The City of Monsters

by Matthew McCollum

He was saying something. Katherine could hear him, but she didn't care enough to understand. Would he know the missing parts of the song? Maybe... maybe that's what he was saying. Maybe he was trying to tell her about the song.

  With regret, she pushed the music to the back of her mind and concentrated on his voice. She still tried to sing, still tried to show everyone around her how beautiful it was, but it was more an unconscious action than anything else. It was no different than twiddling your thumbs.

  “She hasn't tried to transform?” he asked someone Katherine couldn't see.

  She heard another voice. “No. That's not that odd. A number of the captured screamers don't use their powers unless threatened. They seem to vary between aggressive and merely defensive. Luckily, she is defensive.”

  It was Doctor Isaac Clarke's voice. That distinct, breathy excitement, like everything was the most important thing in the world... it was unmistakable.

  Derek looked at her closer. “Is it just me, or is she thrashing less?”

  “The defensive ones are smarter. She probably realized she couldn't escape, and decided to conserve energy. Henry, get the clamps.”

  A large man came into Katherine's vision, and she felt cold metal bands around her arms. She heard the sound of a power screwdriver, fastening her to the steel slab she was laying on.

  “I doubt that will keep her contained if she transforms,” Laura's voice said.

  “We don't know enough about this power,” Clarke said. “She might not be able to wriggle out of this. Either way, we'll get her in a cage as soon as possible.”

  “Shouldn't you be resting?” Ling asked from Katherine's left side, with a slight lisp. She noted blearily that she seemed to be missing a few teeth. The toy maker would fix that soon enough. She was looking at Derek. “You lost a lot of blood.”

  “I'll be fine.”

  “We can handle this,” Kelly said from behind. Katherine couldn't see her, but she could feel her shadow. “Go to sleep.”

  He sighed. “Okay, okay.” He pointed at Ling and Akane. “But you both need to get some attention too. You guys got banged up pretty bad.”

  They both left without another word, and Katherine found herself singing louder again. Derek was clever. He would know the missing parts. She should have asked him when she had the chance.

  The others were talking, but she wasn't interested. She had to share the song. They couldn't hear me. What could she do?

  Change.

  That would be a good idea. But why hadn't she thought of it before?

  Change.

  It wasn't her thought. It took her a moment to parse it, but it was an alien word, reverberating under the song. She knew she shouldn't listen to it. She was cautious by nature, and a sourceless voice in her brain wasn't going to convince her of anything.

  Change.

  She changed.

  It was a strange feeling, one that was difficult to describe. As her body dissolved into black smoke, she felt as though she had slipped into a cool pool of water. All her sensations disappeared, leaving behind nothingness. She couldn't see or hear or feel. It wasn't particularly unpleasant, but it wasn't quite enjoyable either. It simply was.

  But it faded quickly, as the smoke re-coalesced in a new shape.

  She was smaller now, out of the restraints, and all the color had bled from the environment. She flapped her wings and flew off the table, fluttering past a shocked Akane.

  Katherine could feel... something. Some energy, some power source in her gut draining fast. She needed to escape, to share the song, before it emptied completely.

  But she was trapped in a room, a small lab with locked doors. There was nowhere to run to.

  Her reservoir depleted while she was circling one of the dim lights in the ceiling, and she instantly reverted to her original form. She landed on the floor easily. She had always had good reflexes, even before she became a fel.

  Katherine looked at her friends and the doctor, clustered around the table she had just fled. They eyed her warily.

  Kill.

  Now, hold on, she thought. Why would I want to do that? These were her friends, and even if Clarke was annoying, he hardly deserved to die. The thing with Akane was probably just a misunderstanding. Besides, she just wanted to share the song. They could hardly fill in the blanks if they were dead.

  Kill.

  No, she didn't think so. Instead, she backed slowly into the corner of the room, keeping an eye on her friends. They weren't armed, except for Akane, but they were still dangerous if they decided to attack for some reason.

  Kill.

  No. She wouldn't. Not now.

  As soon as she thought that, she felt a sense of freedom. The song eased in her mind, and she began to think more clearly. She quickly realized the implications.

