by Ben Reeder
“See you tomorrow?” Lucas asked as we got to the lot.
“Yeah … I’ll probably be most of the day taking care of this.”
“And I’ve got that exciting bar-be-que thing,” he said. “Sounds like you’re the only one having a good day today, Wanda.”
“You have my pity,” she said as she opened the door to the Falcon.
“Sure we do,” I said as I got into my Mustang. Junkyard hopped into the back seat and plopped down. Gage was already in the passenger seat looking less than thrilled. On the up side, his pissy silence was a lot easier to deal with than his snide comments, so I counted it as a win.
Mom and Dee were already gone when we got back, Mom to work and Dee probably at the Romanoffs’. Wanda’s mom saw almost as much of my little sister as I did. I ate breakfast while Gage showered, then tried to finish my own shower before the hot water ran out. By the time I got out, I was shivering. I put on my Blue Sun t-shirt and a pair of black cargo shorts in the bathroom, then crossed the hall to my room and shoved my feet into my black sneakers. Finally, I opened the secret compartment I’d made in my closet and grabbed the satchel Biladon had given me with all the bearer chits in my name.
“I’m looking forward to seeing what passes for real culture in this city,” Gage said as we pulled out of the driveway. “I’ve heard about the Underground and of course your Bazaar. It’s not as sophisticated as Boston, I’m sure, but it’s bound to have a certain rustic charm all its own.” He was looking ever so sporty, with a red polo shirt bearing the Franklin Academy crest, expensive-looking khaki shorts and deck shoes.
“Oh, I’m sure,” I said with an exaggerated twang. “New Essex is all manner of rustic. Quaint, too. Heck, sometimes we even get downright pastoral. And don’t get too comfortable.”
“Why?” he asked as I turned onto Violet Drive. The houses were getting nicer as we went, and the yards bigger.
“Because my girlfriend never rides in the back seat.”
“I am not playing chaperone so you can impress some cowan girl with our world. The Veil is there for a reason, plebe, and you are not going to violate that. It’s one of our cardinal rules. Turn this vehicle around this instant!” His voice was sharp and carried all the authority of a yippy dog. Maybe other kids found it impressive, but it fell way short of matching a pissed-off demon.
“You really didn’t read my file, did you?” I asked
“I skimmed the important parts,” he said defensively.
I turned my head and gave him an amused look. “Then you’d know my girlfriend isn’t cowan.”
“Your social life isn’t important. Your skill level is. Or, in your case, the lack of same. Your over-dependence on foci and your inadequate base skills is alarming, your extensive knowledge of forbidden lore makes you a danger to everyone around you, and your focus on combative spells is a perversion of the arts arcane. Frankly, if it was up to me, you wouldn’t even know the Franklin Academy existed, much less be sponsored by the head of the High Council himself.”
We turned onto Shade’s street as he listed my failings, and my ears burned. I fought the urge to tell him off, and mostly won.
“You know, Winnie,” I said with a smile, “if it was up to me, I wouldn’t send me, either. But it isn’t, so shut up and get in the back seat.” I pulled into her driveway as I finished. Her parents’ place was a three-story pile of brick and stone with a curved driveway in front and a separate driveway for the garage in back. I’d seen the inside a couple of times, and it was just as sterile as the exterior. I pulled to a stop next to the front door and let the Mustang’s engine rumble. Gage met my look for a few seconds before he opened the door and got out. The front door opened as he slid into the back seat, and Shade came out looking like a goddess in jeans and a blue tank top that had the word “Princess” in sequins across her breasts. She had on a white button-down shirt that she’d left open, and her eyes were hidden behind a pair of movie-star-sized sunglasses with a fancy gold frame. Her mother stood in the doorway behind her and waved at me.
“Morning, Mrs. Cooper,” I called out. She gave me a smile in return, and I wondered if I was seeing a glimpse of what Shade might look like in twenty years. If her mom was any clue, I hoped I was around to see it. Her auburn hair was a paler shade than her daughter’s, and her eyes were a darker gray. Smile lines were just starting to show around her eyes, and she took Shade’s good looks and turned them regal.
