Another dozen men and women burst into view. Sin’s magic touched my ears and I heard even more behind them. Too many.
“There’s too many!” Eld and I said together.
“This way,” I shouted, tearing off to the right.
“This way!” Eld sounded not-close. I glanced over my shoulder to see him plunging straight ahead, gang members peeling off after him.
I hesitated for a moment and it cost me: a full dozen ran at me, the lead one screaming some sort of primal war cry. I put a round of lead down her throat, then spun around and took off with the rest of the gangs of Servenza in hard pursuit.
Damn it, Eld. I told you to follow my lead. But he’d stopped doing that months ago. Now here we were.
Separated.
Cut off.
Alone.
I sensed more than saw that the right passageway did indeed have a bend; when I turned the corner I nearly fell. Righting myself, I made to tear off again and something, a rope or wire, caught at my feet. I fell with a cry, skinning my hands and knees on the sandy, gritty floor. Before I could rise, cloth slipped over my face. I took a breath and caught a lungful of something biting, both cloying and acidic. My vision went and my mind with it. Sin’s howl was a faint echo chasing me down into unconsciousness.
44
“Easy. Easy!”
The voice was low, earnest, and … friendly?
I opened my eyes to darkness. There was sackcloth against my cheek. I took a careful breath; there was no biting odor, just the sharp smell of bat shit. What had Sin called it? Guano. I suppose since everything had gone to shit, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that I ended back up in that same room. I couldn’t keep the groan from my lips as my stomach clenched at the putrid scent. I reached up, surprised my hands weren’t bound, and pulled the hood off.
“I think I’ve had my fill of guano,” I murmured, blinking against the sudden brightness.
“You’re familiar with the excrement?”
I turned my head too quickly and the shit-filled room spun. I groaned and massaged my temples. A short man in a tight-fitting jacket buttoned to his neck peered at me from behind thick spectacles. When he reached up and touched the rim, the lenses moved, showing they were actually several different pairs welded together. His blue eyes were wide and bright
“Not everyone is, for understandable reasons and so forth.” He smiled uncertainly. “Hello?”
“Who the ruddy fuck are you?” I asked, the streets thick in my voice, as they always were when I was half-awake or, in this case, half-recovered from whatever had been in that hood. I felt like something was missing, but besides my wits I wasn’t sure what. “Why’d you bring me back here?”
“Ah, well.” He dry-washed his oil-stained hands. “As to that, these passages are really just elaborate mazes that bend back on themselves. ‘All paths lead to the Doga’ is a quote I read by a builder once. Or by the scholar studying the builder; woman was illiterate even if she understood the complex science of angles. She was the one who worked out airflow by—Ahem.”
He coughed into his hands and smiled, his lips dark red against his pallid features. “That is to say that you would have reached here eventually, but I thought sooner was better than later and so forth.”
He blinked owlishly at me, then shrugged. “As to who I am. I’ve been known by many things. My cousin called me a little genius, my patron called me his walking dissertation, and the masses knew me as an inventor.” He paused, studying my face. “The Artificer?”
The name sent a faint echo through my mind, like there was too much empty space there. I’d heard it before. But where? Quenta. “You’re the one that helped his cousin murder one of the Normain nobles,” I said. “You disappeared a few months ago.”
“Hmm, not quite.” His frown pulled his mouth down, accentuating his long nose. “I didn’t help my cousin do any such thing. Not sure he was the one that pulled the trigger when it comes to that,” he muttered to himself. “I disappeared right after it happened. Thought keeping a low profile was in order, especially once it became clear he sold my name to the Inquisition in exchange for his own skin.”
“You don’t think he murdered his lover?”
“The evidence is there,” the Artificer admitted. “My cousin was a rash man, that was what Prince Wilfrum loved about him … but murder? Who would have paid for his gambling debts?”
“You?”
