The Sunken City Trilogy

by Phil Williams

  Edwing said, “Good to meet you, Letty. I hope we’ll speak again.”

  Letty stared at Rolarn as their guest sped off towards the exit. Her hand itched over her pistol. “After the shit I’ve been through, you think I’m gonna let you drag me into an FTC-sponsored –”

  “Relax,” Rolarn said, his own voice strained. “Lightgate’s got a good thing going.”

  “So good you didn’t want me to know?”

  “So you could fuck it up like that? It doesn’t involve you, Letty.”

  “That,” Letty hissed, “pretty well looked like it involved me.”

  Rolarn gave her a grim look. “Alright. Imagine the Dispenser resurfaces, we can call Val a liar, say she did nothing to get it back. But that’s ignorance, she can weather that. Now imagine she did something to actively conceal it. Something serious.”

  “The fuck are you talking about? With the Dispenser, we don’t need Val –”

  “What if she’d done something against her principles?” Rolarn finished. “Like murdered humans to cover up this weapon. Citizen Barton, of all people. A celebrity.”

  “What?” Letty said, incredulous. “You want to finish what Val started? Because it’s a psycho move? We’ve got witnesses – we can tell people –”

  “Tell hell,” Rolarn snorted. “Actions speak louder. Dead bodies speak loudest.”

  “You bloody idiots,” Letty snapped. “It’s not happening. I’m taking the humans.”

  “No you’re not.”

  “You’re gonna make me hurt you?”

  “You got close to that girl for whatever reason, fine. But the rest of them – you must value your life over them? You must value the restoration of the FTC over them.”

  Letty glanced downstairs. She’d seen enough from these hapless humans to know they weren’t scum. The women were bloody bystanders, and Barton was ready to blunder into any old shit for a righteous fight. She locked on Rolarn again, ready to shoot him down. Except his shotgun was on her; it’d only get her dead. She said, “What’s the plan, then? String them along until we’ve got the Dispenser, then stage a slaughter?”

  “Something like that,” Rolarn said. “Edwing and his sort might have given us more support. Can’t say I expected much from him, though.”

  “More support with what?”

  “Other pies,” Rolarn said, blandly.

  Letty kept staring. Definitely ready to hurt this bastard. “Where’s Lightgate now?”

  “Couldn’t say,” Rolarn said.

  “Arnold?”

  He shrugged.

  “I’m gonna go find them.”

  “No. You’re staying here. Might be best you hand me your gun.”

  “You can take it when I’m dead.”

  Rolarn held her gaze, unmoved and not moving. He curled his upper lip like it wasn’t worth it, and said, “So keep it. So much as think about drawing it and I end you.”

  Her head clear after a little sleep on the hard floor, Holly was eager to take action. Pax would return with more answers, and she would be ready to take the baton from there. She’d take them from inactive hiding to a complete, workable plan against the government. Starting with legal counsel.

  To prepare, Holly continued trying to gather information. Darren and Rimes were reticent about their pasts, but she drew dribs and drabs from them, mostly through the art of flattery. By thanking Darren for his attempts to protect them, she got an idea of the time frame he’d operated in; exploring those tunnels from shortly after Grace was born until she was almost three. It was awful to hear, yes, but she avoided criticising him. At least for now.

  “And it never struck you to work with these little people before?” Holly asked, an eye on the fat fairy on the till. Letty was standing angrily apart from him. She always seemed angry, that one.

  “We heard stories about them,” Darren said, but did not elaborate. Despite her efforts, he still expected her to trap him.

  “Have you studied them, at all?” Holly asked Rimes. The doctor was surprised to be addressed, and anxiously shook her head.

  “I would love to. I’d never seen one –”

  “None of us had,” Darren said. “Not until Apothel did. It killed him.”

  Holly could see this going down a road they’d trodden before, so she sighed and stood up. Clearly it would be best to get everyone talking, to get over that hump. She approached the little people on the counter. “We could do with some more water, couldn’t we? I can bring us some more.”

  “You don’t have to do anything,” Darren said. “Just rest.”

  “What about food? We’ll get on to lunch before long.” She turned to Rimes. “Do you have some money?”

