Sages of the Underpass

by Aaron Michael Ritchey

“Evelyn Beast wins!” Danette shouted. “Artists to their corners.”

  There weren’t any corners to retreat to, but she was just following the ritual. Niko wondered at her name. Evelyn Beast? That didn’t quite work with how elegant and small she was. Maybe that was the point.

  Evelyn patted his chest. “Nice work, Niko.”

  He wasn’t so sure. He hadn’t made it to the playground. And all of what he thought he knew about the Arts was now in question.

  Niko squinted against the pain in his face. “How is what you guys do even possible?”

  Evelyn answered him with The Pranad. “Even the impossible becomes possible when dealing with the world of the spirit.”

  Paxton exploded with laughter. “We have got to take the new guy to the trains. It’ll either cure him or kill him.”

  Evelyn touched his face, healing his burns.

  Evelyn went next. She reached the playground in a series of moves that left Niko baffled. Pax also reached the playground. His combination of Masonry and speed was so unexpected, and he was good at playing on Niko’s expectations.

  On the drive back to the house on North Ciudad Road, Niko asked about sparring.

  “We spar,” Danette said from the passenger seat. “You’ll see. So, Niko, are you going to come back Tuesday night?”

  “I so am,” he said. The Sages of the Underpass were doing things he couldn’t believe, and he didn’t want to miss out on anything.

  He was glad the Sages weren’t meeting that Friday night. Bonnie called him.

  Bonnie, the Mohawk girl with the brilliant green eyes. “Pete can’t do on-call,” she said.

  Niko wanted to snarl. He stood in his room, his phone to his ear as he stared out his tiny window at the alley down below. “That’s not surprising. But why are you calling?”

  “He’d like to see you.” Bonnie paused. “Only, it’s complicated. Can you meet me at my show tonight?”

  “Your show?”

  “I have a band. We’re playing. You get to hear some of my sweet tunes, and then we’ll go see your brother.” Another pause. “He might be in trouble. He didn’t tell me much, only he needed to see you.”

  Niko went from angry to afraid. What was going on with Pete?

  Bonnie gave him the address of her show.

  Niko prayed Teddy would be able to help that night. For one, he wanted to make sure his brother was okay. For another, he wanted to see Bonnie again, to find out if her eyes were as green as he remembered.

  The Fort

  MONIQUE PULLED THE Kowalczyk guy back behind an abandoned 7-Eleven. The sun was low in the sky, and she would’ve thought the daemon would’ve waited until it was fully dark before it came out of hiding. There it was, however, across the weeds, lurking in pine trees that had grown tall among the dark, dilapidated houses outside of Fort Tahoe.

  While there was a definite wall around the fort, about a mile in the distance, people had built new homes and started new businesses around it. It wasn’t so different from the Devil’s Edge back in Bay City. The walls were concrete, about ten feet tall, but then a high chain-link fence with more razor wire topped them. The hotels and buildings in the fort itself were tall, and yet the bare rock of the mountain peaks dwarfed them. The crystal-clear lake mirrored the alpine landscape.

  The mountain air, perfumed by the pines, was cool after the hot day. At one point, the houses around Fort Tahoe would’ve cost a mint. But then, real estate prices had plummeted. People didn’t want to live where they had to worry about daemons waking you up at midnight. Sure, there were hunters, daemon scrappers, but hunting daemons was like panning for gold. You might get lucky, or you might not. Even if you did stumble onto something powerful, you might end up being ripped apart, especially with more powerful cambions appearing in greater numbers.

  Aleksy was with her in the abandoned suburb. He had custom built a new Whitney, which should be powerful enough to capture the shadow man and his tentacled friend. Monique had laughed. “I love the ever-present and rather suspect word ‘should’ when talking to engineers.”

  Now, they were in the thick of it.

  Aleksy was pale and silent, dressed in L.L. Bean outdoorsman clothes. Lots of denim and flannel and thick boots that were probably a little surprised they’d gotten mud on them. Poor boots. Poor guy. He was scared.

  “You know, you don’t have to be here,” Monique whispered to him.

  “Uh, I know, but it’s my design. I wanted to be the one to field-test it.” He gulped.

  “You’ve fought before, right? In high school?” she asked.

