Gods of Manhattan

by Scott Mebus

  Hex outlined their plan as they walked.

  “As I think I told you, fifty some odd years ago a small group executed a raid on this bank to do what we’re trying to do right now. They had the lock, they had the key, and they needed only the belt to bring down the Trap.”

  “And they had a Light?” Rory asked.

  “Yes, they did. A strong one. They made it past all the obstacles and into the vault, where disaster struck. There was an argument, and somehow the Brokers were alerted. They all perished, except for one small warrior. He escaped with the key and the lock, though the belt was too large for him to carry.”

  “Too large? How big is this belt?”

  Hex chuckled.

  “Too large for him, anyway. He was a cockroach, after all. His name was Sergeant Bertold of the M’Garoth clan, and he dragged the lock and the key behind him as he ran. He knew he’d never outrun the Brokers and the last thing he wanted was to let Tobias capture the items he carried, so he hid them along the way before expiring.”

  “Um, Hex. If this cockroach died, how did you get all this information?”

  “He was found before he succumbed to his wounds and so the knowledge did not die with him. But as far as Tobias is aware, no one escaped the botched raid. And since he is such a world-class cheapskate, he hasn’t even changed most of his traps. So we can follow the same plan they did.”

  “But if they didn’t succeed, why do you think we will?”

  Hex turned and smiled.

  “But they did succeed. They passed through all the rooms safely, which is what we will do. They just fought amongst themselves at the end; that was why they were caught. We will not have that same problem.”

  “Why did they fight?”

  “Bertold didn’t know. He arrived last to the vault, which was how he was able to escape. But I’m not worried. We are not they. We are of one mind. We’re going to do this, Rory. We will not fail.”

  The wooden floor soon became dirt. The brick on the walls turned into large, irregular stones mortared together like a farm wall. The ceiling came down closer, until Hex was forced to hunch. No one spoke. They heard the dripping of water somewhere in the distance. The tunnel they moved through looked like it had been dug down deep into the bedrock, the bones of the island. Suddenly, Hex stopped. Rory had to halt to keep from running into him.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “We’re at the first room,” Hex replied. Sure enough, they’d come to a door at the end of the tunnel. Rory stepped up to it, touching the moldy wood.

  “What’s the first room?”

  “It’s a memory,” Hex said. “A moment from the past forever repeating. There are three rooms leading up to the vault, and the first one is a memory room. We have to stay focused, find what we came for, and get through.”

  “I don’t understand,” Rory said. “Will I be able to see this?”

  “It’s not an illusion. It’s an actual moment in time, bottled up and replayed over and over again. Nothing you do will actually affect that point in time, since it’s been taken out of its place in the order of events. Kind of like a live-action video recording. But this room is very dangerous, because Tobias picked a moment where certain death awaited anyone who stumbled into it. And that is final and very real.”

  This didn’t sound too promising.

  “Then how do we get out alive?”

  “This path was designed to allow Tobias to enter from the back way undisturbed, so there is a way through. It’s a door that only opens seconds before certain death. But I know where to look, so I’m not too worried about that.”

  That doesn’t sound too bad, Rory thought.

  “What I am worried about,” Hex continued, unfortunately for Rory’s stomach, “is the fact that we have to search out the lock. Sergeant Bertold hid it in this room somewhere, and we have to find it before the door opens, or this whole mission will fail. And if we search too long…”

  He trailed off, but Rory didn’t need him to finish. If they searched too long, they’d die. Rory mustered up a bravado he didn’t really feel.

  “Sounds peachy. So what does this lock look like, anyway?”

  Hex put his hand on the doorknob.

  “Just like a normal padlock. If you see something like it, call me over and I’ll tell you if you’ve found it. Ready?”

  “Wait! Where should I look?”

  “Everywhere, kiddo. Look everywhere.”

  With that, Hex opened the door and they stepped into the past.

  “Duck!”