“I sank all the money the prince gave me into my school.” He shook his head, knocking his spectacles awry. “No, no, that doesn’t make any sense,” he said, straightening them. “It’s all a bit moot, regardless. The Inquisition was hunting me and once they’ve your scent, it’s a matter of when, not if, and so forth.”
“Yet here you stand,” I said. My head was clear but aching as if I’d had too much wine the night before. And why do I feel like I’m missing something? I smiled to distract him as I reached for the blade I kept behind my belt.
“Ah, your knives are over there,” he said with a nod. “On the table. I thought you might feel a bit like cutting something when you came out of your stupor.”
I eased back against whatever was behind me.
“Careful now,” he said, pointing up.
I followed his finger and realized I was propped up against one of those shit-filled urns.
“Pull that down and you’ll be a month scrubbing it out of your pores.”
“What do you want?”
“Oh, we arrived there sooner than I’d hoped.” He smiled again and nodded. His close-cropped blond hair was plastered to his head from sweat. Mopping at it with a handkerchief, he sank into a crouch opposite me. “I want, what I wager to presume, you want.”
I laughed. “What the fuck do I want?”
“To stop Sicarii?”
The laughter died in my throat. “What do you know about Sicarii?”
“More than you,” he said. “More than I’d like to, truth told and so forth. She kidnapped me before the Inquisition found me, spirited us out of Normain and across the seas to Servenza. At first I thought she saved me, but then as the weeks became months and her plans became clearer, I realized all I’d done was exchanged one captor for another.”
“You’re the one that made Serpent’s Flame,” I guessed.
He nodded.
I squinted. “And that gearwork alley piece and all the other machinery I’ve seen—your work as well?”
“Smart woman.”
“Why?”
“I like living?”
“Do you?” I frowned. “Far as I can tell you’re no Sin Eater.” And I’d know. “Making gearwork minus Ciris’s stamp is a good way to find yourself minus your head.”
“We Normain never got into bed with the New Goddess the way the Empire has.” He chuckled and shrugged. “I like to create things and Sicarii has a far sharper mind than most of my former employers. It kept things interesting at first, when I realized she wasn’t going to kill me right away.”
“And now?” I used the urn to stand up and discovered I wasn’t quite as recovered as I hoped as my stomach did somersaults. “You drugged me so she could catch me?”
“No!” He stood up from his crouch and reached for me, pausing a span before his spidery thin fingers touched me. Which was good; even wobbly, I would have tried to kill him if he’d touched me. “No, I would never. Not after what I know now and so forth.” He frowned. “You don’t realize the extent of matters, do you?”
“Elucidate me.”
“Sicarii knows who you are, Sambuciña ‘Buc’ Alhurra. She wants power, as far as I’ve been able to tell, but early on when it was just her and me, she spoke with me, out of boredom more than anything else, I suspect.” A shadow passed his face. “She wanted you to suffer, to long for release. She intended you to secretly thirst for her blade. Then, and only then, would she see you dead.… But now, she wants something more.”
“She’s not the first to want that,” I said, hiding my unease behind a
smirk. “What’s worse than death?”
“I thought,” he said slowly, “that it would be mutually beneficial for us to meet. I arranged this thinking your friend would be joining us, but he took the long way around. As for your other friend, I chose a substance that would keep them sleeping a little longer beneath your subconscious than you.”
“My other friend?” My breath left me when I realized what he meant. What I’d been missing and unable to call to mind. Mind. Now I knew why my head felt so empty. “Sin,” I hissed.
“Aye, precisely.”
“If you know about it, then Sicarii—”
“Was the one who told me,” he said. “She’s been following you more closely than you’ve realized, Buc. She saw you elude death more than once, saw your powers revealed. That’s what changed her from wanting to kill you to wanting to … ‘harvest’ is the wrong word, but my Imperial isn’t great enough to be more specific.”
“She wants Sin?”
“Or you without Sin, yes.”
Hmm. I had forgotten what it was like not to have that tiny ball of thought and emotion and being nested in my mind. Now it felt empty, hollow, an echo missing its source. Sin.
