Dark Metropolis

by Jaclyn Dolamore

  Father glanced at her. “So you’re pretty close with that Freddy, aren’t you?” He sounded like he was trying to cover concern with a teasing tone, and that was so like him that it hurt.

  She looked down, making a feeble attempt to brush grime off her coat. “Sort of. We’re only just getting to know each other, really, but it’s been so intense.” She hastily added, “I mean all of this. Rescuing you and everyone else. Not us. I haven’t even kissed him yet. I mean, we’re not—”

  “Yet, eh?” He smiled. “You don’t have to explain. I know we don’t have enough time to say everything. I guess no one ever does. But you look well.”

  Well. It seemed such a weak word to describe anything. But it was true—there never was enough time or enough words to say everything.

  As they walked, she tried to sum up the past eight years. Good things first. They still had the same apartment. Rationing had ended. They all missed him very much, but they managed. As she spoke, bad things wormed their way to the surface: Mother’s illness and Thea’s having to leave school…He was so familiar and so distant at once, and she felt like he ought to know it all already. When he started asking questions about his life with her and her mother, she didn’t know how to answer.

  “We’re going to try to find her,” Thea said. “I’m sure you’ll remember her better when you see her.”

  “Sometimes I see her face in my dreams,” he said. “I can’t wait to remember the woman it belongs to.”

  They emerged into what appeared to be a cellar. She heard shouting somewhere above her head, and footsteps thumping on the floor. So many workers were trying to escape up this single staircase that everyone was backing up into the cellar like herded cattle.

  People were still cramming in behind her, faster than they could move ahead. She was pressed against the wall. The room was quite stuffy, but there wasn’t enough space for her to get her coat off.

  Her father called down, “Wait! There’s no room!”

  “What’s going on?” called one of the men halfway up the stairs. “We all want to get out of here! There are still more coming!”

  “Please, stay calm!” Thea said, feeling the mounting panic in the narrow space. “There will be help coming outside. Break the windows!” she shouted upstairs. “Get out of the house any way you can, as quickly as you can!”

  Just above her head, the lights flickered as the bottleneck on the stairs began to ease.

  She clutched her father’s hand tighter and pushed her way forward.

  Nan watched the workers flow past her, to see the sky, to breathe fresh air.

  Sigi was curled up in the cage, face to the wall, breathing raggedly. Arabella had the door open and was trying to coax her out. “Sigi, darling? Please. It’s all right. Please look at me.”

  Sigi didn’t respond. Nan remembered when Helma was in the cage and Sigi told her not to look. I’d hate being looked at if—

  Freddy was crouching, placing his hands on Rory. The older man stirred to life. He seemed angry at Freddy, but Gerik said, loud enough for Nan to hear, “I begged him to! I wanted a chance to say good-bye to you, damn it!”

  A moment later, Freddy left them alone. He glanced around, saw Nan looking at him, and smiled faintly, awkwardly.

  “You do have a gift, you know,” she said.

  “Huh.” He looked skeptical.

  “You allow people to say good-bye.”

  Freddy glanced back at Gerik and Rory. Now they appeared to be arguing, in a quiet way. “For what it’s worth.”

  “It’s worth a lot.” Her eyes wandered, almost against her will, back to Arabella, keeping watch over Sigi.

  “Your friend?” Freddy asked more gently.

  “Something like that….” Nan’s mouth twisted briefly. “I don’t have much to go home to.”

  “Thea’s missed you terribly,” he said. “She talked about you all the time.” He raised his eyebrows. “But I know exactly what you mean. For what that’s worth.”

  “That’s worth a lot, too.” She chewed her lip. Thea would need her. It helped, to tell herself that someone would need her and love her.

  “Mother?” Sigi’s bleary voice jolted Nan’s attention. Sigi’s curls stirred on the floor, and then she drew herself into a sitting position. Her face looked drawn but Sigi-like once again.

  “Sigi?” Arabella reached to smooth her daughter’s wayward hair.

