The Sunken City Trilogy

by Phil Williams

  He should go see her in person.

  5

  Pax knelt by the bed, with the fairy slumped in a seated position on the duvet. Letty had exhausted herself running and fighting and had very well established flying was not an option. Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths, her single wing occasionally fluttering. Vulgar and violent as she was, it was incredible to watch her. Her voice was quiet but easily audible, like a distant TV set. Her fingers were minuscule but slender and fully functioning. There was a subtle beauty in the way her hair flowed. Pax could sit and stare at this marvel for hours. Letty would not let her, though, not for a moment, even finding one last ounce of energy to snarl, “What the fuck are you looking at?”

  “I saved you, you know.”

  Letty glowered at her. Impossibly mustering more strength for insults, the fairy pushed herself to her feet and made a show of curtsying, speaking with bitter sarcasm, “Oh thank you! My hero!”

  “You’re a dick,” Pax concluded.

  “Don’t like suffering giant pricks, that’s all.”

  “Well, you’re here now, and you’re not going anywhere. So are you ready to talk?”

  Letty slumped back onto the duvet and folded her arms. “Ain’t got a thing to say to you.”

  “Did you kill Apothel?” Pax got straight to the point.

  Letty gave her a vicious look, then said, “What’s it to you?”

  “Casaria says you’re trouble,” Pax said. “Talking to you seems likely to get someone killed. But when you told me you wanted Rufaizu, it was to get him away from them, right? Am I wrong?”

  “Like I said, what’s it to you?”

  Pax leant in, bringing her face close to Letty, and the fairy backed off slightly in surprise. Pax said, more firmly, “You threatened me, that’s what it is to me. You shot a bullet through my window. So how about you answer my questions or I’ll crush you?”

  Letty did not move. Pax raised a hand, balled into a fist, demonstratively, and put on her meanest face. Rolling her eyes, Letty lay back onto her elbows.

  Pax sat back, humming in disappointment.

  “Yeah, thought so,” Letty laughed.

  “Well,” Pax said, “I don’t have to hurt you.”

  She lifted her hand again and Letty scrambled back across the duvet, waving frantically and shouting, “No no no, you fuck off with that grabby bullshit.”

  Pax paused. “Tell me what’s going on. What do you want with Rufaizu?”

  “He has something we’ve been after for a long time,” Letty said. “Okay?”

  “Yeah?” Pax said. “A weapon, right? Something that could be used in the Sunken City?”

  Letty paused. She replied slowly, “What do you know about it?” She pointed towards the head of the bed, where Apothel’s book sat. “Did he write it up in there? Who the fuck are you, anyway?”

  “How about I ask the questions? You’re after Apothel’s son because of that weapon?”

  Letty eyed her carefully, then started scanning the room. The fairy seemed to read the book spines she could see, then looked into the cupboard, where the odd brass canister sat. She took a few steps towards it suddenly, trying to see around Pax.

  “Holy shit, you’ve got it?” she said.

  Pax looked over her shoulder, then fell back to close the door and hide the contraption. She paused, blocking the cupboard, and looked down at the fairy. Both of them were well aware it had been far too late to hide anything.

  “Sweet gangrene.” Letty stood staring, strangely calmer. Almost in awe of having seen the device. “You know how long...how long I’ve been looking...” She shot Pax another look. “Rufaizu gave it to you?”

  Pax answered with a question of her own. “How’d he get mixed up in this?”

  “You oughta know. You’ve got the Dispenser. His daddy’s book. What else do you need?”

  “An explanation!” Pax insisted, shifting away from the cupboard again. “Please. I don’t trust this Ministry and I don’t like that they’ve got Rufaizu – but everyone says it’s your people that are dangerous. Even though you’re the only one that’s shown an interest in freeing him.”

  Letty kept staring at her, weighing up her options. She said, “Okay. So you’re not all the way on their side, maybe you need some schooling. What’s in it for me?”

  “I saved your life!”

  “Think that makes you hot shit, huh?”

  Pax gaped at her. She shook herself out of it and tried another point. “You talked to Apothel before you killed him, didn’t you?”