“She wants you flayed to the bone, Buc,” he said, his eyes large as they stared into mine. “I knew, shortly after she kidnapped me, what Sicarii was. At least, I thought I did. I underestimated her.”
He pushed his spectacles back up the bridge of his nose. “I’m not a brave man. It’s one of the reasons I followed my cousin to the capital instead of seeking out one of the universities to ply my trade. I’m no fool either. I know what my weapons are capable of.”
He sighed. “There are always those who will use knowledge to hurt others, use those like me, cogs in the gearwork and so forth. Sicarii is a terror beyond what you know, but I think perhaps you can stop her. Maybe the only one who can. I observed your earlier altercation with that rabble and thought a conversation might be in order.”
“You knocked me out. Brought me here without my Sin.” I was surprised by the ownership in my voice, but I’d earned him, damn it, paid in blood and death and lost Eld’s friendship because of him—he was mine. “You’ve been helping my enemies. Why shouldn’t I kill you here and now? What do you want?”
“Want?” He frowned. “I thought that was obvious? No?”
“No.”
“I want us to be allies, partners. I want to, what’s the euphemism?” He touched his purple sleeve. “Turn my coat?”
I laughed. “You’re off to a fine start, if that’s what you wanted.”
“I needed to get you alone. Explain things. Feel you out.” He sighed. “I miss my cousin at times like this. Fredfer could both make things clear and make friends in a few sentences. My talents”—he reached into his jacket and pulled out a roll of papers, which he offered to me—“have ever lain elsewhere. Alas and so forth.” He handed them over. “Here.”
I unrolled them and swore. “A complete map of Servenza’s underground?”
“I gather the Doga gave you something to get you started and to find this place. You’ve clearly made progress on your own, but that should help speed things up. There are a few passages I think even Her Grace is ignorant of,” he said with a smile.
“Sicarii has these, too?” I asked, annoyed at the extra breath it took me to locate my palazzo. I’d grown too used to Sin’s abilities. I frowned. “If she wants me so desperately, why hasn’t she flooded one of these tunnels beneath my bed with two dozen Krakens or Poisoned Eels? I’d be hard-pressed to fend them off in a tight corner like that, magic or no.”
“She’s been plotting revolution,” the Artificer said. “Why draw that much attention to herself?”
“Because she’s batshit crazy?” I suggested. “’Sides, you told me how desperately she wants me murdered. Tortured and murdered.”
“You’re not wrong,” the Artificer said after a moment. “There’s a time or two she would have done as you say, save I took measures and so forth.”
He took off his multilens spectacles and wiped them on the edge of his jacket. “Sicarii has what she believes are the only complete set in Servenza, including those few passages Her Grace forgot.” He looked at me. “She does not. I carefully doctored the Blossoms Quarto so that the few passages there seem ancient and disconnected and none run through your palazzo. I could hardly do more without exposing myself.
“There’s also a few designs in there you may find useful. On the map I’ve marked locations and times I’ll be over the next couple of days.” Putting his glasses back on, he added, “Buc, you won’t have more time than that. Not before Sicarii comes for you, one way or the other.”
I felt a chill race down my spine as I glanced at schematics for flying machines and gearwork-driven apparatuses. “She wants me that badly, eh?” I laughed. “Eld always said my mouth would get me in trouble one day, but I can’t think who I’ve pissed off that badly and let live.”
“Everything about her before Normain is cloaked in shadow,” he said, answering my unspoken question. “She seems familiar with Servenza, but it’s a small isle as countries go. Discovering your magic and how far you’ve come in uncovering her in your report to the Doga has her unsettled. After your exploits here…”
I shrugged. “People have been trying to kill me since my mum abandoned me to the streets. Tell Sicarii to get in line.”
“I disapprove of boasting, but from what I’ve seen, you may be one of the few who can back it up.” A smile creased his features, deepening a few of the wrinkles there. “I chose well,” he murmured, as if to himself.
