Chaos Broken

by Rebekah Turner

  Roman’s face turned rueful and his wings settled back behind him. ‘Even with me?’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I’m not your gal for a magical ride in the sky. I like my boots on the ground, where I can control where I’m running to next.’

  He chuckled as he shut the skylight. ‘One day I’ll get you up and you’ll love it.’

  ‘No chance,’ I said. ‘Tell me, what have you been talking about with Fowler? What are you two working out?’

  Roman walked over and laced his fingers through mine. ‘Fowler believes the way to head off any disobedience with the nephilim Regulators is to give them more freedom in certain matters. Naturally, he has become very unpopular with his colleagues, but he is convinced this is the future of the Order. And in the future, who knows? Maybe the Order will recruit nephilim through individual faith, rather than religious indoctrination.’

  Despite the dark shadow Laeonder had cast in my thoughts, a cautious hope leaped in my chest. ‘If some sort of agreement was struck, would you stay in Harken?’

  Roman lifted a hand to run a thumb along my jaw line. ‘Harken is where I grew up. This city is my home.’

  My soaring hope faltered. ‘Is that the only reason?’

  A wicked grin curved his lips and he leant down to nuzzle my neck, then nipped my ear, as if to chastise me. ‘Of course not.’

  Chapter 27

  ‘Lora?’

  I snapped out of my daydream and tried to recall what Sabine had been saying. We were sitting at a bakery near the ‘acceptable’ end of Abraham’s Alley. Sabine had ordered a hot chocolate and cinnamon tart, while I nursed an espresso and almond pastry. The girl had come on my invitation, because I wanted to check she was okay and also find out what else she knew about Kalin. As Sabine had talked, though, my mind had wandered back to the very teenage make-out session with Roman yesterday afternoon. Which, unfortunately, been interrupted by a throat-clearing Casper, telling Roman he was late for a meeting.

  And he called himself a friend.

  ‘Did you want some?’ Sabine gestured to her tart.

  ‘No thanks.’ I sipped my espresso and tried not to stare at her short bobbed hairstyle. Dipping a hand into my belt, I pulled out the ribbon I’d retrieved from Kalin’s sick gift and slid it across the table. ‘This is yours.’

  Sabine pocketed it with a casual gesture. ‘Thanks.’ She touched her shoulder-length hair. ‘Though I think I’m beginning to like it short. I might keep it this way.’

  ‘I think it suits you,’ I told her ‘Makes you look sophisticated.’

  ‘Thank you for asking me out.’ Sabine smiled broadly. ‘I’ve been wanting to thank you for helping to rescue me.’

  I cleared my throat, feeling awkward. ‘You wouldn’t have been in that situation if it hadn’t been for me. But what I can’t figure out is why Kalin would attack you just to lure me to him. Is there anything you could tell me about him that might help me understand what he’s up to?’

  Sabine ducked her head. ‘I’m not sure. He didn’t really say anything.’

  ‘What about his studies? You mentioned he was smart.’

  ‘He was supposed to be this brilliant student,’ Sabine said. ‘But the teachers said he refused to apply himself. After he got too difficult, they arranged for a tutor for him.’

  ‘What kind of tutor?’

  ‘He was a monk from the Order of Guides. I don’t remember his name.’

  ‘Really.’ I picked at the edge of my pastry. It was flaky perfection, but I’d only managed to eat a small bite and Sabine’s revelation about the tutor had made my appetite disappear completely. Anything to do with the Order meant trouble.

  ‘Good morning, ladies.’

  I turned to see Caleb approaching our table.

  ‘Hungry?’ I indicated a spare stool next to me. ‘Want a coffee?’

  ‘I’m fine, thanks.’ Caleb adjusted the bulky City Watch issue wheellock at his belt and sat. ‘How are you, Sabine?’

  ‘I am well, thank you,’ Sabine said shyly.

  ‘How’s the study?’ I asked.

  ‘Slow and steady,’ Caleb replied. ‘I was on my way to Blackgoat to talk to you.’ He glanced at Sabine and reached into his pocket. ‘Actually, I might have a quick coffee.’ He handed her a coin. ‘Could you get one for me, Sabine? Just whatever Lora had is fine.’

