Construct

by Luke Matthews

  The slip was minor, and it didn’t appear Sorrell had noticed. Jacob covered well with more laughter, and Eriane buried herself in a huge gulp of her coffee. For Samuel, it illustrated how tenuous their situation here in Kelef still was, and brought into sharp relief his own need to travel under an alias. Remaining on guard was imperative, because none of them knew just how far knowledge of Samuel’s pursuit had traveled. After Atherton’s turn in Morrelton, how could they be sure anyone was trustworthy?

  As the laughter died down, Eriane finished her coffee and stood, exhaustion taking hold of her features. “I think it’s time for me to sleep.” She smiled at Sorrell. “In a warm bed, again.”

  “I agree,” Pare said, also standing. “I’m already nodding off in my chair.” His expression was a bit more serious than his words suggested, and it was clear he was looking for an excuse to get out of the room.

  Eriane covered her discomfort more eloquently. She crossed to Sorrell and kissed him on the cheek, which reddened at the gesture. “Thank you so much.”

  Samuel was impressed at the grace with which she moved through the situation. Her entire bearing had Sorrell believing she was just a grateful young girl, but Samuel knew better than to underestimate her. Even with her minor slip-up, it was little moments like that one which kept Sorrell off balance and reinforced their façade. As she left the room with Pare, he counted himself lucky the two of them were on his side. Jacob nodded to them as they left, then turned to Samuel.

  “Jeth, can you give us a moment, please,” Sorrell said.

  Samuel was caught off guard at being addressed by Sorrell, but couldn’t break character and so stood to leave the room. As he passed, Jacob’s eyes narrowed and he gave an almost imperceptible, but reassuring, nod. Eriane and Pare needed their sleep, so he headed toward the quarters he’d been shown earlier in the evening. Two other constructs, looking much like Taeman’s automatons, sat stone still at the back of the room and did not acknowledge his entrance.

  Samuel’s mood had unexpectedly soured. He wasn’t sure whether to trust his instincts, but something about Sorrell gnawed at him. Their acceptance into his household seemed too easy, too convenient. Jacob had made it clear he was not to be trusted, and the more Samuel mulled it over, the more unsettled he became.

  • • • • •

  “What is it, Sorrell?” Jacob asked. Sorrell sending away Samuel had his hackles up, but he lounged in his chair to avoid revealing his uneasiness.

  Sorrell took a draught of his wine, and set his glass down with practiced ease. “Why are you here?”

  Jacob smiled. “Because you invited me in,” he dodged.

  “You know what I mean, Kaleb.” Sorrell said, an edge to his voice. “Why are you really here?”

  Sorrell was drawing Jacob onto dangerous ground. He recalled an old axiom: Never ask a question you don’t already know the answer to. A cautious dance had just begun.

  “You’re not usually one to ask such direct questions, Sorrell.” Jacob said.

  “Different times, different circumstance.” Sorrell replied, falling back to an easy smile. He plucked at the front of his smock. “I’m a respectable businessman now.” He made a sweeping gesture. “I can’t risk all this.”

  Jacob took a slow drink. “You say that as though someone has asked you to.”

  Sorrell’s smile faded. “You’ve shown up in Kelef, looking ragged and beaten, at a time of year when most don’t journey here. The man whom I used to know traveled alone—always alone—and yet you appear in the company of a pair of children and an ancient construct. I need to ensure you’ve not brought chaos into my house.”

  Jacob let the implication hang, taking a drink of his wine and a long breath. “I met the kids in Cinth. They wanted to come to Kelef; something about the library. I might have dropped the hint I’d been here before.” Another drink of wine. “I let them hire me as a guide. Protection.”

  Sorrell raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever been here before?”

  “What do you think?” Jacob said with a disarming chuckle. “But you know me. Not much stands between me and a fool’s money.”

  “So they’re just clients?”

