Black City (The Lark Case Files)

by Christian Read

  'You call when you need. I don't like dreaming so much I need to do it forever. I can't die? Might as well not be dead.'

  Gone.

  Bye Bettina. I wish I understood you. But no more time to rub salt.

  OK. Dial a number.

  Eighty

  Good to be on the street, not having to hide. Maybe what's left of the Old Man's organisation will come for me, but not yet. Under the bridge, they'll be at each other's throat, looking to take the reins. I'll deal with who's left.

  Maybe the hippie will try again, too. But I don't get that lucky twice.

  Leg is too fucked up to walk all the way. Money from the account, which is too low. Cab's a luxury, but I need it.

  Public place.

  Outside Town Hall, there's a fountain and a statue of a man in a cloak and a wig, looking sternly to the rest of the country, north. He's underlit and stern. I like him.

  Agent Coffee and Agent Valier meet me there. They sit on either side.

  I hand her the scroll.

  She hands me the money. It's quite a bit.

  'You look like you've been in the wars,' says Coffee. 'Someone really gave you a nasty few love taps, right?' He's right. Under my eye, the bruise is black and blue and green and hurts like a bastard. It'll fade. Everything does.

  'Last night was a bad night. Everyone's reporting bad dreams. Things got out, into the world that maybe shouldn't have. Did you watch the news?' That's Valier.

  I smoke one Bettina bought me and say nothing.

  Agent Coffee starts in.

  'I got to tell you guy, that was a strange night. I dreamt my grandfather was coming after me but instead of a head, he just had jaws. Big as a head. I haven't been that scared since I was a little kid. Why don't you tell me what you got up to after you called?'

  Shut them up. Get to the point.

  'I watched a man try to steal the powers from an entity outside our spacetime. He failed and in the aftermath, someone became a God.'

  They stare at each other.

  'That's a pretty weird thing to say, Lark.'

  I shrug.

  'So, that's twenty-five thousand dollars. We'll need you to sign for it.' He's brought a clipboard. He's not actually kidding.

  I shake my head and he shrugs and grins at me, like he wasn't a government agent. 'Hey, can't blame a guy for trying, right?'

  'Shut up.' Done with him.

  'Hey no need for that! I was thinking maybe we were close to a relationship.'

  I turn to Valier.

  'Listen, last night was the biggest night I've ever seen. Things went down like never happened in my lifetime. But the players and the plays have changed. There's something in the world now, something new. And under the bridge, there's going to be trouble. If you want to see some shit go down, go there.'

  I get up to go. I really don't have anything else to say, but Valier has a few words.

  'You want a job?'

  'I don't really see myself as the spook type. I wasn't really great at sports or language, or communicating, and it turns out, I was never as good at being on a team as I thought.'

  She shakes her head.

  'Not suggesting an office gig. You'd be what we call an asset.'

  'Flattering.'

  'It means that I'd pay you for leads, for introductions, for information. You'd be like a consultant.'

  'No.'

  'You'd also be helping your nation.'

  How do I explain to her that I'd be out of this place if I could? I don't.

  'But I can't imagine that'd mean much to a man like you.'

  'A man like me? Guess not. Agent.'

  'But we'd share information with you, as well.'

  That's tempting. But no. That'd be a one-way street. Not even sure it's a good idea to be talking to spooks in the first place. Guys like this spend too much time monitoring student unions and radical bookshops and dudes with weird surnames for the likes of me. Once they have you, they keep you. Let's shut down their thinking and cut this cord.

  'You can't weaponise it. The scroll. The stuff like the scroll. The things you're getting a glimpse at. You can't train it to soldiers. It's not a science. It's like an art. Do your research, Agent Valier. Track down what you can. Put together a picture. Make reports to whoever you have to. It's not like anything you've seen, but I think you're starting to understand that you're in a whole new context. Walk away. Chase down union leaders and guys who think God has plans that involve pipe-bombs.'

  She stands.

  'I just want to help people.'

  'People involved in this, they don't want help.'

  I limp away.

  Eighty-One

  The end of the week, the doctor has come around and wants my leg x-rayed. Recommends I get a crutch, but fuck that.

  I write up a report to Scarlet, leaving out a few things I'd rather keep private, mainly stuff about Bettina. And the Hollow. I couldn't even write that out if I tried. Still raw.

  I email it to her. Email my invoice to her assistant. He'll like getting those funds together.

  A week goes by. Sunday night, I take a job. Guy's home movies from when he was a kid, suddenly he can see monsters at his birthday party. I play the tapes. See them too. Hypnotise him and find out his dad had some strange ideas for what made good friends for his kids. Bring him out. Tell him that he'd best have a chat with his dad. Tell him something's changed. His psychic sensor has switched off. Freaks out. Tells me not to be stupid. Yells. I ask for some money and he pays me. Guess that night of bad dreams did have a real effect after all.

