The Relic Guild

by Edward Cox

  Beside Van Bam, Samuel had already sensed the danger. He drew the small, snub-nosed pistol from his boot, thumbed the power stone and took aim. He pulled the trigger and released the stone’s charge. The spitting shot cracked into the young gunman’s temple. He snapped sideways to the floor in a spray of red.

  Of his companions, only one remained standing. Screaming, he ran for the archway, desperate to escape the mayhem. He headed straight for Van Bam, and the illusionist braced himself. But before the henchman got too close, Macy delivered a wicked punch to his temple. By the snapping sound that followed, it was obvious his neck had broken. He was dead before he hit the floor.

  The fight had lasted less than a minute. In the sudden stillness of the aftermath, Macy spoke, not even sounding out of breath. ‘Van Bam, you and Samuel go and find Llewellyn. Me and Bryant will stay here and watch your backs.’

  ‘You are sure?’ said Van Bam. ‘Once I leave the room, my illusion will no longer conceal you.’

  ‘Then you’d best be quick,’ Bryant said. His green skeleton pointed to the closed door behind the body of the young henchman Samuel had shot. ‘Van Bam, Llewellyn’s through there, in Pittman’s bedroom.’

  Van Bam found the door unlocked. Samuel led the way out of the drawing room, and they left the twins and the carnage behind.

  They ascended a short flight of stairs to a narrow corridor that ended at another closed door.

  ‘Samuel, wait,’ Van Bam whispered.

  On the floor, stones had been placed at even spaces against the wall on either side of the corridor. They were the same size and shape as tin cans, and each was engraved with an identical rune symbol that glowed faint blue. The symbols faced each other across the floor, and Van Bam knew what they were, though it had been some time since he had last seen one. They were Aelfirian warning stones, made by the magic-users from a House called Web of Rock – a House that had sided with Spiral in the war. At one time, these stones had been cheap and popular security devices, readily available in Labrys Town. If the space between the rune symbols was broken then a warning signal would be sent to some kind of receiver device undoubtedly in the possession of Pittman, and he would be alerted to the intrusion.

  Fortunately, although the stones were imbued with Aelfirian magic, they were simple devices, easily overcome. Once again whispering to his illusionist magic, Van Bam amplified its effects through the green glass cane. Silently, two mirrors appeared on either side of the corridor and stretched its length in front of the glowing runes. He and Samuel continued on between the mirrors and made it to the door at the other end without detection.

  Samuel grabbed the handle. His skeletal form paused for a heartbeat before opening the door to Pittman’s bedroom.

  Inside, a doctor in a white coat stood before a four poster bed. By the way his pen hovered over the clipboard in his hand, the opening of the door had disturbed his note-taking. He blinked through thick spectacle lenses as the door closed again, clearly confused that no one had entered the room. He gave a quick grunt as Samuel stepped up behind him and smacked the butt of his pistol neatly across the back of his head. He crumpled to Samuel’s feet and lay motionless.

  ‘Watch the door,’ Van Bam told his fellow agent. He then approached the bed to gaze down at the patient who lay there.

  The henchmen had not exaggerated when they had spoken of the condition of Mr Pittman’s cousin.

  Llewellyn’s right arm was missing from the shoulder, as was his right leg from the knee down. Both wounds had been cauterised. Bloodied bandages were wrapped around his torso. The left side of his face had been gouged; his teeth exposed through missing cheek flesh. His left eye had been ripped away, along with the socket, and parts of his skull could be seen through what remained of his hair. The pillow under his head was wet and red. If not for the slow rise and fall of his chest, no one would have supposed that Llewellyn still lived.

  A number of needles had been inserted into his body and remaining limbs. A hair-thin copper wire ran from each needle to converge into the base of a small box that hung from a stand beside the bed. Like the warning stones outside, the box held a faint blue glow.

  Van Bam has seen Angel use a medical device such as this before; the magic in the box would block pain, keep a patient coherent for a time, but it would not heal wounds. It was the only thing keeping Llewellyn’s otherwise dead body functioning.

  It was then that Van Bam noticed Llewellyn was awake. His remaining eye was open a crack and moving from side to side.

