The Ryle of Zentule

by Michael Green

  “We need to do this now, or I might not be able to,” Letty said. “I’ll get us in with the Argument, and you two make sure nothing surrounds me. I can kill them all.”

  Staza agreed, “The brutox are dangerous, but their weapons can’t stand up to the blade.”

  Quill readied his dagger.

  “Alright.” Letty took the Argument from her pocket and summoned the blade.

  They walked around to the back of the building. An alley ran behind the structure, and across the way was a large metal gate, closed and locked. Letty kept her eyes away from more ryle script on the gate, though, with the light coming from the blade, she also saw a thick coating of dark mist swaying gently towards them.

  The mist recoiled upward and away as the blade came closer.

  “What is that?” Letty asked.

  “It’s a snare. That gunk is made the same way the slithers are. If it gets on you, it acts like a beacon, giving you away. The ryle can see it on you. It also makes you sick and miserable. Too much of it will just kill you,” Quill finished.

  “It’s hard to clean off, but it is possible with minoe,” Staza added.

  Letty had a strange feeling of reminiscence. I think—wait, I remember mice scrubbing that stuff off me. I thought it was a dream.

  She waved her blade closer to the gate. The mist bubbled and disintegrated.

  “Incredible,” Staza said.

  Letty considered the padlock.

  “No time to fool around with this.”

  She sliced a straight line into the gate and then another, and then a third at the top. They stepped back as the rectangular slab of metal fell towards them and hit the ground with a slam.

  Letty and the Caspians shared a pained look.

  Letty entered cautiously. Her hand shook with the urge to fend off a sudden attack. Staza and Quill followed with their weapons drawn.

  Somehow, the interior wasn’t what Letty expected.

  “It just looks like a garage,” she whispered.

  Two luxury cars were parked there, and further back was a closed door. But something else caught Letty’s eye. There was a bank of lockers on the right-hand wall. She approached them and saw names written on notes taped to a few of the locker doors. She quickly read them and stopped.

  Van Arndt.

  She tried the locker handle and was surprised to find it unlocked. Inside was her mother’s purse, coat, and her father’s wallet, as well as their cell phones. Her own purse was there too.

  The sight of it almost made her sick.

  “They’re here,” Letty said, looking away.

  She left the lockers and headed for the door.

  Staza and Quill raised their weapons in anticipation. She turned the knob and pushed before stepping aside.

  A loud whistle shot past her ear. She flinched and pushed herself against the wall.

  Another whistle sounded, followed by a loud smack. Letty saw a heavy crossbow bolt stuck in the gate.

  A moment later, a brutox charged through the door with his sword readied and his shield raised.

  Staza struck from one side of the doorway, leaving his flank exposed to Letty, who stabbed with the blade.

  The sword and shield clattered to the floor as the brutox disintegrated, but more poured in. Letty swung wildly, only careful of her friends, who kept them at bay. Letty’s blade tore through the opened door, the bank of lockers, and the front end of one of the luxury cars as she slaughtered the rush of brutox fighters.

  One sidestepped her swing and moved in too close. She wasn’t fast enough to counter him. Its strong hand grasped her wrist, neutralizing the blade. She struggled and lost her balance as she tried to wrench herself free. The brutox slammed her against the wall and jammed its elbow against her throat, choking her.

  A sudden crack knocked the brutox sideways. Letty saw Quill. He had picked up the heavy shield and bashed the brutox with the thin edge.

  A second later Quill screamed in pain.

  Letty wrenched her hand free from the staggered brutox’s grip and stabbed it with her blade before lunging forward and stabbing another. It was too late; Quill was down, with a wound to the back.

  Staza roared as she pulled her sword free from the last fighting brutox and rushed to his side.

  Quill was trying to stand, but Staza held him down. “Stop! Don’t move, you’ll make it worse!” She commanded, putting pressure on the wound.

  Letty stood there, panicked and feeling useless.

  “Look around, they might have minoe here!” Staza yelled at her.

  Letty rushed into the next room, her hands shaking. She saw dozens of people lying on tables. Gray orbs floated above each of their heads. Ryle script twisted around the orbs.