  I pay formal thanks to the Omegamantis and the Ultrascorpions, bringing up tequila for them, playing their favourite music. I give the one who died a memorial service, sketching him out on a piece of paper, anointing it with oils. Burning it to say goodbye.

  Always act like there's significance. Show the magic you take it serious, treat the Ultrascorpions with respect, they'll treat you the same way.

  Life settles. The bruises start to ease away. I ice the leg and hip. I answer some mail.

  It's all an anti-climax, isn't it? I pass people on the street and sort of wonder why they don't demand the story from me.

  Then, one afternoon, the phone rings and Scarlet asks if I'm free.

  She comes in the early evening.

  There's snow in her hair. Winter has started for real. She's got it cut again. Her earrings are expensive and I don't pick up on the rest of the jewellery until it's too late. She's wearing a black overcoat and a black suit and she looks amazing. She wears her spectacles, which I love.

  She's bought a bottle of gin and a bottle of tonic. Puts it on my desk. The expensive kind.

  'This is a thank you. Personal one.'

  I try to smile but the cheek is still a bit too sore for it.

  She reaches across. Touches it with cold fingers and for a second, I'm happy enough to die. Breaking it, she leans back.

  'Jesus. That's looks better but it still looks terrible. Does it hurt much?'

  Yes.

  'Nah, it's not so bad, really.'

  From her coat, she takes out two envelopes. Puts the thick one on my desk.

  'A deal's a deal'.

  'Stay for a drink.'

  She glances at her watch.

  'One drink.'

  I pour and mix. 'No limes,' I say. She prefers limes in her gin. Got no lemons, either.

  She takes one out of her pocket and I slice them up with an old switchblade in my desk. She brought a lime. I'm remarkably cheered by that fact.

  'I saw the girl. I went to see Mully. He's looking after her, but he's going to have her put into a home for people like her. It's a good place, where she'll be looked after.'

  'You know what she is?'

  'Not really. We think her spirit is gone but... where?'

  I want to show off. I want to tell her that I helped a God come into the world. A real power. But I remember Everett in the car and her turning her gaze from me outside a restaurant and I jus
t shrug. I'm not quite ready to forgive all that.

  'Rosengarten, he thinks your report is amazing. He still worships you.'

  Laugh through my nose. He hated me.

  'He wants to use it as a case file for the adepts to study.'

  'But you don't think so. You keep things in-house.'

  'The Library is important, Lark.'

  We've had this discussion and it ends in shouting. Not today.

  'What did you think of it? My report. The whole case.'

  'I think you always risk too much to get an answer. You should have brought us in earlier. But, it was a good job. And bringing down the Old Man, that's... It's good work.'

  She smiles at me for the first time in two years. My heart breaks.

  Then I spoil it all. Because I have to know.

  'There's just one problem with it all, Scarlet. The scroll came into the country more than twenty years ago. Not long after the first Gulf War if I'm not mistaken. The Gallowglass had it for that long, never really wanting to know what was in it. For them, ownership was magic, control was power. Then, one day, the Old Man just strikes after it.'

  I drink. Light up.

  'So how did he know it was there? Who'd know the Gallowglass wouldn't even open it, knowing they gained power through perceived dollar values? They got more power just having it than using it, according to their theology. So who could have known it was there? Who could have known the Old Man's motives, that he'd risk everything if it meant he could get access to a entity as powerful and vulnerable as an Archon? Who could have known he'd actually be dangerous enough to have a chance?'

  Her smile slowly fades.

  'And who'd know to put me on the job, knowing I wouldn't stop until I'd gone after the Old Man?'

  Glancing at her watch. 'I have to go.'

  'Scarlet, you leaked it to the Old Man. You started the whole cult war. You put me on the front line. Got the shit beaten out of me twice. Nearly got Bettina killed. Cost that girl Wick a shot at living a life. Got the Bleak Electors killed. Got the Gallowglass killed.'

  I lean in.

  'Why?'

  She takes a long breath in. Then, see this on her face plain, she decides to stop fucking around.

  'Since you and the Hollow left, the Library has been falling apart. You've been working small cases for citizens and minor cults because we've been funnelling them to you. Heading off the bad ones, the ones we didn't want you to see. Because we wanted them ourselves. Because the organisation doesn't like a rogue.

  'And because I didn't give the order to have you killed like a lot of people wanted.'

  That's new. I feel the anger spreading on my face. She's kept me from work these years. She's kept me alive not because she doesn't want me dead but because I'm useful.

  An asset.

  'But. Listen.'

  'Alright.'