  Sabine took the money and made her way inside the bakery. Caleb watched her go, then gave me a tired smile. ‘I didn’t think you were much of a morning person, Lora. I was ready to just leave a message at Blackgoat for you.’

  ‘Guess I’ve changed.’

  ‘Guess you have.’

  ‘Want to tell me what’s happened?’ I asked. ‘You sent Sabine away for a reason, right?’

  ‘Yes.’ Caleb’s shoulders slumped a little and suddenly he looked tired. ‘Some bodies were found last night in a warehouse near the docks.’

  ‘How many?’ I drained the last of my espresso.

  ‘Nine.’

  I nearly dropped my cup. ‘Nine? Who were they?’

  His lips thinned. ‘Mostly street kids. Two were sailors. One streetwalker.’

  ‘How were they killed?’ I asked in a quiet voice, though I already knew the answer.

  ‘The same way Poulter was. Stab wound to the chest, body positioned inside a Calling Circle and each circle was arranged as part of a larger circle.’

  ‘What condition were the bodies in?’

  ‘Just as before. Once we moved them, the bodies just turned to husks. Some we got to the morgue in time to slow the process, but others just decomposed until they were dust.’

  Before my hands could tuck into my armpits, I placed them flat on the table and thought hard. Seemed that Seth hadn’t even bothered to try finding Kalin, and since I’d failed to stop him at Pendergrast, I was responsible for this. A lump developed in my throat and I swallowed past it with difficulty.

  Caleb caught my expression. ‘It wasn’t your fault, Lora. But I did think you might want to know.’

  I didn’t agree that it wasn’t my fault, but I said nothing, just kept a careful eye out for Sabine returning with Caleb’s coffee. ‘Any witnesses?’

  ‘Two sailors said they saw a gang of youths leave the warehouse in the early hours of the morning. One of them matched Kalin’s description.’ Caleb ran a hand through his blond hair. ‘This seems in line with your tip about him being sighted near the sewers. I sent men to search them, but nothing has been found yet. Nor have the Grigori managed to crack the meaning of the Calling Circles. I’ve approached some craftusers to help us with interpreting the spell, but there’s nothing on that front either yet.’ He paused. ‘Guess it’s too much to hope that Orella is coming back soon?’

  ‘She wouldn’t be back for a while,’ I told him, feeling a slight twinge of guilt over deceiving Crowhurst about sending the letter.

  ‘Do you think these deaths will just keep happening?’ Caleb asked.

  ‘Yes, which is why we need to find Kalin and soon.’ I paused, then added, ‘You think you could post some extra men on Sabine, make sure he doesn’t bother her again? I’ll get a Runner or two to check on her regularly as well.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Caleb agreed.

  Sabine emerged from the cafe, eyes locked on a dainty cup filled to the brim with another espresso. She set it in front of Caleb and sat down.

  ‘Thanks, Sabine.’ Caleb stood. ‘But I’ve just remembered I’m late for a meeting.’

  ‘Oh?’ Sabine caught the tension in the air and bit her lip, watching me with anxious eyes. I pulled the espresso my way and gave Caleb a nod.

  ‘I’ll talk to you later, Lora,’ Caleb said. ‘Goodbye Sabine. Love the hair.’

  I stared at his retreating back, knowing he wouldn’t find Kalin. But I would, because that’s kind of what I did best. Find killers and drag them to justice.

  ***

  Back at Blackgoat, Roosen was waiting for me and the majority of the morning was spent talking about old jobs. He le
ft around noon, after he’d filled pages of his notebook, and I trundled off to a meeting for some potential security work: a silk merchant who’d been robbed twice that week. Crowhurst accompanied me and did most of the talking, while I walked the grounds of his shop, making suggestions about the security measures Blackgoat could offer.

  By the time I got home it was dark and, since it had been a fruitful day, I felt like a reward. A bottle of gin sat in my pantry and I poured myself a small glass. Taking it upstairs, I ran a bath and soaked in it for a longest time, glass in one hand and Sabine’s apricot-coloured plait in the other. The return of the ribbon seemed natural, but it had felt too macabre to return the hair. Instead, I kept it as a reminder. Of what could have happened. Another responsibility.

