by C B Williams
Mouse nodded up at him, her eyes huge. This was a different Mouse, he mused. The Mouse he was used to was all lethal self-control. This Mouse looked small and frightened, just like her namesake. He squeezed her hand again. “We’re doing well, Mouse. Nobody’s paying attention, and we’ve almost reached our first stop.”
She took a deep breath. “You’re right,” she said with one emphatic nod. “Let’s get on with it. I’m being daft.”
Without replying, he led her to a grimy-looking side street.
Grimy only by UpperUpper standards.
He paused in front of a small shop with blacked-out windows. With a nod to Mouse, Spider led the way up the two steps to the door and pushed it open. Inside, they found themselves in a small waiting area with dingy, frayed furniture placed carefully around an equally dingy, frayed rug.
“May I help you ladies?” a slight man asked. He smiled and nodded when the two turned around.
Spider cleared his throat. “We were told this was a good place to discreetly procure certain documents,” he whispered huskily.
“We do have our limitations, but I’d say we could provide nearly anything you two ladies could have in mind.” The man answered with an appreciative smile. “For the right price,” he added.
“What price for new identifications, a whole set of documents?” Spider asked.
“Oh, nothing illegal, I’m afraid,” the man replied. “I want no trouble.”
“What about a change in birth year?” Mouse asked, lowering her eyes. “We lied about our age—”
“At our local drinking establishment,” Spider finished.
“Ah, that I can do,” the man said with a wink.
Spider smiled and shook his hair out of his eye.
The man cleared his throat and blushed.
“What about new identifications? We have another friend we wanted to bring to the pub with us,” Spider explained. “You know what it’s like. Some places wouldn’t accept her if—” he paused. “Well, I don’t want to say anything further, since you indicated you didn’t wish to risk attracting trouble. Could you recommend someone? I’ve heard that Max is very good.”
The man stilled. “Max? Max’s retired.”
Spider looked crestfallen. “Oh dear. Oh dear. Retired, you say? We went by there first, of course, but I thought he had merely relocated as he does so frequently.” Spider winked. “He owes me a little favor, you see.”
“And I had something for him,” Mouse added. “A gratitude gift.” She made her eyes large and sad, and looked at Spider, who patted her hand and nodded.
Silence filled the dingy little shop.
The man cleared his throat. “I might know where Max is,” he offered.
Mouse looked up and smiled her dazzling smile.
The man blinked and looked dazed for a moment. “Do you know the Upper Upper?” he asked, naming a street.
“I know exactly where that is,” Spider told the man with a smile of his own. He flipped his hair again and was delighted to see the man blush once more.
“The house number is 235. A lovely building,” the man added wistfully.
“Thank you, so, so much,” Mouse said and glanced down at her arm, hiding the fact she wore no timekeeper. “Goodness! Francine, look at the time. Mother will be distressed.” She smiled at the man. “Thank you very much. I shall now be able to deliver my gratitude gift. It’s a lovely gratitude gift. I know Max will be so happy.”
She nearly pushed Spider out the door in her haste to leave.
When they reached the main street, Mouse began to retrace their steps.
“Wait, the street is the other way,” Spider told her.
“We’ll go in a couple of days. Or, you’ll draw me a map and I’ll go alone, I haven’t decided.”
“But didn’t you want to find Max?”
Mouse shushed him by putting a finger to his lips.
They quickened their pace but not enough to draw attention.
“Can you take us down a couple of side streets?” She asked Spider. “We’re being followed. No, don’t turn around,” she ordered. “They’re far enough back that if we turn off the main street and run, we’ll be fine.”
“Come,” Spider said. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the next side street and broke into a run.
The rest of UpperUpper passed Mouse in a blur as Spider threaded them through the streets. He finally tugged her into a doorway in a quiet street. “We can go down this street and end back at the street where we entered UpperUpper, or we can go up. You mentioned you liked up.”