  'Listen, things are getting bad out there. The magic is acting wilder. There's more and more entities slipping into the world than ever before and we do. not. know. why. There's more dangerous cults growing up than you'd guess. And the Old Man was just the worst of a bad bunch. And you can't know this because we keep it from you.

  'And, Lark, we can't take care of it our self. The Library, since you and Jon left, it's not the same. You never trained anyone. You left us high and dry because you and me broke up. And that's a selfish, stupid thing to do.'

  'You left before I walked away. I didn't leave just because of us. And if I did... that's only a part of it.'

  'It doesn't matter. Would you join because I asked you? And would you come back for the right reasons? And if you did, would it be because you wanted me?'

  Maybe. Stay quiet.

  'And because I only have fucking idiots like Connor and Raj to rely on, who are in turn training idiots, things are snowballing. Whatever is going on in the city, we should have tracked down and ended. Whatever is letting more and more monsters in, whatever is inspiring more psychos with a grimoire into the city, we can't find and can't stop and that's making us look weak.

  'And in turn, that's encouraging old cults to act out.'

  She screws her courage into her face and looks at me with those electrical eyes.

  'Yeah. So I leaked the scroll to the Old Man. We'd known for years. Ever since I got promoted, I'd known. And I wanted to do something fierce. Something to let the rebels and the monsters know to keep in line. Keep in line or the Library would fuck them up.

  'And I put you in front of the bullet because I'd hoped you'd still be as good as you were.'

  'You put me through that, to keep your rep.'

  'Yeah.' She looks away, finally.

  'And you know what? Tonight, everyone's talking about how the Library took out the terror of the city, the Old Man, the devil himself. I'm going to make sure Rosengarten and the others look like the heroes. I'm going to spread the word they came in, saved your arse, and then they took out the Old Man. You're going to look like you bit off more than you could chew. You, Lark, who they're all still afraid of. You're going to look bad so the Library can look good until I can make them good.'

  I'm sort of falling down inside myself now.

  'I'll have old enemies coming out of the woodwork, Scarlet.'

  'Yeah. And unless you join us, you'll probably get taken out by one of them. But you'll never join. Not for the right reasons. You'd join for me. Never for loyalty. Because you think we're police.'

  'You are fucking police. I was tired of it and I still am.'

  Yelling. 'We are police! Something bad is coming and I don't trust anyone else in this city but us to take care of it! And I used you to give us time to do it in.'

  'Scarlet.'

  'No. Be quiet. Because it gets worse and it's time I told you the truth.' Fury rises up.

  'Alright.'

  'And knowing you wouldn't join for the right reasons, knowing you wouldn't be loyal to something, knowing you're stubborn and proud and unable to commit to something bigger than you, I let it play out. I know the only reason you would work with the Library would be for me. And I'm committed to something you don't like. That's why I set you on the Old Man and it's why I've exposed you to danger to come.'

  She calms down.

  'And I don't want you.'

  Scarlet takes the envelope, the second envelope from her pocket and my name is written on it. Calligraphy.

  'I want the Library. And I want my relationships to be safe from anyone who could hurt my standing in the Library or it's security. I want to make a difference.'

  Deep, ragged breath. Once, that meant she was fighting tears. Not now.

  'Lark, I'm glad you're alive. I think you did a fine job. But I'm going to use you anyway. And I'm not sorry for the danger I've put you in because I need you to be in it, not us. We need to be heroes.'

  Gets up. 'I wasn't going to give you that, but I think you need to see it. Everett made me make it because he's the kind of man who includes people. And I made it because I knew you wouldn't come.

  Lark. Don't come. I don't want you there on the day.

  And don't contact me. Not for help. Not for anything. If the Library requires your services, I'll have someone contact you.'

  Turns. Walks out. Looks at me.

  'Good luck, Lark. It's nothing personal.'

  That's what hurts the most. It really, really isn't.

  I open the envelope.

  It's an invitation to her wedding to Everett.

  Light up. Her jewellery. Gold band on her finger.

  Think. Think my way out of this. There's got to be an angle to play... no.

  Nothing more to be done. Soon, someone will be coming, looking to make me pay for a bully-boy decision I made in a life I regret. They'll come for revenge or spite or justice. But they'll come.

  But not now. Not tonight. From my window I watch her kiss her fiancé and then they get into the car and go. I see her tracks in the snow.

  So tonight, I do the one thing I can.

  Go upstairs. Draw a ru
ne I've seen so many times in the last few days I'm sick of it. Stare, enter a meditation so heavy I'm thinking through honey. Not feeling. Dead shut down. The Black Mirror, go into it, looking for what's changed in the isolation of the Black City. Her runes are here, too, vibrating white on imperial black.

  Soon, she comes.

  Oh hey, you're the guy who likes my work. I'm glad we can talk.

  New God in the Black City.