s see…pocket watches, pocket clocks…there’s Crimens, Badger & Fount’s, The Gear Outlet, Orville’s, The Golden Calendar—”

  “Wait,” Ras said. “The Orville one. Where’s that?”

  “That’s about two miles away. Bit of a walk,” Dixie said. “Back on 8th and Holloway.”

  Ras looked at his watch. “We have time.”

  Dixie stopped walking and almost caused Ras and Callie to pile into her. “Let’s just take my skiff!”

  “Oh, we wouldn’t want to impose,” Callie said.

  “No, really! Stay right here and give me ten minutes. I’ll swing by in the channel.” She was off and lost to the crowd almost instantly.

  Ras and Callie stood awkwardly for about a minute. “What if she sees your wanted poster?” Callie asked.

  “I don’t think she’s big enough to drag me into a police station,” he said. “You know, unless she drives us there unwittingly while telling us we’re heading to a pocket watch shop…” Ras trailed off. “We should probably go.”