by Tim Paulson
“So I'm coming right back?”
Risha nodded. “Of course.”
Celia shrugged. “Where are we going?”
It turned out to be quite a walk, all the way to the canal that separated the dierlijt sections of Valendam from the humans. Standing in the snow ahead were several men, all were armed.
“So what are we negotiating?” Celia asked.
“The price,” Risha replied, her long pink tongue licked along thick bone-crushing teeth.
“Of what?”
“Of you,” Risha replied. “Grab her.”
Clawed hands snatched her upper arms from each side. They dragged her forward toward the waiting men. As they got closer Celia recognized one of them. It was the captain from the morning's heist.
“As I told, we found her hiding in one of our warehouses,” Risha said to the men.
“Is this the girl?” asked the man in front. His uniform identified him as a watch captain but Celia would have known from the self-satisfied expression alone. They all had that look.
The captain stepped forward. “Yes indeed. This surely is the girl. She distracted my men by acting the harlot while her conspirators stole our goods.”
The watch captain nodded to a man to his left. “Jenson, cuff her.”
“And make sure you note they took four crates of Portalese ham. It's an incredible loss.”
“Yes yes... I'll write it in my report. The insurance will have no choice but to pay,” the watch captain replied, holding out his hand.
“Yes, of course,” the merchant captain said, pulling a bag of coin from a pocket of his officer's overcoat which he dropped into the other man's hand.
Celia shook her head, disgusted. “You just bribe each other in broad daylight then? That's how it's done among the genteel is it?”
They ignored her.
The man with the cuffs was close. Celia waited until the ranker on her right was just getting ready to let go of her arm and jerked, hard. The force was just enough to cause the creature to bump into the watchman, who yelped. Pistols and swords were drawn.
"No!” Risha yelled, almost snarling. “Do not shoot.”
The commotion was just what Celia had hoped for. Her right arm had been freed so she swung around, twirling behind the hyena-creature to her left, reaching for and yanking her tail. The ranker yelped loudly, releasing Celia's left arm.
“Calm your companions immediately!” The watch captain yelled. “Or I will use this pistol and put them down.”
Celia made a break for the nearest alley. If she could escape, maybe she could get back to the clen before they knew she'd been sold. Maybe the rest hadn't been told about Risha's plan. She had to get back. Vex was there and he was alone.
Claws dug into the flesh of her back.
Celia screamed as she was lifted into the air by her dirty jumpsuit. Risha had managed to snatch her before she'd gotten four steps.
“No!” Celia cried. “He's alone! You can't!”
Risha slammed her to the ground, knocking the air from her lungs. Celia wheezed. Cuffs were put on her wrists and chains on her legs. Then she was kicked by solid leather boots. Once. Twice. A third time. She curled into a ball, trying to protect herself. Then something hard cracked against her skull and all went dark.
Chapter 4
“Veil is a dangerous poison, to be shunned by all women and men of God. The foul substance entreats men to do evil and has brought nought but ill to the continent. That is to say nothing of the vile rumors regarding its creation.”
-Reverend Melissa Stout, Luddite preacher, from a speech in Vuchen, 1617
The singing of the morning psalms could be heard echoing through the vaulted halls as Chester Buckley, followed by Aaron, turned a corner and descended into the lower floors of the Tian cathedral of Valendam. Down five flights of stone stairs, worn smooth by centuries of traffic from simply clad monks and priests.
On the sixth floor, however, Aaron noticed immediately that things had changed. Unlike above, where globes of orange light emanated from oil lamps, here the illumination was the cool bluish-white of Veil. There were other changes as well. Long steel cables ran along the floors and various mechanical contraptions lined the walls as did trays of instruments, many of them looked... surgical. There were also drains in the floors here and grooves that ran along the walls to funnel liquids into those drains. It reminded Aaron very much of the surgical college at the Institute, only this was hidden beneath the largest church in the city. Why?
Buckley strode down the hall with confidence. He knew exactly where he was going. This was odd because Aaron had noticed the man becoming increasingly anxious since the formation of the republic months ago, almost paranoid. He'd been taking Aaron with him everywhere he went. To his home, out to tour Veil Company facilities, even the apartments where he kept his many women.
This place was new however. That meant something. Whatever Buckley had here, it was important enough that he'd risked death to avoid drawing attention to it. Until today.
They continued down the hall to another. Still, the blue veil light prevailed as they turned once, then again. They arrived at a closed steel door. Buckley knocked and the viewing hole opened, followed by the door. The person who'd opened it, a female monk it appeared, immediately barred the door behind them with a thick bar of steel.
Finally, they approached a wider hall with a series of doors. Here another monk stood as if waiting for them. He was older than the others but with a shaved head and face like all the rest. His hands were clasped together under his simple brown robes. Only his age and bearing gave any indication that he might be more important than those they'd seen so far.
“Mr. Buckley, we are pleased to enjoy your company,” he said.
“Where's Vivian?” Buckley asked.
“Room seventeen.”
Buckley started forward but the monk reached out quickly. “I would not. Doctor Blutstein is in the middle of a very delicate experiment.”