“Always, if there’s a choice.” Mouse gazed upward, looking for the easiest way to access the rooftops. “Here,” she said, leading him over to a fire escape. “Our rooftop highway awaits.”
She swung up and then reached down to assist Spider, who scrambled up beside her, nearly unseating her from her perch.
“Sorry, I’m not the most coordinated.”
“Not to worry. You’ve got other strengths. Let’s go. Follow exactly where I put my feet, or as near as you can, to avoid any loose tiles. We’ll go slow.”
They moved down the row of roofs in silence. When they came to a cross street, she showed him how to swing himself over. He balked at first, but she kept encouraging him. “Just don’t look down. It’s easy if you don’t look down.”
To Spider’s surprise, it was.
He landed with a little laugh and Mouse clapped him on the back. “Well done, there.” She looked around behind them. “I think we’ve come far enough, if you want to take off some of your disguise. She produced a cloth sack from her tunic’s pocket.
The first thing Spider did was yank the wadded socks out of his under-tunic and finger comb his hair so it lost its part.
With a grin, Mouse took the socks from him and placed them neatly in the bag. “It really was a fine disguise,” she said as she watched him take off his skirt and neck scarf. She accepted them, then pulled the bag closed. “Now you’re back to your spoiled UpperUpper self,” she declared. “Although I’ve never known you to ever wear such…bold…colors.”
“I’ll return the leggings and tunic later, if you don’t mind,” he answered dryly. “May I borrow your cape to hide the pink?”
“Are you sure?” Mouse asked as she unfastened her cape and handed it to him. “Pink looks rather nice on you. Brings out your rosy cheeks.”
Spider snorted. “Oh, I’m sure.”
“Admit it, it was fun wearing a disguise.”
He nodded reluctantly, then felt a slow grin spread across his face. “I made him blush. Twice.”
Mouse laughed.
Someone called out softly and he shot an anxious look at Mouse.
“S’okay. It’s just Wings, one of my eyes. He’s called Wings ’cuz it looks like he can fly over these rooftops. I’ve never seen anyone so fast. Even beats me.”
Mouse waved at someone pressed against a chimney. Spider could barely make out the slight figure in the shadows. Wings would have been invisible had he not known where to look.
“We’re nearly home,” Mouse said after a little while.
“Could have fooled me. It all looks the same from up here.”
“You start to pick out landmarks after a while. See that broken window? That’s one of my landmarks. You did well today, Spider. We make a good team.”
Spider smiled. “A good team, huh? Wish I had a different disguise.”
“Two women are less threatening, I’d hate to give that up, but for your sake, I bet we can think of another disguise.”
“Just wish we could have gotten to Max.”
“It’s okay. I’ll wager Max already knows we were asking about him.”
“The people following us?”
Mouse nodded. “If it was me, I’d have people posted at all active forgers’ places of business. That’s why we didn’t go to Max right away. I didn’t want to go as a prisoner. No, when they question the nice, blushing man, he’ll pass along the code word and
Max will be expecting Wren.”
“Code word?”
“Gratitude gift. That’s Wren’s code when she wants to see Max. We’ll be expected, and we’ll be welcomed.”
“You’re so clever, Mouse. You’ve thought of everything.”
She laughed. “Not me. Wren. Wren thinks of everything.” She stopped suddenly. “By the Gods, I miss that woman. I feel so lost without her. I just hope I don’t screw it up.”
Spider put an arm around her and patted her shoulder. “You’ve got Flick, Mouse. And me. Perhaps the three of us together can equal one of her.”
Mouse leaned into him, surprising them both. “Perhaps so.”
Chapter 10
Max
Max frowned, his grizzled white brows nearly meeting at the middle. So the clever girl finally found me. He had a soft spot for Wren. Unfortunately, he owed her a lot of favors he’d rather not pay back. “When was this?”
“Yesterday,” the small, nondescript man answered.
All Max’s people were nondescript.
“And you lost them?”