  Hex pulled Rory to the ground as something whistled overhead. The sound of something crashing behind them made Rory jump. He looked up and was astonished by what he saw.

  They seemed to be in some kind of fort. The wooden walls that surrounded them were dotted with cannons firing into the distance. Soldiers, or what he guessed were soldiers, ran back and forth, loading shots into the cannons and firing over the walls with their guns. They didn’t seem to be wearing any uniforms, just dirty rough clothes and tri-cornered hats. Bullets whistled through the air; cannonballs flew overhead. Rory could barely hear over the noise.

  “Where are we?” he asked.

  “Fort Tryon, not too far south of you up in Inwood.”

  “You mean Fort Tryon Park? This doesn’t look like a park.”

  “That’s because it’s not a park. Not yet. It’s November 16th, 1776, and the British are attacking. Come on!”

  He pulled Rory to his feet and dragged him over to the wall. Toy followed, dodging bullets and soldiers who were racing to defend the fort. A loud whistle sounded, followed by a thud, and Toy looked down at the lead musket ball that had sprouted in his shoulder.

  “Stay down, Toy! You’ll get blown to pieces!” Hex shouted.

  They hid behind a piece of wall that had a small hole blown right through it. Rory chanced a look through the hole to see what was going on outside. They seemed to be on the top of a hill overlooking the island, but instead of the buildings and streets of his day, there were only a few farmhouses and lots of trees. But the trees weren’t what grabbed his attention. That was reserved for the thousands of soldiers in red coats firing up at them.

  Hex’s voice yelled in his ear. “Those are the British and the Hessians. The cannonballs are coming from their fort in Queens and from a ship out on the river. They’re trying to take Fort Washington, which is the large fort behind us, and they’re going to succeed. It will be the biggest military defeat for the Americans in the Revolution, costing thousands of lives by the time the last prisoner dies. And it’s all due to the pride of General Greene, who thought he had enough strength to push back a far superior force. Such an imbecile! Thousands died because of his hubris. After this battle, the Revolutionary Army will be kicked out of New York, not to return until after the war. Half the city will burn to the ground before the war is through. Such a waste.”

  A woman ran by carrying a cannonball in her hands.

  “Was that a girl?” Rory asked.

  “Margaret Corbin, Revolutionary hero. Her husband went down, and she kept fighting. She gets seriously injured in this battle, so stay away from her! Stay near the wall and try not to get shot! We’re looking for the lock. Remember, it looks like an everyday padlock. It should be around here someplace.”

  Rory looked around at the chaos surrounding him. The lock could be anywhere.

  “This is impossible.”

  “No it’s not! It was hidden in plain sight, so if we look hard enough we’ll find it. Go!”

  Rory hugged the wall, watching the soldiers fire their muskets over the wall. As he watched, one man was hit, flying back from the wall to land heavily on the ground. The man pushed himself to his feet, holding his side, and ran for cover.

  Rory couldn’t ignore the facts any longer. If he stayed here he was going to die.

  Desperate, he began to look around for anything resembling a lock. Instead, all he could see were wounded soldiers and musket balls. He yelled back
at Hex.

  “I can’t find anything!”

  “Keep looking. We’ve still got a little time.”

  Rory came upon a door in the wall. He wished he could just open it and run away. Maybe he’d survive here in the memory of 1776. He could be a fife boy or something. But no, the door was locked. He could see the padlock on the handle. Padlock…

  “I think I found it!” he shouted.

  Hex ran over, followed by Toy. Rory pointed to the lock. Hex let out a cry of triumph and smacked him on the back.

  “Good boy! Actually used as a lock! How that little cockroach got that lock all the way up there, I’ll never know…”

  “Retreat!”

  The call came from behind them. Rory turned to see the American soldiers running away, carrying their wounded out a gate in the back of the fort. As he watched, two men ran by carrying the woman he’d seen earlier. She was covered in blood but still moving.

