by Tara Omar
“How much of me did you scan?” asked David, looking down at the rest of her.
“The key,” said Imaan.
“Oh right,” said David. He grabbed the key from Ivan’s hand, pausing as he noticed the merish designs on his newly-slit wrist.
“Hurry up, hurry up. We don’t have much time,” said Imaan.
She stepped out of the fuchsia jumpsuit and pulled a packet of loaded syringes from pouches on her belt. She knelt down near one of the guards and began to administer life breaths. As the guard stirred, she held an open bottle under his nose until he coughed and shook his head, regaining consciousness. Still looking dazed, Imaan checked his eyes and pushed the first syringe into his arm. The guard suddenly looked very sleepy and collapsed again.
“What are you doing?” asked David.
Imaan moved to the second guard.
“I am stabilising them until medical care arrives, and injecting them with an untraceable sedative so we can get away,” said Imaan, pushing a syringe into the second guard. Imaan finished with the last guard, and threw the jumpsuit over his shoulders to keep him warm. Then she pocketed the syringes and picked up the mask of David’s head, folding it until it was the size of a postcard. She tucked it behind her breastplate.
“Come, let’s go,” said Imaan. She started down the stone walkway adjacent to the canal, in the direction the Harpies barge had taken. David followed her, leaning into a slight run as he tried to keep up with Imaan.
“How did the guards know I would be in the barge?” asked David.
“Petra told them,” said Imaan.
“Petra?”
“Yes.”
David stopped.
“My bag—”
“Already taken care of,” said Imaan. “Did Petra tell you anything about your origin?”
“She said I’m not from Aeroth or Larimar.”
“Interesting,” said Imaan.
David frowned.
“What do you mean, ‘interesting?’ Do you know where I’m from?” asked David.
“Yes, I have a good idea,” said Imaan.
“And you will not tell me?” asked David.
Imaan kept walking.
“This isn’t fair, Imaan. I have a right to know. What is going on? Where am I from? Why did Petra betray me?”
“Petra is a Fraternity member, and as such is bound by an oath to be obedient to what I ask of her. However, she does not always agree with my methods, and will try to thwart them if she disagrees with me. I asked her to follow you and to help you escape to Larimar should the need arise, but I did not place on her enough restrictions to keep her from also doing the opposite. It was a gross oversight that almost cost us the mission.”
“So Petra doesn’t want me to get the shield?”
“She does not believe in murder.”
“I don’t blame her,” mumbled David.
Imaan pulled a small pendant from her neck, similar to the large, gold one she had given to David. It was silver, with a faceted ruby at its centre.
“This is the symbol of the Fraternity,” said Imaan tracing her finger over the ruby. “The inner circle represents disease, or the poisoning of the humans. The spokes represent war, hunger and thirst coming from the poison, ending in the outer circle of destruction. We need to sever the spokes, David. Petra wants results but without the work and sacrifice. Do not mistake her weak will for wisdom.”
He paused.
“Lady, I don’t mean to be forward, but this vigilante Fraternity sworn to bring down the Leviathan seems a bit far-fetched,” said David.
“Why?” asked Imaan, turning.
“I—I just can’t help thinking this idea of poison may be meant more to manipulate the present than to account for the past.”
Imaan let out a heavy sigh.
“Irrespective of what you think of me and the legend, it is a proven fact the mers are better armed than us. For all our technical advances we do not stand a chance against them. Our fate rests with you, David Michelson. If you fail, so much suffering, like that of Norbert and Gill, will be for naught.”
David looked to his feet, the faintest glimmer of his blue flares showing under his pants.
“About the poison you gave me, Norbert said he couldn’t—”
Imaan threw her arm over David’s mouth and pushed him behind a column, knocking his head against the wall. They had barely moved when a swarm of Ibex speedboats raced past them. Soon the halls began to echo with the voices of more guards on foot; they were searching the walkways and were gaining ground, fast.