  Sigi’s eyes darted to Nan and then away again, and she shuddered. “Mother—”

  “Please listen, Sigi. I know we’ve never gotten along, but I need to say good-bye to you,” Arabella said. “I wasn’t a very good mother. I know. I’ve always been so obsessed with the resistance. But when you disappeared, it became—more meaningful. The least I could do, in the end, was to have vengeance for you.”

  “Oh, Mother,” Sigi whispered. She drew herself into a hunched position, letting her hair hide her face.

  “When you were gone, my dearest girl, oh—forgive me, but I read all your diaries and papers, and I realized how much we have in common that I never knew. How bright you are—”

  “My diaries!” Sigi moaned. “Please stop. I don’t want to remember. Those were—they weren’t for you to see.”

  “But I was grateful for those diaries, Sigi. I needed to understand you. The things you’d never told me. The things you cared about. The reasons you took your own life. We’re more alike than I ever realized. I know I’ve made such awful mistakes. How can I make you understand how much I love you?”

  “You could have cared more when I was actually alive.” Sigi grabbed her mother’s arm. “Mother, I do love you. Of course I do. But you never really listened to me. You wanted me to be someone I never was. Even now you’re telling me I’m more like you than you ever thought? That was the problem. You only loved me when I was like you. You didn’t want a daughter who was stocky and didn’t care about fashion. Who liked sad poetry and slapstick comedy. Who could be horribly shy and hated having a fuss made over her. And why would I want you to have vengeance for me? If you read my diaries, you’d know that I’m a pacifist!”

  “Well, I—” Arabella faltered.

  “She wasn’t all wrong, Sigi,” Nan said. “Something had to be done to save all of us, and your mother did it. She was wrong about some things, but not that.”

  Sigi finally looked at Nan again. “Nan…I’m sorry about everything. I must have been…so awful. I remember it, even though it seemed like it wasn’t me at all.”

  Nan took a step closer to her. “It wasn’t you.” She crouched in front of Sigi and took her hand. “We don’t have much time, so I just want you to know…” All the things she felt weighed upon her, and Arabella’s and Freddy’s presence froze her words. She would never have the time alone with Sigi that she wished for, so she just had to say something. “Your kiss is the color green. When I was lying there, half dead, I thought of you, and I saw it. It was familiar…and beautiful.”

  “Is it really true?” Sigi whispered. “You really can’t see colors?”

  “Only that one. But I’ll never forget it. I’ll never forget you.” Now the memory of green was like the feeling of sadness. A single color in her vision, a single emotion in her heart.

  “Oh, Nan…” Sigi slowly looked around, as if she had a sudden new awareness of her surroundings. “I’m going to die down here without seeing the sunrise, aren’t I?”

  “No. We’ll get you out of here.” Nan looked behind her. An endless stream of workers moved slowly down the hall.

  Sigi shook her head. “It’s all right. I don’t want to fight my way through that. You could get hurt.” She wiped her nose. “You’ll stay with me, won’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “No!” Arabella suddenly whirled on Freddy. “I won’t let you take her.” She grabbed his arm. “You can’t take her!”

 
“Mother, stop that! For heaven’s sake, he isn’t the Grim Reaper!”

  “No! This isn’t right. I’m your mother. My life is already past its prime. I’ve done everything I ever wanted to do, and then some, and I don’t even know what I’m good for anymore. You’re so young. You have so much to do, so much to experience.” She shook Freddy again. “Take me. Take me in her place.”

  “I can’t defy death,” Freddy said. “You certainly agreed on that point up until now.”

  “This is different,” Arabella said. “I know a soul must go to its death. I know there has to be a sacrifice. That’s why I’m willing to make it. Maybe I wasn’t a very good mother in life, but I can be one now. Freddy…you can do it. I know you can. You can bring taxidermy to life. What can’t you do, when it comes to the business of death?”

  “Freddy…you can’t—can you?” Nan’s voice was shaking. She didn’t want to let herself hope for more time with Sigi. A life with Thea and Freddy and Sigi. They had all been through so much, and they could all be together.

