by Icy Sedgwick
“When will they take over the library?”
“So far they have been content to restrict themselves to simply changing the insignia, and bandy about talk of what they will do. We have placed strong wards on particular spaces of power, so they will not find it easy to access the archives. Indeed, they could not find the door to the underground vaults, hidden as it was, which is how my mistress kept you out of sight,” replied Validus. “They took her from this very hall, but her spells were already in place.”
“I’ve got a plan.”
“Really.” The Wolfkin couldn’t purse his lips or raise his eyebrows, but Jyx sensed both movements in his tone of voice.
“Yes, really. It’s something I definitely know how to do, but I need you to distract them so they’re not looking at me.”
“No. There must be some other way.”
Across the atrium, Ptem threw open the front doors. Both of the guards turned to face him. They gesticulated at the Wolfkin, shouting orders at him, but he ignored them. Jyx seized his chance. He darted out into the hall, careful to keep himself directly behind the guards. He paused several feet away. The light pouring in the doors cast long shadows behind them. Jyx stared at marble floor and visualised a glowing red net of energy.
“Misit hoc rete, misit fortis, capere umbra, eam mea,” he whispered.
The scarlet strands of power pulsed as they settled across the stones. The net snapped shut on both of the shadows, humming as it earthed itself. The guards cried out but slumped to the floor before they could turn around. The shadows rippled across the floor.
“No, no, you’re not standing up. You don’t need to,” said Jyx.
The shadows lay still.
“You don’t know what’s happened to you, do you?”
The shadows shook in reply. Jyx took that as a no.
“You set off one of Eufame’s defences, that’s all. In about an hour’s time, you’ll wake up and all will be well, but you won’t tell anyone what happened because you’ll be too embarrassed to admit you weren’t paying attention.”
The shadows rippled in agreement.
“Good. I am the spirit of the hallway, and I shall leave you to sleep now.” Jyx didn’t know where the words came from, but they made sense as he spoke them. He glanced over his shoulder. Validus nodded his approval from the archway.
The shadows dulled to a faint stain on the floor. Hitching snores escaped from the guards. Validus left the doorway and crossed the atrium. He picked up the bottle of midnight wine, handing it to Ptem.
“See that is disposed of,” he said.
* * *
They slipped outside into the early evening light and crouched behind a statue in the courtyard. No trace remained of the epic battle that had taken place between Eufame and Neferpenthe, the former necromancer who had raised an army of bloodthirsty mummies from the dead royals intended for the coronation parade. Coaches bearing the insignia of the council stood around in the courtyard. Two guards sat nearby, smoking and playing cards.
“We need to get through the archway. The horses will be waiting for us,” said Validus.
“Won’t they see us?” Jyx pointed at the guards.
“Indeed they will, though I fear your Shadow magick will not help us here. Can you throw sound?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never tried.”
Validus wriggled forward so that his muzzle was level with the edge of the statue. “I need you to throw my howl.”
“How?”
“You will have to figure that out yourself.”
A moment later, Validus opened his mouth. The howl formed in front of him, a smoky breath hanging in the cool air. Without thinking, Jyx scribbled a sigil with his finger.
“Tolle hoc et illud, et ululate volant!”
A gust of wind caught the howl and launched it across the courtyard. It shattered against the far wall, sending shards flying in all directions. Finally released, the long, undulating notes came from everywhere and nowhere at once.
“What’s that?” One of the guards jumped up, his hand moving to the sword at his belt.
“It came from round there!”
The two guards ran out of the courtyard, following a narrow alley that eventually led to the kitchens. Jyx and Validus seized their chance. They clambered out from behind the statue and sprinted across the yard. Jyx darted through the archway onto the approach boulevard.
Two horses, black as jet, stood saddled and ready to leave on the road. Validus lifted Jyx into the saddle of the smaller mount, and Jyx held the reins so hard his hands turned white. He hadn’t expected to see the sun heading towards the horizon, expecting it to be mid-morning, but living underground for so long had turned his body clock upside down. He peered around the pillar of the archway to look at the vast edifice of the House of the Long Dead. Bastet sat at the door.
