The Emperor

by N. M. Brown

  Jumping out of his skin, McQueen spun around, once again forgot to look to his feet. The suspects he was hunting down here were smaller than he was used to after all. “I-... uh.” McQueen stumbled as he was at a sudden loss.

  The little girl before him had the softest looking platinum hair, the bluest eyes that could have been full of stars, while her pale skin almost glowed in the dark halls and McQueen was surprised by how clean she was. Her dress was two sizes too big for her; hanging off her frame, while the silver, shiny material had dulled over time. Looking to be around seven years old, she was by far the best dressed child he had seen, and spoke in full, fluent sentences which was what surprised him the most.

  “You’re that big, bad Elder, aren’t you?” The little girl said, watching him through big eyes. “I’ve never seen an Elder before.”

  Blinking back to reality, McQueen smiled encouragingly dipping to his knees and his back thanked him. “Well, I’m a nice Elder.” He promised. “What’s your name?”

  “Angie. She called me Angie, said it’s a nickname.”

  Opening his mouth to speak, McQueen was going to try some kind of alliance, or at least get her to like him, but stopped when she slipped a hand from her dress pocket, pulling a shiny blue sweet along with it. She rolled into between her fingers, the sound of the wax creasing audible to his ears and her gaze remained locked onto it. Alone with an outsider – one who was big and bad - Angie was consumed by the sweet in her hands, oblivious to any danger she could have been in. It was in that moment, that McQueen came to a full understand of what the Dixie sweets did to its junkies: total and utter oblivion.

  “What have you got there?” McQueen breathed, his eyes trained to the sweet, thought he knew perfectly well what it was.

  “It’s mine!” Angie suddenly snarled, taking two steps away and clutched the Dixie to her chest. In a heartbeat she had become a feral rat, curling protectively around her prize; watching him through beady, untrusting eyes.

  McQueen felt his heart sink as he saw one more junkie protecting their hoard. “Yes.” He agreed once again holding his hand out, palms up in peace. “It’s all yours Angie. All yours.”

  Slowly she slid back towards him, popping the Dixie between her lips and sucking it down like a deserted girl had found fresh water. In those few short moments, McQueen studied Angie’s as her whole demeanour changed and the effects of Dixie were displayed right in front of his eyes.

  After only a minute, Angie’s shoulders dipped, and her arms hung limp be her sides. Her facial expressions dropped, a dopy smile curling across her face, while her pupils exploded. It truly was the ugly half-brother of cocaine: euphoria, mixed mood-swings, restlessness and to make it worse, all in a child.

  Taking, a hesitant step forward, McQueen made sure he made no threatening movements, but really, he didn’t think Angie would’ve even noticed. “Hay, you couldn’t tell me where you get that from, could you?” He asked, smiling at her. “I think I might like to try some?”

  “Why, you gonna to steal mine?” She asked suspiciously, even in her drugged state, ready to protect her stash. “You can’t have it. I’ll gouge your eyes out filthy Elder!” She growled, and McQueen quickly decided that Dixie wasn’t a good choice for conversation.

  “No. No I do not want that. Never mind.” He said, feeling un-nerved by her erratic mood swings. Instead, he decided to try a different angled approach. “So, who taught you to speak so well, Angie?”

  A whimsical smile drifted across Angie’s face, while her arms had begun to swing across her body as she swayed from one foot to the other. “My mistress, silly. She was ever so kind.”

  “Was kind?” McQueen asked, watching her sparkle with every movement.

  “Yes, was. She was so kind, and she told me stories and was so good to us.” She said dreamily before she prance on the spot, dancing to music he couldn’t hear.

  “And who was she? Did she have a nickname like you?”

  “My mistress... she was my mistress.” Angie laughed with a shrug, as if it were silly McQueen didn’t know of who she spoke.

  “And why did your mistress leave?” McQueen asked, slowly pieceing what he could together.

  Stopping in her stride, Angie tilted her head at McQueen, a quizzical look on her face. “I don’t know why she left. She never said goodbye…” Tears sprung in Angie’s eyes. “Our King wasn’t happy when she left. My new mistress couldn’t even calm him.”

  “Who’s your new mistress?” McQueen asked.

  “I’ll take you Elder.” The dancing Angie smiled, grasping his hand, dipping and twirling under his arm, before pulling back down the tunnel.

  McQueen wondered if it could be a trap; that this might be the last time he’d get a chance at escape. As far as Shade was concerned, he and Echo weren’t going to make it out of there alive and as more time passed, McQueen started to think the same.

  ◆◆◆

  McQueen tried to keep track of where they were going, but all he ended up being was turned around. He felt like Angie hadn’t brought them far from where they’d met – they’re taken a lot long, ninety-degree bends, but everything looked the same and nothing was distinctive.