“The Zodic must have alerted Ibex headquarters,” said Imaan. “Run as fast as you can to the next manhole, about two hundred metres away, and do not look back. Ibex is too many and too near now; I cannot follow you any further.”
Imaan touched his forehead, mumbling under her breath while the voices in the distance grew louder.
“You must go, now,” said Imaan.
David nodded and bolted down the walkway. Imaan turned and climbed up a row of protruding stones on the wall, through a tight tunnel and up an air vent, disappearing mere seconds before the guards reached her.
C H A P T E R 3 8
David pushed up the top of the manhole and pulled himself onto the crumbled pavement. He found himself in a corner of the gloomiest neighbourhood in the Outlands, surrounded by a smattering of rundown shops and the high stone fences of factories. David stood up and looked around. A ball of crumpled wrappers rolled across the street like tumbleweed before catching on a broken street lamp. An old drunk kicked it clumsily as he danced around with an empty vodka bottle, singing and mumbling.
“Ruin, ruin, death and dagger, as I stagger, a killer haunts with poison,” sang the drunk. He leaned on a nearby rubbish bin for support, smiling creepily as David passed him.
“A killer haunts with poison, haunts with poison…”
David swallowed and hurried on, but the drunk left the bin and stumbled after David, still singing.
“Ruin, ruin, death and dagger…”
“Excuse me, do you know where I might find Jia Li?” asked David, as he ducked inside Delia’s Hair Salon.
The hairdresser creased her eyebrows suspiciously.
“Jia Li,” said David. “I believe she used to run boat tours.” David shifted away from the window, where the drunk was still dancing outside.
“What do you want with Jia Li? She doesn’t do tours anymore,” said the hairdresser, looking him up and down.
“She’s a friend of a friend. It was suggested I pay her a visit,” said David.
“A friend… a visit? That doesn’t sound like Jia Li,” said the hairdresser, shaking her head.
“A killer haunts with poison…” came a voice from outside.
“Will you please tell me where I can find her?” asked David.
“Doesn’t sound like Jia Li at all,” said the hairdresser, twirling her scissors. “Who’s the friend?”
“Please,” said David.
The hairdresser pointed to a wall covered in graffiti opposite her shop.
“See that?” she asked. “That’s the back of the Harpies factory. Follow the wall to the end. Turn right at the end of the road. Jia Li’s house is in the middle of the block, with a board on top. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you,” said David.
David hurried down the street to the end of the Harpies factory and turned the corner, sprinting down the block past the rows of dilapidated houses and barbed wire fences. The drunk followed him to the end of the factory before losing interest. He retreated to his rubbish bin just as David came upon the house he remembered from the brochure. The broken board above the door confirmed:
Jia Li’s Fancy Fish Tours. 3 day stay minimum
David pushed open the gate and edged toward the front door. The yard
was a tangled mess of brambles and bushes; David nicked his leg at least twice on the way to the house, which, with its double set of gates, burglar bars and electric fence, looked like a cross between the homely split-level cottage from the brochure and a high security prison. David pushed his hand through the first gate and rang the doorbell. A boxy intercom popped out of the wall next to the gate.
“Name?” asked the intercom in a tinny voice.
“David Michelson,” said David.
A buzz sounded like an electric shock, releasing the lock on the first gate. David stepped through the gate and it slammed behind him, locking him on the front stoop. A small window slid open on the door and quickly slammed shut. David rang the doorbell again.
“Excuse me, Jia Li? May I come in please? I’m sort of locked on your front stoop now,” said David.
He shuffled and waited. Then he heard the heavy sound of the inside door unbolting. A short woman with a face hardened into a permanent frown answered the door. David straightened up.
“Yes?” asked the woman.
“Hello, are you Jia Li of Jia Li’s Fancy Fish Tours?” asked David. “I have business to discuss with—”
“Hiram, there’s a guy here to see you,” said Jia Li, turning behind her.
