Between Cases (The City Between Book 7)

by W. R. Gingell

  Eventually, he startled me by agreeing. “If you’re correct about the murders, and if the cycle wasn’t completed satisfactorily, a new cycle could begin sooner than the accepted norm.”

  “Behind itself trying to slough off the old skin that was kept?” mused Athelas. There was a malicious kind of amusement in his eyes. “What a shame, if the King Behind has been expending so much effort to maintain his throne and prevent the cycle, only to have them recurring every thirty to sixty years instead of once every few centuries!”

  “You talk about Behind as if it’s a person,” I said. I plopped down next to JinYeong with my own double stack of corned beef sandwich, narrowly avoiding dripping seeded mustard on his trousers. He glared at me but was mollified by the coffee I passed him as soon as he got a good whiff at what was in there. A bit of cinnamon, a bit of clove—a hecka lotta blood. Vampire spice, I call it.

  I took a bite of my sandwich and said through the mouthful, “You know: alive with a mind and a will, picking a king and kicking him out when he’s done. Do you mean there’s an actual person, or group of people that decide this sort of thing? Like little gods or something?”

  I’d never fully understood what the whole thing was, but then, no one had ever really explained it to me properly. I’d learned in dribs and drabs that I picked up from Athelas and Zero—and sometimes from other Behindkind I met along the way.

  “There is no such organisation, little gods or otherwise,” said Athelas. “The land itself precipitates the change—think of a human equivalent such as an earthquake or a volcano eruption. Perhaps a tsunami. Through a series of seemingly unrelated and vastly separated happenings, the entire earth contracts itself and throws up a wave, or lava.”

  “Yeah, but natural phenomena don’t prompt people to spontaneously give birth to kids who might one day take over the worldwide throne,” I told him. “And they don’t give the old king the boot, either.”

  “The natural processes of Behind are different from those in the human world,” said Zero. “Behind, the changing of the Kingship is a process as natural as the tides following the moon.”

  “Unless one decides he wants to stay on the throne.”

  “Maja,” said JinYeong. “I also don’t understand that.”

  “Nor does anyone else,” Zero said. “That’s probably how he got away with it. No one expected it because no one knew it was possible.”

  “Dunno why you lot didn’t just band together and overthrow him,” I said into my sandwich. “If he was doing stuff he shouldn’t do.”

  Zero said evenly, “No one can defeat a king but an heirling, and they were all slaughtered. By the time it was safe for me to be born, and I was allowed to do so, even I could not officially challenge him.”

  “Bet that’s what everyone said before this bloke killed all the heirlings and did another term. No one can serve more than one term as King Behind. No one can defeat a king but an heirling.”

  “If one was inclined to wonder why a King Behind must have at least a drop of human blood, perhaps this exchange might clear that up,” murmured Athelas. “This charming way of thinking is no doubt common to humans.”

  “Rude!” I said. “You fae are the ones with the rep for being tricky and making the best of your bargains! I’m just saying that Behindkind spend a lot of time saying Nah, can’t be done; isn’t possible to stuff that’s actually happening, and—”

  “Calm yourself, Pet,” said Athelas, laughing softly. “I do beg your pardon! I had no intention of insulting your race, believe me!”

  “Heck,” I said, staring at him. “It was a compliment, wasn’t it?”

  “I hesitate to claim it as such, given your reaction,” he said. “But yes, it was. I’m really very much in awe of the King’s coup, and I am likewise constantly in awe of your thought processes.”

  “Yeah? ’Cos that definitely sounds like an insult.”

  “That is because you are a suspicious person,” JinYeong said.

  “If I may continue,” Zero said suggestively.

  “Oh yeah. Sorry. Go ahead. The changing of the kingship is a natural process like a volcanic eruption.”

  “Exactly,” said Zero. I was pretty sure he was fighting a smile, because his eyes were very blue. “So it’s not surprising that my father is looking for allies. As soon as it occurs to the King Behind that the cycle is trying to begin again in earnest, I’ve no doubt he’ll look for the heirlings to slaughter them again quietly before they can come out in sufficient numbers to be obvious to Behind at large.”