  She briefly shut her eyes. It wasn’t right to ask any more of Freddy.

  “I don’t know how difficult the spell will be,” Freddy said. “But I’m willing to try.”

  “You don’t even know me,” Sigi said. “I can’t ask you to do something like that!”

  “But I want Thea to be happy. And Thea cares for Nan. And Nan clearly cares for you. So I almost know you.” He turned to Arabella. “Are you sure?”

  “I am.”

  “Mother, you can’t do this.” Sigi finally got to her feet.

  “Go see thousands of sunrises, Sigi,” Arabella said.

  Freddy took Sigi’s hand, and then Arabella’s. Sigi’s was cold, but her face was almost back to normal now, her eyes bright and strong.

  In theory, he knew precisely what to do. He needed to take the thread connecting him to Sigi and connect it to Arabella. He thought he could use the threads as a conduit, trading her life for Sigi’s fated death. Then he would sever both threads. If he was able to do this, he would no longer be just a reviver. He might find other ways to save lives in the future, use his magic in ways Gerik and Uncle never imagined—redeem himself for all his unintentional sins.

  “Have you said your good-byes?” he asked Arabella.

  “Are you sure this will work?” Sigi grabbed Nan’s arm.

  “Yes,” he said, even if it wasn’t quite true.

  Arabella lay on the floor and shut her eyes. “I don’t want to fall when I die,” she said. She reached for Sigi’s other hand. “I’m ready.”

  “Oh, Mother, stop,” Sigi said, starting to cry. “I can’t stand it.”

  Arabella almost—almost—looked pleased, as if all she had wanted in life was to hear Sigi cry on her deathbed.

  He let the magic flow. Warmth spread to him from Arabella and then into Sigi, much more vibrant than the magic he felt when he revived the dead. He had always given life, and now he was taking it first. His body felt as pliable as jelly, his senses fuzzy, his connection to the ground weak. But none of this was bad.

  This was the strongest magic he had ever felt.

  And now the threads. He severed them, breaking the spell. Arabella was gone. Sigi was still here. He had done it.

  His head was still full of the dizzying magic, and he reached for the ground. Where was it? This was as bad as when he brought Nan back. No…worse. His stomach convulsed, his eyes blurred.

  “No,” he spat out. It was always this—the thing he loved, the thing he was best at, was also his undoing. He loved his magic, and yet it was killing him. The room spun worse than ever. “I need to—”

  He felt an arm—probably Nan’s, thin as it was—support his shoulders.

  “Freddy,” she said firmly. “You look like you want to faint.”

  “I won’t,” he insisted, but she was right. He was so very weak. “I’m…fine,” he managed, and she helped him find the floor.

  “He’s out.” Nan was holding him up.

  “Well, I can’t blame him.” Sigi was staring at her mother. “He did it.” She bowed her head. “I—I can’t believe—”

  “We have to get Freddy out of here.” Nan spoke softly to Sigi, but she looked at the Valkenraths. “Just wait here a moment.”

  Nan stalked over to Rory. He was sitting on the ground—something she doubted he’d done in a while—with his hands crossed over his knees. He was profoundly quiet while Gerik kept going on about “that time when” and “remember how Father…” He sounded apologetic and distressed, but when Nan approached them, he broke off and looked angry.

  “If you hadn’t started all of this…” he said. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. Everything’s going to hell. And you—”

  Nan was standing, patient and strangely calm.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” Gerik snapped. “You won’t be so pleased when you see what you’ve unleashed—when we’re dealing with civil war and more starvation. Oh, the people will certainly appreciate what you’ve done then.”

  Behind Gerik, Rory slowly stood and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, quieting him. “You said I was dead inside, Nan Davies.” Rory always said her last name, softly, almost mockingly. “But I saw the glittering world of my youth disappear when the empire fell. I fought for what I believed in then. I saw men die in front of my eyes. I saw arms and legs blown off. This war I opposed, because I already knew what war could do. You would have been a little girl. You might recall the starving children in the streets, the people peeling bark off trees to make soup. I was willing to do whatever it took to help the city prosper, and I don’t regret dying with that choice on my head. I hope your revolution has a plan, or you will see it all happen again.”