  Letty’s tiny eyes narrowed. “I didn’t kill him.” She paced aside, throwing angry looks at Pax, then over to the cupboard. Pax waited. The fairy huffed. “You want to get yourself killed too, is that it?”

  “One,” Pax held up a finger, “I want to pick the right side in this quagmire. Two,” a second finger, “I don’t think Rufaizu deserves whatever’s coming for him.”

  Letty kept eyeing her, considering whether or not to believe her.

  “Three,” Pax leant closer, “Casaria has offered me money – my own money, which I desperately need right now – and my instincts, in saving you, have potentially burnt that bridge. Give me something.”

  The fairy finally let out an annoyed breath and threw up her arms. “That’s a bridge you want burnt! Burnt, ground down and shat on! The Ministry are the vilest, most self-serving, pathetic gaggle of shits this world’s ever seen.”

  “And your people are better, are they? Apothel was shot –”

  “Not by me! I told him our weapons would make his dumb prancing around meaningless. All he had to do was wait. I tried to save him, from those that thought he needed removing. He went off half-cocked developing his own plan, though. He pleaded – begged – me to set up an audience with our great leader, Valoria.” Letty spat aside at the use of the name. “They said no, but he’d already gone off, before I told him that. He never gave my people a chance, not really. He snuck in and stole exactly the weapon I’d told him about. I’m blamed. Thank you very fucking much you stupid shit, last time I trust a human. Some prick I thought might be a friend.”

  Letty stopped and stared at Pax, letting this hang in the air. Pax said nothing, and she continued.

  “He turned up dead after that. But it sure as shit wasn’t me. It was an amateur – didn’t even know about the kid. Rufaizu vanished before anyone started looking for him. Meanwhile my crew and I are all exiled. And between then and now, which has been a shitting long time, I’ve been trying to find that weapon – that thing you have apparently just stumbled upon.”

  Pax crouched in front of her. “You wanted to work with Rufaizu when he came back?”

  “I was working with him,” Letty said. “He resurfaced out of thin air, and told us he’d got the Dispenser. Rats knows where he’d been all these years, we didn’t have time to get chummy. We held off flat out handing him over to the FTC, and let him hang onto the device, because he said it needs a very specific fuel – something that can only be found underground. The weapon’s no use without it.”

  “What’s the FTC?” Pax asked.

  Letty rolled her eyes. “The Fae Transitional City, obviously. The great fucking refugee camp we got forced into when the Sunken City got overrun by the myriads.”

  Pax opened her mouth to ask another question, but Letty bowled on. Now her tongue was loose, she suddenly seemed a lot more comfortable spilling information.

  “So, Rufaizu convinces us to go after the fuel before anything else. It makes sense – you need something from the Sunken City to fight whatever’s down there – and it goes a ways to explaining why no one’s ever made another Dispenser. Except it turns out the fuel is some kind of electric weed, and it’s harder to get than you think. Needs someone with serious balls, like Citizen Barton. So Rufaizu tries to persuade the lummox, only my boys get drunk when they should be watching him, and he gets nabbed and here I am. Captured by a giant loser.” Letty turned aside and scuffed her boot across the duvet
with frustration.

  Pax let the fairy stew for a moment as it all sank in. There was much more going on than she’d appreciated, but the bottom line was simple. It all pivoted on the device stashed amongst her dirty laundry. The question was, what could she do about it?

  A loud knock interrupted her thoughts, the door shaking with the force of an impatient visitor.

  Pax and Letty shared a look of equal alarm.

  “Don’t you put me back in that box,” Letty hissed.

  “Pax, you with someone?” Casaria called from the hallway. “It’s only me.”

  “Only me?” Pax mouthed, as though his presence was supposed to be reassuring. Pax shot forward and grabbed the fairy, shoving her into a pocket before Letty had time to complain. Feeling the small lady punching and kicking, Pax closed her hand over her and warned, “He wants you dead!”

  Feeling Letty go limp, Pax moved her down into the deeper recesses of the pocket. Pax straightened her crumpled top, pushed her hair from her face, then opened the door.