“Will Bastet be all right?” he asked.
“Of course. My kin will take care of her, though Bastet has talents of her own,” replied Validus.
“Will we be coming back?” asked Jyx.
“I am sure we will, should we succeed, but for now, our mission awaits.”
Validus gave a signal and his horse burst into a gallop, clattering across the courtyard’s cobbles towards the vast arch. Jyx’s horse broke into a run, following Validus out onto the driveway that led to the main road. His horse needed no encouragement or guidance, and simply followed Validus.
* * *
They rode past the Necropolis, the huge city of the dead that lay between the House of the Long Dead and the City Above. Jyx couldn’t remember seeing much of the landscape during his trip to the House from the Academy. When had that been? Weeks ago? Longer? Jyx didn’t even know what day it was. Surprisingly, he didn’t care.
The Necropolis seemed to stretch forever, a vast sea of headstones and tombs, sepulchres and mausoleums. The people of the City Above followed no religions at all, believing only in life and death, and the magnificence of their tombs spoke of their earthly wealth and status more than any spiritual significance. Eventually, its sprawl gave way to the most northern neighbourhood of the City Above. Jyx had a fuzzy grasp on the City’s geography, knowing only the Academy to the east, and the Canal Quarter.
The horses ran so fast that Jyx had little time to take in the sights, but he was aware of a large district built mostly of brick. Villas lined the road, set back behind tall trees or neatly clipped hedges. The horses slowed when the buildings turned from brick to sandstone. The villas were replaced by tall terraces, and the street was narrower. Many of the shop signs in this district were brightly coloured, featuring paintings of jewellery or coins, and Jyx guessed this was Giltville. The people of the Underground City hated the idea of a neighbourhood dedicated solely to wealth, and Jyx shuddered to see so much money on display.
The sandstone buildings gave way to severe white monuments, their shades drawn against the fading light. Men in black cloaks and white wigs strode out of the buildings, gathering on corners or hailing horse drawn cabs. Jyx guessed this must be the Justice Quarter – he knew that the House of the Notorious Dead lay at the centre of the district, housing the corpses of the dead that no one wanted to speak to. They were dangerous folk, and Deathwalkers kept the peace by maintaining the barrier between the souls of the dead and any spark of life that might guide them back.
They reached a tall, white wall, with black iron gates set into it. The metal curved into wicked points that gleamed in the twilight. Validus pulled up his horse in the shadows of the buildings opposite the gates.
Jyx’s eyes adjusted, and he saw another Wolfkin, this one a deep russet with glossy chestnut fur. A figure lurked in the gloom beside it, but Jyx could make out no specific details.
“Validus! I was wondering where you were,” said the other Wolfkin.
“Peace, Fortis. I am here now,” replied Validus. “Have you found our other compatriot?”
“I have indeed.” The other Wolfkin made a complicated string of han
d signals to the figure beside it, and it stepped forward.
The girl was maybe two years older than Jyx, with skin the colour of gun smoke. Violet eyes stared out of a face too elfin to be considered conventionally attractive, but pretty all the same. Her wild mane of dark grey curls hung down her back, and she wore a simple tunic and leggings the same shade as slate. Jyx knew he was staring but he didn’t ever think he would be lucky enough to meet a Shadowkin face to face.
“I am Vyolet,” she said.
“I’m Jyx, and this is Validus,” said Jyx, gesturing to Validus.
“You can talk to it?” asked Vyolet.
“Him, and yes, I can. I hear him in my head.”
“That’s amazing! This one can talk in Shadow Speak!” Vyolet furiously signed something to the other Wolfkin, who signed in response.
“What did you say to him?” asked Jyx.
“I asked it what its name was. I just realised I didn’t know it, but it just told me to ask you.”
“Validus just called him Fortis. Please, call them ‘he’, not ‘it’.”
Vyolet frowned. She turned to Fortis and signed. Fortis nodded and signed back.
“I just apologised to…him,” she said.
“It’s okay, you’ll get used to them. So, what’s the plan then?” asked Jyx, turning to Validus.