  ‘Is someone there?’ he said. Although his voice wheezed, he gave no indication that he felt pain, and his awareness seemed clear and bright. The box was doing its job. ‘Carrick, is that you? Please tell me everything went as planned.’

  Van Bam dropped the illusion of invisibility and he appeared standing at the foot of the bed.

  ‘Oh!’ Llewellyn’s eye widened slightly, and then narrowed shrewdly. ‘Well then … With magic like that, you must be the Resident’s man.’ He took a shuddering breath. It became clear that he was paralysed from the neck down. ‘That can’t be good for Carrick.’

  ‘Your associate is dead,’ Van Bam told him.

  The man in the bed tried to laugh, but only managed a long wheeze. ‘Of course he is.’

  ‘Quicker, Van Bam,’ Samuel hissed from over by the door. ‘Get this over with before Pittman finds us.’

  ‘Oh, there’s two of you, is there?’ said Llewellyn. ‘Don’t worry about Pittman – I’m useless to him with Carrick dead.’ He gave another wheeze that might have been an attempt at a sigh. ‘I never meant to get into the treasure hunting game,’ he said. ‘I’m a good denizen, really. I fell on hard times, but I knew the risks.’

  ‘Llewellyn,’ Van Bam said, ‘the artefact you brought into Labrys Town contained a virus. It killed everyone involved in the sale, but could have easily spread to the streets. Is that what you and Carrick intended?’

  Llewellyn made a noise that might have been a grunt of surprise. ‘Well,’ he said after a moment. ‘I suppose it’s too late to try and convince you I don’t know anything about that. But it’s the truth – it was just an old jar to me. And to Carrick, as far as I know.’

  ‘Tell us everything you do know, and we will help you.’

  ‘Oh, I doubt it.’ Llewellyn’s one eye rolled in its socket. ‘I know the Relic Guild well enough. You don’t let people like me see your faces unless you’re taking them to the Nightshade. And people like me don’t come out again, right?’

  ‘We will not take you to the Nightshade, Llewellyn. But you will tell us what we wish to know.’

  Llewellyn’s discoloured and swollen tongue licked his cracked lips. ‘Information, eh?’

  ‘Concerning the artefact and its buyer – yes.’

  ‘And what if I don’t talk?’ He tried and failed to laugh again. ‘Sorry to be a disappointment, but there’s really not a lot you boys can do to me now.’

  Van Bam glared at him. ‘You would be surprised.’

  Llewellyn’s eye sized him up. ‘Look, you know as well as me I’m already done for – that’s obvious – but when Pittman finds out I can’t pay my debts, he’ll keep me alive just to make me suffer, and I’ve suffered enough. So how about we make a deal?’

  ‘State your terms,’ Van Bam responded.

  ‘I’ll tell you what you want to know, and in return make it quick for me. Make it painless.’

  ‘Done!’ Samuel snapped. ‘Now come on, Van Bam!’

  But the illusionist remained compassionate and patient. The man in the bed should be dead already. With what little dignity remained to him, he was asking that his final end be without further suffering. Van Bam wouldn’t deny him that.

  ‘You have my word,’ Van Bam promised.

  Llewellyn paused. ‘Then I suppose that’ll have to be good enough,’ he said. ‘So, you want to know who Carrick’s b
uyer was, right?’

  ‘And where the artefact came from, yes.’

  ‘Well, the first part is easy to answer. The buyer was an Aelf from House Mirage.’

  ‘Mirage?’

  ‘Yeah, there’s a bunch of them living out in the western district – refugees who got stuck here when the war started.’

  ‘Yes, I know who you mean.’

  ‘I got to know one of them, a man called Ursa. We used to drown our sorrows together down Green Glass Row. I suppose we were friends …’

  He trailed off as if suddenly saddened by the realisation his drinking partner was now dead.

  Van Bam said, ‘And you told this Ursa of the artefact?’

  ‘No – other way around.’ Llewellyn coughed weakly. ‘One day he asked me if I knew any good treasure hunters, said he knew where a priceless relic was hidden – some urn containing the ashes of some Aelfirian ancestor or other. He’d pay enough for it to solve everyone’s money problems, he said. But he never mentioned anything about a virus.’