  She had thrown off the compulsion! If she could do it, so could others. It wouldn't be easy, but with patience they could cure everyone. They just had to give them something to fight for, a reason to push aside the song.

  Then her body lunged forward.

  She tried to stop. She mentally hit the brakes as hard as she could, but nothing happened.

  It wasn't under her control any more. It was like her body belonged to someone else entirely. Katherine could only watch as she attacked her friends, and Akane slashed at her legs, trying to immobilize her as quickly as possible.

  Now it made sense. If throwing off the song was truly so easy, Katherine wouldn't have been the first one. No, the “defensive” screamers were simply those who had been completely seduced by the song, and retained some semblance of intelligence behind it. The “aggressive” ones, the far more common variety, were those who tried to fight the compulsions, and were rendered prisoners in their own bodies because of it.

  Collaborator or slave. No choice at all, really.

  The lights suddenly flashed, and Katherine felt pain through her nighteyes. Her body stumbled back, dazed. Before it could recover, Akane hit it hard in the center of the forehead with the hilt of her sword.

  Unconsciousness swept over Katherine like a warm blanket.

  Chapter 37: LUCTUS

  KELLY

  “She's not dead,” Jarasax said sullenly.

  Kelly didn't stop passing out the drinks. “Yes she is. The fact that her body is still running around is irrelevant.”

  George took his mug with a nod. “The boss is right and you know it. We have to accept that she's gone and move on. Nothing else for it.”

  Alex held up his glass. “To Katherine. Best sniper I ever met. First to fall to the screamers.”

  “To Kat,” everyone muttered, as they clinked their glasses together and drank.

  Everyone got used to death pretty quick in Domina. Kelly was actually the fourth child her parents had, but all three of her older brothers had died by the time she had reached grade school. Her younger brother was sent away before he could meet the same fate. It only got worse if you decided to join a subculture or Necessarius. Kat was hardly the first friend Kelly had lost since deciding to follow Butler.

  “Kelly?” Sax said gently. “You all right there?”

  She shook her head to clear out the cobwebs. “Yeah, I'm just... did Kat have any family?”

  “No,” Alex said as he sipped his drink. I noticed that he had the exact same haunted look in his eyes that I did. “Orphan, and her matron is dead. Her file said she was always a loner, so I doubt we're going to have anyone calling to reclaim her things.”

  Kelly rubbed her forehead. “Yeah... that sounds about right.” Sounded like pretty much every 'sarian she had ever spoken to, actually. “She have an apartment or something?”

  “Something like that,” someone said. They all turned to see a massive giant guarding the door not three feet away from our table. He was a Thor, if the hammer tattooed on his bicep was any indicator. When they all just stared at him, he shrugged. “You're talking about Kat Lisbon, the fel anthro, right? She had a room upstairs.”

  Kelly glanced s
ideways at Alex. “Is that why you picked this bar?”

  He grinned as he took another sip, but didn't say anything.

  She sighed and turned back to the bouncer. “Could you take us there? She was involved in some sensitive things, and we need to make sure nothing, you know... gets out.” With their luck, she'd have a journal explaining in full detail everything she had done for Necessarius ever since she joined, and some smug Satanist or Nessian would find it.

  He shrugged. “Sure. It's a bit slow right now.” He turned to the bartender. “I'll be right back.”

  The Thor led them upstairs without another word, and they had to scramble to catch up. He obviously wasn't the type to wait around, but some warning would have been nice.

  “Watch your step,” he said as we stepped onto the third floor. “There was a spill here earlier.” He gave the yellow wet floor sign a wide berth.

  “Oh, yeah, sorry about that,” a sweet female voice called from down the corridor. “Dropped some raspberry juice.”

  Kelly turned to see Elizabeth Greene striding forward, her golden eyes nearly glowing in the dark, her smile wide and guileless.

  They hadn't officially met, but the retinue had glanced through her file when they found out she was a known associate of the Paladins. There wasn't much information. She was a voice actress, and she had lots of friends. That was about it. No one really cared enough to write more.