  She kept her eyes off the script and continued. In the center of the room was a purple orb floating inside a hexagonal glass case. Connected to the case’s lid was a clockwork mechanism, featuring gears and probes that pointed at the orb from several directions. One final probe pointed out into the room. The gray orbs above everyone’s forehead were like nothing she had seen yet.

  A sudden twang caught her off guard. Letty felt like she had been hit by a bus. She stumbled backwards into the wall. A bolt had struck her.

  Her vision fuzzed beneath a torrent of pain. She saw the brutox hiding behind a table, it was struggling to load its crossbow.

  You need to kill it!

  Groaning, she raced across the room, stumbling into something which shattered on the ground. She focused on the brutox and pushed herself forward. The broken glass crunched under her heels as she raised her fist and summoned the blade.

  The brutox staggered away and dropped the weapon as she swiped and took its head.

  I need to find the minoe.

  “Staza! I don’t know what I’m looking for!” Letty yelled, slurring her words. She vaguely sensed that the tables held adults, no children, and none stirred at her yelling. The image stuck in her harried mind as noteworthy.

  Staza stormed into the room. “Minoe will be in a bottle, maybe vials. Good God!” She put a hand over her mouth at the sight of all the people on the tables. Then she saw Letty. “What happened? I thought we killed them all!”

  “One was hiding. It shot me,” Letty said, struggling to keep upright. She reached out and slumped onto one of the tables, still scanning the room for something she couldn’t recognize.

  Gray orbs were scattered here and there, as well as countless mechanical and alchemical components, but they were all alien to her.

  “Here!” Letty called out. “There are jugs and vials on this table.”

  Staza was at her side in moments and set about opening jars. She looked and then took a whiff of their contents.

  “I wish I was better with chemistry—I just know it should look like quicksilver, and smell like metal,” Staza’s hands shook as she inspected everything.

  “Is this it?” Letty asked after picking up a jug and smelling something odd.

  Staza took the jug from her and looked inside before taking a sniff. “Yes!”

  They headed back to the other room, but, halfway there, Letty spotted her parents. The sight staggered her.

  “I—just go, Staza! I’ll be here,” she said.

  Staza didn’t slow.

  “What did they do to you?” Letty reached out and slapped at the gray orb that floated above her father’s head.

  There was a bright flash and a loud crack.

  Her hand was numb from where it touched the orb, though the force of the impact had knocked the gray orb away. She looked around the room and noticed that every gray orb was now rolling on the floor.

  The mechanical contrivance featuring the purple orb moved as well.

  Letty ignored it and struggled to unstrap her parents. It was agonizing, as moving her shoulder, even a bit, made her twinge with pain.

  They’re breathing, but they still aren’t awake.

  Letty worked hurriedly, and frustrated herself with the straps, which, wit
h her wound, were almost too heavy and stiff to wrench free. She cried out as the last strap fell away.

  Staza and Quill appeared from the garage. Quill was pale and staggering.

  “He’s healed. Now stand still,” Staza said grasping Letty and getting a look at her.

  “What are you doing?” Letty asked, feeling the urge to struggle.

  “Quill, help me hold her.”

  Quill clutched Letty’s shoulders, and Staza used a dagger to cut through Letty’s jacket.

  “Not the jacket, Mom, will kill—”

  “Shut up and don’t move!” Staza said, her hands shaking.

  Staza bumped the bolt in the process and the pain made Letty clench. She squirmed, and Quill struggled to hold her still.

  “Just a second,” Staza said, poring a few drops of the liquid on the wound. “Here, drink some before I push it through.”

  Letty winced, but drank. “I don’t want—please don’t,” Letty bit down on her cheeks and braced herself as Staza grabbed hold and forced the bolt the rest of the way through her shoulder.

  Letty screamed and tried to claw Staza to get free.

  She felt herself blacking out. Her head was swimming as she felt them lower her to the floor. She was overwhelmed by a dull fog, but the bitter pain subsided.