  Interesting, thought Van Bam: until now he had supposed it was Carrick who had found the terracotta jar and then arranged a buyer. ‘So you introduced Ursa to Carrick.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Llewellyn. ‘Carrick has a lot of contacts. He knew who to bribe to gain passage out of town and into the Great Labyrinth. Don’t ask me who. If he’s dead, he took his contact list to the grave. But part of the deal was I went with Carrick’s team. Insurance, Ursa said.’

  ‘Where?’ said Van Bam. ‘In which House was the artefact found?’

  Llewellyn coughed again, and this time blood spattered his lips and chin. He took a deep breath. ‘The Icicle Forest, Ursa called it. I’d never heard of it before. Nor had Carrick.’

  And nor had Van Bam. He looked at Samuel guarding the door, but his fellow agent shrugged, just as clueless.

  ‘The Icicle Forest,’ he echoed. ‘You are sure this is the correct House, Llewellyn?’

  ‘I’m not likely to forget it.’ Llewellyn swallowed blood. ‘Six of us went with Carrick. We found the relic all right, but … by the Timewatcher, I’ve never known a place more savage. Evil. There are things there you wouldn’t believe. Things I don’t want to remember. I was the only one Carrick managed to bring back alive. Barely. Wish he hadn’t bothered. I’ve been hooked up like this ever since.’

  Van Bam followed the wires that connected the patient to the box of glowing light. ‘Llewellyn, I need you to tell me the House symbol for the Icicle Forest.’

  ‘I don’t know it. Ursa was so secretive about that symbol. Protective, you know? He would only show it to Carrick. Even then Carrick wasn’t allowed to write it down. He had to memorise it. And … And that’s all I know.’

  ‘That’s all we need,’ Samuel said coldly. He used his pistol to point in the general direction of the bed. ‘You want me to do this, Van Bam?’

  Van Bam raised a disappointed eyebrow at his fellow agent and shook his head.

  What was left of Llewellyn’s face showed only unquestionable honesty, as it had throughout the interrogation. There really was nothing else he could help the Relic Guild with.

  With a sigh, Van Bam moved around to the side of the bed to stand next to the box from which the copper wires ran to the needles puncturing the remains of Llewellyn. The blue glow of the magic within the medical device dulled almost imperceptibly, as if sensing its services were no longer required.

  Van Bam looked down at the ruined man in the bed. ‘Thank you,’ he said.

  Llewellyn gave a slow smile. ‘Quick and painless, right?’

  Van Bam reached out and grabbed the wires where they converged into the box.

  ‘Wait!’

  Van Bam paused, but did not relax his fist.

  ‘I … I saw a Thaumaturgist once, from a distance,’ Llewellyn told him. ‘I really never meant anything bad to happen. I mean – the Thaumaturgists would know that, wouldn’t they?’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘Do you believe the Timewatcher can really see me from Mother Earth?’

  Van Bam averted his eyes. ‘Yes,’ he whispered. ‘I believe.’

  ‘Then you believe the Thaumaturgists will guide my spirit to Her? That She’ll forgive me?’

  Van Bam nodded. Once. ‘And I hope your journey is filled with some of the wonders I have seen. Goodbye, Llewellyn.’

  He pulled every wire from the box with one yank. As the blue glow extinguished, a last, gurgling sigh came from Llewellyn’s mouth.

  ‘Now can we leave?’ Samuel snapped.

  Marney and Denton rode the elevator within the Tower of the Skywatcher. The descent was made in silence. She had no more tears to weep, she no longer felt overawed. Of course, Denton’s empathy had been an immense help in stabilising Marney’s emotions, but the calm that had settled on her now had little to do with magic. The truth was she didn’t know how to feel. Perhaps her mind was unable to process the immensity of the things she had seen. Maybe she was in a state of denial. After such an intense experience, Marney just couldn’t comprehend why she was feeling nothing but this eerie, all-encompassing apathy.

  As if sensing her confusion, Denton gave her a smile that was at once understanding and contemplative.

  ‘It’s not unusual to feel strangely empty after spending time in Lady Amilee’s observatory,’ he said. ‘Even for empaths. It can take time to understand and accept the true magnitude of our duties. Seeing is believing, Marney.’

