Between Decisions: The City Between: Book Eight

by Gingell, W. R.

  No one seemed to find it too rude of him, though. Most of the other attendees avoided him entirely, and the ones that did approach him all looked as though they were equally powerful.

  Was this Zero’s childhood home? I wondered. Or was Zero’s dad attending a party somewhere else in the world Behind? The fact that he was comfortable enough to be growing flowers and grass that intruded on other guests’ space made me think that he was in his own home. I’d have to ask Zero if his childhood home had a huge golden ballroom with stars for a ceiling and ice for the floor—once I’d actually told him how and why I knew about it, that is.

  I would have liked to have been closer to the fae. It wasn’t easy to see him from where I was, and I felt I might have been able to lip-read enough to know what he was saying if I were only a little closer, despite the lack of sound.

  Did that mean this was the closest window available? I didn’t think so, because I could see others that looked much closer. It was more likely that this was the only one that didn’t have protection spells on it.

  I shivered, realising that I’d have to make sure Zero had similar spells on the windows of our house. It wasn’t that I thought the Librarian was necessarily evil, it was just that I didn’t trust him or his house not to spy on us if needed.

  I didn’t trust someone else with the same kind of setup not to do it, if it came to that. I already knew that behindkind had the same kind of surveillance capabilities as humans did: they just did it by magic instead of technology. Bugs that were really bugs, for example, and long-distance critters that looked like bats with long range hearing. I’d met one of those a little while ago.

  I couldn’t help grinning. I’d almost forgotten about Big Ears: I’d found and set him free from a human who had had access to Behind and who had been murdered by—we assumed—Upper Management. He’d given me the equivalent of a wish—call on him once, and he would help me. I wasn’t sure how helpful he could be for anything other than intel; didn’t even know if he would make good on his promise. Still, it was a nice thought. Maybe I’d try to call on him one of these days, just to see if he’d actually turn up. Add him to these windows and you’d probably have a really good surveillance system.

  Hm. Should I call him now? Was now better than never, or would there be another time that he would be more useful to me? This was the sort of thinking Athelas excelled at; I wasn’t sure that I had his talent for it, and I dithered for a little while.

  What would Athelas think about this setup, anyway? “Very useful, I’m sure,” he would probably murmur. Which reminded me that I was here in the library specifically because it had occurred to me that the windows were likely to be useful to me.

  “All right,” I murmured. “Show me the king.”

  The window flickered a bit, then blanked into being just a window with shutters behind it. Reflected, I could see myself and the library behind me; it was a soft reflection, but the worry in my face was clear to see, and so were the books.

  Well. That was flamin’ portentous.

  I shivered and said to the window, “You got it wrong, mate. I’m not the king. Got no intention of being the king, either. Show me the king.”

  The window did another bit of a glitchy fit, but instead of changing and showing me something else, it became more reflective and mirror-like, the shutters on the other side of the glass vanishing and my reflection growing certain.

  I dunno. Maybe it had always been a mirror and had only been pretending to be a window for a while.

  “If you’re gunna be creepy, just go back to what you were doing,” I told it in disgust. “I don’t want to be playing silly beggars with a piece of glass.”

  I left it at that because I had already been gone a good twenty minutes, and Zero aside, I didn’t particularly want the Librarian to come back in here and catch me looking through his windows—if they really were his windows and not the windows of some shadowy master. It was a shame that I hadn’t been able to do what I came here to do, but I’d been able to get into the place, and that was already further than I’d expected to get when I arrived.

  I went softly down the stairs and back into the courtyard, passing humans who sat at the tables there, not quite in the same plane of reality as me. It wasn’t that they looked faded or fuzzy or anything like that; they were just…not quite interacting with all that there was to interact with here. I had to stop myself from reaching out to see if I could spill someone’s tea here, and if that would make me visible to them, because I was pretty sure none of them saw me.

  I felt a bit more visible when I got back to Elizabeth Street, but that was mostly because a Pomeranian tried to bite me as I passed the table he was sitting at. His owner glared at me, too, so I was definitely back in the human world. I hurried past them both and into the Mago Café again, glad to easily catch sight of Zero’s bulk across the room. The Librarian’s windows being able to see people as well as places had left me feeling oddly watched, as if now that I was gone, someone else could very well be there, watching me. Hopefully, the Librarian used his windows for good.