  He gulped again. “And recently, my brother, we sparred. I’m okay. I’m a Mars Belt, First and Fourth Studies, Construct.”

  “Makes sense,” Monique said quietly. “The Construct part. Well, stay back. And if your Whitney explodes, well, I’m assuming you signed the waiver?”

  “What waiver?” Aleksy asked uneasily.

  “The insurance waiver. So you can’t sue me, SoulFire, or any of our subsidiaries. You did get the Accidental Death and Dismemberment insurance, right?” Monique let him see her smile.

  He wasn’t getting it. “I did get the insurance. I didn’t sign a waiver I don’t think.”

  “Well, then, don’t die. I can’t afford it.” Monique reached out with her Awareness Study, and yes, there was prana, a big daemon, in the orchards, waiting there. It felt like Winnemucca all over again. “Stay here. I’ll try and lure it over. If not, I’ll see you in hell.” She cocked her head. “I have always wanted to say that.”

  She crept out onto the street, going low, in her Artist robes, barefoot. She liked the feel of the street under her, the asphalt still hot from the mountain sunshine.

  She reached the edge of a pine grove, the boughs suffocating the houses in green needles. Limbs had shattered windows. Saplings grew out of the dirt that had collected in gutters. It was a strange, eerie kind of sight, beautiful, and very post-apocalyptic.

  She needed to get the daemon’s attention. While her Luna Studies weren’t exactly her best skill, she did have access to them. She raised her hands and initiated Moon Blind. All the light in the dusky ruins first coalesced around her hands and then ran down her body until she was a glowing silver beacon.

  The daemon broke from the trees, coming at her. It wasn’t her daemon. This one was long, snaky, the size of an anaconda on steroids. It slithered through the air, coming at her.

  She let go of Moon Blind. The voice of her implant purred in her ears, “Prana down to ninety percent.” Not bad. Not great. Her spiritual practice had taken a hit lately.

  She whirled, swept her Quintessence Second Study into her legs, and sprinted across the street, to the 7-Eleven. “Aleksy, got a bogie on my tail.”

  “What’s a bogie?” Aleksy wailed.

  No military experience. And he probably hadn’t seen too many war movies. Monique had very little experience with the former, a great deal with the latter.

  She spun just as the snake daemon opened ghostly jaws. She hammered home Twin Damage, first one fist, then another, then another.

  The head was stunned. The tail tried to throw coils around her. She was too fast. Her prana was down to eighty-five percent.

  By that time, Aleksy had his Whitney on the ground, whining, blue lights flashing. The head went into the machine first, the motor whining, until the last of the tail vanished inside the metal container. The lights turned red.

  “Did we get it?” Aleksy frowned. “No, wait.” He bent, going through menu screens on the Whitney’s display. “It’s just a cambion. It’s not our guy, is it?”

  “No, I’m afraid not.” She let go of her angst to laugh. “But look on the bright side, we did a little test run on your Whitney. Worked like a charm.”

  Aleksy stood. The machine hung off his shoulder by a strap along with a fully packed backpack, army green. “You know, Ms. Lamb, I went through the circuitry on your containment system from Winnemucca. There’s a Luna in our division, you know her, Aud
ra Horn, and she said the prana remnants were off the charts. We all believe you, you know, about the new kind of daemon.”

  “Ms. Lamb. Ugh.” She moaned. “We went over this. It’s Monique. Always, just Monique. You, Tarzan. Me, Monique. Yeah?”

  “Sorry. It’s just, you know, you’re SoulFire’s CBA. I thought I should show you respect.” He stood there awkwardly.

  Monique got out her phone to call in a SoulFire Humvee to their location. “We’re comrades-in-arms, now, Aleksy. See. I call you Aleksy. You can call me Monique. We’re buddies.”

  That didn’t sit right with the guy. “We’re not buddies. I don’t think we can be. If I were a senior VP, maybe, or at least a director, maybe. As it is? I’m your underling.”

  “Don’t use the word ‘underling.’ It makes me sound like an overlord. I’m telling you, we’re buddies. I’ll prove it. Let me buy you a drink.” She glanced into the 7-Eleven. The shelves were empty, the floor dusty, and cobwebs swung from the corners. “Yeah, that’s not going to work. I can offer you water?” She laughed. “Oh, yeah, you were carrying the water. Hey, sailor, can you help a thirsty girl down on her luck?”

