Her smile disappeared as the Fae news website loaded on the phone.
“Ah fuck. Not good.”
Barton shifted closer. “What?”
It was headline news: Sunken City Catastrophe as Apothel Five Resurface. The information was basic but the intention clear: the FTC media were reminding the world that Barton existed. Had Lightgate manipulated this, priming people for a high-profile murder? Letty held up the phone, as if Barton had any chance of seeing it. “These bastards are setting you up.”
“Who? Why?” Grace contributed, desperately confused. “What’s happening, Dad?”
“Explain,” Barton rumbled at Letty.
“Right now, the FTC have been led to believe the Dispenser has not resurfaced, and that you have been disrupting shit in the Sunken City. Playing on what we all know about you as a lunatic monster-baiter.”
“But –” Barton started to protest, but she carried on.
“They plan to kill you and make it look like Val did it, set that up alongside the Dispenser, and your intentions to use it. Completely discredit her.”
“Who’s Val?” Holly asked.
“The Fae governor,” Letty said. “Rolarn, Arnold, Lightgate, they want to fuck her over, they don’t give a shit about us – or the Sunken City.”
Barton brimmed with anger, fury preventing him from responding. That was for the best, because his ideas were bound to be stupid. Letty tried to think quick, her priority to keep these fools alive, to at least thwart that part of Lightgate’s plan. “I’ve got someone else who can hide you. You get away from here, keep safe – I’ll deal with this.”
“The hell you will,” Barton said. “If it’s my name they’re dragging through –”
“Look at the state of you!” Letty said. “You’re not doing shit.”
“He might not be able, but I can –” Holly started.
“You?” Letty almost laughed. “You realise you just swatted a vicious killer out of the air? That’s great and I love you for it but the Fae media is already focusing on human threats so you need to lay bloody low.”
“While you do what?”
Letty hesitated. She needed to face the other Fae before they realised they’d lost the Bartons, that was all. “Whatever Lightgate’s up to herself, she’ll have people coming here. I’ll deal with them, make sure they don’t follow you. You go to Nothicker, find the derelict sandwich shop on Dresden Street. Ask for Palleday and wait there.”
“You’re serious?” Barton said. “Walk into another Fae trap?”
“You got somewhere better to go?” Letty snapped, gesturing to Rimes. “Her place was hardly much better!”
“We’re in the east already,” Barton answered readily. “If we can get to Apothel’s game room – if it’s still there –”
“Because the Ministry won’t think of that? My people won’t think of that? You need to hide, not be in the most obvious bloody place imaginable!”
Barton went quiet. His wife looked at him uncertainly and cleared her throat. Letty turned on her, ready to argue another dumb lummox down. Holly said, “Your people lost us underground, before. You can’t go down there?”
Letty frowned. “You’re nuts, the Sunken City –”
“Not those tunnels. What about the Tube?”
Letty paused. “Not totally dumb, but hardly a long-term plan.”
“We can ride the Central line. It’s circular, and it’s not part of the monster network, is it?”
“The minotaur drains people down there,” Barton said. “It’d take energy –”
“It can’t drain every train, can it?” Holly said. “People survive the Tube every day. And surely tiredness is better than bullets and monsters?”
“Two trains dead,” said Rimes, shaking her head. “That big accident – it’s not safe –”
“After an accident?” Holly said. “Those drivers will be more focused than ever today. It’s the safest time to travel.” She looked at Letty for confirmation. “How long do you need?”
Letty eyed her, impressed by the woman’s willingness to put her family in harm’s way so soon after they’d survived the Sunken City. As a temporary solution, it was better than trying another potentially compromised hideout. If Pax was at the Ministry already, and she could deal with Lightgate’s people here, it might all be over soon enough. Letty said, “You keep moving. If you have to get off the train, do it far away from here. I’ll give you my number, keep me updated.”
“You can come with us,” Grace suggested.
“No, I can’t.”