“I will march you into the House of Correction, explaining that I have found the rogue apprentice behind the parade disaster, and I am turning you in, in exchange for a period of immunity for the House of the Long Dead,” said Validus.
“You’re going to do what?” Jyx backed away from the Wolfkin.
“Relax, Master Faire. It is merely a ruse to gain admittance. We will be accompanied by Miss Vyolet here, who will enter undetected. Once inside, you will locate my mistress, and Miss Vyolet will cloak you in shadow in order to effect your escape.” Validus spoke to Jyx, and Fortis relayed the information to Vyolet through Shadow Speak.
Jyx allowed some of the tension to dissolve from his shoulders, but he kept a wary eye on Validus. He understood now why none of the plan had been disclosed to him sooner. The Wolfkin was essentially using him as bait, and there was no guarantee the Shadowkin would be able to protect him. She barely looked old enough to protect herself.
“How will we locate her?” asked Vyolet.
“Once inside, Jyx will be able to sense her location, and you should be able to find her relatively easily.” Validus remained hazy about exactly how Jyx would know where Eufame was. Jyx tried to will away the cold ball of discomfort that had settled in his stomach.
“How do we get back out?” he asked.
“Again, Vyolet will be able to take care of that.”
“Hang on, so you want me to hide two people while we try to escape?” Vyolet planted her hands on her hips and frowned.
“It will be easier than you think. Remember that Eufame has power of her own and will be able to aid you, Vyolet,” said Validus.
“This is a really bad idea,” said Vyolet.
“I am sorry you think so, but it is the only way. My mistress cannot leave of her own accord, but she can if she is aided, and without her, I fear that the repercussions for both Cities will be great. The council may proceed unhampered in their plan to clear out the Underground City, thousands will be made homeless, and much of the knowledge preserved in the Houses will be destroyed,” replied Validus.
“Clear out the Underground City?” Vyolet stared, her purple eyes wide.
“Indeed. Their plans have been blocked at every turn by my mistress, but with her safely out of the way, they may proceed.”
“Why has she been blocking the plans?” asked Jyx. He couldn’t understand it. Eufame had power, knowledge, and in all probability vast wealth, yet she rebelled against the Crown Prince and his council at every opportunity.
“She is not human, and therefore not subject to the whims and caprices of humanity.” Validus’s tone suggested he was unwilling to say more.
“Before we go in there, I have just one more question,” said Vyolet. “Everyone has heard the stories of her amazing power, and the legends go back at least a couple of centuries. Everyone is terrified of her. So how on earth can they hold someone that strong in the House of Correction?”
Jyx nodded in agreement. Vyolet raised a valid point.
“My mistress is the youngest of five siblings. The eldest is Brigante, and she dwells somewhere beneath the Underground City, though we know not where. She has not been seen for many years. Two more reside far outside of the City Above and concern themselves only with the pursuit of knowledge. The fourth, Naiad, rules the House of Correction with an iron fist,” replied Validus.
Jyx’s heart sank. He knew all too well what Eufame was capable of, but to think of her with an older sister, who was in all probability stronger, more intelligent, and more ruthless – well, the plan was doomed to fail before they even started.
“So how on earth can I avoid the power of someone like that?”
“You must remember, I am not just sending in a Shadowkin, I am also sending in the necromancer’s apprentice.”
Jyx didn’t know how he knew, but he could tell Validus was smiling at them. Fortis gave a short bark of approval.
Something tickled in the back of Jyx’s mind, and the world slid sideways for a moment. He could see between and beyond all things, walls dropping away and doors becoming windows. A gate stood before him, and beyond that a driveway. At the end of the driveway he’d find a fortress, and within the fortress, Eufame waited. He saw her, superimposed over Vyolet and Fortis. She turned and smiled that bone-chilling smile.
“Come along, Jyximus. I’m waiting.”