  Actually, hopefully he didn’t know that they could see people and not just places. That didn’t seem likely, but a human could hope, couldn’t they? Sometimes hope is all you have to keep you going.

  Marazul smiled at me as I approached the table, but it looked like he was already getting ready to go. Both he and Zero had an empty mug in front of them, but the takeaway cup next to them had me fooled for a few moments before Zero pushed it toward me without a word and I caught a whiff of coffee. I took it happily; for a few moments, I’d thought they were doing some shorthand version of the behindkind contract they’d enacted the first time they agreed to work together without me in between them.

  Nope. Zero had just remembered to get me a coffee, too. That was nice.

  “It’s time to go,” he said, while I was still enjoying the scent of the coffee. “We’ve got a lot to prepare for before tomorrow.”

  Oh well. There was time to drink it on the way home. I was still gunna savour it.

  Chapter Ten

  JinYeong and I ended up needing to visit Abigail and the humans the next day. It would have been nice to be able to text or call them, but whatever Zero had done to our phones with Marazul’s program had limited the signal to a very specific area, and a very specific group of users.

  That very specific group was the four of us—or at least for now.

  “The merman says that once the humans are set up as well, we’ll be able to connect to the same network, but it won’t necessarily be the human network,” Zero said.

  “Pretty sure he said it’s human network plus,” I corrected him. “It’s still ours, it’ll just have a bit of Between to it. That’s how ’Zul works.”

  “Dear me!” said Athelas. “It would seem that you’ve become comfortable with the merman again, Pet!”

  “It’d be a bit unfortunate if I couldn’t be,” I pointed out. “You want me to be going ’round ignoring people we need to work with?”

  JinYeong looked as though he would have liked to have said yes, but managed to restrain himself. Zero smiled very slightly and said, “I believe he said something like that. The sirens shouldn’t be able to interfere; nor should anyone else, human or behindkind.”

  “He’s made us a private network,” I said, nodding. “That’s gunna make it hard to let Abigail know where and when to meet us tonight. Shouldn’t we have done that before we linked our phones up to the network?”

  Athelas and Zero exchanged a look and had the grace to look exasperated with themselves.

  “No worries,” I said. “I could do with a walk. It’s probably better if we don’t do too much over the phone at the moment, anyway. If you’re done with those little gadgets, I’ll take ’em round. I’ll let Abigail know where we’re supposed to meet, too—though I s’pose we’re safe to contact her after they join up to the network.”

  “I shall come too,” said JinYeong at once, turning a bland look
on Zero when Zero narrowed his eyes at him.

  “Tell them we’ll meet them at eleven tonight,” Zero said, looking away. “Somewhere away from the waterfront to start with—make it the park at the top of Salamanca Place.”

  “St. David’s? All right.”

  “We’ll split them into three groups after that: one with Athelas at Brooke Street Pier, one with me starting from the opal shop, and another to go with you and JinYeong and start at the ship, since you’re apparently inseparable these days.”

  “Perhaps you could be good enough to ask the humans to contact the detective while you’re about it?” suggested Athelas, while I was still trying to protest the inseparable comment. “Thus saving my lord or myself a journey from the house?”

  “Why not?” I said sourly. “Wouldn’t want to work you two too hard when you’re so flamin’ old.”

  Zero’s gaze lifted to the ceiling for a noticeable amount of time. I thought I heard him murmur, “I knew that would backfire.”

  Still, he didn’t try to stop JinYeong coming with me to the humans’ headquarters, which I suppose was nice. He did give me a pretty close look as I went past, though; I couldn’t decide if it was a make sure you behave yourself aimed at me or a make sure he behaves himself.

  I said, “Yes, Dad,” at him by way of a parting shot, anyway, and I’m pretty sure he laughed, even though he tried hard to hide it. If he didn’t know by now that I was keeping JinYeong at arm’s length, he ought to. I’d already told him that I’d rejected JinYeong, and it wasn’t as though we were going to be doing anything but business while we were out.