“I’ll be back later, Mom,” Shade called out as she jogged to the passenger door and got into the seat beside me, shoving a big purse with some designer logo on it between us.
“Have fun!” her mom said and closed the door. As soon as the elder Cooper was out of sight, Shade leaned across and kissed me.
“Hello, sweetie,” she purred.
“Hello, sexy,” I said as my lips tingled. I put the Mustang in gear and pulled out of the driveway.
“Who’s this?” she said after she buckled herself in and turned in the seat.
“Winthrop Gage,” Winnie said from the back seat and offered his hand. “I’m Chance’s student mentor from his new school.”
“Alexis Cooper,” Shade said, keeping her right hand in her lap and pulling her sunglasses down with her left. “Alpha of the Diamond Lake pack.” Gage leaned back in the seat with a stricken look on his face. I snuck a look at Shade. Her eyes were full gold, with no white showing, and her canines were slightly elongated.
“You didn’t tell me she was a … a …” he floundered, suddenly sounding a little less sure of himself.
“The word you’re trying not to say is werewolf,” I said. “I’m pretty sure it’s in my file.”
“Is there anything else I might have … skimmed over?” he asked.
“Plenty,” I said. “Probably even more that isn’t in there.” I turned to Shade. “Your mom actually acknowledged my existence this morning.”
“She still thinks you’re part of my rebellious phase,” she said as she dug in the bag and pulled out a black shirt. She reached over her head, grabbed the white shirt by the collar and pulled it over her head, then hooked her arms behind her back and fiddled with her bra. A few seconds later, she slipped her bra straps over her shoulders and pulled it out from under the front of her shirt. I tried to keep my eyes on the road as she pulled the straps of her tank top to the side and shimmied into a sports bra, then pulled the tank top off without exposing an inch of skin that any straight guy or lesbian with a pulse would have hoped to see. Finally, she pulled the black t-shirt on, revealing the logo for Dogma Breath on the front. “I think she’s convinced that if she acts like she approves, I’ll break up with you out of spite or something.” Not to be forgotten, Junkyard laid his chin on the seat and let out a little rumble. Shade leaned down and rubbed her cheek against his ear while she rubbed the side of his face with her free hand. He licked her chin and she let out a giggle, then he sat back down in the seat, apparently satisfied with the greeting.
“So, where are we going?” she asked as I headed toward downtown.
“First, we’re going to the Underground,” I said as we hit the zone between residential and full business district. I crossed a railroad track and turned right, heading south past the edge of the heavy industrial section of the Joplin district and into New Essex proper. Buildings got taller and taller around us until we were in Lakeside, where the oldest money in New Essex did business. I drove past the green expanse of Centennial Park, then turned right, into the parking garage of a beige stone building. I took the Mustang down to the bottom level and headed for a set of parking spots marked with Reserved signs. As I got closer, I fought down the urge to leave this parking level. There are better places to park closer to ground level, I heard in my head. It’s dark and secluded down here. No telling what might happen… Like most external influences, the thoughts bounced off my mental defenses. Shade tensed beside me, but she was no stranger to mind control magick, either. I turned into one of the empty parking spots, the effects of the aversion wards s
uddenly let up. Technically, they were legal, but they were the absolute limit of how far you could go in influencing behavior.
“I cannot say I’m entirely fond of that effect,” Gage said as the last remnants of the ward’s suggestions faded.
“Right there with you on that,” I said as I turned the car off and got out. Junkyard hit the pavement beside me, hit claws clicking against the concrete as I went around the car and took Shade’s hand.
“So, is the Vanderbeek Building part of the Underground?” Shade asked as we headed for the large alcove that looked like it only held a single door to the stairwell.