  “I wouldn’t have shot you,” she said. “I was willing to work with you. But this magic had to stop. And I think you understand that.”

  “I believe what you have told me. I just hope your powers will carry you past this point, because all you’ve created tonight is chaos.” He turned away. “I won’t be here to find out. Freddy needs to let me go.”

  “Not yet,” Gerik said. “What do I do about all this mess?”

  Rory looked at him. “You’re resilient, Ger. Just run like hell and lie low. The people aren’t going to be kind to you when they find out what’s happened.”

  Gerik made a grumbling sound and glanced back. “Freddy…” he said, tugging the tip of his mustache. Freddy was coming to, Sigi offering a hand to get him to his feet.

  Rory walked over, with Gerik just behind him.

  “Finish the job, Freddy,” Rory said. “I don’t want to watch all this break down.” He noticed the prone remains of Arabella a short distance away, her face frozen in what was almost a smile, and he frowned.

  “Just—like that?” Freddy asked. The pain of this responsibility was plain on his face.

  “Just like that. I want to die standing.”

  “It’s easier”—he held out a hand—“if I can touch.”

  Rory looked at Gerik one last time. He shook his brother’s hand. Gerik looked crumpled, his face quite red. Then Rory touched Freddy’s fingers. Freddy’s breath caught, and the life seemed to be drawn out of Rory, deadening his eyes and loosening his stance. Gerik caught him as he fell.

  “Lad, I—I’m sorry—” Gerik began.

  “Don’t try to turn around and apologize now. There’s nothing you can say to me.”

  “I’m going straight to your parents’ house,” Gerik said. “I’ll make sure they get out safely. They might need protection until the dust settles.”

  Freddy nodded curtly. “They’d better be safe. None of this was their fault.”

  “You stay safe, too,” Gerik said.

  “We all need to go,” Nan said, taking Freddy by one rigid shoulder. “Freddy, come with us.”

  Thea
and her father made it to the top of the stairs, the people behind them shoving Thea in their rush to escape. The workers were pouring out of every door and window, and Thea saw people in plain clothes stopping them as they emerged, gently questioning some, directing others. She recognized the man with the mustache from the Café Rouge.

  The revolutionaries were here. Thank heavens. But what were they doing? A man was standing on the hood of a car, shouting, “This is your one chance to fight back! Everyone in uniform is your enemy!” A delivery truck pulled up, and a man hopped out and opened the back to reveal piles of bats and sticks. He began pressing them into every empty hand. Some of the revolutionaries themselves had pistols and shotguns in plain sight. Thea covered her grubby purse with her hand, conscious of the unused gun she carried.

  Her father had stopped in his tracks when he came out into the open air. The sky was scattered with clouds that broke just to reveal half a moon, and he was staring upward.

  “Father, we have to hurry. We have to find Mother, and it’s dangerous here.”

  “We are…we are,” he said. He kept looking up as she tugged him forward.

  “I remember this,” he murmured. “The city—the sky—” He wiped his eyes. “Your mother…I can almost feel her.”

  “She’s just a few miles away,” Thea said. “We’ll see her soon.”

  A siren howled in the distance.

  She ran for the front gate, which was flung open to the street. The asylum was a few miles away, but if they could just get away from the crowds and keep moving, they’d be all right.

  Thea kept expecting that they’d soon reach the city streets she knew, the lonely streets where the only sounds were distant, the windows were dark, and dew clung to the occasional patches of grass. But these streets never seemed to appear. The revolutionaries were everywhere, forming loose barriers of humanity, and the workers were joining them to fight. It was more mob than army, but some of them held serious firepower, and she saw a girl forming balls of light from thin air. Thea had never seen anyone work magic out on the street before, and it seemed to promise more to come.