“You have to,” the girl insisted, probably more afraid for them than for Letty.
“I can’t,” Letty replied, equally forceful. “Aside from not being fucking able to, I have shit to take care of. You’re all liabilities. Easy fucking targets. Now get the hell out of here and keep your heads down so I can deal with my people.”
6
Pax marvelled at how ugly the MEE’s building was. The unpainted block came from the era of architecture when angular concrete was deemed attractive in a way only council buildings and municipal courts aspired to. From the looks of the humourless people coming and going, it did a fine job of making life miserable. There was no obvious name or title to the block, besides the great brass number 14, and a stack of name-plates near the double-door entrance suggested the MEE shared the place.
Pax wondered if it was wise to stand close.
After hiding the scooter around a corner, she had scouted the area for a newsagent’s, hoping to revise the previous day’s news, but there was nothing within the closest few blocks. Curiosity had got the better of her as she questioned where this shady organisation operated from, and she doubted anyone was watching the building itself, not while they were chasing across the city for her.
“Not going in?”
“Jesus fuck!” Pax spun, fists raised at the empty air. A flutter of movement drew her eyes up. Lightgate settled onto a slight protrusion in the brickwork above Pax’s head. “I’m gonna hang a cowbell round your neck.”
“You’re waiting for Casaria?” Lightgate asked.
Pax followed her gesture to the Ministry building and answered sarcastically, “No, I’m hoping to get spotted. Where’ve you been?”
“Busy,” Lightgate said. “Good to see you didn’t waste time. How long will he be?”
“How would I know?”
“Best get him to hurry up.”
Odd remark. Pax paused, turning back to the fairy. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be anywhere near a Ministry property, should you?”
Lightgate held Pax’s gaze for a few ponderous moments, then finally answered, “I might have got lucky, and wanted to give you a courtesy call, in case you were still here.”
“What? Have you done something?”
The fairy gave a blameless one-shoulder shrug. “An opportunity presented itself.”
Fuck. Pax spun back to the MEE building. She concentrated, imagining the possibilities. Blown-out windows, a rain of rockets? The sewers, the trains, the tunnels, so many choices – and she felt it, then. Something down there. She closed her eyes, recalling her first conversation with Lightgate. The Fae charges under the building, that hidden monster, ready to burst up and savage the Ministry. Was the feeling imaginary, knowing something was down there because she’d been told so? The turnbold, as Lightgate called it – was it there, big, lurking – she winced. It tingled in her fingers and stung her chest, definitely feeling something, now she concentrated. In the direction of the building. She fixed a glare on the fairy. “You didn’t. You couldn’t have – you said –”
“I’d get your man out of there,” Lightgate said. “Quick as you can.”
“You have to stop it!” Pax raised her voice, surging towards the fairy, but Lightgate launched off her perch, out of reach before Pax got close.
She regarded Pax thoughtfully, circling overhead. “If I could stop it, why would I?”
“If you could?” Pax ans
wered. “It’s your plan!”
“Sure but I’m not activating those charges myself. Arnold’s boys are – it’s the least they could do after failing to hunt the codes. You know what happened? After my FTC contacts said no, and Arnold’s boys did their lame best to find another source, one of them found a note left for me. My name, two words: MEE Charges. Then a bunch of numbers. Anonymous – for all I know it might make the detonator explode.”
Pax gritted her teeth, watching the building again. “We discussed it. It’s a bad plan.”
“Oh, you’re just afraid of action. Don’t worry. It’ll be fun.”
Lightgate was grinning, and Pax saw there was no reasoning with her. The Fae was an unaccountable danger. Pax considered the scooter, back round the corner – the seat compartment, with the glo – it could help – but no, the glo was back in the shopping centre now. Increasingly desperate, she said, “There must be some way you can –”
Lightgate held up a hand for quiet, and for a moment Pax expected another belch, or worse. No, she just didn’t want to talk: “We’ll chat after this, okay?”