  He swung off his backpack. He grabbed a metal water bottle and tossed it to her. “I know you’re getting pressure from the other executives. I know it can’t be easy on you. However, just know that your team is behind you. We’ll get the daemon.”

  It was only mid-July, so she still had most of the year before Fujimori sent her packing. Was January a good time to look for a new job? She hadn’t been on the market for a while now. She could always get a job at an Apollo’s coffee shop. At least she’d have insurance.

  “If it is even a daemon.” Monique cracked open his bottle. “We should call it something else. What’s daemon in Polish? You’re Polish, aren’t you?”

  Aleksy sipped his water. “I’m basically American, but my parents couldn’t be more Polish. I think the word is just demon.”

  “That doesn’t help us.” Monique sighed. “Drodes and cambions are German words. I could do ‘teufel’ for the new kind, but that doesn’t seem fair. Poland was off the map twice in modern history. We should throw the Poles a word.”

  “What about chochlik? I think it’s a kind of imp, or something.

  “I like it. It’s odd, and somewhat unsettling. Chochlik. There’s a whole lot going on in the mouth trying to get that word out. And we all know, words that end in a hard K sound are so much fun to say.” Monique raised her canteen. “Here’s to the chochlik.”

  Aleksy went to say something. He couldn’t. A ghostly, glowing tentacle was wrapped around his throat. It had come out of the store, but that couldn’t be. Monique had looked inside. More than that, she’d not felt anything in there. Yet that shadowy thing had been lurking somewhere inside. Hiding. Again, this just didn’t happen. Daemons were simple things, floating bits of energy, that yes, at times attacked, but they didn’t employ any kind of strategy.

  The smell of the shadow man caught her nose. Rot and something pungent, that spice she couldn’t quite put her finger on. That was another thing. Daemons only stank when they were trapped in circuitry.

  She manifested a Shadow Spear, from her Radiance Third Study. She rolled forward as dark claws swished over the head above her. She channeled prana into her speed, stabbed the spear through the tentacle, swung it around, and pierced the shadow man’s side, or at least she tried. It swayed to avoid the attack. Its hands were claws, but it had feet, definite feet, in sandals. She could see the dim outline of the straps. White dots, like unnerving eyes, shined in its dark face. Could this thing see? It certainly could think.

  “Prana to eighty percent,” the soft voice soothed.

  This thing had waited until their guard was down before striking. And the ball of tentacle fun had struck to distract her while the shadow man ambushed her. She’d only been saved by her nose and her speed.

  Aleksy dropped to the ground, clutching at his throat.

  Monique spun the spear, altering the weapon, giving it a blade on either side. She slashed more tentacles that reached out of the 7-Eleven. At the same time, she kept the shadow man back, trying to remember if the chochlik had claws and sandals in Winnemucca.

  “Aleksy, might I suggest we let out the little cambion we captured,” Monique said. “I’d like to give our new friend, the chochlik, a private tour of your Whitney’s circuit board.”

  She reached and drew the asphalt up and slammed it into the creature in the convenience store. The windows shattered forward.

  She saved some of that pavement for armor, which covered her in seconds—her Masonry Fourth Study, keeping her safe. The shadow man’s claws hit her pavement armor and slid off in blue sparks. That was interesting. And kind of pretty.

  The tentacle beast was stopped for the moment, trying to slither through the road she’d thrown at it. As for the shadow man, he slashed at her face. She let the spear vanish, then reached out to grab the very prana of the chochlik. She used a derivation of Inversion, a Radiance Fourth Study—it was powerful, difficult, but effective. The shadow man tried to retreat. She grasped it, grimacing. She didn’t need her armor. The asphalt dripped down her robes until she stood there, fists clenched and glowing with a bright platinum light. She made a pulling motion. Fist-sized platinum light appeared in the chest of the chochlik. That was her power, working.

  Her implants let her know she was down to seventy-five percent prana.

  Aleksy scrambled and reached the Whitney. He was going through settings, finding the release so they could empty the unit and use it on the shadow man.

  The snake-shaped cambion slithered out. It didn’t flee. Instead, it streaked toward Monique. The fight had grown very interesting. The containment unit’s lights turned blue and it started up its whine.