  When I got out of the bath, I dressed, then wove protection charms into the plait and placed it on my dresser table. Then I crawled into bed and lay there, listening as rain stormed against my roof. I thought of my resolve to the find Kalin and bring him to justice. Then I thought about Sabine and how she had no family to protect her, no one she could turn to in a time of need. It was then that I knew what I had to do, even though it pained me. After all, sometimes the people you have to ask for help are the last ones you want to talk to.

  Chapter 28

  When my eyes opened, I knew I was dreaming. I stood inside the entryway of an old, broken house, surrounded by swamp. I knew I was in the dreamlands, where I usually met the creature, Sariel, who claimed to be my father. Where he had tried to get me to accept and worship him. His plan had backfired though, and I had forsaken him completely. But now I needed some answers, so my subconscious had bought me back to where I could get them.

  I walked around the living room, feeling disorientated. This was the first time I’d tried to find Sariel, the first time I’d peeked behind the wall I’d built to keep him out.

  The floorboards creaked underfoot and I smelled damp and mould. The windows were boarded up and each room was full of deep shadow. Entering the kitchen, I felt for a light switch, but my fingers only met peeling wallpaper. I heard the scratch of a match lighting and my hand darted for a work-belt that wasn’t there. Gorath’s face glowed from across the room as he lit up a cigarette.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I uncoiled from my crouch.

  ‘I could ask you the same thing.’ Gorath used the rest of the match to light a candle, illuminating another figure at the table, features hidden in the shadow of a cowl. ‘Don’t you normally inhabit a charming hut in the woods?’

  ‘How did you know that?’ My eyes were fixed on the figure. The light from the candle didn’t touch the shadows, save for one bony hand with black nails that lay limp on the table.

  ‘Because I used to watch father talk to you,’ Gorath said in a subdued voice. ‘I used to listen at the door as he spoke kind words to you, trying to get you to trust him. I’m sure he wanted me to watch, you know.’

  As he talked, the candle’s light bloomed, its soft glow revealing the identity of the third person. But, of course, I already knew who it was.

  ‘Daughter.’

  Sariel’s voice was a dry rasp. I leaned closer, seeing his face now ravaged by burn marks. His wings drooped behind him and pale bone peered through the tattered grey feathers.

  ‘What happened to you?’ I asked. Even though I’d always been afraid of Sariel, seeing him dragged so low touched something deep inside me. It surprised me to realise I felt sorry for him.

  ‘Our father fell out of favour with his masters.’ Gorath inhaled deeply on his cigarette, end glowing red hot. ‘His plot to acquire more power was uncovered and he was punished. Stripped of his status and cast out, forced to join the ranks of the Unclean.’

  ‘There’s no proof he’s your father, or mine,’ I said. ‘No proof you’re my brother.’

  ‘Isn’t your consciousness being here enough proof?’ Gorath asked with a small smile.

  Tearing my eyes from the bent, pathetic figure at the table, I looked around the room. ‘What is this place?’

  ‘Where he used to take me,’ Gorath said, waving a vague hand around. ‘Here, he would light a fire and tell me tales of the Dreadwitch and Howling King. Of my destiny that he would shape, a destiny that would give meaning to the miserable life he’d granted me.’ He pointed to a door bolted shut near me. ‘And that’s the cellar he used to throw me down and lock the door.’

  I stared at the door, horrified by what I was hearing. When I looked back at Gorath, I found him watching me with an assessing look.

  ‘How did you get the scars on your neck?’ I asked, sure I really didn’t want to know, but realising I needed to.

  ‘After the madness began to take me, I fled to the Outlands,’ Gorath said. ‘There, I crashed the car I was driving in a rather pathetic attempt to kill myself.’ He tilted his chin, so I could get a good look at the twisted skin. ‘Every time I look in the mirror, I’m reminded of the pain he caused me, of the edge of insanity he pushed me to.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked Sariel. ‘Why would you torture your own son?’

  Gorath drew back into shadow, cigarette smoke wafting about his head. ‘Yes, father. Tell her why.’

  Sariel sucked in rattling breath, then exhaled with a wheezing whistle, saying nothing.

  ‘Why?’ I demanded.

  The angel’s thin lips parted into a smile, revealing pointed teeth. ‘I was teaching him to fear his master. Fear is a great motivator.’

  ‘Why did you hurt him and not me?’ I asked.

