“I’m fairly certain those should be normal,” said Laura. “Besides, it’s not like I take all that happily. My aunt will gladly tell you that I complain all the time.”
“I don’t blame you for it. Our situation is terrible.”
“And yet you’re thanking me for it?”
“I’m thanking you for a lot of abstract things.”
He looked down at her now. When they’d first met he’d seemed nearly extinguished, but here his eyes shone with the tower’s light and he was sharp, present, hyperreal. For a moment Laura forgot to breathe. She was dazzled.
“So yes. Thank you, Laura Kramer.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
The lullaby ended.
* * *
The next morning they returned to the Sweeper shop the same time they had yesterday. It was the same crowd as was there the first day, with the addition of two more apprentices, who sat near Helen and Leo. Despite the Blairs’ sour expressions, these two looked attentive and excited to be here.
Joseph began by asking where Clae ran off to at the party. By the sound of it Leo hadn’t told him anything, and he’d come to the conclusion that there were just so many guests Clae got lost in the mix. He apologized profusely for abandoning his guest in the midst of strangers, but was elated when he heard they’d discovered Puer’s tourist spots.
He and Clae went back to talking, this time about the various abilities and mutations of monsters they’d come across. When Helen and Leo looked up, Laura glared at them. Helen was normally quiet in the first place, but Leo kept his lips sealed. On this day Clae spared Helen no glance at all, as if she truly weren’t in the room, but Laura couldn’t help but keep looking back at her. The more she stared the more she could see familial resemblance, age concealed by cosmetics. Every time the woman looked at Clae, infrequent as it was, she would turn to Leo, smoothing his hair, whispering to him, gesturing at something, and Laura felt angry, like she was doing it to rub facts in Clae’s face—This is my son, this is the one I wanted. Laura felt almost sick with anger.
Tension was high in the room, so when the telephone rang many of them jumped.
“Ah, Melody, could you get that?” asked Joseph.
Melody nodded and walked over to answer it. “This is the Puer Sweepers Guild. How may we assist you?”
Joseph turned back to Clae. “Where were we?”
“The china doll,” Clae prompted.
“Oh, yes, of course.”
Melody’s brow furrowed and she turned back to them. “It’s the operator. She says she’s patching through a call from Amicae.”
“From Amicae?” repeated Joseph, amazed. “But that must cost a fortune! How are they even managing it?”
“I’m not sure, but they’re looking for the Sinclair Sweepers.”
“Laura, you can get it,” said Clae.
“You’re sure?”
“You’re better dealing with operators.”
She took the earpiece from Melody and moved in front of the mouthpiece. “Hello?”
“Hello, who is this?” asked a shaky, female voice.
“I’m the apprentice with Sinclair Sweepers. My boss is a little busy right now.”
“I’m sure you’ll do. I’ll put the call through. It may be a bit distorted, we’re not good with long distance.”
“That’s all right.”
“Right. Patching it through now.”
Crackling noises followed. The first was loud, but it died down so it sounded like crinkling paper in the background. There was no voice, even when she waited half a minute.
“Hello?” She heard a distorted echo of her voice on the line, and it was a moment before there was an answer.
“Laura?”
The crinkling increased along with the voice, but Laura recognized it immediately.
“Okane? Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Laura, I don’t have a lot of time on this line.” Even with the crackle she could tell he was panicked. “But --- have to get back here. I said I could handle it, but I’ve got no idea how to fix this. Something’s really, really wrong.”
“What do you mean, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know, something just is. I can’t pinpoint it, but the whole city feels wrong!”
“Calm down. What do you mean, it—”
“It’s like I’m sensing an infestation. It’s far away, but it’s close, and no matter where I go I can feel it. It changes even when I’m standing still! This thing is big and it’s nasty and I don’t know where it is but it’s there.”
“You mean like on the jobs we’ve done, you’re sensing it like that?”
“It’s worse than all of those put together. I haven’t been able to sleep. I’m scared, Laura. Everything here is just horribly, horribly wrong and I don’t know what to do.”
“Hang on a second, okay? I’m getting Clae.” She turned around. Clae and Joseph were still talking, but Clae was looking at her. “Sorry, Mr. Blair, but I have to steal Clae for a moment.”
“What’s wrong?” Clae stood up.
“It’s Okane,” Laura said as he grew closer. “He says he’s sensing infestations everywhere, and he wants us to come back. Keeps saying something’s gone really wrong.”
“Ask if there’s any one place he senses it more strongly.”
Laura relayed that over, to which Okane replied, “No, it’s all bad. What should I do?”
Clae thought for a moment. “We’re going back. Tell him to keep doing the rounds, monitoring Pits and taking note of any signs. We’ll figure this out.”
Laura repeated this into the telephone.
“Hurry,” Okane replied. “I don’t think I can stand this much longer.”
“We’ll be there as soon as we can. But you have to sleep, okay? Do the rounds, but make sure you rest.”
“But it’ll get me in my sleep.”
“Sleep, or you won’t be able to function properly and it’ll get you when you’re awake too.”