“For Christ’s sake!” Pax gaped. “If this happens, there’s no –”
“Let it go,” Lightgate said, firmly now. “I’m still keen to work with you. Don’t run in there trying to help your fellow humans. That would be a waste.”
Pax glowered, striving for something, anything to say. She darted across the road.
A wide desk created a barrier to the rest of the building, with two plastic turnstiles to one side. It was manned by a uniformed guard and led to a corridor of elevator doors. She could shout a bomb scare or something, but the guard would stall, questioning her or otherwise not taking it seriously. Her best bet was the fire alarm, get people moving without question. But the closest one was on the other side of the desk, near the lifts.
Pax scanned a hanging board of company names, gold on brown, some with logos. A couple of municipal departments, as she suspected, but companies, too. Klondike and Feather LLP, Burgher Logistics, even one she recognised, Warlowe Ltd, a name you saw on shipping containers bowling towards West Quay. The turnbold plan had been bad enough without Lightgate conveniently failing to mention so many innocent people shared the Ministry’s space.
The Ministry’s name sat at the bottom of the list, in discreetly small type. The Ministry of Environmental Energy. Floor 5/6. Pax opened her mouth to speak to the guard, but the ground spoke for her, a creak below them, like metal being dragged through a tunnel.
The guard smirked at Pax’s startled expression. He was young, spotty and skinny, with a nose too big for his face. He said, “Sewage works. Been noisy this morning. I guess they’re making sure everything’s up to standard after the mess yesterday.”
“They?” Pax replied. “What they?”
“Gas company?” he suggested.
It was that easy, wasn’t it? The Ministry under their very roof, and you had people assuming some anonymous gas company was doing anonymous work that explained away the weirdness. Pax eyed the fire alarm again. She needed a quick way in. “I’m hoping to surprise my friend, up on the fourth floor, to invite her for lunch?”
The guard raised a questioning eyebrow. “What’s her name?”
“Jenny,” Pax said, off the bat, playing the ditsy friend. She leant an elbow on the desk, thankful for her awful new clothes. “She tells boats and trucks where to go. Kind of?”
The idea was that he’d suggest a surname, but he didn’t bite. “Full name?”
“Jenny Talbot.” Common enough to sound real without being generic.
The guard’s face said he didn’t recognise it. Pax smiled encouragingly.
“Best if I buzz her down,” he said, hand going to his phone.
“That’d ruin the surprise!”
“Yeah.” He was staring, unsure what to do. He was young and spotty enough to want to please a random young woman, so searched his monitor for an answer that wouldn’t put his job at risk.
The ground shook. The monitor rattled and one of the guard’s pens rolled off the desk. He twisted to get it, muttering, “They’re really at it down there.”
“Yeah, and you’ve got a pretty tall building,” Pax stifled a nervous laugh. “I’d like to get up to her floor before the place collapses.”
His eyes were hard, not amused, but Pax kept smiling. He took a breath. “You’ve gotta sign in.” He tapped the guestbook and Pax scrambled to write any barely legible shit. He pressed a button and the barrier parted as he tried to make conversation, “It’s a – there’s a nice place you can go a few blocks down, if you like Mexican –”
“That’s perfect,” Pax beamed, racing past. “Thanks! You’ve made my day, hers too!”
“Or there’s a Nando’s!” he called out, more enthusiastic. She pressed the call button as he watched her. Fuck, if she pulled the fire alarm now he’d cancel it before anyone so much as left their chairs.
The lift arrived and she had to enter. She’d go up to 1 and pull the alarm there. The doors closed, with the guard calling out another helpful flirt, and Pax frowned at the numbers on the panel as she realised she’d hit 5 without thinking. As the lift rose she looked up. Her hand hovered over the panel, ready to press another number, but a sense that there was something up there made her hesitate.