  Monique thought of grabbing the cambion, to try and hold it in her core. She wouldn’t cycle, just keep it out of the fight. It would be like trying to hold an ice cube in the middle of her throat. She wasn’t that desperate. And she still had plenty of prana and all her sharira.

  The tentacle monster broke out of the 7-Eleven. It was caught in the Whitney, pulled down, slashing and lashing out with its coils.

  Aleksy scrambled back on his hands and feet, scuttling like a crab.

  Monique had no choice. She had to let go of the shadow man. Her Inversion Study snapped off. Just in time, she kicked the anaconda cambion away with a sweep of her foot. Both the snake and the man flew from them, back into the pine trees across the street.

  Monique wasn’t about to let her prey escape. She sprinted into the trees and found herself in darkness. She manifested a Scale Sword, slashed away the undergrowth, the twisting limbs and leaves, then she stopped. Reaching out with her mind, she searched for the chochlik, the shadow man, and its new companion.

  Nothing. It was gone, out of her range. She felt the life around her, and she inhaled. The sap, the damaged trees, the grass, the brush, it all smelled good. She smiled, letting go of her disappointment in seconds.

  She padded back to Aleksy, who was back at the Whitney, going through menus. “It’s a level-five cambion, tough, the toughest I’ve ever seen. It’s using ninety-eight percent of the unit’s storage.”

  “Damn, we had two percent to play with.” She lifted her voice. “Come back, little chochlik. We have a nice home for you.”

  “Uh, that’s probably not going to work.” Aleksy was frowning.

  “Buck up, Kowalczyk.” Why was that name familiar? “At least you’ve seen it too. I have a witness. The bad news? You’ll have to write up a full report. But, please, downplay my abilities.”

  Aleksy wiped the sweat out of his eyes. “You’re a cusp, Masonry into Quintessence. My brother is also a cusp, Quintessence into Luna, so I know a little bit about this. He chose to focus on Quintessence. But you, you were using a bunch of other signs. How is what you did even possible?”

  Monique snapped her fingers. “Yes, your brother is Nikodemus Kowalczyk. Niko Black.�
�

  She’d had a brief discussion with Barton Hennessey on the phone about what he was doing with the BCBA, and yes, while SoulFire wasn’t directly involved, she wanted the agent to know they were watching. And interested.

  Barton had been characteristically both charming and cagey. Everything he said sounded like the truth, or at least the truth was in the neighborhood, about three doors down from the happy crap that sputtered out of him. The whole conversation made Monique wonder about the agent. What kind of shenanigans was he up to? And could it come back to bite her and SoulFire? Time would tell.

  The agent suggested lunch. Monique put him off. She thought the more time she spent with him, the more the truth might just be pushed out of the neighborhood entirely.

  Her call was to remind him that his actions had consequences. She wouldn’t be listening to his words, but watching his feet and where they led him.

  Would they lead to Niko Black?

  “We have a lot to talk about, dude,” Monique said.

  “Did you just call me dude?” Aleksy asked.

  That was the least of her problems. Now, she had to convince Aleksy to keep his mouth shut about what she could do. Otherwise, the consequences would further complicate her already complicated life.

  She sighed, but it was a happy sound. Life had a way of getting oh so interesting right when you thought you had a handle on it. She was going to have to see Cheryl. She needed a bit of help and wisdom, and no one was better at both than Cheryl.

  The Devil’s Edge

  NIKO PLUCKED HIS BIKE off the front of the bus. Teddy might need the Pig for calls that Friday night, so Niko was forced to take mass transit. His parents were between cars, for the moment, and they were reticent about buying another one. As for Niko, his finances were tied into the family business, which made everything complicated and heartrending.

  Niko biked through the Devil’s Edge toward the address that Bonnie had given him.

  The Devil’s Edge was a neighborhood of small houses, some fenced, some abandoned, very few occupied. The neighborhood followed Highway 680, which hugged the Diablo Mountains and ran north–south through Bay City’s eastern boundary. He was a bit anxious. Someone could jump him, though he didn’t think the Devil’s Edge gangs were as bad as the ones in East Oak. There were daemons to consider, too. Scrappers out here kept the cambions under control, mostly, but not well enough for people to come back.