“Not exactly,” I said as we stepped into the well-lit area. About ten feet by twenty, it didn’t take a genius to notice that the stairwell door was set in the far right side of the long wall. The rest just looked like bare concrete. “Ego sum inter illustrator,” I said. I am among the enlightened, or something close to that. The illusion of a blank wall shimmered and faded, leaving us facing a broad wooden door with brass fittings and a small window set in the middle at eye level. On the right side was a single brass button, set in a rectangular brass plate. A small red light in a metal cage was above the plate, and when I pressed the button, the light blazed to life. Moments later, the sound of a motor reached our ears.A minute dragged, by then another, and I could see Gage’s expression start to turn a little sour, a millimeter of a dip at the corner of his mouth, and the slightest lowering of his eyebrows. A loud clanging sound came from below us just as he opened his mouth to say something, and we all jumped a little. It was enough to keep him quiet for another thirty seconds.
“Are you sure this is even the right place?” he demanded.
“I’m sure,” I said.
“It doesn’t sound very safe,” he said.
“Nothing fun is,” I said with a squeeze of Shade’s hand. She smiled at me and leaned over to give me a slow, lingering kiss.
“Are you saying I’m dangerous?” she asked with a wicked little grin.
“Extremely,” I said, and kissed her again. Once we pulled apart, I leaned down and grazed my teeth along the side of her neck, eliciting a satisfied little sound from deep in her throat and a smile for my efforts. Gage made a disgusted sounding little snort as Shade turned so she was facing me and nipped gently at my neck, then grinned at me with her teeth bared and her eyes a deep green.
“Could you two please keep your clothes on for a few minutes longer?” Gage said as a light began to shine behind the small window set in the elevator door. “The car should be here in an hour or so, and I’d hate for the two of you to have to dress in a hurry.”
“I’m sure you’d be so disappointed,” Shade said. “Having to watch me get dressed, that is.” A creeping tide of red spread from his neck to this forehead as Shade’s comment turned the tables on him. He sputtered for a moment, trying to find something to say, but the elevator door opened and saved him from further embarrassment.
Facing us was a Dwarf in a blue jacket with a broad leather belt around his middle that was covered in boxy pouches. A heavy revolver rode on his right hip, and I saw the hilt of a knife jutting from the top of his left boot. Fiery red hair flowed from beneath the matching blue hat he wore, a Dwarven style that resembled a longer version of a watch cap that had his clan insignia in brass pinned to the front. His beard was just as red but shorter, barely coming to the first button on his jacket, which, among Dwarves, marked him as fairly young and inexperienced, which could mean anything from forty to a hundred.
“Seeking passage to the Underground are ya?” he asked with one hand on the butt of the revolver. His eye fell on me, then on Shade before he turned to glance at Gage.
“I’m looking to open an account a Bjerning’s,” I said. “I am hight Chance Fortunato, gothi to the Diamond Lake Pack, apprentice to Wizard Corwin and Seeker of the Maxilla Asini. I serve no power of Hell or enemy of yours.” Dwarves loved titles almost as much as they loved the stories behind them. The trick was to drop at least one that they already knew. Evidently, this guy knew something about me that he liked, because his beard split to reveal broad teeth as he smiled.
“Your name is known here, Fortunato,” he said. “Be welcome in the Underground. And you, how are you known, young lady?”
“I’m…Shade,” she said, a little hesitant. “Alpha of the Diamond Lake Pack.”
“That’s all?” the Dwarf said, his voice sounding a little disappointed. “That does you no justice, Lady Shade. Firemane, I call you. Lady of the Diamond Lake Pack. Who are you, then?”
“Wintrhop Gage the Fourth, alumnus of the Franklin Academy, heir to Winthrop Gage the Third and Proctor of the Academy by order of the Wizard’s Council,” Gage said confidently.
“Your name is not known here,” the Dwarf said. “But your family’s is, and the Academy is well known. Step in, then, and be welcome to the Underground.” We stepped into the elevator car at his gesture. The car itself looked like a metal cage. The Dwarf pulled the outer door shut, then an inner door, and when he pulled the lever on the stand beside him, I could see that it really was basically a metal framework around a steel mesh platform. Junkyard sat next to me and leaned against my leg.
“My name is Brad by the way,” the Dwarf said, suddenly dropping the Dwarvish accent and sounding almost exactly like someone I would hear on TV. Everyone turned to look at him, and I wondered if my own expression was as dumbfounded as Shade’s. Seeing our faces, he let out a deep, booming laugh that seemed to shake the car. “Nay, pay no heed to my jest. I am Brand Firebeard, of Clan Hengist, alemakers to kings. Now, mind your lunch, lady and gentlemen. The view changes soon, and you’d best brace yourself for it.”