“Actually, I—”
Jia Li pulled a can from a holster on her hip and with the accuracy of a sniper, sprayed down four bugs crawling on the doorway. They convulsed and fell to the ground at David’s feet, twitching as they died. David grimaced.
“I don’t like bugs,” said Jia Li.
“Oh, um…”
“Come inside,” said Jia Li, sheathing her bug spray. She unbolted the second gate so David could step inside. The room was very warm; a strong smell of deep-fried foods and cleaning solvents wafted toward David as he entered.
“Come greet him, Hiram,” said Jia Li to a corner of the house. As David glanced around he realised this was a very unusual house. Apart from the eclectic decorations and the sturdy, mismatched furniture, there was also a fireplace, which was burning despite it being early evening and still mostly warm outside, and also a still pond full of fish, complete with rocks and bamboo reeds, right in the centre of the room. Just beyond the pond David could make out the shadow of a man working around the corner in a room slightly above where they stood. From what David could see, it looked like a workshop.
“No,” said a blunt voice from the corner.
“Hiram, come greet,” said Jia Li.
“No, Ma,” said the voice again.
“Hiram!” snapped Jia Li.
David could hear the reluctant screech of a wooden stool shifting across the floor, followed by the heavy footsteps of the man as he trudged in their direction. As he approached, David could see he was strong and clunky looking, with a pail-shaped head and arms like tree trunks, which were covered with the dust of wax shavings. He stopped in front of David.
“Hi,” said Hiram, wiping his hands on a rag.
“Hello,” said David.
Without another word, Hiram returned to his workstation in the corner of the house, while Jia Li took her seat in a reclining armchair, leaving David standing at the door. She clicked a remote toward an old, wooden box on a table; two heads rose from the box and began engaging in passionate conversation—a soap opera. David looked around, unsure what he was supposed to do, but no one paid him any attention.
“Sorry, Jia Li?” asked David. Jia Li raised the volume with the remote, ignoring him.
David shuffled awkwardly. As he moved he noticed a toothy, female angler fish that stared at him from the wall. It was mounted above the fireplace with its jaws open, as if ready to saw off a limb with its spiny teeth. David cleared his throat.
“Excuse me, Jia Li?” asked David again.
Jia Li shot him an icy stare.
“Restless Days is on now. I shall get to you afterward,” said Jia Li, settling into her chair. “And if you bother me again, I shall have Hiram throw you into the brambles.”
Hiram looked up as she mentioned him, eyeing David suspiciously. David nodded and backed toward the wall, knocking his head against an elaborate cuckoo clock that hung there. Jia Li glared at him.
“Sorry,” said David.
Really Norma? Did you ever think for one moment that he would love you as much as he loves me? asked the floating head to the other.
David tried to watch Jia Li’s soapie from his spot near the wall, but he lost interest. He wandered past the fish pond and the grouchy-looking angler to the short set of stairs leading to Hiram’s workshop. Hiram was adding the eyebrows to a beautifully-carved wax head.
“Wow, that’s really something, Hiram,” said David as he stood at the entrance. The head was of a bearded man, grimacing as though in severe pain.
“Is it?” asked Hiram, looking up.
“Yeah, it’s amazing,” said David.
“It go to aa.”
“Aa?” asked David.
“Mount Leah,” said Jia Li from her armchair.
Hiram pointed to a photograph with a sheet of thin parchment taped over it. The photograph underneath showed the bronze figures in the fountain from the casino. Sketched on the parchment was the figure whose head on which Hiram was now working. The new bronze sculpture was to be placed just above the fallen mera, with his arm held by the woman riding the lion. David thought it might be the fallen mer King from the war.
“Did you make the Triumph of Reason fountain?” asked David.
“Ya,” said Hiram.
“And this is an extension?”
“It is.”