  “Me?” Rimes started patting her pockets. “Yes – that is – I think so –”

  Holly turned back to find Rolarn and smiled. “Aren’t you hungry? I can do a run.”

  “Best not,” Rolarn said.

  “I’d like to pull my weight. Being idle doesn’t suit me.”

  “It does when the MEE are watching.”

  “I hardly believe they’ve got eyes on every CCTV screen in the city. I saw a WH Smiths downstairs, I’ll drop by there.”

  “You’ll sit back down.”

  Holly frowned. This wasn’t the bridging exercise she’d had in mind, and that sounded decidedly like an instruction. She looked to Letty. “You think it’s not safe, now?”

  Letty held her gaze but said nothing.

  Rolarn said, “She thinks you’ll sit back down and wait.”

  Holly blinked at him, hard. His tone had barely changed, but that was a threat. Darren had heard it too; he shifted behind her, making the unhappy noise that came with him preparing to get confrontational.

  “For your own good,” Rolarn said, a little testy. Holly frowned at his infernal gun, glued to his hands.

  “Leave it, lardo,” Letty said, savagely, “let the lady go get some water.”

  There’d been no issue when they’d been escorted to the toilets, with the Fae keeping an eye out for cleaners and whatever. Something had happened when they’d gone upstairs, leaving them in this tense state, Holly was sure.

  “If it’s all the same,” Holly said, slowly, “I think I’ll be okay, and could certainly use a little break from this room.” She held the tiny man’s gaze, aware that the issue now was not what she planned to do, but whether or not this fairy would permit it.

  “Sit down,” he said, settling that.

  “What the hell are you –” Darren started, going to stand.

  “Don’t,” Rolarn said, voice raised just enough to say any further movement might lead to violence. Holly glanced over her shoulder. Darren was in a half-crouch, supporting himself on his hands, furious eyes locked on the counter. Grace had stirred behind him, sitting up alongside Rimes, both markedly worried.

  They were all, of course, thinking the same as Holly. Were they prisoners, now?

  Rimes spoke into the tension. “Darren...” She managed to squeeze a lot of terror and confusion into that one word.

  “I’ll make this clear,” Rolarn said. “You all need to stay put.”

  “Well,” Holly said, “you can’t –”

  “You don’t need to stay alive.”

  Holly clamped her mouth shut. Rolarn’s shotgun faced her gut. He was actually pointing a gun at her, what was that weapon capable of? Letty was on her feet, a hand on her pistol in its holster, too. Except she was turned side-on to Holly. Facing Rolarn.

  “Darren,” Rimes whimpered again, and was joined by a bleat from Grace, “Dad.”

  “It’s okay, keep calm,” Darren replied, waving one of his big hands but otherwise not daring to move. “Holly. Come back here.”

  Holly was rooted to the spot. Her family hadn’t braved a labyrinth of unholy monsters to succumb to a miniature gunman. She’d failed to do anything about them last time, when they invaded her home, but she had no idea they were coming, then. This was just one man – a tiny bully – within arm’s re
ach. Her daughter was here, her husband.

  “I don’t like it, I don’t like it,” Rimes said, voice teetering. “This isn’t right.”

  “Mandy, please,” Darren said. Grace whispered something to the doctor, trying to comfort her.

  “Shut her up,” Rolarn said, “and sit down.”

  “Rolarn,” Letty said, his name a warning on its own. She wasn’t on board with whatever these people had planned, and that meant Holly had to act. He had the bigger gun, and he was the bigger fairy by a long way. Holly was close. She could do something. No one expected it from her. Useless, uninvolved Holly.

  “There’s no protection here!” Rimes cried out, suddenly. “Worms!”

  Holly didn’t dare turn, no matter the rising madness in the doctor’s voice. Rolarn and Letty weren’t moving.

  “Ah, ah, ah…” Rimes started shaking her head.

  “Are all your human friends insane?” Rolarn demanded, with a sideways look at Letty.

  “Must be,” Letty grumbled back, “trusting me.”

  “Ah ah ah!”

  “Shut her up!” Rolarn was losing his cool, at last.