  That business took a little less time than I’d expected, too, because the humans were a shifting mess when we got there. There was also a fair bit more Between to the place than I was used to when JinYeong and I headed for the usual back office, skirting the most affected areas as best we could. The sunshine had been bright outside, and it was hard to see as we moved along the hallway; even JinYeong moved a bit more slowly than usual, though I wasn’t sure if that was because he was wary of the bits of Between fluttering in the hall.

  At the doorway to the office, I squinted and tried to clear the glitter from my eyes, unwilling to step into a darkened room even if it was a room belonging to my allies.

  To the movement within the room, I said, “Oi, are you in there, Abigail?”

  “Don’t step on that!” said a sharp voice, and Abigail emerged from the darkness, her red hair a beacon.

  Fortunately, my eyes were beginning to clear by then, and I could see what she was talking about. Ignoring the Between that wanted to be seen, I gazed around at the writhing mess of cables and furniture, catching myself in the doorway. JinYeong gave the lot of it one look, raising a brow, and propped himself against the doorframe.

  “Good grief!” I said. “You really weren’t kidding when you said you were updating! Reckon I’ll stay out here.”

  “That’s probably best,” Abigail said, with a touch of gratefulness. She turned a glare on someone in the depths of the room and added, “We’ve already had someone trip on the wires four times this morning, and if anyone else does it, I’m going to start removing appendages that aren’t useful again.”

  I didn’t see who she was glaring at, but I wouldn’t have liked to have been the one on the receiving end of that glare.

  Someone in the room—probably Ezri—said more quietly, “Yeah, and if you think she’s talking about the cables, you’re wrong. She’s talking about your—”

  “What’s up, Pet?” asked Abigail, turning back to us. “You lot lose your phones?”

  “Not exactly,” I said. “Made a few gadgets that might help with the job tonight, but we’ve got a bit of a temporary situation where we can’t call or text anyone except ourselves, so we came in person.”

  A touch of amusement lit her eyes. “On purpose, I suppose? I assume it’s got something to do with the sirens?”

  “Our mate worked us up a private network and signal jammer sorta combo for our phones,” I told her. “Yours, too. Apparently they’ll work just fine if you pin them to your clothes; reckon I’d put ’em somewhere a bit safer than that, though.”

  She hesitated, and I could see the old distrust still working behind her eyes.

  “The mate that made this stuff isn’t fae,” I told her. “If that helps. Zero had to attach it to stuff to make sure it’s wearable, but the magicky, techy stuff wasn’t fae-made.”

  “I’m gunna use it anyway,” said Ezri. I couldn’t see her, but I could see one of her boots over the top of a couch further in the room. It waggled a bit as she talked—probably because she enjoyed being contrarian to the rest of the group. “I’m not looking to die tonight.”

  “That makes a difference,” Abigail said reluctantly. “Are you vouching for them, Pet?”

  “Yep,” I said, without hesitating. That was one thing I was sure of: Zero and Athelas wouldn’t let the humans die if they could help it. Not when they were actually our allies now. They definitely wouldn’t do anything to hurt the humans’ chances of living.

  “And all we have to do is have the gadgets on our person? Pocket, phone, anything like that?”

  “So long as it’s not somewhere easy to grab,” I agreed, pinching the plastic baggie of plastic badges that JinYeong pushed at me and slinging it into Abigail’s waiting hand. “They’ve got a little pin on the back to keep ’em on, and it’s pretty heavy-duty.”

  “In case the sirens get the idea that they’re what’s making it hard to get to us? Makes sense. We’ll have our own kit as well.”

  “Makes sense,” I said, echoing her. “The more the merrier. Oi: reckon you can let Tuatu know what’s going on before you take those outta the bag? We can’t call him, either. There’s an extra one for him in there.”

  I saw the gleam that returned to her eyes, and guessed that she had just realised she would be able to bring up the favour they wanted him to do for them. I let her think about that without calling her out, even if I might have been grinning a bit.

  I said, “Anyway, we’re on for tonight at eleven. Zero says we’ll split into groups of three: I reckon he’s hoping to—”

  “Surround them,” she said, nodding. “It sounds like we’ll be drawing in the boundary. What about drunks?”