  “Miss Greene,” Kelly said politely. “Hello there. I didn't realize you would be here.”

  She quirked her head. “I'm sorry, have we met?”

  Kelly held out her hand to shake. “My mistake. I'm a friend of Derek's. He speaks quite highly of you, and he has a few pictures. I'm Kelly.”

  The girl shook her hand with a surprisingly firm grip. “Well, Miss Kelly, don't let me stop you from...” She waved her free hand. “Whatever it is you're doing.” She turned to the giant escorting them. “Hammie, getur þú sagt mér hvenær Nabassu fær hér? Hann þarf að hjálpa mér við eitthvað.”

  “Auðvitað, Lizzy,” he said smoothly. “Ég hringi í þig.”

  Lizzy grinned. “Takk.” She released Kelly's hand and headed downstairs. “See you all later.”

  Once she was gone, George shook his head. “That girl is too trusting for her own good.”

  The Thor raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

  George barked out a laugh. “Well, she trusts you, for one.”

  Kelly ignored the giants. She was sure there was some amusing story about how the two met, nearly killed each other, and became friends, but she was hardly in the mood for it. She just wanted to get this over with.

  “This it?” she asked when she found the door that looked right. It had a two-dimensional kitten face carved from wood nailed under the peephole, so she figured it was a pretty good guess.

  The bouncer nodded. “Yeah. Just give me a second.” He fumbled with a massive key chain at his belt, and eventually selected one labeled 303. It fit the keyhole, and the door swung open with the soft grind of mostly-oiled hinges.

  Kelly wasn't sure what she was expecting, but Kat's room turned out to be as Spartan as her sniper reputation would suggest. The room itself was pretty small, maybe ten by ten feet, including the big walled-off chunk to the right, behind a door which presumably hid the bathroom. In fact, the room seemed a bit bigger than most hotel rooms, likely because Kat had removed the bed and replaced it with a small bedroll in the corner, next to the sliding glass door to the balcony.

  Kelly brushed her hair back. “Alex, it's your show.”

  “Right,” he said. He clapped his hands together. It had been a while since he really got to put his tracker skills to use. “Normally, I'd put George to work on the beds, but we don't seem to have to worry about that.” He pointed to a heavy-looking dresser, maybe four feet tall. It was probably where the TV usually went, but there wasn't one. “Go through that, see what you find. Ignore the clothes. Sax, check the balcony and the bed area. Kelly, I think you and I should be in charge of the bathroom. We—”

  “Alex,” Jarasax said, tone warning. “This isn't a smash and grab, or a search. Just... take it slow.”

  Alex held up his hands. “Sorry. Just forgot for a second there. Be careful, everyone.”

  Kelly sighed and walked into the bathroom. It was only slightly more luxurious than the rest of the place, probably because Kat hadn't figured out how to remove the small bathtub in the corner. But other than a single extra-large bottle of shampoo, there was nothing. No perfumes or bath salts or scented candles.

  She really should have expected as much.

  “Hey guys,” George called from the other room. “Take a look at this.”

  She strode out of the bathroom, pushing past their escort still guarding the door to the apartment. George had flipped the dresser bottoms-up.

  Kelly sighed. “George, didn't you hear Sax? Don't treat this as a raid.”

  “I'm not. But there's writing and stuff too, and this was the easiest way to read it.”

  She rubbed her forehead and stepped forward to take a closer look. He was right. There was some sort of strange writing in an alphabet she didn't recognize carved directly into the thin wood making the bottom of the dresser.

  “I found something too,” Sax said, holding up a small white letter envelope. “Under the cot.” Kelly plucked it out of his hand and opened it.

  It had a small single-use flash drive inside, the kind used to store viruses. Well, they had originally been designed to help protect copyright, letting customers download the data once before burning out, but it had taken all of thirty seconds for hackers to find a better use for it.

  Kelly held it up, frowning. It was unlabeled. “Sax, did Kat have anything to do with hacking? Better yet, did you give this to her?”

