The Cathedral of Known Things

by Edward Cox

  And then what will you do about the hordes of wild demons waiting to follow this ugly brute, Clara? The voice drew a breath and shouted at her. Just run, you idiot!

  Compelled into action, Clara gave a final growl, turned from the worm, and ran to the Relic Guild agents.

  The instant she joined them, the edges of the shadow disc furled. Wire-thin strands of shadow arced and criss-crossed overhead to encase the three of them in a mesh-like sphere. The lines began spinning, issuing a whine that slowly rose in pitch. Clara felt tingling in her stomach, and then she and the two men lifted from the ground to float within the sphere.

  Outside, the worm gave itself a mighty push. It slithered over the cobbles, crushing the pedestal and the stone box atop it beneath its blubbery body, and reached the sphere.

  Clara barked at the demon.

  Samuel aimed his rifle.

  But as the worm’s lipless mouth descended, the thin, spinning lines of shadows began shredding flesh and breaking teeth. Spraying black blood and broken teeth, the worm recoiled with a savage hissing. The whining of the sphere reached a crescendo and it shot away from the Retrospective and its minion. In the instant before the strange carriage entered the portal swirling on the dead end wall, Clara saw the worm’s remains lying limp and steaming.

  The sphere passed through brickwork as easily as a stone dropping into water. With a whump the bright light of Silver Moon returned. The world was streaked, blurred, as they travelled through the alleyways of the Great Labyrinth. Without heeding the twists and turns or the solid brickwork, the shadow carriage continued at a speed Clara couldn’t comprehend. Though she floated calmly inside the sphere, her stomach was nauseated by the sense of movement beyond the spinning lines. Floating to her right, Van Bam seemed unconcerned by the journey; on her left, Samuel’s teeth were gritted, his face a mask of anger and fear.

  The sphere disappeared suddenly, ending the journey abruptly. Clara was sent skidding along slick cobbles. She rolled over to her feet, bristling immediately in a defensive stance, ready for any attack.

  Van Bam and Samuel exhibited no ill effects from the jaunt through the Great Labyrinth, and stood facing the wolf. Samuel had trained his rifle on her. There was deadly intent in his eyes, shining as clearly as the power stone set into his weapon. Clara showed him her teeth.

  ‘Clara?’ It was Van Bam who had spoken. He raised a hand to keep Samuel’s trigger finger at bay, and then took a step towards the wolf. ‘I know you can understand me.’

  Her yellow eyes glared at him.

  ‘This is a waste of time, Van Bam,’ Samuel said dangerously.

  ‘Samuel, just wait!’ The illusionist took another step towards the wolf. ‘Clara, you are either with us or against us. Which is it to be?’

  There was no expression on his face, no inflection in his voice. The question had come as a cold statement: life or death – choose one. By what right this man presumed to hold command over her, Clara didn’t know. But he had a rude awakening coming if he thought she would ever be subservient to him.

  ‘Nod your head if you are with us, Clara,’ Van Bam added.

  I’d do as he says if I were you. The man’s voice again, coldly amused inside her head. Van Bam is prepared to give you a chance, Clara, but Samuel is a delicate little princess, and I’m fairly certain he has at least one bullet left.

  Inside Clara, the memory of words came back to her and she found a mental voice of her own.

  I know you, she thought to the presence.

  The man chuckled. It felt like having an itch inside her head that she could not scratch.

  Perhaps you have dreamed of me, he said. Or is it that you’re remembering one of Marney’s recollections?

  Gideon …

  There will be plenty of time for proper introductions, Clara. First, please show your gentleman friends that you’re in control of yourself.

  Van Bam was now looking at Clara with a curious expression. Beside him, Samuel held his rifle with a sure and steady aim. Clara could feel the old bounty hunter’s readiness to defend himself in any way necessary.

  ‘Clara,’ Van Bam snapped. ‘Are you with us?’

  Do let him know that you are, Gideon cajoled. Samuel never misses, and it would be such a shame if you died before we became better acquainted.

  With a snort, Clara sat on the wet cobbles and bobbed her head.