  Angie didn’t speak as they travelled, instead dancing as she moved. She was a bright, innocent light in all this darkness and despair and McQueen wondered who’s daughter she was; did her family still look for her? McQueen hoped not. If they did, they only held on with false hope because the daughter they remembered wasn’t coming back to them.

  After a few more minutes Angie slowed, and McQueen found himself outside a very large, curved entrance. The paths they had taken had slopped upwards and McQueen was positively warm. The earth around him no longer held that damp, stagnant smell and the hard, unforgiving rock under foot had returned to the soft sands.

  Letting go of his hand Angie, dashed ahead and through the gauzy material that floated softly closed behind her which wasn’t nearly as grimy as the fabric to his and Echo’s hole. Clean meant power, so with hesitant steps, McQueen entered the hovel anticipating that these might be his last living moments.

  Yet, McQueen was taken aback by what he found. Stepping down into a pit, he found himself in a spacious dug-out room, large and round with plenty of head space, so much so he no longer had to stoop. Instead of bare candles dotting the room, clusters of glass shards in all shapes and colours hung around tiny flames, making the place dance with beauty. Rugs and pillows littered the floor and McQueen would have compared it to a Turkish retreat if it had a view.

  Eyes darting, McQueen watched Angie twirl across the floor until she collapsed next to a familiar face, her tiny body exhausted from her recital. Tigress, Queen of the Under-ert sat on the mound of pillows, her pose regal and relaxed with her legs neatly tucked under herself. The only thing spoiling the image was her ugly green pallor and the bucket held up to her face. Darting out a hand, she wiped at the corner of her lips and pushed a frail looking Murmur Maid away. The poor child tripped over a cushion and fell onto her behind, but with luck didn’t spill the bucket she’d been carrying.

  With a sneer and a growl that captured her lips, Tigress glared at McQueen, but her words were directed at Angie. “Evangeline? You brought a guest?” There was such softness in her voice, but Angie couldn’t see the rigid steel in her eyes.

  Evangeline, giggled curling like a puppy at Tigress’s feet. “He wanted to meet you mistress.” Sighing happily, she closed her eyes as Tigress absently dragged her fingers gently through her soft, clean hair. “You were right. He’s a nosy Elder, slipped out their hole like rats.”

  Tigress hummed, keeping her eye locked with McQueen as a cold shiver went down his spine. So, it was a trap and he’d walked right into it.

  “Was the other with him? The girl?”

  McQueen bit his tongue as Angie snuggled down further. “No. She wasn’t. I saw her in the Murmur Maid branches, but she disappeared.” McQueen held his sigh of relief. Echo wasn’t high on his list of people he
cared about, but if she wasn’t here with him, she was finding their exit.

  “With the Murmur Maids… how interesting.” Tigress mused and continued to stroke Angie’s hair.

  “How old are you Tigress?” McQueen blurted, trying to distract her.

  She looked young; maybe fourteen, fifteen, but she could be older. Poor nutrition, lacking hydration or any other number of reasons could stunt a children’s growth. In the low light, her strong features where highlighted and McQueen wondered if Tigress looked at all like her mother, or did she have her father’s jaw line? He would guess Tigress – which he didn’t think was her real name – had been living down here for years. Almost a teen, it would have been close to her entire life.

  “I am un-age-able, like Shade.” Tigress said stiffly. “But you didn’t come down this far to ask me that.” She looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Where is your friend going?”

  “I wouldn’t call her a friend.” McQueen said gruffly, but that wasn’t the right answer.

  Making two odd sounds in the back of her throat, two older boys stepped into the room from nowhere but McQueen couldn’t remember passing them when he entered and it unnerved him. Tossing her head to McQueen, Tigress smiled wickedly.

  A solitary word, similar to ‘hunt’ mixed with a growl and like that, the two boys were off like a shot. McQueen sent a quick prayer that Echo was on her toes. “Sit.” Tigress ordered as he turned back to face her.

  Gingerly, he did as he was asked, feeling his knees complain the whole way down. It wasn’t that he was old, but he’d been stooped or crouched since he’d arrived, and the lack of room was getting to him. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but it was starting to feel like that. Sat crossed legged on the floor, he watched Tigress who watched him in return. It was a power struggle and McQueen knew it would need to be him who would cave first.

  “So, you are ageless, like Shade?” He asked, though he still didn’t believe it. “That must make you very respected here. You must have everyone looking up to you and I would expect you knew everyone?”

  “I make it a job of mine to know who is who.” Tigress smiled with pride, pleased with the power she held over everyone. “Shade has put great trust in me. I am his shadow. His other half.”

  “And was that always your position?”

  Tigress stiffened but tried to cover by answering quickly. “Always.”

  “That’s good, so you would know a girl, Wendell? She was about your age, blonde, pretty, blue dress… pregnant?” McQueen asked in one, as if it were a gentle topic of conversation. Yet, just as he expected Tigress froze like a dear in head lights, her jaw clenching so hard McQueen thought she might bite her tongue off.