  She frowned at him. ‘So the difference between knowing a thing and experiencing it is, what – faith?’

  ‘I like to think so – others might disagree. But you, Marney, now have the space and freedom to come to terms with what you have seen. To decide for yourself what it means to you.’

  He gave a small chuckle. ‘I’ve often wondered if we have all seen the same visions, or if Lady Amilee has shown each of us something different.’ His face became serious and he looked to the floor. ‘Our colleagues in the Relic Guild won’t ask you of your experience, Marney, and it is important that you never ask them of theirs. Understand?’

  Marney wasn’t sure she did understand, but she got the impression that Denton had one particular agent in mind.

  She didn’t want to think about it anymore, and gave affirmation with a silent nod.

  ‘So what now?’ she said. ‘We go back to the Labyrinth?’

  ‘In a while,’ Denton replied. He tapped his rolled up hat against his hand. ‘The Skywatcher isn’t quite done with us yet, Marney.’

  The elevator stopped. Its doors swished open, and Marney followed Denton out into a hall that surrounded the elevator’s glass shaft. It was smaller than the reception hall at the lowest level of the tower, but far more welcoming. The floor was tiled with light brown marble, veined with a rich golden colour; the walls were painted cream, soft beneath the warm light of huge ceiling prisms. Three closed doors were set into each wall, and beside them ornaments and flowers sat upon decorative pedestals of dark grey stone.

  Less welcoming, however, was the Aelfirian aide, Alexander, whose overly large eyes glared at the Relic Guild agents. Once again, he was flanked by two intimidating automaton sentries.

  ‘This way,’ he said curtly. He turned to head off for the centre door on the far wall while the automatons waited for the visitors to follow.

  As they did so, Marney’s irritation rose. You know, I’d really like to pull that stick out of his—

  Now, now, Marney, Denton thought back with a hint of amusement. I know you’ve been through an ordeal, but you should have learnt by now that not everyone you meet in life will be agreeable.

  The Aelf led them to a chamber that was decorated by twists and folds of satin which gave the appearance of ice pillars in a frozen cave. Floor and ceiling, and every wall, the room was entirely draped in clean white. Lady Amilee waited for them as they ent
ered, standing between two cloth pillars, her expression gentle.

  ‘Thank you, Alexander,’ she said to her aide. ‘You may leave us now.’

  With a quick bow, the small and smartly-dressed Aelf left the chamber with the automatons in tow and closed the door behind him. Marney was glad to see him leave, even more than she appreciated the automatons’ departure.

  Amilee’s silver wings and diaphanous gown were now covered by robes of deep purple that were in stark contrast to the room’s whiteness, as was the black diamond tattooed onto her forehead. She stood regally. Floating in the air beside her was the small terracotta jar the Relic Guild had found at Chaney’s Den.

  Amilee blinked her tawny eyes once, slowly. ‘Master Denton, it is pleasing to see you again. You have been well, I trust?’

  With his hat in hand, Denton gave an affectionate smile. ‘Oh, I can’t deny that I occasionally feel the long years creeping up on me, my Lady, but I always feel rejuvenated in your beautiful realm.’

  ‘Ah, spoken like a true gentleman.’

  Something Denton had said earlier suddenly dawned on Marney. She wasn’t the first Relic Guild agent her mentor had brought to the Tower of the Skywatcher. Marney was the youngest agent of the guild, and Van Bam was the next in line. That meant the last time Denton was here it had probably been so her lover could be shown Lady Amilee’s visions. What had he seen? Was it Van Bam whom the old empath was referring to when he said that Marney must not question her fellow agents?

  Marney realised that Lady Amilee’s gaze was upon her. Although she seemed pleased with what she saw, her expression had become a little more serious.

  ‘I wish this meeting could be taking place in happier times, but as it is, we have matters to discuss.’ She motioned to the terracotta jar hanging in the air beside her. ‘It troubles me that this artefact could be smuggled into Labrys Town without my noticing. Tell me what you know of it?’

  Amilee put the question directly to Marney, but because she was so used to everyone addressing Denton first and foremost, she was flummoxed for a moment.

  ‘Ah … we … very little, my-my Lady.’