David nodded. He knew casting life-sized figures in bronze was painstaking work; each limb and part required at least two models and two moulds before the metal could be poured and the final pieces soldered together and polished. David wasn’t quite sure how he knew about bronze-casting, but the thought didn’t distract from his appreciation of Hiram’s work.
“Your work really is fantastic, Hiram. I must have spent five minutes just staring at this fountain when I saw it. I’m serious,” said David.
“Ta,” said Hiram. He picked up his knife and began adding wrinkles to the forehead of the wax figure, giving the grimace a lifelike aura. As he carved, Hiram began to sing.
My ju jo be of qi ba.
Of qi ba! Ha ha ha!
Of od, of id, of qi, of ba.
Qi of od, of id, of ba!
“Hiram does both lost wax and traditional Shang bronze-casting,” said Jia Li, approaching the workshop. “If you have a sketch of what you’re looking for we can work out a quote, though I can assure you there is no metalworker in Aeroth better than Hiram. You won’t get this quality elsewhere.”
“Actually I’m here to book a passage,” said David.
“A passage?” asked Jia Li. “That business is closed. I can’t help you,”
“I was told you can get me to Larimar,” said David.
Hiram looked up, wide-eyed. Jia Li shot David a dangerous stare.
“Get out,” said Jia Li.
“But—”
“I don’t know what sort of nonsense you’re trying to pull, but I have nothing to do with fussies. If you have no business to make with Hiram, get out,” said Jia Li.
“If you don’t help, I’ll be dead,” said David, rolling up his sleeve. Jia Li tensed as she looked at his wrist.
“Oh, so you’re the one of whom the Lady spoke,” said Jia Li.
“Are you a Fraternity member?” asked David.
“Hiram, watch the door,” said Jia Li. Hiram nodded and moved near the window.
“Somehow I expected more,” said Jia Li, looking him up and down. “Can you pay?”
“Dominic gambled away all the gold the Lady gave me,” said David.
“Then I can’t help you,” said Jia Li, her face hardening.
&nb
sp; “But the Fraternity…”
“Can die a painful death for attempting to exploit a poor, single mother,” said Jia Li. “I shall show you out.”
Jia Li pushed him toward the door; as he moved David felt something hard in his pants.
“Wait,” said David, stopping. He dug his hand into his underwear and pulled out Petra’s compact, offering it to Jia Li. She made a face but took the compact, examining it closely.
“Not enough,” said Jia Li, handing it back to him.
David sighed. He looked down at the compact, turning it in his hands. He noticed several of the enamel flowers on its face swivelled on hinges. He lined them up toward the centre so that they formed a three-spoked wheel.
The symbol of the Fraternity, thought David.
As the flowers moved into place David heard a click like the release of a button. The centre flower bounced with the give of a tiny spring underneath it; as David pressed it inward, a secret compartment clicked open. David turned it over.
“Oh,” said David, surprised. Nestled in the bottom of the compact were seven brilliant champagne diamonds. Before David could even look, Jia Li swiped the compact from him and held it under a spyglass she had pulled from her pocket.
“Round, excellent cut, fancy colour, 1,75 carat, very small inclusions,” said Jia Li, as she shifted the diamonds with her finger. “I’ll take three for a passage to Larimar.”
She picked out three diamonds and handed the compact back to David.
“You can change behind that curtain,” said Jia Li, nodding toward a curtain near the wall.
“Um, sorry, change?” asked David.
“You can’t go wearing human clothes,” said Jia Li.
“Oh, right,” said David looking around. “Was there a package delivered here for me, a canvas bag?”
“That’ll be another diamond,” said Jia Li, holding out her hand.
“Are you serious?” asked David.
“Handling fee,” said Jia Li.
“Right,” said David, glaring at her. He lined up the flowers again and pressed the centre flower, opening the secret compartment at the back of the compact. David handed her another diamond. Jia Li pulled his bag from a nearby cabinet and handed it to David. He sat on the steps and searched through it.