  “No on both counts,” he said. “She was on friendly terms with a few other Blood-Doused Hunters, but I don't remember anyone ever mentioning her needing help with hacking.” He scratched his chin. “She did ask someone to fix her tablet one time, though.”

  “Who helped her? Maybe they know what this is.”

  “Nemeni, I think.”

  The Thor choked. “Nemeni? As in the warlord of the Blood-Doused Hunters?”

  Jarasax ground his teeth. “We are not a culture, Thor. We don't have warlords. Dame Nemeni is our leader, but—”

  The Thor waved his hand. “Yes, yes, no one cares. What was the Paragon of the clan doing with the friend of a low-ranking traitor?”

  Said low-ranking traitor spoke up. “Unlike the cultures, changelings are not kicked out if we join Necessarius. Nemeni is actually very supportive—”

  “Wait,” Kelly said. “Paragon. What's that?”

  The Thor blinked. “Oh, sorry, I assumed you knew. It's a new meme going around. The title for baseline warlords. Pretty much just Butler and the changelings, but I guess whoever is in charge of the Paladins would get called that too.” He scratched his chin. “Speaking of, Honored Paladin is catching on for baselines in general.”

  “Can we focus here?” George asked in exasperation, as if he hadn't been the one to cause the derail. “I still don't understand what's written here.”

  “The big guy is right,” Alex said, slapping George on the back. “The burn drive is probably just a virus she bought for an emergency. Jarasax can ask Dame Nemeni if anyone really cares.” He leaned forward, squeezing his head between me and George to get a better look at the bottom of the dresser. “What's really interesting is all this.”

  Jarasax looked at it a little sideways. “It's Gaelic. I think.”

  Kelly nodded. “That makes sense.”

  He chuckled. “Not really. No one uses it. Haven't for...” He whistled. “Centuries, probably. Now, they just use a modified Latin alphabet like everyone else.”

  Kelly brushed her hand through her hair. “Of course. So you can't read it?”

  “Well...” He leaned forward. “I can make out bits and pieces. But my Irish isn't tha
t good in the first place, and add in the Gaelic on top, it may as well be chickenscratch.” He straightened up and shook his head. “Gonna need a real translator for this.”

  “Well, that's easy enough,” the Thor said. Kelly turned to see him grinning. “Lizzy!” he called. “Þú getur komið í núna.”

  Lizzy might normally look like a bronze-skinned Amazon, but next to the giant she just looked like a skinny child. She glared at him. “Hvernig vissirðu að ég var þarna?”

  “You breath loudly,” he said, using English for the benefit of the rest of them. “So you hear everything?”

  She brushed her hair back and managed to smile. “Of course. I'd be more than happy to help.”

  Kelly raised an eyebrow. “You can read Gaelic?”

  “It's not really that difficult,” she said. “The alphabet is mostly the same, just different shapes.”

  Alex moved aside to let her in. “That can be said of every language, Miss Greene.”

  She grinned at the angel. “And now you know why I'm so good with them.”

  Kelly adjusted her daygoggles. “Just... tell us what it says.”

  “Well...” She leaned in to take a closer look. Then she frowned. “That's interesting. It's a poem.”

  This was getting weird. “Why would she carve a Gaelic poem into the bottom of her dresser?”

  But Lizzy shook her head. “No, no... it's a poem in English. Properly translated, it rhymes in a simple A-B-A-B sequence.” She tapped one of the words. “There are a few lines that don't rhyme, but I can't tell if that's because she chose some weird translation, or if it was intentional.”

  “It's a code, then,” George said.

  Jarasax rolled his eyes. “Obviously. Probably for me or Kelly. What's it say?”

  Lizzy shrugged. “It starts with 'Steel and snow—'”

  “Stop,” Kelly said suddenly. The solution had just come to her. “Stop. The poem is a red herring. It's not important.”

  Lizzy raised an eyebrow. “I don't know, this is a lot of effort to confuse whoever is trying to read this. Who would care?”

  Kelly shook her. “It doesn't matter. The point is what Sax said—It's for us, and we don't speak Irish.” Kelly tapped the very first word, in the top left corner. “What is this? In Irish, I mean?”