  “Wendall…?” Tigress mused, containing herself. “Yes, of course. She was one of us once, but the upper lands tainted her. She was banished as would any of our kin who betrayed our King.” She explain but diverted her eyes.

  If she had been an adult at the station, McQueen would have laid into her more upon seeing her guilt. But she was after all, just a teen and the art a subterfuge wasn’t a practiced skill. Yet, McQueen’s problem was, they weren’t at the station. He very much wasn’t a Detective and she was very much not just any old teen.

  “Mis-mistress…?” A wobbly voice rose from Angie’s lips as her cloudy eyes scanned the room.

  “Hush now my Starlight.” Tigress urged. “I’m here.”

  “But I thought I heard her name; my mistress… Is she coming back? I do miss her.” Angie started, but Tigress was a little more forceful with her hands and Angie quickly lowered her head back into the lap of her new Mistress.

  “I know my starlight. We all do.” She whispered again and levelled a hardened gaze at McQueen. “Wendell was our sister and we are all still sad about her banishment. But she was a traitor, our King said so.”

  “So, you don’t know who killed her?” McQueen asked hoping to strike at that raw sadness while it was fresh. But Tigress didn’t flinch at the news of her sister’s death. In fact, she didn’t even blink, like she might have already known…

  “No. Is this why you’re here?” Tigress asked. “It’s an honour to die here Lawman. Between death and life in the Upperlands, many choose death.”

  “And why is that?” McQueen asked, hiding his revulsion. “Why die? Why live here in filth and dirt? Why starve when you could have a full meal and a soft bed to sleep in up there?”

  “You could never understand.” Tigress answered, but McQueen could have sworn her saw longing in her eyes, as if she was slightly tempted by such things. “Anyone banished no longer recieves our Kings gift. We do not die here, as long as our Kings is happy.”

  “You can’t believe that?” McQueen found himself suddenly exclaiming. It was a ludicrous notion. “Wendell died! Red-, our guide had her throat cut! That girl who was pushed into the fire will die! How can you think you are all unkillable?” They couldn’t honestly believe they would all live forever, could they? Even Echo believed in Shade’s immortality and yet death was a common occurrence every day down here.

  “And each of them made our King angry. Their lives became the price. You are just a stupid Elder, you wouldn’t-,” Suddenly, without warning Tigress’s face paled again and her childish features becoming haggard.

  Flicking her fingers, a worn lump suddenly moved from the shadows of the room and it made McQueen jump.

  The lump hadn’t been a pillow like he’d first thought, but a Murmur Maid curled in a bow. Her dress hung from her body and her eyes, like every other were gone leaving deep, blackened holes. Scampering across the room, her fingertips graced across the floor, feeling for trip hazards as she approached her Queen with another bucket in tow.

  “She was weak.” Tigress answered through her pale complextion. “She fell for the ways of the Elders and for that, she was no longer one of us. We are our own family; better than anything in the Upperlands.” she sneered and shook her head. The Maid pushed the bucket close, but with a soft hand, Tigress pushed it away, her pallor returning

  McQueen could only shiver at the coldness that flared in her eyes and he remembered what kind of children he sat amongst. Survivors. Fighters. Animals.

  But still he hoped there was something still inside of them, something worth saving. “Better than a warm bed? To not have to fight for every meal or be drugged to stay?” McQueen asked. “Your family misses you; I know they do. Every child down here has a real family waiting for them and yet you all hide down here, waiting to die.” He said in a soft voice.

  But Tigress just laughed, as she focused on McQueen, looking down in pity. “Why would an Elder, care for us? We are burdens until we are trained to succeed where our Elders failed. We all came and found our own families where we are free.”

  McQueen noted how her words changed in that moment; from that of a child to that of a sermon. Those weren’t her words, they were Shade’s and like a good little cultist, she was repeating them. McQueen almost couldn’t bare to listen to more, but Tigress continued.

  “I know our people, so only the strong can stay. Some were chased by Elders, attacked and hurt for no reason. Angie was sold to a pig, who wanted to do nasty things with her, but instead she run here where she was safe.” Reaching out a tender hand, Tigress ran her fingers through the little girls’ soft hair, tracing her unmarked face. “We are the only family we need down here, so, don’t claim you know better Elder.”

  McQueen could believe children were beaten, and he could even believe Angie was sold to a paedophile, but not everyone down here was like that.

  “Mitch and Johnny didn’t need sanctuary. They were in a loving home with loving parents who are looking for them even as we speak.” McQueen argued, knowing he would make time to find the boys. He wouldn’t leave them behind.

  “Lies.” Tigress snapped “Every family is broken. No parent loves equally. We are better off free than trapped in a cage, unable to fly.” Tigress’s spouted, more words straight from Shade’s mouth, his rants clearly st
icking with her.