The nondescript fellow nodded. “They were good. Knew the streets up here as well as me. Perhaps better.”
“Interesting,” Max sat back and steepled his fingers, his elbows resting on the arms of the large wing-backed chair he used almost like a throne. “Well, she’ll give me a couple of days to settle down and then we’ll have a visit from her. What else do you have for me?” For a retired man, I still seem to have a lot to manage.
It suddenly occurred to Max that he had become a KinLord of sorts for all the riffraff who managed to escape the bowels of Sub-City. He’d never been down there, and he thanked all he held sacred that he had not. What he heard was enough to convince him to remain right where he was, Above and on the fringes of the UpperUpper. Although with this last move, he mused, he’d finally crossed the line into a more resplendent atmosphere, where he was determined to remain.
“Sir?”
Max blinked. “Sorry, you were saying?”
“I was telling you about Wooster. He was arrested and wants you to help him.”
“Again? What for this time?”
“Embezzlement.”
Max tsked and shook his head sadly. “That I cannot do. Not unless I wish to fall with him. Tell him I will do what I can to lighten his sentence, and I will ensure his family is cared for. It’s all I can do. Wooster can’t expect me to clean up after him every time he gets into trouble.”
The nondescript man, Ingot by name, nodded and referred to the list in his hand. “I believe that’s it for today.”
“Good. Maybe I’ll have some peace and quiet. Why don’t you make yourself scarce, Ingot? There’s a good lad.”
Not waiting for a response, Max got out of his chair and strode over to the window. He stretched his back to get the kinks out while he looked across the Above.
In the distance the government buildings’ spires gleamed like sharp needles in the light. If he craned his neck he could see the spaceport, where shuttles circled like birds waiting to land. If he ever decided to move again, which was more than likely, he wanted a full view of the spaceport. He enjoyed watching the little bursts of light when the shuttles exited the atmosphere. One day, he again promised himself, he would visit some of the other Ring planets.
“One day,” he said aloud and turned from the window. “But not today,” he muttered while returning to his desk to read the mail.
He’d tried to retire. He really had. But he had been too bored. He liked being in the center of things. He liked knowing what was going on. In fact, truth be told, he was looking forward to Wren’s visit. He’d heard rumors of a huge Kin war in Sub-City a few weeks back. The Martials had been called in to intervene, so his sources had said. Wren was a KinLord. She’d fill him in, he thought with satisfaction.
Putting Wren out of his mind, Max refocused on his correspondence. He wanted to be finished before lunch.
“Show her in,” Max said, linking his hands. He had decided to treat Wren as a special guest. The teacakes were already artfully arrayed on a gilded platter centered on his living room coffee table. The tea would be provided when his guest arrived. Which was now.
“Bring the tea,” Max said as he strode over to the wide entrance to his room.
She was dressed in her assassin’s greys with the hood up so her face was in shadows. How like Wren to make a dramatic entrance and remind others of her deadlier qualities, qualities Max had often made use of.
“Wren, my dear!” he exclaimed, holding out his hands. “How good it is to see you.”
She stepped into the room and pushed back the hood.
He gasped as the hood settled about her shoulders.
The woman was the same height and build. Similar coloring as well, but where Wren’s dark auburn hair grew in thick, coiled mats which fell to the middle of her back with a friendly bounce, this woman’s hair was sleek and dark and tied back in a braided tail. Her dark eyes gazed at Max soberly.
“You’re not Wren.”
The woman shook her head and gave him a sad smile. “No. I am Mouse, Wren’s eyes. “
“I’ve heard of you, Mouse.”
His voice had chilled perceptibly. Someone not as skilled as Mouse would not have noticed. She was suddenly very glad she had brought extra knives and had left Spider at home. Despite his amiable appearance, this man was as dangerous as an unchained sniffer.
“I’ve heard of you as well, Max.”
‘Then it is time we met and got to know each other. Please, sit.”
In silence, they sat and faced each other, two professionals sizing up a possible opponent.