This feeling was getting stranger, her fingers tingling again, chest warming. But it was different this time. She wasn’t sensing something below her. It was above, where she was heading, it was there. Had Lightgate got something else in the building? Or was it Rufaizu? Perhaps she could sense where he was. Or Casaria? Had she developed a useful psychic link?
It burned stronger as she rose higher, coupled with a desire to see what was there, and in the distraction she almost forgot why she’d come. She’d be at the top of the building when Lightgate struck. She’d be stepping into the Ministry’s offices, for fuck’s sake, what was she thinking –
The lift pinged as it reached the fifth floor and Pax froze.
The doors slowly opened onto a long, empty corridor. No people. Just the burning feeling that there was something waiting for her behind one of these doors. And, equally important, there was the friendly red box of a fire alarm, halfway down the hall.
7
Casaria was mad.
It had always been obvious he was a little unhinged, lacking social skills and operating to an odd personal code. But he was actually mad. It was all that Sam could think as he advanced on her. She landed heavily on a chair, rocking it onto two legs, too stunned to resist. But he’d already stopped, muttering to himself, looking away, “You’re useless – wretched – never understood.”
His fists clenched, and his eyes, aflame, rolled back towards her.
She should never have come down here without an escort. She’d been distracted. Bewitched by resolving everything that was going on, forgetting who she was dealing with. Wherever he’d been, he was still Casaria.
He stepped towards her and she curled up into the chair, saying, “Let me help you!”
A flicker of doubt in his face.
“You don’t have to do this – ” Sam urged.
“The MEE’s a mess,” Casaria said, voice quavering. “You are the MEE.”
“So are you!”
“No. My eyes are open. At last. And you –”
“Don’t,” Sam said. “Please. Don’t.”
He smiled. Sadistic, even as his eyes vibrated with uncertainty. He’d act in spite of his confusion. Because of it. He had no idea how to handle his emotions, except this – violence – anger – Sam held up a defensive hand. “You’re a good man, Cano – I understand –”
Wrong choice. His hand came at her from the side, not quite a punch but hard enough to knock her off the seat. She tried to push herself up onto her hands and knees.
“You don’t understand shit,” he hissed, by her ear.
“I – I –” Sam blinked into the carpet.
“You were never anything but a –”
He was cut off by the piercing whine of the fire alarm.
Casaria stood. “The hell?”
Sam crawled clear of him as the sound escalated, the unbearably loud chime drilling at the pain in her head.
“Stay here,” Casaria snarled, and stormed away. The door slammed behind him.
Have to move. Get out before he comes back.
Sam pulled herself up using the edge of the bed and reached for another support. She found the pole of a drip stand, with its thin metal limbs and a base of wheeled legs. Leaning on it, she wobbled to the door. Casaria was saying something on the other side. Someone was out there. He’d persuade them to leave – everyone would evacuate – leaving her –
The room shook, making Sam falter. Then the screaming started below. Still dazed from his blow, she didn’t know what was real – was it her fear bouncing back at her? The world was falling apart – she had to move. Sam gathered up the drip and charged. She screamed herself as she burst through the door. Using both hands and all her weight, she rammed the end of the drip into Casaria’s head, sending him flying into the opposite door. The wood cracked as he slumped down, lifting his face stupidly towards her. Sam kept screaming, raising the drip over him.
“Stop, you fucking psycho!” a female voice cried into her ear, arms wrapping around her chest and pulling her back. Sam bucked, struggling to get free, but the interruption jolted the madness from her. The drip clattered away.
The other woman wrestled her back against a wall, pushing her weight onto her even after she’d stopped struggling. Sam cried, “He wanted to kill me – wanted to kill me –”
“He wanted your help!” the woman shouted, and Sam recognised the voice. She raised her hands to show Pax she was calm. Pax stared back with madly wide eyes.
“What – you?” Another siren chime refreshed the pain in Sam’s head. “You set off the alarm?”
The Sunken City Trilogy Page 57
