by Ben Galley
Merion pondered the faces of the crowd as it parted for them. Some were blank of expression. Others sobbed. Some even looked angry, staring at the body then off into the wild, as if promising vengeance. Others just looked plain scared, chewing on second thoughts. He was grateful in a way, that his aunt was not wrapping the reality of Fell Falls in cotton wool for him. It just made him want to leave that much quicker.
Merion missed the narrowed eyes, hidden deep in the crowd, eying him up and down, and mentally making notes. Eyes that watched him like a hawk.
*
The stranger was in the exact same position as Merion had left him, nearly an hour ago now. His boots were still on the railing and the magpie was still on his shoulder. Once again, it fixed Merion with its beady eye, and followed him all the way to the steps of the porch. Only then did this Lurker fellow click his fingers at the bird. ‘Hey,’ he spoke softly. ‘Let him be now.’
Merion was thankful, but he did not mention it. Lurker. What kind of a name was that anyway?
As his aunt climbed the steps, the stranger got to his feet. Merion had gauged him to be tall, but not that tall. Even as stooped as his posture was, he had to be nudging six and a half feet, maybe even seven. ‘Lil,’ he said, tugging at the brim of his hat.
Lilain waved her bloody hands and smiled. ‘Lurker, always a pleasure.’
There was a moment of silence between the two adults, during which Merion tapped his foot and Lurker sniffed. Lilain put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. ‘Merion, why don’t you go into the house? Lurker can help me with Mr Gowl.’
‘Sure,’ Merion replied, and gladly went into the house, eager to be out of the hot sun and out from under the stare of the strange man and his magpie. He went straight to his room.
Upon opening the door he found Rhin splayed out under the edge of the bed, groaning. At first Merion thought he’d been attacked, or had an accident of some kind. Then he noticed the faerie’s stomach; the round ball that was now trying so very hard to escape from between the buttons of his leather shirt.
‘Unnnghh,’ wailed the faerie. ‘I ate the whole thing.’
‘The whole of …’ Merion stuttered. ‘The breakfast?’
‘It took me an hour.’
‘Almighty …’
‘He can’t help me now. By the Roots, I’m stuffed. And thirsty too.’
‘Bacon will do that to you.’
Rhin groaned at the very mention of the meat. ‘How was the town?’
‘Bloody,’ Merion replied, holding up his crimson hands for the faerie to see. Rhin tried to sit up but immediately regretted his decision. ‘Yours?’ he gasped.
‘No. Mr Gowl’s.’
‘Who?’
Merion held up a pair of empty hands. ‘Some worker, eaten by a railwraith. He’s in two bits. Maybe three, I didn’t want to check.’
Rhin stared wide-eyed at the mangled springs of the bed. ‘Almighty indeed,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Was it close to town?’
‘On the very outskirts.’
‘Did you see it?’
Merion raised an eyebrow. ‘If I didn’t know any better, Rhin, I’d say you were intrigued.’
The faerie slapped his hands on the floorboards. ‘Of course I’m interested. I’m trying to embrace the wild, as you should be. Facing up to being a man, or whatever it is you humans do.’
But Merion shook his head and thrust out his jaw. ‘No, I refuse. I will be leaving this place very shortly.’
Rhin sighed. ‘So your little excursion went well, did it? Got a train ticket, have we?’
Merion puckered his lips. ‘No, not yet.’
This time, Rhin managed to prop himself up on his elbows and swivel so he could see Merion’s face, as he stood cross-armed in the middle of the room. ‘Go on. How much?’
Merion muttered something incomprehensible.
Rhin put a mottled hand to one of his pointy ears. ‘Sorry? Didn’t quite catch that.’
Merion practically snarled the answer. ‘Sixty florins!’
‘Roots, boy, no need to shout.’
‘Don’t call me boy. Not today. Besides, I sent a letter. To Constable Pagget, demanding passage home and the capture of my father’s murderer.’
Rhin nodded. ‘Well then, not a complete waste of a day,’ he quietly replied.
‘I want that bastard caught. Caught and hung for his crimes.’ Merion clenched a fist and considered sending it barrelling into the wall. He clenched his fist to his chest, and thought better of it.