  Van Bam smiled. ‘I think you can lower your weapon now, Samuel.’

  The old bounty hunter did no such thing, but his body visibly relaxed.

  Van Bam held out a hand to the wolf. The metal plates covering his eyes reflected moonlight with a soul-piercing glare. Clara felt a spark of anger. What was he expecting? That she would sniff him as if he was pack leader?

  Of course he does, said Gideon. You have never been in control of your magic before, Clara. The wolf has always been wild, as it were, and Van Bam knows that. He needs irrefutable proof that the girl is dominant. That you are indeed with him.

  I don’t need to prove anything to anyone, she thought back angrily.

  What, not even to yourself? Gideon’s tone was bored. It’s your decision, of course. Personally I think they need you more than you need them.

  Why are you in my head?

  Gideon chuckled. Just show your loyalty, you idiot. Before Samuel remembers he lacks compassion on a grand level.

  With reluctance, Clara edged forward and sniffed Van Bam’s hand. His skin reeked of sweat and magic. She sat down, her head level with his chest, and allowed the illusionist to scratch her behind the ear.

  ‘Thank you,’ he whispered to her.

  This act was enough to finally convince Samuel to lower his rifle. He deactivated the power stone and slid the weapon into the holster on his back. He then bent, placing his hands upon his thighs, and puffed his cheeks.

  Play nicely, Clara, Gideon prompted.

  The wolf padded up to the old bounty hunter. He raised his eyes to meet her yellow gaze, their faces only six inches apart. For a moment, Clara thought that Samuel might reach out and scratch her behind the ear too, but he seemed to think better of it. Instead, he gave the wolf a nod, didn’t quite smile, and said, ‘Good to know you’re still in there.’

  Clara snorted breath into his face.

  Good girl, Gideon purred. You might just live through this yet.

  ‘A strange day, wouldn’t you agree, Samuel?’ said Van Bam.

  The illusionist was standing before an end wall, where a door was set into the brickwork – a simple, innocuous wooden door.

  Van Bam continued. ‘A House symbol and a shadow carriage just when we needed them? Surely you must now believe the avatar is on our side?’

  ‘I don’t know what to believe anymore,’ Samuel grumbled. He skirted around the wolf and approached the wooden door. ‘This shouldn’t be here, Van Bam. All the doorways were removed after the Genii War.’

  ‘As the avatar said, someone saw fit to leave the Labyrinth with an emergency exit.’

  ‘Yes – but who?’ Standing on tiptoes, Samuel peered up at the rusty metal plaque above the door. ‘The symbol’s rusted away,’ he said, dropping down and facing Van Bam. ‘There’s no telling which House this doorway leads to.’

  Van Bam seemed amused. ‘Intriguing, is it not?’

  ‘Worrying was the word I was thinking of. There’s nothing to say it’ll lead us to friends.’

  ‘There is the word of the avatar.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  It’s like listening to an old married couple, don’t you think? Gideon said to the wolf.

  Why are you in my head? Clara asked again.

  Gideon didn’t reply.

  ‘Well, there’s no point trying to get back to town,’ Samuel said, and he rubbed his face. ‘And we can’t stay here. The Retrospective will find us again eventually –’ he glanced qui
ckly, nervously, at the wolf – ‘or we’ll starve to death.’

  Gideon laughed in Clara’s head.

  With a nod of agreement, Van Bam grabbed the metal doorknob, and wrenched the door open. Clara couldn’t help but issue a little growl. The doorway revealed a thick, swirling whiteness from which came the distant moaning of a lonely wind.

  The Nothing of Far and Deep, Gideon said. I’m sure you’ve heard of its legend, Clara. Only the pathways to the Labyrinth lead through its primordial mists—

  Why don’t you just tell me why I can hear your voice? the wolf thought back angrily.

  It’s a long story, Clara, Gideon replied. We’ll talk about it later. And then he fell so silent, Clara wondered if his voice had ever been there at all.

  Van Bam stepped back from the doorway and stared intently into the swirling whiteness. Finally he looked back at his colleagues, a broad grin splitting his lips. ‘Whichever House this leads to,’ he said, ‘the Aelfir on the other side will be able put us in touch with the Thaumaturgists once again.’