“What view?” I asked. A metallic clang sounded, and I saw the concrete walls suddenly replaced by iron, then another clang sounded, and the walls fell away. I looked up to see the iron doors closing above us, with another set dropping open to let us pass. At each corner, a steel shaft ran down the sides of the car, with iron filigree work connecting the shafts to each other at regular intervals.
“That view, lad,” Brand said with a wave of his hand.
Below us lay the Underground. We had to be at least three hundred feet up. The cavern was huge, narrow at one end, widening out to encompass the buildings, then narrowing again before the floor rose as if it was going to meet the ceiling. But it never got there. A huge oval opening gave us a view of a second chamber, this one less historic looking, and much more Dwarven. The sides were steeper and closer together, and most of the buildings were carved directly from the living stone. Quonset huts were arranged in neat rows below us in an almost perfect grid, with larger buildings that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a World War II era military base set up in the middle of the whole thing, bisected by what I first took to be a railroad track. It looked like a normal city at night, with lights shining in every window and street lights guiding the way. Even the railroad track looked like it had been laid in the Forties. Then I spotted the third rail in the middle. The railroad track disappeared into a tunnel that ran below the larger opening at the far end. Junkyard, never one to miss a good view, put his front paws on the railing and looked out over the subterranean city alongside me. On the opposite side of the track, another elevator like ours was ascending, and I could see the tall, impossibly narrow framework that supported it from the outside.
“You’re in luck,” Brand said and pointed to the narrow end of the cavern. A light appeared in the tunnel that the tracks emerged from. “You’re just in time to see the Silver Phoenix arrive.” I looked to the tunnel, expecting to see and hear a train. A horn sounded that reminded me more of a semi than a locomotive, sending a wall of sound ahead of it that seemed to say in no uncertain term that something big was coming. What emerged from the tunnel wasn’t so much a train as a jet on rails. The first car, what I figured had to be the locomotive, was a silver cylinder that tapered down at the front. The whole front end was dominated by a huge air intake for a giant turbine engine. U
nlike normal trains, this one had a glassed in cockpit at the front that reminded me more of Dr. C’s pictures of the old B-29 bombers, basically a smooth surface with the windscreens set flush to the metal. This one curved up from the front and ran back in a widening rectangle. A single line of glass panes ran back from the cockpit for the length of the engine. I caught all of that in a single instant as it rocketed out of the tunnel, pulling shiny steel cars with windows that ran along the sides and tops of each car. Another row of windows ran along the sides of the car, and I noticed that the doors sat high and in the middle. Then the Phoenix came to a stop. For a moment, I wondered how people were supposed to get off the train. My question was answered as the entire trained dropped three feet in a smooth descent. Beside me, Junkyard let out a short bark.
“Yeah, that is cool, buddy,” I said.
“What’s that over there?” Shade asked, pointing to a series of flickering lights that ran along one edge of the cavern.
“Degenerates and scum,” Gage said. “Nothing more.”
“Hate to rain on your picnic, lad,” Brand said, “but that’s just some poor folk. Can’t afford to buy a place in town, but they’re not well suited to living on the cowan side of the Veil. Them as don’t have natural Glamoury, like the fae and such, or honest folk fallen on hard times. Seems there’s more and more of that nowadays, bad as things are.”
“That’s utter nonsense,” Gage said. “My family’s business is doing better than ever. They’re just too lazy to work hard enough to make a decent life for themselves. I’m interested in the new construction over on that far wall, though.”
“That’d be a bunch of lazy degenerates building their own homes out of the cavern wall,” Brand said with a straight face. “Bought their own tools, and got licensed proper. Slow going that. Doing most of it by hand.” Gage turned to glare down at the rest of the small city below us.
“Why does it look like an Army base?” Shade asked.
“Because it was,” Brand said with a laugh that seemed to come from somewhere south of his knees. “Did you ever hear of Project Bright Halo?”