  Casaria immediately strode in, scanning the apartment past Pax.

  “Come right in, why don’t you?” she said, testily.

  “Who were you talking to?” Casaria asked.

  “This is my home,” Pax snapped. “You don’t just barge in here, and I sure as shit don’t owe you an explanation as to who I talk to in here.”

  Casaria stopped in the middle of the room. His jacket was beeping. A low, regular beep, like a quiet Geiger counter. He took out a small device, the size and shape of an electronic guitar tuner. Holding it up, unapologetic, he said, “This detects things from the Sunken City. Fae, among others.”

  “You checking if I’m one of them?” Pax folded her arms. He came back towards her. The beeping increased the closer he got. She noticed the bandage on his hand and a graze near his right temple. “What happened to you?”

  “I’m going to ask you plainly,” he said, inches from her face, “do you still have that creature?”

  “You saw what I did,” Pax answered through gritted teeth. “Think it was a party trick?”

  “This doesn’t lie.” He held the device higher. She stood her ground.

  “So you want to frisk me? Or do you think maybe swallowing her got whatever that thing detects into my bloodstream? Maybe?”

  Casaria paused. He looked from her to the machine, the beeping continuing into the terse standoff. He lowered the device, frowning. Switched it off.

  Pax threw a hand towards the door. “Now could you kindly get the fuck out of my home?”

  “I…” Casaria hesitated. He ran a hand through his hair, averting his gaze. “This wasn’t why I came. I’ve been searching for them and I came to – not for this – it started beeping.”

  “You interrupted a call to my mum, you paranoid moron.”

  Casaria nodded, distractedly backing out. “Not paranoid. They came at me. The little bastards are ready to go to war, I swear.”

  “The fairies?” Pax questioned. Thinking quickly, she shifted to block his vision, making sure he wouldn’t see the bullet mark in her wall. She said, “And what, you thought if they came for you they’d come for me, too?”

  This got a smile. His tension faded as he apparently recalled the innocent woman he was dealing with. Arrogant twat. “I wouldn’t let that happen. They were after the boy. Trying to silence him, no doubt, seeing as they couldn’t spring him. They did a bad job. I’m sorry to worry you.”

  The danger of the situation caught in Pax’s throat. She thought back to Rufaizu, witness to his father’s death, kidnapped by the government for trying to talk to her. Not, as Barton had hoped, safe in custody. She asked, “Is he hurt?”

  “He’ll live,” Casaria sighed. “I told you those little shits were dangerous, didn’t I? Hence my concern that you did actually do...what you...you know.”

  “Yeah. Let’s not talk about it, okay?”

  “Okay. No. I didn’t come about that – I wanted to ask you to join me again this evening. I wanted to give you more warning, after last night. Some time to prepare. I’m going on patrol near one of the Sunken City exits. It could be educational. And, of course, financially rewarding.”

  “Yes, please, offer me my own money again,” Pax said. “Keep forcing shit on me.”

  Casaria stared at her. The awkwardness of his apology was gone, now, his face serious. He said, “You don’t have to come. But it would be in your interests.”

  Pax did not ask why. There was a thinly veiled threat in his tone.

  “I’ll be back at 8pm. How’s that sound?”

  “Sounds like you should go get some sleep,” Pax replied flatly.

  “So you’ll come?”

  She nodded. He smiled, genuinely pleased, and apologised once more before going out into the hall. He stopped to say something else, but she closed the door in his face. She rested there with her hand on the handle. Silence beyond. Then footsteps as he left. Descending the stairs.

  Pax looked through the spyhole. The corridor was empty. She took a breath and went to the window. She waited in silence. Finally, Casaria emerged in the street below, walking towards his car.

  Pax let out a breath of relief, thumping onto the bed and burying her face in her hands. She could feel the adrenaline now. She could act as well as a Hollywood star at the poker table, but the consequences of being caught out in a game seldom invoked the wrath of madmen with guns.

  Letty crawled out of her pocket and pulled herself up onto Pax’s thigh. She straightened out her t-shirt with a few irritated tuts as Pax parted her fingers to look down at her.