10
Chapter 10
Mr Gondavere sat at the table in the Nag’s Head pub. Of all the pubs in the Underground City, the Nag’s Head was the cleanest, which just meant that the barkeeper spat in the glasses more often. Monte couldn’t find a table when he first went inside, but Mr Gondavere’s appearance prompted a group of fishwives to abandon their seats and gather outside to cluck and gossip.
Monte didn’t dare speak while Mr Gondavere studied his book. He’d read and re-read all of the collected last words, convinced he’d missed a clue. Monte stared into his watery beer, the heavy weight of death hunched across his shoulders. Normally he just buried them when they’d already left their earthly shells.
In his mind, he called to the Lords and Ladies of Death and asked for comfort. He’d never had much cause to directly petition them before, and he wasn’t sure what to expect. Would he see an apparition, or feel a spectral hand clasp his own? He wasn’t even sure what they actually were. He waited several moments, and his heart sank further when nothing happened. Maybe this work was dirty, and they’d abandoned him for it.
“Oh my!” Mr Gondavere sat back in his seat, the book open in his lap.
“What is it?”
“Do you remember the last words of the most recent unfortunate? About the wizard knowing something?”
Monte nodded.
“I had clean forgotten about it, but a woman some three months ago mentioned something similar.” Mr Gondavere lifted the book onto the table, carefully avoiding the spilled beer and sticky puddles of whiskey, and showed Monte a page early in his book. He tapped the specific line with a long, skeletal finger.
“Wizards above and below, they know, they know,” said Monte, reading the jagged script.
“Indeed!”
“Which wizards?”
“I took the liberty of consulting a colleague, and I have been informed that in many schools of thought, the wizards are the scholars of the highest merit, not the academics. It bears further investigation, does it not?”
Monte said nothing, wondering how or when Mr Gondavere consulted a colleague. They hadn’t been apart since they’d left the temple. Monte wondered again to what sort of man he’d pledged himself, and what Myrtle might say if, or when, she ever found out about it.
“It cer
tainly sounds a bit more promising that we thought it did,” said Monte.
“We should therefore consult a wizard. I am just unsure how we can locate one.”
The only place Monte knew to find wizards was in the library, but the Underground City had been bereft of libraries after the old ones were looted and turned into tenements. A thought struck him. He did know how to find one wizard in particular. Monte smiled.
“I know a wizard, and you won’t believe his name,” said Monte.
“What is it?”
“Crompton Daye,” replied Monte. “He’s the wizard I pointed out when I first met you.”
“Then I do believe we should try to locate him. Do you believe he may be of some assistance?” Mr Gondavere closed the book and slid it back into the tiny case, apparently satisfied that he’d found all he was likely to at that moment.
“He might. I can’t think of whom else to ask. Not a lot of educated folk down here, aside from the odd scholarship student at the Academy. The fishwives normally know what’s going on, but they’re often down at the shore, and you can’t separate exaggeration from fact with them.”
“It’s a start, at least. Where might we find him?”
Monte looked around the room, but couldn’t see Crompton anywhere. That ruled out the Nag’s Head, at least.
“He’s not here, so I’m guessing he’ll be either at the Golden Lamb, or the Bloody Hand,” replied Monte. “As he was in the Bloody Hand earlier, I’d say he’s probably at the Golden Lamb by now.”
Mr Gondavere smiled, revealing those dagger-like teeth again, and stood up. Monte drained the last of his beer, and took the glass back to the bar. The barkeeper nodded to him and raised an eyebrow at the departing form of Mr Gondavere. Monte shrugged and followed his employer back out into the street.
They made their way through the network of alleys and closes, this time ignoring those figures that Mr Gondavere believed were assassins. More than one street stood empty, their boarded-up windows bearing handbills for DWS or Petition Day at Lockevar’s Gate. Monte shivered to see empty closes. Where had the people gone? Something must have really spooked them to make them give up a tenement, even a cramped one. Mr Gondavere appeared not to notice the change in the atmosphere. Monte’s employer paused to hand brass buttons to street urchins and smiled at a siren plying her trade on the corner. Monte stuck his fingers in his ears until he was well past the siren, and marvelled at Mr Gondavere’s immunity to her enthralling song.