Sitting in her greys, Mouse felt like a pile of soot while she gazed at Max’s multi-colored brocade smoking jacket tied loosely about his softening middle. He was an older man, medium height. A shock of white hair topped his affable features. Below bushy white brows, the deep brown eyes studying her were keenly aware, reminding her of Wren. Her spirits plummeted.
“Perhaps you would like a teacake while you tell me why Wren has dishonored me by sending you in her stead,” Max said gesturing to the pretty plate.
“No, thank you,” Mouse said. “I assure you, if she could, Wren would be here in my stead. When last I saw her, she told me to come to you for help. She also told me not to trust you. I wonder, Max, how do you ask for help yet not trust the help you might receive?”
Max’s laugh was big and booming. “I like you, Mouse. I do. But then, Wren always knew how to pick her friends. How is our Wren?”
“Dead. At least we think so. It’s been more than two months.”
The man sagged and his eyes lost some of their predatory gleam.
“How can Wren be dead? It’s just not possible.”
Mouse looked at her hands. “It’s been more than two months since we saw her,” she repeated. “We would have heard something by now.”
“What happened?”
“There was to be a Culling.”
“Yes, I heard about that, but then a KinLord war broke out and the Martials were sent in to keep the peace.”
“That is not exactly what happened.”
“Please, tell me what really happened. I prefer to know the truth of all things.” He grinned, the cunning light suddenly back in his eyes. “I prefer to be the one doing the deceiving.”
“We all would prefer that,” Mouse agreed. “The thing is, Wren was betrayed.”
“Impossible.”
“Possible. She has a weakness. Her compassion, as you probably know.”
Max grunted.
“No one was turned away from her KinLands, and she was a just Lord. Word spread. The number of Kin increased. Soon we were the largest KinFolk tribe. And Wren knew how to govern. We had a good system. We were thriving,” she paused. “At least as well as one can thrive in Sub-City. Anyway, Wren’s power appears to have worried the two lords who bordered her Kindom. As a result, Fergus and MacMichaels banded together with the Ma
rtials.”
“Wait. You said with the Martials? The Above knew what was going on down in Sub-City?”
“I believe they organized it,” Mouse said. “Fergus and MacMichaels are both too greedy and dumb to plan anything like what happened. On my solos, I saw a lot of Martial traffic back and forth. There was to be a Cull. Wren knew. She says she has no knacks, but she knew there would be a Cull before we heard a word about it. I just had to verify it, and I did. Flick and I. Flick’s Wren’s Second,” Mouse explained.
She worried she’d said too much, but Max had this way about him. It made it easy to say more than you should. A knack? She wasn’t sure. What she was sure of was if he was going to help, he needed to know all of it. So she continued.
“The thing Flick and I found out was, yes, there would be a Cull, but they’d only be Culling Wren’s Kin. And we prepared for that. We were all set for a long hide. We pre-Culled, so we could give the Martials something to take back with them, the Kin with the knacks the Martials look for. That way they’d leave the old, young’uns and injured alone, you see. Wren’s that smart.” Mouse stopped.
“What went wrong?” Max asked softly.
Mouse sat back and looked up at the ceiling. It was painted, full of fat cherubs and clouds. “Turns out one of our runners, a young kid, got caught,” she said to the cherubs. “Turns out the kid was our Grainer’s boy. Turns out they threatened our Grainer, and he ratted us out. They massacred us,” she told the cherubs and hoped the tears would stay inside her head if she kept looking up.
She swallowed to help them stay hidden. “All those old folks, young kids, all settled down for a nice, cozy hide. The Martials came in, went directly to Tunnel Two like they’d known all along—and they had—burned the ropes we had trussed up to keep everyone from the damp. Trapped the Kin and burned them too. Then they came for the rest of us. House to house.” Suddenly she didn’t care if the tears fell or not. Losing Kin was a crying matter. She tore her eyes from the ceiling and looked at Max again.
“What happened to the Grainer?”