Buckley sneered. “That's always the case. It's been a month since I've heard anything. I won't wait any longer.”
The monk stepped aside. “As you wish.”
Buckley did wish. He barged ahead and Aaron followed. They passed multiple doors, all made of metal. None were open but all had viewing windows at the top that could be opened from the outside. When they came to the one labeled seventeen Buckley did not open the port, nor did he hesitate like Aaron wanted him to. No, he gripped the metal loop that served as the door handle and pulled, but before he could enter. A woman in the clothing of a surgeon came out. A vast amount of blood stained the front of her light blue gown and gloves as if she'd just finished butchering a pig.
Buckley backed into the hallway. “Well, it's about time.”
The woman removed a mask topped with veil goggles. “Chester. It's good to see you,” she said.
“Is it? Because I haven't heard a peep from you in months,” Buckley replied.
The woman shrugged. “My work is... delicate. It takes time to get results. You know that. I explained it to you.”
“Have you learned anything at all?”
“Hmmm?” she asked, her eyes had moved to Aaron. “My God look at him.” She turned to Buckley. “Is this the one?”
“Of course it is! How many golden-eyed golems do you see walking the streets, really Vivian.”
“And there's a man in there?” she asked, walking a slow circle around Aaron.
“Yes... there was anyway. I don't know if any of his flesh survived. If you'd seen the transformation you'd understand. It was messy.”
The doctor pulled off her bloody gloves, dropping them on a tray near the wall and put a hand on Aaron's stone chest. Then she leaned in, placing her ear on it.
“Nothing. Fascinating,” she turned back toward Buckley. “And he does whatever you say?”
“He murdered a man this morning after smashing through a reinforced door and dispatching two hired men.”
Vivian turned back
, staring into Aaron's golden eyes. “You're beautiful,” she said, stroking her fingers along his chest.
“Are you any closer to duplicating something like this?”
Vivian laughed. “No. Not even close. I've been pulling witches apart for more than a decade now. We've learned a lot here... but not nearly enough,” she said.
Buckley kicked a metal stand next to the door, sending a set of surgical instruments cascading to the floor. “Damn it! You don't understand. I need a way to control or destroy that creature. He's making things now.”
“More golems for your army?” Vivian asked, not taking her eyes from Aaron.
“No... and that's another thing! He says those are his and... Well, he's looking for someone or something. When he finds it he's threatened to leave and take everything.”
“That will put a damper on your invasion of the continent,” Vivian said.
“Precisely. I'm at my wit's end.”
“What has he been making?” she asked. She'd moved around behind Aaron again. Her hands were touching his back, his legs, feeling at the joints between the various chunks of rock that made up his body.
“Some flying things. They look like little pyramids. He makes about one a day, then it floats up and flies off.”
“In the same direction?”
“No, it's different every time.”
The woman nodded. The movement of her thin blonde hair made Aaron notice that quite a bit of blood had been splattered into it. “Well, he's definitely looking for something. Is there any way you can prevent him from finding it?”
“I don't know. When the things return he's asked me to notify him.”
“Hmmm, so they don't automatically know where he is, interesting. They do have limits then.”
“He threatened me, Vivian. If I disobey him, he'll torture me.”
“How terrible,” she said. “Can you have him bend down?”
Buckley gestured that Aaron should bend over. Aaron obeyed.
“Those eyes are magnificent, very like the veil stones we use for goliath's eyes, only better. I bet he can see things we can't even imagine.”
“What should I do Vivian?”
She sighed. “I'd say the prudent thing is to destroy those things as soon as they return and just make sure he doesn't find out.”
“I don't even know if that's possible,” Buckley replied. “None have yet returned, thankfully.”
Vivian raised an eyebrow. “Many impossible things have been achieved by my family Chester. That excuse will not hold water with me.”
Buckley crossed his arms. “I suppose you're right.”
“Of course I am. How are my father's plans going?”
Buckley smiled. “That is one piece of good news. The fifth portal went online last week in the new facility in Teppel. Production is greater than it has ever been. Honestly, the biggest problem is that they have to be located so far from one another.”
“The northland must be reclaimed from the Ganex.”
Buckley gestured dismissively. “That's already underway. With Narael's goliaths, we'll crush the Imperial army at Aeyrdfeld and push them right back to Magenberg. The printers have been instructed to chalk it all up to the power of our newly elected republic.”
Both of them laughed.
“If you give me a few days... I do have something I can show you, Chester. I've been working with the technical engineering department on that suggestion you had,” Vivian said.
“But that's not even your department!”
The doctor smiled. “A true scientist is a student of all fields.”
“You are a rare talent. I appreciate you. I'm sorry I barged down here,” Buckley said.
“It's fine,” she replied. “I enjoy our meetings.”
“Mr. Buckley...” it was the older monk from before.
“Yes?”
“There is something we would like discussed as well.”
“Oh? What would that be?” Buckley replied.
“Her eminence in Ganum has heard disturbing rumors,” the man licked his lips, pausing to choose his words carefully. “There is a thorn on the rose of the church. It must be removed for us to serve each other properly. We request your help with its elimination.”
“Is this thorn a person?” Buckley asked.