  Jacob didn’t like the question, but smiled just the same. He held out his wine glass, which Sorrell refilled from the decanter. “Just clients. They are to meet their aunt here in Kelef, who will pay me the remainder of my fee. We’d intended to stay at an inn tonight, but your hospitality helped us avoid it.”

  Sorrell nodded, topping off his own wine glass. “What about the construct?” Now he was fishing.

  Jacob offered a disarming chuckle “Just a canner heap I picked up along the way.”

  “How old is it?” Sorrell asked.

  “I don’t rightly know,” Jacob said. “I’ve only been in his company a few days.” This was Jacob’s opportunity to misdirect Sorrell’s interest. “But I figure a construct that age, fully intact, could be worth a tidy sum.”

  “To the right buyer.” Sorrell said, leaning back in his chair.

  “Are you saying you’re interested?”

  Sorrell smiled. “Not my type of business, I’m afraid. I could put you in contact with a few people, if you like.”

  Jacob shrugged. “Perhaps,” he said.

  “What are your plans, then?” Sorrell’s tone had lightened, which took a bit of the edge off for Jacob.

  “Not really sure,” Jacob said with a shrug. “I’ll make that decision once I’ve dropped the kids and turned a bit of profit on the canner. I will, after all, be in a brand new city with some money to spend.”

  Sorrell took a drink. “Will you need a place to stay?”

  Jacob took a deep breath, confident the danger of their conversation had been averted. “I might just take you up on that.”

  • • • • •

  The longer he sat, the more uneasy Samuel became. He wanted desperately to know what Sorrell and Jacob were speaking of, and resolved to find out. Moving out of the construct enclosure, he made his way back down the hall as stealthily as he could and approached the entrance to the sitting room in the shadows of the darkened hallway. He inched his way as close as he dared, enough he could just hear the conversation within.

  “…old is it?” he heard Sorrell ask.

  “I don’t rightly know,” was Jacob’s response. “I’ve only been in his company a few days. But I figure a construct that age, fully intact, could be worth a tidy sum.” Samuel started, mortified by Jacob’s words.

  “To the right buyer.”

  “Are you saying you’re interested?”

  Was he hearing this right? Jacob, making a deal for Samuel as though he were nothing more than property? Theft of independence, indeed.

  “What are your plans, then?”

  “Not really sure. I’ll make that decision once I’ve dropped the kids and turned a bit of profit on the canner. I will, after all, be in a brand new city with some money to spend.”

  A rising tide of anger and disappointment washed away anything else that had been said. All along it had been nothing more than another score driving Jacob’s interest in Samuel’s plight and now, after all this time, the other shoe had dropped. How valuable the information in his head must have been, for Jacob to have gone through all this just for a chance at a payoff. Jacob had admitted to him he was more interested in the adventure, so maybe part of this was about the adrenaline rush.

  Every ounce of Samuel’s being wanted to storm into that room. But what would he do? What would he say? Tipping his hand would put him at odds not only with Jacob but with Sorrell and likely make the whole of Kelef an even more dangerous place than it already was. And what about Pare and Eriane? They were blind to the trap, and he needed to tell them, needed to help them get away.

  Samuel made his way down the dark hallway, sure to keep his footsteps on the wide running rug laid in the middle so his metal feet wouldn't sound on the hard marble floors. More laughter drifted out from the sitting room; Sorrell and Jacob had
returned to commiserating. He reached Eriane’s room and gave a light rap on the door. When there was no answer he opened it and found the room empty. The bed was untouched, and Eriane’s things were nowhere to be seen.

  A moment of panic set in, and he crossed the hall to Pare’s room and entered without knocking, startling Pare and Eriane with his sudden entrance. Pare’s pack was at his feet and he was clothed for travel. He raised his hands, ready to work some sort of defense, but he dropped them and looked at Eriane, shaking his head.

  “Samuel!” Pare said in a loud whisper. “Get in here and shut the door!”

  Samuel did as he was told. “What’s going on?”