  ‘And all our problems will be solved, just like that,’ Samuel replied humourlessly. ‘Since when was anything that simple for the Relic Guild?’ He stepped up to the door and held it open. ‘After you,’ he said to the illusionist.

  With a quirked smile on his lips, Van Bam nodded at Clara before stepping up to the threshold. ‘See you on the other side,’ he said, before disappearing into swirling whiteness.

  Still holding the door open, Samuel looked at the wolf. His body language suggested he was now starkly aware of the fact they were alone together for the first time. His uncertainty pleased her.

  Samuel swallowed. ‘Ladies first,’ he said.

  With a snort, Clara walked forwards and fearlessly followed Van Bam into the mists of the Nothing of Far and Deep.

  Forty Years Earlier

  Spider Webs

  Air, humid and thick, coated the inside of Samuel’s mouth with an oily film, sour with the taste of effluence. Sweating, leg muscles burning, he gulped lungful after lungful of the fetid atmosphere, following the directions of the spirit compass in his hand. In the dim light of wall-mounted glow-lamps, he ran as fast as he dared along the slippery walkways. Beside him, a river of rancid sewage water flowed. Behind him, Macy and Bryant, his fellow agents of the Relic Guild, kept up easily. With their endless reserves of strength, the twins were snapping at Samuel’s heels, egging him on, pushing him to increase his speed as he led the group further into the sewers beneath the streets of Labrys Town.

  According to the spirit compass, the automaton spider was moving steadily towards the eastern district. Invisible to the naked eye, the metal construct, with its melon-sized body, long, spindly legs and the head of a golem, had been climbing and jumping and scurrying its way across town ever since Hamir had released it from the warehouse in the southern district. And the Relic Guild had been shadowing its path from below.

  Hamir had warned the group that the spider would move fast, relentless in its pursuit of Fabian Moor, and the agents would have a hard time keeping up with it. Samuel could not allow himself a moment’s respite in which to catch his breath. All he could do was keep running and focus on the spirit compass as it tracked the magic of the Genii preserved in the spider’s golem-head.

  Attempting a sharp left off the walkway and into a tunnel, Samuel lost his footing on the slimy stone. He began skidding and stumbling towards the river of sewage. Just as it seemed inevitable that he would fall in, the strong hand of Macy gripped the back of his coat. She flung him into the tunnel, and Samuel ricocheted off the wall. Macy kept him upright and shoved him back into a run.

  ‘Look lively, Samuel,’ she called, clearly amused. ‘There’s a Genii to catch.’

  Bryant laughed along with his sister.

  The twins were enjoying the thrill of the hunt, but Samuel wished there was time to give them a splash of cold water. Their confidence should have bolstered his own, but for all their magical strength, Macy and Bryant did not carry the burden of knowledge Samuel did; they had yet to see what Fabian Moor’s virus did to a person. They seemed to have forgotten that this mission was not only to hunt and capture a Genii, but also to rescue a fellow agent of the Relic Guild.

  It had been more than a day since Fabian Moor had abducted a magical apothecary called Gene. An elderly agent, quiet in his ways, Gene had never been blessed with courage. Fabian Moor wanted to know the identities of the Relic Guild agents; he wanted to extract secrets from them that would show him how to enter the Nightshade. Gene certainly didn’t have the defences to stop Moor taking what he wanted. He wouldn’t last long under the interrogation of a Genii. Would any of them? Samuel prayed to the Timewatcher that the automaton spider did its work quickly enough to save Gene’s life. And perhaps the lives of all of them.

  At the end of the tunnel, he led the twins across a bridge that spanned the river, down another tunnel, and then along the walkway on the other side.

  Samuel wore a pair of goggles that Hamir had given him. They were heavy, stifling. The faceted, green glass lenses looked like the eyes of an insect, and were imbued with magic. They had turned Samuel’s world to shades of grey – not that there was much colour to see down in the sewers. Hamir had designed the goggles to see through illusions, to penetrate the spell of invisibility that had been cast upon the automaton spider; but Samuel had to marvel at how the lenses also gave his pencil-etched world such depth and detail.