Okane grumbled uneasily.
“We’ll see you as soon as we get there.”
“Please make it fast. The infestations aren’t the only ones on the move.”
The line went dead.
“I’m sorry, what’s going on?” asked Joseph.
“My other apprentice is in trouble back in Amicae. He thinks he’s found multiple infestations. We have to go back and fix it.”
“That sounds grave,” Joseph fretted, getting to his feet.
“Unfortunately, it seems so. Thank you for your hospitality, but we should leave as soon as possible.”
“I’ll ring the depot for you, then. Make sure there’s a train for you,” Joseph offered.
“That would be appreciated.”
“Good luck to you.” Joseph shook his hand. “It really has been a pleasure.”
“Likewise,” Clae replied.
Joseph walked to the telephone. Clae and Laura headed toward the exit, but as they passed the other Blairs there was a whispered “Fratricide.”
Clae stopped short. He eyed them with subdued malice. Joseph was too busy cranking the telephone to notice. Leo ducked his head after a while but Helen stared back, accusing. Clenching her teeth, Laura grabbed Clae’s sleeve and tugged him away. They kept glaring at each other until the shop door closed again.
23
SICKNESS IN THE EARTH
The train to Amicae left around five in the afternoon, and they arrived in Amicae at three the next day. Clae spent the time with their new Gin either on his lap or directly next to him as he dozed. Laura tried to sleep and was half asleep when they reached the city. The roar of the train didn’t change, but Clae did.
Immediately he sat bolt upright, eyes wide, clutching the Gin bag. His normal neutral expression dropped, and Laura could see that he was downright shocked.
“What’s wrong?”
“No wonder he called us back,” Clae hissed. “How can you not feel that?”
“Feel what?”
<
br /> “The sickness in the earth.”
“Waxing poetic, are we? Seriously, what’s going on?”
“There’s something below us. Like an infestation, only bigger. A lot bigger.”
“Below us? How is that possible? You don’t think there’s an infestation in the sewers, do you?”
“God only knows. Wherever it is, it’s big, active, and moving. We have to figure out what’s going on.”
His default expression settled back into place, but if he was really anything like Okane he was ready to panic on the inside.
This time the train carried mainly passengers, not cargo, so they disembarked inside the depot. The building was full of people. Wealthy travelers and shabbier businessmen pushed through loud peddlers and vending stands. Railroad workers bustled about the trains or tried to direct the crowd, shouting over the already deafening chatter. Okane hovered between a snack stand and a pillar, and hurried over as soon as he spotted them.
“---’re here, thank god.”
“We caught the first train we could. Are you doing okay?” Laura asked, because while the circles under his eyes weren’t terrible, he was shaking.
“Just stressed.”
“Do you have any other information on the situation?” asked Clae. “I can tell it’s there, but where exactly and how are a good start.”
“I don’t know any specifics,” Okane admitted. “But I did the Pit round today, and when I opened it, smoke came out.”
“What kind of smoke?”
“Thick. Black. Smelled awful.” Okane shuddered. “I also saw someone suspicious.”
“Who’s that?”
“He had a number on his face.” The mention stunned Clae into silence, so he hurriedly continued, “Do --- remember that morning, on the way back from the barracks? There was a Sullivan truck blocking the way, and --- spoke to the man in the hat? There was a bald man with him. It was him. That was the Rexian.”
“The Rexian Sweeper was working with the mobs?”
Okane shook his head hopelessly. “I don’t know for sure. They were arguing about which Sullivan said what, and they didn’t seem happy with each other. The Rexian was very intent on finding a bulwark and breaking it.”
Clae was quiet for a minute, then walked purposefully toward the door. The other two trotted in his wake, trying not to lose him in the crowd.
“Do you know what’s going on?” said Laura.
“I have an idea, but I need to be sure. Keep close and keep an eye out. It sounds like the Rexians are finally making good on their Sweeper attack.”
Laura understood where they were going when they took the cable car to the Fifth Quarter. Clae only frequented two places in this Quarter, and as far as she knew, he didn’t need to check in with the Amuletory. He didn’t have reason to check the tree either, but he never did. She was prepared for another long spell of sitting on roots, but that thought died when they arrived.
The tree’s leaves were now a beautiful, vivid red with undertones of orange. While some still clung to the branches, most were on the ground, probably scattered by passing feet. But it wasn’t surprising those were on the ground. The tree was on the ground too. It looked as if someone tried to rip it up out of the earth and failed, so hacked through the roots. The trunk lay horizontal a foot from its mauled stump, branches broken by the fall and its magnificent crown of leaves strewn like a pool of blood from a crime scene.
And it was a crime scene. A symbol had been painted before it, hurried but distinct: a kingshound with its jaws open and legs stretched in full gallop. Laura had grown up with this picture in films and textbooks, as familiar as the mobster circle, all accompanied by blood. It was Rex’s calling card. Some leaves still stuck in the paint; it was fresh.
Clae looked over it in silence. He didn’t bother to come near the leaves. It hardly even looked like he was breathing.