‘So who’s the fellow on the porch?’ Rhin asked.
Merion scowled. ‘Some friend of my aunt’s. A man called Lurker.’
‘Lurker?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Sounds pleasant. So where are they now?’
‘Putting the body on the table, I suppose.’
‘Well, do you know what he does, where he’s from? You said there was something fishy about your aunt. Could be talking about you,’ Rhin suggested.
Merion bit his lip. ‘Why would they be talking about me?’ he asked.
Rhin shrugged, leather shoulders and gossamer wings squeaking softly on the wood. ‘Well, you could always go find out. In the basement, you said. Nice and dark down there, I imagine.’ Rhin even threw in a wink for good measure.
‘You have a way with words, Master Fae.’
‘And your aunt has a way with meat and pans. Now get going, before I pass out from the strain of talking.’
‘Gluttonous beast,’ Merion muttered as he snuck out of the door and into the corridor.
*
The basement steps were shrouded in darkness, just how he liked it. Merion tiptoed down the dusty steps, careful to stick close to the wall or the railing so the old wood would not creak. He could hear the soft pattering of conversation at the far end of the basement, near the table. Inch by careful inch, Merion crept forward, straining to pick words out of the jumble of hushed voices. Whatever they were talking about, they did not even trust the dead. For some reason, Mr Gowl had the blanket bundled up around his head.
He could hear Lilain talking. Even though she was whispering, he could sense the frustration in her voice. ‘How can you trust them? They send worker after worker to the front, hoping that sheer numbers will get this railroad of theirs built. Greed, over men’s lives. More and more are going to die when he gets here, believe me. He’ll bring them down by the carriage-load. It’ll be a buffet for the wraiths.’
‘More work for you.’
‘Like I need that. Grim enough as it is.’
‘You got a boy to support now, Lil. Ain’t no stopping progress. Lord Serped will get this railroad built if it kills him.’
There was that name again. Merion cupped a hand behind his ear.
‘Word has it another line’s being driven into the ground to the north, Spelltown, just out of the Shohari killing grounds. Say they’re going to break even by winter, at the rate they’re going.’
‘No wraiths?’
‘Not a peep. Got bears though. Rockbears. Even a ghostbear or two, if my ears ain’t fooled me.’
From the shadows, Merion watched his aunt sigh and let her head roll back so she could stare at the ceiling. ‘How I would love to get my hands on one of those.’
‘For your collection?’
‘Whyever else? Come on, what news of your Shohari friends?’
‘Still intent on moving south.’
‘Serped won’t like that.’
‘War parties have already reached Shamrok. Some say Kaspar City’s in danger.’
‘Pah. Serped ain’t the only lord in that town.’
‘What is it with you Empire lot?’
Lilain chuckled drily. ‘Like to be in charge is all. Believe it’s a birthright. We, they, rule two thirds of the world, and what they don’t rule they infiltrate with business and industry. Anyways, enough of this talk, I need to get dissecting Missus Hanniver’s cat.’
‘Cats again?’
‘Popular s
tuff, Lurker.’
‘Thanks, again.’
‘Always a pleasure.’
Merion froze as Lurker turned on his heel and marched towards the stairs. Merion pressed himself tightly to the brick wall and hoped the shadows would help him. The sound of Lurker’s boots grew loud, and Merion watched the tall figure pace past him in the darkness. The magpie squawked accusingly, but Lurker simply touched his fingers to the brim of his hat, and kept on walking. Not a word was said.
Merion let go of the breath he had been holding and felt his body sag. That was close, too close.
It was then that Lilain’s voice rang out, clear as a bell.
‘I do not abide sneaking in this house, young man.’
Merion quickly got to his feet and tried to make it look as though he had just passed Lurker on the stairs. ‘I was not sneaking, Aunt Lilain,’ he asserted haughtily. ‘I don’t sneak.’
Lilain looked him up and down slowly. She scowled, though with her smiling creases it was hard to tell if she was serious or not. ‘You’re a boy, aren’t you?’ she asked. ‘All boys sneak. So says Lurker.’
Merion carefully slipped around the side of the table and found his favourite stool, right where he had left it. As he approached, something on the wood of the seat caught the light and sparkled momentarily. Merion leant down so he could peer at the glittering culprit. He ran a cursory finger across the wood and then held a sparkling fingertip up to the light.