  “Pare says we have to leave,” Eriane said, exasperated. “He won’t listen to me! He thinks Jacob is up to something with Sorrell. I’m trying to tell him Jacob would never do that to us. Not after everything he’s done to help us. Tell him!”

  When Samuel said nothing, Pare stopped moving and the two of them looked at him for a response. Pare tilted his head, awaiting some sort of rebuttal, but when none came, Eriane stepped forward. “Samuel?” She asked, the question laden with expectation.

  “I’m sorry, Eriane,” he said. “But Pare’s right this time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  All Samuel wanted was to tell her that everything was fine. The thought of detailing what Jacob said was almost too much for him. “I… I heard them talking, in the sitting room.” He couldn’t continue. “What tipped you off?” he asked Pare.

  Pare shrugged. “I heard them talking earlier, after I’d bathed. All night I’ve been watching, and something’s off. I don’t want to take the chance.”

  Eriane’s shoulders sank. She breathed in and her eyes narrowed. The disappointment was palpable, and the sadness on her face would have broken Samuel in two—if it had lasted. Just before he thought she’d break down, her jaw set and her face hardened, and she began to pack her things. Pare still had his head down and was strapping on his pack as Eriane finished bundling up.

  “You ready?” Pare asked her in a low voice, his eyes still downturned.

  “Yep.” She said, shoving the last few things into her pack. The disappointment was gone from her face, replaced by…nothing. No anger, no sadness, not even resignation. No emotion at all. “Come on, Samuel. Let’s get out of here.” she said.

  The three of them looked at each other, and both Pare and Samuel nodded their assent. After an all-too-brief respite, they were on the run again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  * * *

  Snow swirled and danced in the night air. Eriane’s and Pare’s breath hovered in white clouds before their faces. As they walked, Samuel realized none of them had even the slightest idea of how to find Acthemenius.

  Walking through the city was like navigating an empty maze, but at intervals they could see the chasm and gain some sort of bearing. The quarters through which they walked had no taverns or inns and were thus empty of the usual nighttime revelry of a city. Samuel didn’t know how long they’d been walking in the silent winter night when he noticed Eriane was no longer with them and he tapped Pare on the arm. She had stopped some distance behind and was staring up at the next terrace.

  “It’s the library” she said, her voice small but her eyes wide. They looked up at the building towering above them. “I’ve only seen it in drawings. It’s so much more massive than I expected.”

  The building was an impressive structure amongst an impressive city. The granite-columned monolith of a building started on the second tier and extended all the way past the tier above, five or six stories tall and four times the length of the largest neighboring building.

  “I bet they’d have a city map,” Eriane said.

  “There’s no way we’d get in at this time of night,” Pare said.

  “Maybe we just need to ask someone,” Samuel offered.

  “Right, and draw attention to ourselves?” Pare said, incredulous. “Um, excuse me, sir…can you tell me how to find your local crazy construct cultist in the middle of the night?” he said in a dullard’s tone. “Besides, the only people we’ve seen out is the night watch.”

  “That’s perfect, then,” Samuel said, looking up and down the street. A watchman rounded the corner a few blocks away. “Ah, here’s one now. You two should step into the alley here for a moment.”

  The guard was clad in a fur lined cloak bearing the Kelef coat of arms, strolling up the street from below them. Before either of them could object, Samuel was on his way. He looked back to see Eriane take Pare’s arm and duck into one of the stairwells leading to the terrace above. Samuel approached the guardsman.

  “Excuse me, sir.” Samuel affected the tinny monotone of a normal construct. “I was wondering if you might be able to help?”

  The guardsman’s voice was gruff, and he coughed once in the cold night air before speaking. “Oy. What do ye need, then?” he asked.

  “One of our other servant constructs has gone missing, sir.” Samuel said in his flat tone. “Our master believes it’s gone looking for…well…you-know-who. Searching it out is not the type of task my master normally engages in, so he sent me to see what I could find out.”

  “Who’s yer master, then?” the guardsman asked.

  “Master Sorrell Antenum, sir,” Samuel said, fully expecting the gamble to fail.