The monk looked distressed. “I was not told exactly. Except that it is... more of a thing than a person.”
“Some kind of creature then? Like a griffin?”
“Her eminence asks for military assistance. We are currently working to determine its whereabouts. When its hiding place is discovered, we ask your indulgence.”
“The pope already has a fleet larger than Scarosia and Calacia combined as well as more than two hundred of our best goliaths... What more will she need?”
“I apologize. The instructions I received were... vague. I am only required to ask for your pledge. Fifty goliaths, forty additional tons of veil powder, and at least two siege cannons will be necessary. As well as safe passage through any territories controlled by the republic.”
Buckley waved his hand. “Of course. The agreement between us is not in jeopardy over some creature. You've been providing the raw material for our operations since the beginning. I'm not in the habit of frustrating my suppliers.”
“May God's grace be yours,” the monk said, bowing his head.
“And yours as well,” Buckley replied formally.
Aaron watched the small bald man leave through his perfect golden eyes. Raw material? But what?
* * *
Giselle and Ina had entered the door Piotr disappeared into and found themselves in a hidden tavern. Though it had no sign outside to indicate its presence or what its name was, a tavern it was, the smell of alcohol alone was enough to know. Humans and dierlijt of all descriptions sat at dark tables and booths all around the establishment's main common room. There were keralti, akkikul, owahpi, even a large leothan who sat alone in a dark booth. On one side of the room was an enormous hearth where a human minstrel was currently playing a half lute, her dark braided hair swinging back and forth with each strum of the strings.
“Where is he?” Giselle asked. There were several similar-looking weaselmen and sadly, she found it hard to tell the difference between them.
Ina rolled her eyes. “This way,” she said, heading right toward a corner booth where a weaselman, presumably Piotr, sat alone.
When they sat down his long neck leaned in and Giselle fought the urge to rear back in disgust.
“Why are you coming here lady Giselle?” Piotr asked.
“We're getting medicine for my mother-” Ina started but Piotr held up his hand.
“I know why you are here little one. I am asking the lady why she is here.”
Giselle looked down at her hands, clasped on the wooden table. “Because Ina is my friend. I want to help her.”
Piotr's beady black eyes looked at her, blinking twice before he replied. “I see. This is good.”
“Do you know where the apothecary is?” Ina asked.
Piotr nodded slowly. “Yes yes. I am knowing this. Her name is Elzbieta, is my cousin.”
“Oh... well that's helpful. Kindly direct us-” Giselle asked.
“Ah! Not so fast you are. Business between us,” Piotr pointed at Giselle. “You and Piotr.”
Giselle narrowed her eyes. “Thank you for saving my life? Is that what you want?”
He crossed his arms.
“He saved your life? How can you still hate them?” Ina asked.
“It's complicated. He didn't really save me, he just delayed my attacker, that horrible bard I told you about.”
Piotr's eyes flared and he bared his tiny, but still very sharp, teeth. “I nearly died there. Bard stabbed me many times. I hope very much he did not survive.”
“Celia told me a ghoul ate him,” Ina said. “I heard it was gruesome.”
“Good,” said Piotr. “Bard was real monster. Not like they say about us. Sure... It true
. I like stealing. Feels good. But hurt people who have not threatened me? Never.”
“Wonderful to know. Can you take us to your cousin?” Giselle asked. Would this conversation ever end?
Piotr pointed at her again, a sharp little claw aimed at her nose. “No. You owe me now. I paid debt from before. Now you pay debt to me.”
Giselle frowned. “What? No way. My mother healed me. That's who really saved my life.”
“Oh? That so?” Piotr replied.
Giselle leaned forward. “Yes. It is.”
Piotr reached into his shirt. As it opened Giselle saw a thick scar on his chest that marred the fur and a pang of guilt ran through her.
When Piotr's hand came out, he held Vex's bone necklace.
Giselle checked her own neck. It was gone!
“When did you steal that? Did you do it just now?”
Piotr shook his head, his long whiskers twitching. “No. I am seeing you in the market talking to rat seller. I am also seeing girl following you, staring at your necklace. I am thinking she wants it. So I steal before her.”
“Girl? What girl?” Giselle asked.
Piotr frowned. “A thief. Not important. She is ghost. Works for bad clen. As good as dead.”
“A ghost girl wanted to steal Giselle's necklace and you stole it first?” Ina asked slowly, trying to put it all together.
“Yes. Now I return,” Piotr said, putting the necklace on the table. “Smells bad, don't want it.”
Giselle picked it up, returning it to her neck. “Well... thank you.”
“Now you owe me double.”
“Hey!”
Piotr shrugged. “It is how it is.”
Giselle grimaced. “Fine... I don't have anything though.”
Piotr nodded. “We figure it out,” he pointed to Ina. “Come, you see Elzbieta.”
Giselle went to get up.
“No. Lady Giselle stays,” Piotr added as he slid from the booth.
Ina turned to her, already on her feet. “Just wait a minute. I'll be back.”
“Are you sure... do you trust him?” Giselle asked.
Ina shook her head. “I can't believe you'd ask that,” she replied and left.