  “I should imagine that he’ll have a rather hard time of it,” Athelas said. He seemed amused. “It will be hard to find heirlings when no one has seen hide nor hair of them since the last official cycle, even if two of them are sharing a roof here. The distinct lack of swarming heirlings seems to suggest that it will be difficult for the king to do what he did last time.”

  “Which means he’ll probably just come after the obvious ones to make sure it’s not gunna happen,” I said gloomily. “Heck. Doesn’t look like being too healthy to be you right now, boss.”

  “Thank you for your concern, Pet,” Zero said, in mild exasperation. “As I mentioned before, that is no doubt why my father is trying to drum up support for me wherever he can.”

  “Perhaps it really is time for us to seek support where we can get it,” suggested Athelas. “And the more unexpected, the better.”

  JinYeong nodded decidedly. “The humans. I agree.”

  “It’s one thing to share information with them and receive information in return,” Zero said. “Involving them in the problems of succession will likely lead to their deaths.”

  “They know the risks,” I said. I knew I’d want to have a say in it if I was Abigail, especially when it came to something this big. “But if you’re going to bring them in, you’ll need to tell them a bit more than they currently know about Behindkind and the rule of the land.”

  “We’ll see,” said Zero, and that was a surprise in and of itself. I’d expected a very quick no.

  Things really were changing, these days. Maybe I’d even be able to talk them into taking a look at Morgana’s case as well—it wasn’t like she was eager to accept any help, but it wouldn’t hurt to dig into her parents a bit, too.

  It’s a pretty big life change when someone tells you you’re a zombie, and that’s exactly what had happened to my former friend Morgana—hence the former. Brains, for instance: apparently that’s true. Morgana had spent decades living in her room with only ghosts and her barely-there parents to keep her company, and while the person who had almost-killed her parents had arranged for her to feed off their remaining essence, she would need to eat brains if she was ever to leave the house.

  She wasn’t willing to do that—but then, she didn’t know that she was essentially feeding off what was left of her parents, either. She didn’t know a lot of things about her new life, and she’d thrown me out before I could tell her very much. Morgana hadn’t exactly taken the news that she was a zombie very well. Until then, she’d been the closest thing to a real female friend that I’d had.

  At least she still had Daniel: turns out that werewolves who let you boss them around and don’t tell you you’re a zombie are more welcome to stay around than humans who tell you you’re a zombie.

  That sounds like I was angry. I wasn’t: not really. I was just sad, and horrified, and aware that I couldn’t do anything to help other than find a good morgue for brain supplies. Until then, I just messaged Daniel every couple of days to see how Morgana was going, and vainly checked to see if she had answered any of my previous texts sent straight to her. Today was my day for messaging Daniel.

  My earlier text of How’s she going today? had been answered by a pretty pointed, I’m fine, Pet; thanks for asking.

  Sorry, I replied. How’s the boys and everyone? Morgana kicked them out yet?

  The boys are fine. I sent them to the morgue for supplies, so you don’t need to worry about that. W
e’ve got what they could find in the freezer and we’ll be ready for when she comes around.

  OK. Reckon you know how soon that’ll be?

  Pet.

  All right, but you lot better be looking after her. She might be someone.

  What does that mean, Pet?

  I nearly didn’t answer that, because I’d already said too much.

  Two minutes later, another text buzzed. Pet! You better answer me or I’m coming to see you.

  Just be careful, I had texted back. I don’t know anything for sure, but there could be some people after her. Just look out, ok?

  I had no proof, but I had been certain for a few weeks now that Morgana’s parents had been killed by the same murderer who had killed mine. Now that we were convinced I was an heirling, that left too many connections between heirlings and the murders, and me and Morgana. If Morgana was an heirling too, having to eat brains would be the least of her problems: she’d have to either avoid the succession fights or learn to fight. Judging from how she’d handled the news of being a zombie, I was willing to bet that she wouldn’t want to fight. Maybe it was safer if she stayed in her house for now.