  “Ah, Antenum,” The guardsman said with a knowing shake of his head. “That man goes through constructs faster than Count Felinus goes through wives.”

  Samuel didn’t understand the reference, but took on an affected construct-laugh and hoped he’d gotten the tone right. The guardsman flashed him a concerned look, and hurried to end the conversation. “Acthemenius’s goons are usually down in the Grotto.”

  Samuel pressed on. “The Grotto, sir?”

  “You don’t know the Grotto?” the guardsman said, shifting his weight.

  “I’m new to the household, sir.” Samuel said. “And I’m afraid Master Antenum didn’t give me much to go on.”

  The guard shook his head. “On the east bank at the downward end. Cross over and head down until you can smell sewage, and you’ve found your way.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Samuel said with a shallow bow.

  “Don’t thank me,” the guardsman said, stepping around Samuel. “Good night to ye,” he said, heading on his way.

  After the guardsman passed the stairwell and rounded a corner up the street, Pare and Eriane re-joined Samuel.

  “That was almost too simple,” Pare said.

  “And brilliant,” Eriane added.

  “I haven’t been around long,” Samuel said, returning to his normal voice. “But I’ve already learned people don’t see constructs as anything but property. If I present myself like property, they won’t suspect anything’s amiss.” He shrugged.

  “Well, I’m glad it worked out,” Pare said. “I didn’t really want to have to take out a city guardsman tonight.”

  “Let’s try not to think like that, okay?” Samuel said. “We’ve got enough trouble as it is, and our night’s getting shorter.

  • • • • •

  “So, what exactly did you hear?” Eriane asked Samuel as they walked.

  “Are you sure you want to know?” Samuel said.

  “Of course I want to know,” Eriane said. “I can’t just walk into all this blind because you all think I can’t handle the truth.”

  Samuel shook his head. “You’re right, of course.” Samuel recounted everything he’d heard between Jacob and Sorrell.

  The look on Eriane’s face hovered between confusion and disappointment. “Are you sure of what you heard?” she asked.

  “I don’t know whether my hearing can play tricks on me,” Samuel said, “but I’d venture not. Their conversation was pretty straightforward.”

  Eriane sighed, then ground her teeth. “That son of a bitch.”

  “Eri!”

  “Well! It’s true,” she said. After a pause, she continued. “We h
aven’t been here even a full day, and he’s already making deals to ditch us. After everything we’ve been through, I can’t believe it was all about the money. I trusted him.”

  “We all did,” Samuel said. This drew a skeptical look from Pare, but Samuel was thankful he didn’t voice his I-told-you-so.

  The sound of the waterfall was only just audible as they approached the downward end of Kelef, barely a trickle through a twisting braid of crystal and white. All three of them were awestruck by the fortress wall, soaring into the mountain cleft above the waterfall column, an impenetrable, unbroken curve of smooth granite. Away from the fortress, the terraced city spread out, its many bridges forming a seemingly unbroken canopy over the chasm through its center, capped at the opposite end by the dominant Gate Bridge. In the daylight the city was magnificent; all color and light shimmering in the surface of sparkling granite. At night, as the snow fell, it took on a powerful ethereal quality that was at once breathtaking and menacing.

  When they reached the end of the bridge, the guardsman’s advice became apparent. The musty smell of damp earth wafted up into the street, mingled with stale beer and rotten food. Stout marble gave way to flat stone façades that appeared to front spaces excavated straight into the rock. They’d entered an enormous natural cavern, the roof of which towered above the tops of the tallest buildings. Although the area was bright with lamp and torch light, the claustrophobic architecture made the cavern feel even darker than the night outside. There was no doubt they’d entered the Grotto.

  Malicious figures stirred in every dark corner of the place. They picked up the pace through the narrow streets. As they descended, the façades became more utilitarian, sometimes no more than a doorframe blocking the entrance to a small cave mouth. Samuel saw Eriane raise a hand to her nose to ward off the rank, moist air.