  Lines appeared on Sariel’s forehead and his horrible smile dropped. ‘I did not think you had the mental fortitude to stand up to such tests. You were not as strong as your brother and I did not want to break you. I needed you to accept me first, as your brother had.’

  ‘And so I believed.’ Gorath stepped back into the spluttering light of the candle, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. ‘I believed I could fulfil this destiny and my father would finally love me. That we, sister, would achieve greatness through our adversity.’

  ‘Until you swayed from the path.’ Sariel’s voice turned sharp. He shifted around to look at Gorath and I noticed a dozen red puckers of burn marks on his corpse-white skin. ‘Until you decided that a woman was more important that fulfilling the very reason for your existence.’

  ‘Manika is the only reason for my existence,’ Gorath examined the end of his cigarette with an absent expression. ‘She’s with child, you know.’

  ‘Congratulations,’ I said softly.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You both betray me,’ Sariel said bitterly. ‘When you are sworn enemies. You will see, a day will come when you will face each other and this friendship,’ he spat the word, ‘will turn to dust and sorrow.’

  ‘Shut up.’ Gorath grabbed Sariel around the neck and shoved the lit cigarette end into his hollow cheek. Sariel struggled against him and Gorath pressed harder. I stumbled back a step, realising the marks on the angel’s skin were from Gorath’s hand.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I shouted. ‘Stop it.’

  Gorath stayed there a moment longer, crushing the cigarette harder into Sariel’s skin. The angel’s struggles became weaker, until Gorath let him go and stepped back, breathing hard. Sariel lowered his face into his skeleton-thin hands.

  ‘Have you lost your mind?’ I asked him.

  ‘Hardly,’ Gorath murmured. ‘In fact, I’ve never felt better.’

  I ran a shaky hand through my hair. ‘Why are you even here? You can prevent him from entering your dreams, just like I did.’

  ‘I don’t want to forget this,’ Gorath said, brushing bits of tobacco off his hands. ‘Once I understood the limitations of our father’s power, I understood what was possible. I waited, until I saw my chance. A moment where he was weak, so I could strike back.’ He blinked, gaze focusing on me, and his fierce look softened. ‘When you cast him out and rejected him so completely, it was the beginning of the end for him. You struck the first blow and for that, I thank you.
’

  ‘Does Manika know you come here?’ I asked him. ‘Does she know this is what you dream of?’

  ‘She does not.’

  ‘Are you going to tell her?’

  ‘This does not concern her. This is for me. I had years of torment at his hand, simply because I accepted his lies about my destiny.’

  ‘How long are you going to come here and relive the past?’ I asked.

  ‘For as long as it takes. It soothes me to do so,’ Gorath said, voice quiet. ‘And it keeps the darkness of my mind at bay.’

  I shook my head slowly. ‘This isn’t right.’

  ‘What isn’t right?’ Gorath hissed. ‘That you received his mercy and I did not? He wanted us to be enemies. He was doing all in his power to make it so. But he is defeated now and I plan to remind him of the pain he caused me. I plan to allow him to revisit the horror he put me through, as often as I am able.’

  ‘Gorath.’ I stepped around the table, inching closer to him. ‘Please. Turn your back on this madness.’

  He made a frustrated gesture. ‘Why are you here, Lora? How did you even find this place?’

  Sariel lifted his head from his hands and I saw hate and despair in the depths of his eyes. ‘Did you come for me?’

  I took a breath. ‘Yes.’

  ‘If I can help you, I will.’ His voice was thin but eager.

  I sat down opposite him, my fingers brushing the table, picking up dust. ‘I need information. There’s a killer using Calling Circles filled with numbers, all crammed together, like they mean something. The victims are placed in the middle and stabbed in the chest.’

  Sariel’s hands withdrew to his side. ‘Anything unusual about the wounds?’

  ‘Not really. The killer does carry around an old sword though,’ I said. ‘And after they’re dead, the bodies decay rapidly to dust.’

  ‘In the levels of magic, there are the lightcraft and the darkcraft,’ Sariel said, voice low and earnest. ‘Both are considered low-magic, a type of earthbound craft. Immortals use high-magic, which can tap into the ley-lines directly without a casting agent. Nephilim themselves are born with high-magic ability to blood cast.’