  “Hopefully, they’ll all stay in Salamanca Square,” I said bluntly. “The waterfront is still going to be cordoned off, and I’m pretty sure someone has made it hard for people to get through.”

  “Drunks aren’t exactly normal people,” Abigail said, unconvinced. “All right, that sounds good. See you then.”

  “Right, we’ll leave you lot to it,” I said, taking the dismissal with another grin. To the group of humans I could vaguely see in the sprawl of technical equipment, I advised, “Don’t lose anything you’re gunna need later.”

  That was met with good-natured jeering from the office, which we left behind pretty quickly. When we got outside, JinYeong said, “They are doing something.”

  I looked up at him in surprise. “You reckon? There was more Between around the place than there usually is, anyway. What do you reckon they’re up to?”

  “I do not know,” he said moodily. “But something is different. Perhaps they are doing a dangerous thing they do not wish us to know about.”

  “Yeah, probably,” I said, slightly cheered. It wasn’t like the four of us weren’t doing dangerous things that Abigail didn’t know about. “At least they have a bit of magic to help out—and once we’re done with the sirens, they’ll have a bit more. Zero’ll let ’em keep the badges, won’t he?”

  JinYeong shrugged but said, “We would have no use for it. Unless Hyeong does not wish for this sort of thing to be with the humans, why would he ask for it back?”

  “Yeah,” I said, but I wasn’t quite content, so I just kept walking.

  I didn’t mean to take the long way around to get home, but somehow I found myself heading more toward the city centre than our house. JinYeong must have
noticed, but he didn’t say anything, and it wasn’t until we were nearly at the mall that I realised where I was going.

  “Flamin’ heck,” I said, stopping in front of the pizza shop on the corner. “Oh well, since we’re here, we might as well get something to eat. You want pizza or bao buns?”

  JinYeong’s left brow winged up. “You will buy me food?”

  “Nope; you’re gunna buy me food. I was just giving you the chance to pick what you wanted to eat.”

  “I am very confused,” JinYeong said.

  “I haven’t got any money,” I pointed out. “Spent it all on groceries.”

  “That is not my meaning.”

  “And it’s still not a date!”

  “Ah. Then I will buy you food,” he said, and pulled me into the bao bun shop.

  “Zero and Athelas, too,” I added, just for good measure. “It’s gunna be pricey.”

  He just threw a look at me over his shoulder that suggested he knew I was trying to annoy him, so I settled against the wall to wait for our order, happy to be so well understood.

  We took the long way home, too—back along Barrack Street to turn onto Bathurst—but this time it was deliberate. I wanted another look at the Librarian’s alley. Actually, I wanted another look at his windows, but I didn’t dare to actually try and go in there again. Twice was risky but understandable; three times was downright stupid.

  Still, I couldn’t help lingering as we passed, enjoying the smell of fresh greenery floating out onto the dusty street. Something clicked in my mind, and a memory floated in along with the scent. I had been here before—not this week, not this year, but years ago. Years ago, when I had found odd, Betweeny, delightful, dangerous things nearly every day and had made myself forget them as soon as they were out of sight.

  I breathed in the scent and memory both and felt the tingle of delighted surprise that always came with discoveries of Between when I was a kid. I’d stopped here once on the way back from a trip to the lolly shop further up the road; I was supposed to meet Mum in Elizabeth Mall when I was done, but the refreshing smell of growing green things and the flaring of Between around the alley edges had caught me, body and soul. I had curled my fingers around the hard-edged covers of the book I’d brought along to entertain myself with while Mum had her meeting, and stepped toward the alley instinctively. I don’t know how long I stood there, gazing into the alley where I could see two realities sitting on top of each other. I might even have gone in and out very quickly, but if I did, I didn’t remember it. Not properly. I remembered tiny moments of sitting at a sunny table in a courtyard far away from road noise and drinking sarsaparilla cordial and smiling up at someone’s face while I read aloud to them, their face lost in a sunburst. Then, in the memory, I was outside again, smelling the same scent of greenery but warmed by the sun instead of cooled by the breeze, my fingers still tight around my book.