  “I think you need to explain to me,” Letty said, her voice quietly angry, “what you meant by swallowing her.” Pax shook her head, biting her lips closed, but the fairy was nodding, “Yeah, that sounds like something I need to know.”

  6

  Fresko leant against the wall with a hand on his upturned rifle, watching Mix across the room. The grizzled veteran was searching through a pile of tools and weapons, discarding handfuls of metal and leather contraptions that didn’t match what he was looking for. He’d said he had an idea, so Fresko waited it out. It gave him a moment, at least, to reflect on having left Gambay in the ground, and Letty somewhere far worse. That pair had been a thousand miles apart, a manic liability and their scheming leader, but they were both good Fae, in their own ways. They deserved a vigil, but Mix was racing forwards. Always a man of action.

  Probably better that way. Move on, take the next step, avoid dwelling on the dark hanging over them. It’d been bad enough just the four of them, all these years. Just the two of them promised to be worse. Whatever idea Mix was concocting, Fresko was happy to give it a go if it meant taking them that much closer to rejoining the wider Fae community in the FTC.

  “You’re sure there’s nothing we could do for Letty?” Mix asked. There was little genuine query in his voice, but he clearly wanted it repeated, to shirk the responsibility.

  “I know what I heard,” Fresko said firmly. “There’s not many reasons a person would say they swallowed a fairy, is there?”

  “Fucking animal,” Mix spat into the disparate pile of crap. He’d said it before and he’d say it again. “That’s what it’s come to, is it? Fucking animals.”

  “I know where she lives.” Fresko had thought about it already, and that was an option, too. “I could plug her from across the road. Didn’t look like she’s got any friends, no one would find her for weeks, most likely.”

  “She can wait. We lost Gambay being bull-headed, now we do things the smart way.” Mix turned to Fresko like he was expecting a comment. Some allusion to Letty’s ideas of what was smart and dumb, no doubt. If she were there, she’d never call whatever idea Mix had smart. The sniper shrugged, so Mix continued, “The way you and me know is smart. You know what Letty’s problem was? She thought too much.”

  “Reckon I think as much as her.”

  “Yeah but you think about killing. That’s smart thinking. She thought abo
ut how to please people. How to get Val and the FTC back on side without offending anyone. We never should’ve cared. Should’ve been doing what made sense to us – not worrying about wider bloody consequences. Should’ve been doing shit like this,” Mix pulled back from the pile triumphantly, lifting up the device he’d been looking for. It was the sawed-off tip of a human-sized pistol barrel, only 10mm thick but as wide as his chest, suspended in a contraption of shoulder harnesses and spring-loaded levers. He heaved it up with a grin. “She got soft – was scared to let us use this bad boy.”

  Fresko watched with a neutral expression, still stuck on a response to the reductive summary of his intelligence as being solely focused on killing. He knew about strategy, too; coming at things from different directions. Knew how to make a good rat stew, with the right spices. Knew how to dress so people took him seriously, and all; how to keep a shirt white and uncreased.

  Mix tested the weight of the gun-tip as he lifted the device’s straps over his shoulders. He pulled a lever and the springs pressed the gun barrel forwards rigidly, supported against his body. A classic Fae device, used to fool a human into thinking they had a gun jammed in them, if they believed someone was standing out of their view. Fresko said, “A guy like Barton knows our tricks, doesn’t he? And he’s stubborn as a mule besides. You think he’ll do anything at gunpoint?”

  “You see.” Mix pointed a finger his way. “That’s thinking too much. You’re jumping right into the problems, like Letty did, before considering the possibilities.”

  “What else are we gonna do?” Fresko said. “The goal’s still that fuel, isn’t it? And that means persuading Barton.”

  Mix was nodding. “Sure it does. But we’ll do it the way Gambay would’ve done it.”

  “Kids?” Fresko frowned, recalling their late partner’s frequent insistence that human kids were easy targets. Letty had never liked that suggestion, snarling about how erratic kids were, and how stupid Gambay was. That was their whole relationship right there; cautious and calculating versus brash and mad. Didn’t matter now that either was right or wrong. A day had passed and both of them were dead.