  The mortar between brickwork, the glow lamps fixed to the walls, the rough texture of the walkway, the mammoth stone rafters high above – everything came to Samuel in its own unique shade of grey. But the goggles made the way through the sewers clear and stark, all dimness and shadow banished. Clear though the route was, the trek was pushing Samuel to the limits of his endurance.

  After an hour of hard running, the spirit compass became confused, its needle spinning undecidedly around its face, and it was with immense relief that Samuel drew the group to a halt. He bent double – one hand clutching the compass, the other on his knee – and gulped down breaths of bitter air.

  Macy walked up to him. Tall and broad, her blonde, shoulder-length hair pulled back into a tail, there was a frown on her not-quite masculine face. Bryant stood next to her. His hair was the same colour as his sister’s, but close-cropped; his face was almost identical – apart from a scar that slashed down his cheek from the corner of his left eye.

  There was not one bead of sweat on the brow of either sibling, and they were barely out of breath. At that moment, Samuel considered their magical gift of strength and fitness much preferable to his prescient awareness.

  ‘Why have we stopped?’ Macy asked.

  ‘The Spider,’ Samuel said between breaths. ‘We must be … standing directly … below it.’

  She looked up at the sewer ceiling, high above. ‘It’s found Moor?’

  ‘Likely … but its path … might be blocked.’

  ‘How can we tell?’

  ‘Give it a minute.’ Samuel took a huge breath, and showed Macy the spinning needle on the compass. ‘Let’s see … if it starts moving again.’

  ‘We must be well into the eastern district by now,’ Bryant said. He looked around. ‘I’ll go and find a way out, just in case.’ And he set off along the walkway.

  Samuel stood upright, shifted the goggles onto his forehead, and wiped sweat from his eyes. The gloom of the sewers returned. He thought about removing his coat, but he didn’t suppose the humid atmosphere would be any more forgiving on his damp skin.

  Macy raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Are you all right?’

  Samuel nodded and steadied his breathing.

  Like her brother, Macy wore a thick cloak over her clothes, the hood of which was made from charmed material that would steep her identity in shadows. She also wore gauntlets and a gorget made of black leather stuffed with chain mail. When Fabia
n Moor’s hiding place was discovered, the three agents would likely be facing victims of the Genii’s virus – a virus that drove a person mad with a savage thirst for blood before eventually converting all their organic matter into animated stone, and creating a simple-minded golem. The twins had taken every precaution against getting bitten and infected, but only on Samuel’s insistence.

  ‘I’ve found the way out,’ Bryant called from a little way down the walkway.

  Samuel checked the spirit compass – the needle still spun around the face. He nodded to Macy.

  She gave a crooked smile. ‘Your power stones are charged, right?’

  Samuel pulled the goggles down over his eyes. ‘Let’s go.’

  Bryant led the way up a caged ladder fixed to the sewer wall to a metal grille platform and a set of narrow stairs ascending to a hatchway in the sewer ceiling. Samuel put on his wide-brimmed hat made from charmed Aelfirian material, and his face became hidden in shadows. Macy and Bryant hitched up the hoods of their cloaks, and the three agents climbed out into fresher air and the clear morning sky over the eastern district.

  The alleyway they entered was deserted; it was narrow and the walls were high. The sun didn’t shine in the alley, and the shadows retained the chill of night. The hatchway was imbued with magic and became indistinguishable from the cobbled ground when Bryant closed it. The spirit compass’ needle fixed onto a direction and led Samuel to the end of the alley. He smelled wood smoke and drew the twins to a halt.

  Peeking around the corner, Samuel saw two vagrants – a man and a woman – sitting in an overgrown communal garden before a small fire made from broken packing crates. On the other side of the garden, a shabby apartment block rose three storeys. It was a squat and ugly building, rickety, somehow looking like a crooked old man. Through the lenses of the goggles, the grey shades of its brickwork seemed scorched and pockmarked, its windows cracked and thickly grimed. And halfway up, the automaton spider clung to its face.