Lilain waved a hand. ‘Gold dust. Lurker was sat there.’ As she spoke, she gathered her tools and instruments: several vials, a syringe, and half a dozen tarnished instruments that sported a dazzling array of blades, prongs, and other such sharp edges.
Once Merion had finished wiping his seat down with the sleeve of his shirt, he took a seat ‘So he’s a gold miner then?’ he guessed.
Lilain smiled, a hint of pride there, or so Merion thought. ‘A prospector. The very best. People say the gold dried up a year ago, but somehow Lurker keeps sniffing it out,’ she cast him a glance then, as if to watch his reaction.
Merion wore a puzzled look. ‘Sniff it out,’ was all he said. Now that he was sat down, he found that he was extremely tired. Far too tired to ponder riddles and strange prospectors. ‘And what about that magpie?’
‘Jake? Ha, an old friend.’
‘Why do you keep such strange company out here in the west?’
Lilain looked up from cleaning her blades and raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you not keep strange company, Merion?’
Merion could feel the damned guilty heat rising in his cheeks. ‘What do you mean?’ he whispered. Surely she could not know …
Then her serious face cracked into a smile, and Merion knew he was safe. He smiled back shakily. ‘You’re one of us now, aren’t you? We are your strange company,’ she said.
‘Ha, quite,’ Merion replied, wondering how long he could wear his smile for. It was already starting to slip. ‘So, a cat?’ he asked, hopping subjects.
‘A cat indeed!’ Lilain manoeuvred a small tray onto her infamous table. On it sat a small object hidden under a little square blanket. ‘Do you like cats?’
Merion shook his head vehemently. ‘Not in the slightest.’
‘Good, so you won’t cry when I cut up puss then,’ Lilain chuckled, dragging the blanket off ‘puss’. It was a mangy tabby, dead as a doornail and slack as a flag on a windless day. Its eyes, which of course were staring right at Merion, were a deep oaken brown. Empty, and flat.
‘Real men cannot be seen to cry,’ Merion told her, sitting a little straighter.
Lilain snorted as she lifted her scalpel. ‘Another of my brother’s gems? Thought so,’ she replied. She waved her blade about in mid-air as her eyes roved over the cat, looking for a spot to strike. But she didn’t move, not for a while. Instead, she looked up at her nephew, still twirling the scalpel, and said, ‘So then. What shall we talk about tonight?’
Merion cocked his head to one side. ‘I’m happy to listen if you’re happy to talk.’
Lilain nodded. ‘That I am. There’s a lot to talk about, Merion, that’s for sure,’ she said. ‘Can I take it this means you’re staying?’
Merion pursed his lips, trying to keep the words from coming out until he had mulled them over first. He didn’t like the sound of them one bit, but they were all he had. ‘For a while,’ he muttered.
Lilain winked at him. ‘Good,’ she replied, obviously thrilled to hear it. ‘Now,’ she said, with a flourish of her scalpel, ‘let’s get on with the job.’
Job.
Merion held up a finger. ‘Speaking of jobs, Aunt Lilain,’ he began, trying to sound as authoritative and business-like as humanly possible, ‘I was wondering whether we could discuss the prospect of mine.’
‘Ah yes,’ Lilain said, as she slid her blade along the belly of the cat. ‘Now I have to say, you did a good job today. No complaints. Did the work. Few too many questions, but we’ll deal with that. So what do you say? Want to learn what I do?’
Merion forced himself to nod. ‘And my salary?’
‘Ah, salary. Now, let’s see. Eugin get’s a sil’erbit and four copper dimes for every body. You’ll have to share a few shifts with him first. Can’t let him go right away, now can I? One sil’erbit a body, for the next week. What d’you say to that?’ Lilain raised her bloody fingers, and smiled. Merion stared into the dead eyes of the cat while he did his sums.
The boy practically sagged under the weight of the numbers as they climbed and climbed. Unless the entire populace of Fell Falls caught the plague and perished overnight, it would take years to raise those damned sixty florins.
‘However, there will be a little rent to pay,’ added Lilain.