  “Let me –” Darren reached towards her, but Rimes moved suddenly, up on her feet, throwing both hands over her ears. Grace scrambled away with fright.

  “Not safe, never safe!” Rimes started raving. “Worms return, between bricks between soil under earth –”

  “Mandy! Look at me!” Darren raised his voice.

  Rolarn’s hands flexed on the shotgun, his face steeling with irritation.

  “She’s not well,” Letty told him. “For crying out loud, give it up.”

  Rimes stepped away from the blankets, shaking, starting to wail. Darren winced onto his bad leg, trying to follow her, nowhere near. Holly glanced back as Rimes pointed suddenly at Rolarn and shrieked, “Not with the worms, never under earth!”

  And she made a dash for the escalator.

  Rolarn launched off the counter, booming, “Stop!”

  Rimes didn’t hear him in her panic, stumbling with flailing limbs towards the stairs. The shotgun went off, the blast tearing through the metal of the escalator and eliciting a startled scream from Rimes as she fell to the side. Darren was up, flinging his big body over the falling doctor. Rolarn turned in the air, gun swinging back around, past Holly, towards Letty. She was in the air, too, pistol firing. The gunshots snapped like small fireworks. It happened so fast, Holly moved without thinking, trying to follow Rolarn as he zipped through the air avoiding Letty’s shots. But her bullets were small – Holly’s hand was much harder to avoid.

  The impact made a dull slap, followed by the clatter of Rolarn’s gun skating across the floor and, a moment later, his own bump and grunt. He skidded to a halt near Holly’s feet, a crumpled mess of splayed limbs and ripped wings. She kept her hand up – the shocked pose that always follows an instinctive slap – had she killed him? A living, talking –

  Rolarn moved, a hand twitching to some other part of his body, and there was another, final gunshot that caught him in the centre of his bulbous chest. His tiny body convulsed once before going still.

  Letty buzzed near Holly, pistol aimed at the other fairy’s body. Her arm was scratched and bloody where a shotgun blast had glanced her, but the worst of Rolarn’s shot had been deflected by the dented and scratched metal strap of her artificial wing. She spat down at him, with a simple epitaph, “Prick.”

  Slowly, the others came back to life. Rimes cried in thick sobs, her panic replaced by a more muted despair. Darren pushed himself up onto his hands and knees with laboured breaths. Grace was breathing heavily, too, on the verge of tears.

  “I don’t understand,” Holly said. “I didn’t – why did he –”

  “They’re screwing us,” Letty said. She holstered her pistol and put her hand up to the wounded arm. Peppered with red scratches, bleeding. “Or more specifically, you. They wanted to complete what my boys started. You have to get moving. Now.”

  5

  Casaria sat in the office’s smallest med bay, Rufaizu two doors down. Sam Ward had left to find Dr Hertz, who was no doubt out on a cigarette break, as usual, leaving Casaria exactly where he needed to be. He could kick in the next door, drag Rufaizu to the lift and run. They wouldn’t have the Dispenser, but that hardly mattered. He could beat the answers they needed from the boy, prove or disprove Pax’s theories and settle everything. He had to admit he wasn’t so sure which questions exactly needed settling or why Pax had put such stock in the boy – but those answers would come, too.

  Anyway, it’d save the MEE a lot of embarrassment in the long run. When Casaria reported their findings – if he reported back – they’d court him for promotion. Set up his own initiative, even. He smiled.

  No, thank you.

  Yet he was sitting by an empty bed, waiting for Ward to come back. The smile left him. It’d been all work, from the moment she set eyes on him, exactly as he knew it’d be. Promises of reporting to Mathers, comments about completing forms. Sam Ward was as company-focused as ever. Still, she was here, now, and he could prove it to Pax. He could lay out their situation, and Sam would turn her nose up. Then he’d have to restrain her. He’d have an excuse. She couldn’t get in the way.

  But Sam had said it to the secretary: I’ve been looking for him.

  I, not we. And she’d seemed worried about the cuts on his face. Maybe her efforts to find Dr Hertz showed genuine concern, rather than a desire to get him back to work.

  The door opened and Ward entered alone, checking the corridor one last time. “I think he’s out to lunch. It’s not even midday.”