  That was a chilling redux of my own thoughts earlier, and I hunched my shoulders a bit. It would be safer for her, maybe, but not necessarily as good for her as facing the reality of her new life. And it wasn’t up to me to keep her safe, either. She was in the world Behind, whether or not she wanted to be; what she made of that and how she dealt with it was up to her. If and when she wanted my help, I’d be there. For now, at least she had Daniel.

  My thoughts went back to the file Athelas had been looking at for the last couple of weeks: another boy he said was one of the murderer’s peripheral victims. That boy and Morgana had a lot in common, and it would be helpful to the investigation if my psychos decided to have a poke around her parents and her past, too, right? Anything to either qualify or disqualify her from being an heirling. She shouldn’t have to deal with being a zombie and an heirling if it could be avoided.

  I took another few mouthfuls of my sandwich, and maybe they were all waiting for permission to eat without being bothered, because there was a silence until I got to the last bite of my sandwich.

  I didn’t notice that until I was brushing the crumbs off my fingers and it became obvious that Zero was watching me quizzically, his huge arms folded across his chest.

  “What?” I demanded defensively. “You need more corned beef?”

  Athelas laughed softly as Zero said, “Ask.”

  “Ask what?” I said guiltily. For a bloke who didn’t say too much, he certainly made sure that what he did say counted. He could leave a pet wondering if he knew what she was up to with a certain USB and was encouraging her to open up about it, or whether he actually did just know she wanted to ask something and was letting her know she could do that.

  “You’ve been sulking—”

  “I haven’t been sulking!”

  “Skulking, then,” he amended. “You’ve been skulking around the house for a couple of weeks now, and you’re obviously trying to figure out how to ask something, so you might as well come right out with it.”

  “Why?” I countered. “Are you gunna help me with it if I ask?”

  To my utter astonishment, he said coolly, “I don’t see why not. We haven’t been given work by the Enforcers recently, and we’re between cases as regards humans. Ask; we’ll help.”

  “Okay, but you better not take it back when you know what it is,” I warned him. If I’d had another sandwich, I could have thought about how I was going to present the idea while I ate, but I didn’t have another. Finally, I just said, “Reckon we need to talk to Morgana, too.”

  “You said we weren’t to disturb her.”

  I couldn’t figure out if he was being sarcastic or not, so I just stared at him. “Heck. Look at you blokes lately, listening to me when I ask you to do something!”

  “The human girl will not talk,” said JinYeong. “Not now. Not yet. She is angry.”

  Athelas lifted a brow. “I fail to see why she should need to talk.”

  “It’s not that she needs to talk, it’s that you lot need to listen,” I told him. “If I’m an heirling, I reckon Morgana is, too—I think she’s another one of your peripheral cases from the twenties, like the file Athelas has been looking at. Zero, you said the peripheral cases might be more useful at the moment than the main cases, so we might as well consider them all. Helps you, helps me.”

  He actually took it seriously. “Will the girl really speak to us?”

  “Reckon she’ll speak to you,” I said, a bit gloomily. Morgana might have kicked me out because she didn’t want to be reminded of the world she was so newly aware that she was a part of, but I was pretty sure she’d still speak with Zero or JinYeong. The psychos weren’t human—didn’t really seem human. I did. And I reminded her that she wasn’t human.

  Zero nodded; Athelas, now more thoughtful, gave an answering nod. So they agreed. That was nice. I was still getting used to them agreeing with me on things. Really listening.

  “I don’t see why we shouldn’t do some digging,” Zero said, wiping his mouth and going for the second sandwich. “Since we’re working on peripheral cases due to their similarity, we’ll do everything for her that we would do in investigating the others.”

  “We have more resources, these days,” added JinYeong. “That leprechaun.”

  “And ’Zul,” I added.