“What happened?” Laura whispered.
“Sabotage.”
“Who sabotages a tree? Why would Rex—”
“It was vital. I don’t know if that ex-apprentice opened his mouth, or if that Rexian figured it out on his own. Either way this is bad. We’re going to the police.”
Laura was completely lost, but she could tell by Clae’s tone that they were in deep trouble.
The police station was in the Third Quarter. There were smaller stations in multiple locations all over the city, but this was the main office and probably where Chief Albright was. They barged through the door and to the front desk. The elderly man there looked up through glasses that magnified his eyes to the point where he looked like a bug.
“May I help you, sir?”
“I need to talk to the chief of police, now,” Clae demanded.
“The chief? I’m afraid I’ll have to direct you to a lower level first. I’m sure they’ll be able to help you just fine.”
“Look, old man, I am the head Sweeper and I need to see the chief of police. This is an emergency.”
The old man squinted at him before recognition dawned.
“Sweeper? Ah, MARU business! Right.” He turned around in his chair and called, “Somebody get the chief! Sweeper needs to talk to her!”
“She’s working on some papers. Just send him back to her office,” someone called back.
“There you have it, sir,” the old man sighed. “She’s at the end of the hallway, can’t miss her.”
They strode down the hall, ignoring the windows into other offices, and arrived at the end door. Clae pushed it open without so much as a knock. Albright sat behind a large desk laden with paperwork. There were pictures and some wanted posters on her walls, along with a nicely sized window. Albright herself hunched over her desk, pen in one hand, other hand massaging the bridge of her nose where her glasses usually rested.
“Did you need something, Sinclair?” she asked, sounding tense but exhausted.
“We have a problem.”
“‘We’?” She glanced at a small calendar. “You’re not due back for another day at least. Why are you even in the city?”
“I was called. As I said, we have a huge problem. We have to evacuate.”
The word made Laura’s heart skip a beat. What could possibly warrant an evacuation? Albright obviously felt the same.
“What are you talking about?”
“Look,” Clae hissed.
He snatched her pen and turned over one of the papers to draw on the blank side. He made a simple sketch of Amicae and drew three vertical lines down the center and below the last level.
“These are the Pits.” He pointed at the three lines. “You know what they’re for. Drop any broken amulets down them, wash the contents once a week to keep out infestation. The bottom of the Pits used to rest on top of the magic strains underground, but due to excessive mining, most of the magic and its buffer are gone. To replace that, we put a tree here”—he circled a point on the Fifth Quarter line, then sketched branching lines downward and toward the Pit lines—“which, being a living creature and an inanimate object, acted as a living amulet. The roots were guided around the Pits to be that magical buffer, and as long as it lived, it would have magic running in those roots. It killed infestations, kept any that existed from getting out. That same tree happens to have been cut down. The buffer is destroyed. If those roots die off, they’re as good as empty amulets.”
“Infestations could begin in the roots?” Albright rose from her chair.
“It’ll take a while after the chopping for the roots to be habitable, and that tree only just came down from what I can see. We’re safe for a little longer. But once the roots are breached, that’s not the only place these things will go. They can get through the buffer, into the mining area. And from there?”
He scribbled a thick line, right up through the core of the city.
“Access to the interior. To the workers, to the utilities, to the pipes. We won’t be able to stop the spread.”
“Damage control,” said Albright quickly. “What can we d
o to stop them from getting out?”
“I would flush the Pits well and put charged amulets around the bottom until we get a permanent solution. But that isn’t going to solve the problem. There’s more.”
“How can there possibly be more?”
“Okane took care of the southwest Pit this morning and reported black smoke coming out of it. That means there’s a multitude of maturing infestations down there, maybe months old, all festering. The weekly magic dose isn’t killing them. It can’t reach them. The Pit has been compromised. Can you think of anything in the past few months that could’ve damaged it?”
“No, there can’t have—” Albright realized something, and her face became enraged. “Sullivan,” she hissed. “He was complaining to us about the Pits and how he wanted the space for his sewage pipes! We told him it wasn’t acceptable but he must’ve gone ahead and done it. I’ll kill that little bastard, I’ll kill him!”
“If he damaged the Pit, infestations may already be in the interior. Have people been going missing yet?”
“They told me it was a mining accident.” Albright curled her hands into fists. “We lost a number of people in the lowest levels.”
“Get everyone out of there and evacuate the city.”
“Where are we supposed to be sending people, into the wilds?”
“At least there your guns will work on the enemy.”
“Can you take care of this?”
“The existing infestations?”
“Yes.”
“We can damn well try. I’ll need to investigate the area to find them, though.”
“Good. I’ll send out the evacuation order.”
“When you’re done with that, telegraph the other cities. Send out an SOS. Ask for assistance and shelter, but most of all call in the other Sweepers. Three of us may not be able to handle everything.”
“I’ll have some officers take you to the place soon. They’ll pick you up from your shop once we’ve got the evacuation on the road. In the meantime, get ready.”
City of Broken Magic Page 35