  “Lunch isn’t a time,” Casaria told her.

  She leant against the door, as far from him as possible, face hard to read. Plotting how much trouble she could get him in, no doubt. He’d let her scheme, then pull the rug out with what he now knew.

  “You look bad, Cano,” Ward said. “You should’ve gone straight to a hospital.”

  “I can handle a few scrapes,” Casaria said.

  She kept staring. With mild disgust? “It’s not about handling it; I’m sure you could grin and bear bleeding to death. Where were you?”

  “Taking care of our interests, where else?”

  “Why did they take you?” Her voice went up a pitch. “Can you just tell me what happened?”

  Casaria smirked. He’d forgotten how good it felt to get under her skin. She did care. She’d always cared and she couldn’t stand it. “It wasn’t related to what’s been going on here. I dealt with it.”

  “By the skin of your teeth, from the looks of you.”

  “You’re not so hot yourself, you know.” Her disgust intensified, but Casaria only smirked. It was true. There were messy stitches on her forehead and dark rings under her eyes. While she struggled to find the words to respond, he said, “I missed some fun yesterday. What’s the feeling in the office, with the damage that’s been done?”

  “Right now?” She shook her head, disappointed. Always disappointed by everyone else’s work. “It’s calmed down, so it’s no longer an issue. Heads back in the sand.”

  “I heard you’ve been hounding fugitives,” Casaria said. “Getting out there, for a change. Seizing whatever opportunity arises, huh?”

  The disgust in her face was replaced by confusion.

  “How do you know about all that?” she said.

  “My job requires observation, you know. How’s it working out for you? They gonna give you a more expensive desk –”

  “God dammit I spent the whole day looking for you! I almost got blown to hell! Stop pissing around and tell me where you’ve been!” She stamped a foot. Fists clenched at her sides. Tears sheened across her eyes.

  Had he gone too far? Forgotten she was sensitive?

  Casaria stood, swallowing hard. He held a hand her way. Should he offer to hug her? There was anger in those teary eyes, though. He said, “Are you okay?”

  The anger intensified. “Why are you here?”

>   “The praelucente’s dangerous, isn’t it? That must be clear by now. There’s difficult questions that Management aren’t willing to ask. Are you willing to ask them?”

  Sam glared and he expected another emotional response. Flat-out refusal. But as his words sank in, something shifted behind her eyes. Curiosity, the look of that naïve woman he’d first drawn into this game. She said, “She’s turned you. Is that it? Pax lied – she did take you and she turned you –”

  “Forget Pax,” Casaria said. “I’m asking questions. The Sam Ward I recruited, I thought, would’ve asked these questions, too. The answers” – Casaria pointed aside – “are with that boy. I need to take him out of here.”

  “Have you lost your mind?” Ward replied, her emotional roller-coaster taking her, finally, into numb disbelief. “Even you know better than to suggest working outside the Ministry.”

  “I never should’ve brought him here. There’s – wait, where are you going?”

  Ward had her hand on the door. “I shouldn’t be alone with you, this is more –”

  Casaria’s hand slammed past her, closing the door, creating a barrier. His face was suddenly inches from hers, her frightened breath on his cheek. So this was it. Just as he’d predicted. She didn’t speak, but the fear in her eyes said enough. There was no way she was coming with him – no way he could persuade this company girl.

  Only what needed to be done.

  At the perimeter of Broadplain Plaza, Letty whistled for the lummoxes to stop and fluttered down onto Holly’s shoulder. She checked up one street, then another, seeing no signs of pursuit. She took out the phone she’d recovered from Rolarn and started thumbing through it. It wasn’t much better than the burner he’d given her, but this one at least had internet access. While its browser loaded painfully slowly, she took stock of the humans watching her. Rimes was a shuddering mess, pale and frail as a skeleton, but barely scratched by Rolarn’s shot. Barton was limping determinedly with support from his daughter. Holly’s face looked like it might recede into her neck; she drew away from Letty like she had some kind of deadly disease. It made Letty snigger, noticing that the woman was rigid as a brick. She’d quickly got used to using Pax as a landing platform, and forgotten this kind of proximity was unusual for Fae and humans alike.