  JinYeong sniffed into his coffee, but said, “I agree. We should look at this one too.”

  Athelas sighed faintly. “Must we, my lord?”

  “What?” I said to him. “Don’t you approve?”

  I was conscious of a very faint disappointment. It wasn’t like Athelas was encouraging or fatherly or anything; in fact, he had always been downright direct in his warnings about getting attached to himself, Zero, and JinYeong. But somehow he had always been there to slip me information in the most sneaky way possible, or to push me in the right direction when it came to things I was trying to figure out.

  If anything, I think I’d expected him to be mildly cheering.

  “Disapprove?” he mused. “No. I think not. The timing seems particularly apt.”

  “Then how come you’re upset?”

  “I really advise you not to presume too much,” Athelas said, his voice sharp. “At this point, it is by no means settled that your friend is an heirling, and I am contemplating a more expedited culmination of events than any of us had anticipated if she really is one and it becomes known. I am quite certain that my lord shares the view that we expected a little more time in which to prepare for it.”

  “You lot have already had a long time,” I told him, and poured him another cup of tea despite his tone. “I’m the one who should be complaining about not enough time. Well, me and Morgana.”

  “We’ll investigate,” Zero said, and this time he was looking at Athelas: an even, steady look that said he had already made up his mind.

  I saw Athelas sigh faintly, but he said cheerfully enough, “As JinYeong says, we’ve got quite the support network these days. I would suggest seeing the merman about this particular case, however: the leprechaun makes a good money-finder, but the young zombie’s history is some hundred years ago, after all, and I’d guess the merman is more likely to find anything else that can be found on the human internet.”

  “And the Behindkind one, too,” I added. They all looked at me, and I said, “What? You blokes know there’s a Behindkind internet too, don’t you? It’s like the Dark Web; you can’t get in unless you know what you’re doing. ’Zul told me about it.”

  “When did he tell you that?” asked JinYeong suspiciously. “I did not hear him.”

  “You weren’t there. I met him at a café the other day when Zero wanted to find out about where to find that plant that burns people’s insides out.”

  “I must once again inform you, Pet,” said Athelas, “that the plant in question does not, in fact,
burn people’s insides out. It sets them on fire perpetually, neither burning nor consuming, and it has a health benefit wherein—”

  “I don’t care what it’s got,” I said. “I’m not gunna be eating something that’s gunna set my insides on fire. Who would eat that?”

  “Someone with a very bad case of internal rot,” Athelas told me, with an entirely simulated severity. He was trying not to laugh. “And let me tell you, Pet, that—”

  “I don’t think I’d bother,” said Zero, insultingly. “You know she won’t listen to you anyway. Bring in Marazul and the leprechaun if you wish, Pet: you can set them to work on the case Athelas mentioned earlier, too.”

  “I really wasn’t finished going over it,” murmured Athelas, but he leant back in his chair to stretch an arm to the small table. “Did you not mention that we’d received a couple of names from the humans, Pet?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Ralph Standforth and his mum Aileen. They were the only ones Abigail could remember off-hand: reckon it was a goodwill kinda thing that she told me that much, though. You reckon we’re gunna find more of them alive, like Morgana?”

  “Alive is a very strong word to use in connection with a zombie,” Athelas mentioned.

  “Yeah, maybe, but she’s not in the ground, and neither is JinYeong—and you could say that alive is a pretty strong word to use in connection with a vampire, too.”

  JinYeong sent me a rather narrow look, but didn’t protest.

  “I can talk to the merman about your Ralph Standforth as well,” Zero said. “Athelas, continue looking into your file and we’ll see if we can match up some information; JinYeong, get in contact with the detective and see if you can find any information that the police have—over the phone if you must, but not via text. Watch yourself if you go out.”

  Since it looked like they were ready to start as soon as we finished eating, I piled all the dishes back onto the tray and took them back into the kitchen, hoping to be quick enough to sneak out and go with someone—preferably Zero.