“Aye, but why?” I moved a pace closer and noticed my hand was steadier than it’d been when I woke up. Drugs are wearing off. I could take him now, if I needed to. Do I need to? That was the question. “Why’d you choose me? Why oppose Sicarii? Why not simply run?”
“You’ve more courage than I do,” he whispered. “I’d never be able to live, looking over my shoulder, waiting for her burning eye to appear, and with it, the painful death she promises to any who turn against her.”
He shuddered. “I chose you, Buc, because while you and Sicarii are not all that dissimilar in some respects, whereas she wants to see the world consumed by mindless wildfire, you want to use a controlled burn to allow new life to bloom.”
“How do you know my plans?” I whispered.
“I told you, you’ve been followed far more closely than you calculated. If you succeed, a world could actually exist where learning guides right and tempers might. Even a coward like me would fight for that.”
He cleared his throat. “Now, Eld will be coming past the door behind you in the next minute or so, depending on if he’s been running the whole time or slowed to walk.”
“Slowed, judging by how hard he was blowing before,” I said.
“Well, he did take the long way,” the Artificer said. He clicked his tongue. “Meet him and take the same way out you came in; it’s clear. Sin should be coming around by then. I need to return to my laboratory before Sicarii hears of your raid and comes running.” He shuddered. “She’s enough Serpent’s Flame to do what she wants, I think, but she won’t be happy about this. You’ve fucked with her plans, Buc, and she’ll fuck back.”
“She isn’t the only swinging dick in this brothel we call Servenza,” I growled.
“I—I beg pardon? No, never mind, no time. Must be off and so forth.” He turned to go, and paused. “Buc? Sin won’t realize they were out. You can tell them of course, but you don’t have to.” He flashed a half smile. “I’ll leave that up to you.”
“My thanks,” I said slowly, stuffing the papers into my jacket. I crossed the room to him. “I’ve never been one for allies, but—friends?”
He studied my hand and laughed. “Friends, yes,” he said, pumping my hand. He ran toward the door. “Eld!” he called as he disappeared into the passage, leaving me alone.
“Eld,” I said, stowing my blades before moving toward the opposite door.
It felt weird to be alone, without Eld or Sin, and I wasn’t sure if it was a good feeling or bad. Different, for sure. Between that and the substance the Artificer had drugged me with, I felt half out of my own body. No time for that.
* * *
“There you are!” I shouted, and Eld nearly went over his boots trying to stop when he heard my voice. “Getting a bit fat, aren’t you? If you’re already this out of breath.”
“I’ve. Been. Running for ages,” he gasped, his cheeks flushed. Sweat stained his jacket in several places. “Looking for you,” he huffed, bending over and leaning on his knees. “Running from those m-maniacs behind—Where the Gods did you go?”
“You ran straight, I ran right.” I shrugged. “Right was a shorter cut, I guess. Did have to go back through that shit room, though.”
“Sh-shit room?” he gasped, rising.
“Guano. Bat shit.”
“Nasty,” Eld said.
“That’s the one. C’mon.” I put my arm around the small of his back. “I made a friend along the way, but we can discuss that later. I don’t want your old bones seizing up on me now that you’ve stopped running.”
“Aye, that’s a risk,” he panted, “considering I’ve been running for an hour or more!”
An hour? How? In the end, it didn’t matter how long I’d been unconscious. I had to get Eld out of here, find Sin in my mind again, and get home. Home. I reached for the scrap of parchment in my pocket before I could stop myself. Unlocked. As you thought. I wasn’t quite sure I was up to that now. But first … escape.
“I know you’re blowed through, Eld, but we’ve got to get the fuck out of here.”
“M-more running?” he wheezed.
“Just a little farther,” I promised.
“I hate running,” he growled, lurching into an awkward jog. I kept pace with him, my mind racing ahead. “It’s the worst.”
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