Merion met Lilain’s eyes, finding not a trace of humour in them. No wink in sight. ‘What?’ he gasped.
Lilain shrugged casually, ignoring Merion’s fuming gaze. ‘You’re living under my roof now, Merion. Food and keep cost money in places like this. Got bills to pay.’
‘Bills?’ Merion found himself spluttering as he hopped down from the stool. ‘What bills? You live in a desert. You don’t even have running water.’
Lilain put her hands on her hips. ‘I don’t have heating either. Don’t forget about that. I’ve got an extra mouth to feed now, don’t forget. And there’s equipment, supplies, taxes.’
‘Taxes?’
‘The world runs on taxes, Merion. You of all people should know that.’
Merion, of all people, knew one thing and one thing only: ‘This is unbelievable,’ he hissed, as he stormed off in the direction of the stairs.
‘You stop right there, Tonmerion!’ Lilain barked in a voice that Merion not heard before, one that stopped him rather forcefully in his tracks. It had that Hark ring to it, that commanding tone he longed to hear in his own unbroken voice. He slowly turned around to find Lilain walking slowly towards him. The scalpel was thankfully on the table where it belonged. Her arms were crossed, but even so, Merion could still tell that her fists were clenched. ‘Now don’t you go shouting at me because you can’t have what you want. So life ain’t fair, and you got dealt a bad hand of cards. I feel for you, but life rarely is fair, and we play with the hand we’re dealt. Nothing you can do to change that. So don’t you go yelling and snapping at me, the woman, the aunt, who’s putting you up and taking you in, who’s given you a job that don’t involve dancing with railwraiths. You understand?’
‘Yes,’ Merion whispered.
His aunt leant closer and cupped a hand behind her ear. ‘Do you understand me?’ she repeated.
‘Yes,’ Merion said again, louder this time.
A firm hand directed him back to his stool. ‘Good. Now, fire away,’ Lilain ordered him, and all sternness crumbled away by the time she had returned to her scalpel and her dead cat.
Merion was a little bamboozled, to say the least. ‘What?’
‘Questions. I know you’ve got ‘em, so fire away.’
Merion shuffled on the stool, making it
creak. ‘Erm,’ he said, wiping his brow. ‘Alright. Lurker. What’s his game?’
Lilain had already begun stripping the fur from the cat. ‘Gold, nephew, and lots of it. Now before you start thinking about loans and favours, forget it. The man would never lend you a dime. Not a selfish man, by any means. No. He just squirrels it away for some reason.’
‘Don’t people ever try and rob him?’
His aunt laughed loudly at that. ‘Oh, they try alright, the fools that don’t know who he is. You’ve seen how big he is, right? But that ain’t all. Lurker’s got magick in him.’
‘With a k?’
‘Most definitely a k, young nephew.’
Merion couldn’t help but let his eyes grow wide. Almighty damn this woman and her stories, and this land and its magic too, he cursed quietly to himself.
Lilain went on, working in her usual calm and precise way. Once again, Merion couldn’t help but watch. ‘He spent some time in the south, or so he’s said. Fighting for Lincoln in the great forests of Missipine. Doesn’t talk about it much. He’s a quiet man, and I know he’s seen things he’d give all his gold to forget. Apparently he ran into the Shohari down there, and they don’t take too kindly to us humans.’
‘You say it like they’re not …’
‘Not what?’
‘Human.’
Lilain wagged her scalpel and tutted. ‘That’s because they’re not. Different physiology. Had a look inside one in Chicago, and believe you me, their bodies are almost more animal than humans. Long necks, big shoulders, long limbs, chiselled features, greenish skin, and blood so dark it might as well be called black. But they are wise, and old, and they have had magick in their blood since the earth was young. It’s kept them wild and fierce.’
‘Animals then?’ suggested Merion.
‘No, you’d be wrong to think so. They’re an intelligent race, Merion, make no mistake. They know more about this earth than all the historians and scientists of America and the Empire combined.’
‘So what did these creatures do to him? Is that why his face is scarred?’
Lilain flashed him a smile. ‘No, they let him go. Something about him stayed their knives. He’s been able to walk their hunting grounds ever since. So, you can imagine the gossip. That’s why he keeps himself to himself.’