  “Don’t worry, she survives,” Hex said.

  “Where are they going?”

  “To Fort Washington. It won’t help them. That fort will fall in a few hours and most of them will either die in the fighting or on the prison ships. It doesn’t matter to us. We can’t follow them. We can’t leave the fort, except by the door Tobias provides. Not that it matters, since we found the lock with a little time to spare! Come on, grab that crowbar over there. We can pry off the handle.”

  Rory walked over and picked up the crowbar lying near a cannon. A thought occurred to him.

  “If they’re running away out that gate, where does this door go?”

  “It looks out onto the front. It doesn’t matter; the British are about to overrun the fort anyway.”

  “Which door are they coming in through?”

  Before Hex could answer, the door shook, as if something had slammed into it. He backed away.

  “This one,” Hex said unnecessarily.

  “So that lock is the only thing between us and the British?”

  Hex sighed.

  “Bertold must have replaced the original lock with our prize. This is a toughie.”

  The door shuddered again. They could hear shouting on the other side.

  “What happens when this door opens?” Rory asked.

  “The British kill whoever they find in the fort.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Suddenly, Hex pointed. Fifty feet along the wall, a light had appeared, outlining a doorway.

  “There’s the doorway! We’re out of time! We’ve got to chance it.”

  He picked up the crowbar and tried to pry off the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “How long does that doorway stay open?” Rory asked in a panic.

  “Not long!”

  Suddenly, Toy pushed Hex out of the way and with a mighty heave, ripped the lock off with his bare hands. He pushed hard against the door as the soldiers tried to force it open and handed the lock to Hex, gesturing toward the glowing exit.

  “Come on!” Hex yelled and took off for the way out.

  “What about Toy?” Rory yelled, following him.

  “He’ll be along.”

  Just then, the door Toy had been barricading flew open, sending the paper boy flying. Hex reached the glowing doorway and practically tossed Rory through it. Rory landed on the tunnel floor and quickly turned to stare back into the fort. Toy had risen to his feet and was running as fast as he could. Hex stood in the doorway, beckoning at his paper companion.

  “Run, Toy! You’re almost there!”

  The glow began to fade, and Hex stepped into the tunnel, but Toy was not yet to the doorway. Then, just before the glow disappeared, trapping him in the memory forever, a musket ball hit Toy in the back, propelling him forward through the doorway just as it closed. He landed heavily on the floor of the tunnel. All the noise of war was gone, replaced by Rory and Hex’s rough breathing. For a moment, no one said a word. Then Hex patted Toy on the back, pausing to pull out the musket ball.

  “That wasn’t too bad,” he said.

  And onward they walked down the long, dark tunnel.

  14

  A NEEDLE IN A GOLDEN HAYSTACK

  I am trusting you with a great task. The most important task. You are my hand out in the world. Fail, and you will be punished. But succeed, and you will rise…”

  Kieft’s words rose up in the mind of the dark figure stalking the shadowed streets of the sleeping city. Kieft had come to him not long after the Council of Twelve had discovered Van der Donck’s fate. Before that, he had been just another of Kieft’s sleeper agents, hidden deep among the gods and spirits like tiny bones in a fish. Easy to miss and ready to choke. But Kieft had picked him out of the crowd, granting him the ultimate of honors by appearing in person to give him his orders. The old assassin was dead; a new one must take up his mantle. Kieft then placed an ugly metal thing in his palm. Crudely made, more scrap iron than weapon, the knife sat heavily in his hand. The gnarled hilt bore no carvings or sigils. Just rough, barely shaped steel. But the knife’s edge was more than sharp enough to end a life. Beauty was not the intended purpose for this weapon. Kieft had forged it to deal death and end hope.

  Kieft had wasted no time in giving his new assassin a task. Not long after that first meeting, Jenny Fingers lay dead under the table at the department store. Her murder had come easily enough to the assassin. It was the murder that awaited him that gave him trouble: the death of the Light.

  He felt a flash of unease. He’d recently discovered the Light’s existence on his own but had decided against mentioning it to Kieft. He told himself he was biding his time until the boy awoke and proved to be dangerous, but deep down he knew the truth. He feared that if he spoke up, Kieft would ask him to end the boy’s life. He had no problem slitting the throats of pompous, overbearing gods, but a kid was another matter. He’d hoped Rory would stay blind until he was old enough for the assassin to kill him without getting the blood of a child on his hands. But events moved past him. Rory awoke, Kieft found out, and now the assassin had to stain his soul with a boy’s blood before the night was through.

  This had to stop. He couldn’t do his job with these guilty feelings weighing him down like this…. A thought suddenly occurred to him and he unconsciously caressed the knife in his belt. Of course. A sharp smile flashed across his face. He knew exactly how to get rid of his guilt. Kieft wouldn’t mind if a little more divine blood was spilled; it would add to the fear rising in the hearts of everyone in Mannahatta. Just a little detour, to get rid of his pesky conscience. And then he’d be able to do his job and kill the boy. He raced down the dimly lit alleyway, relief on his face and murder in his heart.

  As Rory followed Hex deeper into the dark tunnels, a question popped into his head:

  “How did the first party get out of there alive?”

  “You saw the doorway, correct?” Hex asked in reply. He didn’t even wait for Rory’s nod before continuing. “Of course you did. Because of your talents. The first party had a Light as well. I, also, am able to see the door due to my own particular skills. That gives us the edge where most people would see no way out and perish. I wouldn’t wish to be the poor fools who attempt a break-in without someone with our skills in tow.”

  Rory felt a moment’s relief, glad he’d left Bridget at home. After all, she couldn’t even have seen the way out. He took a closer look at the lock. It seemed perfectly ordinary, like a rusty old padlock you would find in somebody’s toolshed.

  “How do you know this is the right lock?” he asked.

  “I know,” Hex replied without looking over his shoulder. “That’s the lock, all right. And this is the next room!”

  They stopped in front of another door, identical to the first. Hex took back the lock and placed it in his pocket.

  “We’re looking for a small white key,” he said.

  “That sounds harder to find than the lock.”

  “Don’t worry, my boy. Just keep your eyes peeled and don’t touch anything unless you have to.
”

  He opened the door and stepped through. Confused, Rory followed, muttering to himself. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  Rory found it hard to breathe as he looked around the room he’d just stepped into. In all directions, as far as he could see, was gold upon gold upon gold. Gold statues and gold weapons and gold armor and gold rods and plain old gold bars lay stacked against one another all around them, along with piles of diamonds and other jewels, paintings and sculptures, and hundreds of other obviously valuable items. Above them the ceiling had disappeared, replaced with a soft glow that illuminated the huge room, reflecting off all the bright, shiny precious metal. It had to be the most wealth ever gathered in one place. Rory turned to Hex, his voice tinged with awe.

  “Is this another memory?”

  Hex shook his head, his eyes shining. “No. This is all in the present.”

  “So this is the vault.”

  Hex chuckled.

  “This is just his storeroom. The vault is for the really valuable stuff.”

  Rory didn’t know what could be more valuable than all this treasure. One little bauble could set his family up for life. He leaned in to take a closer look, but a hand on his shoulder pulled him back.

  “Don’t touch anything, Rory,” warned Hex. “That’s Tobias whispering in your ear. This is all too well-guarded. We wouldn’t make it too far.”

  Rory looked around wildly.

  “Are those Broker monsters around?”

  “No. They wouldn’t do for this work. There is…another guardian. But nothing we have to worry about. After all, we’re not here for money. We’re here to find that key!”

  Rory stared out at the huge room.

  “I hope it’s a big key,” he said, not really kidding.

  “About the size of a quarter. But don’t worry, it’s not gold, it’s white, so it should stand out.”