  She sensed Staza and Quill rushing back and forth for what felt like hours. Occasionally Staza would pat Letty’s head as she passed by.

  Finally, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes fully. She slapped herself across the cheek a few times to keep the wave of unconsciousness from coming over her again.

  She stumbled to her feet and saw that Quill and Staza had freed every person in the room and were hauling them outside.

  Letty looked at her wound and saw it was gone. The jacket was destroyed, but she felt surprisingly good.

  “You made it through!” Quill said, struggling with a heavy adult, “The minoe pulled you down to heal that one. Lucky it works fast or we would be carrying you outside too.”

  “What are we doing?” Letty asked, stepping forward to help.

  “We’re getting everyone out of here,” Staza said.

  “Why?” Letty asked, following outside. She saw they had carried everyone out to the side street, including her parents.

  “So, the other surfacers will find them,” Quill said, as if it were obvious.

  We need to get my parents home, but we can’t leave all these people. And how can we make it home unnoticed? I’m surprised the cops aren’t already here, and imagine a cab showing up and seeing us carrying my parents, ‘Oh don’t worry about them, they just got too drunk, and don’t mind this blood either.’ It’s too ridiculous, even in this city.

  Letty looked back inside the garage.

  Wait.

  She approached the car on the right and found the driver’s door open. She leaned in and saw that the keys were in the ignition.

  That’s just asking for trouble.

  “Come on,” Letty said to Quill and Staza, who were unsure of what to do next. “We’ll get back home in their car.”

  The Caspians helped Letty stuff her parents and their possessions in the car. Letty sat in the driver’s seat and turned the key.

  “Seatbelts,” she said in a nervous, reflexive way.

  Thinking this possibly a mantra, or a phrase invoked for good fortune, Staza echoed the word. “Seatbelts,” she said, nodding.

  “Seatbelts,” Quill repeated, not wanting to accidentally cause offense.

  Letty sighed, put the car in drive and pulled out, grateful that whoever parked this car had reversed into the spot. She turned down the alley and saw all the people lined up and leaning against the wall.

  “This looks like a crime scene,” Letty whispered, before putting the car in park. “Hold on.” Letty jumped out.

  She patted at a few coats before pulling a cellphone out of someone’s pocket. She called 9-1-1 and, after wiping the phone down for fingerprints, placed it on the ground. The voice of the operator faded away as she left.

  That should work.

  She got back in the car and pulled out of the alley.

  I’m driving, but I can’t drive.

  The car swerved at her slightest touch and she rode the brakes to compensate. Letty pulled onto a main street, which was luckily empty. After a few minutes of angry cab drivers passing on the left, she pulled over at the sight of ambulances racing towards them.

  “What did you do back there?” Staza asked, as Quill stared out the window at the flashing lights.

  “I called for help. Those people won’t be alone for long,” Letty said, wondering if she shouldn’t have left her parents to be picked up by an ambulance as well.

  I hope they wake up, or they’ll need to go to the hospital.

  She looked in the backseat and saw that, besides being slumped over next to Quill, they seemed unharmed.

  “When will they wake up?” Letty asked.

  Neither Quill nor Staza had an answer.

  Just then, her father shifted in his seat. “Two sugars please—” he mumbled. Letty’s eyes widened.

  Better get them home soon.

  Letty pulled back into the lane and managed to drive to her building without causing an accident.

  She dropped the Caspians and her parents off in their building’s underground lot, told them to wait for a minute, and then drove the car a few blocks away. Recalling several hundred hours of her favorite crime investigation shows, Letty parked in an alley and stopped to wipe the steering wheel, doors, and handles, before returning to the underground lot. Luckily, her parents were now half awake and stumbling.

  Careful to keep them from crashing into anything, they got the adults up and into the apartment quickly. Stuffing her parents into their bed was a strange experience, and once she closed their bedroom door, Letty went into the living room and slumped onto the couch.

  “We’ve got them in bed, nobody died, and we have minoe now—”

  “Not a lot though,” Staza interjected.

  “It was a jug full,” Letty said, gesturing at their pile of things, but not caring to get up and prove it.

  “We used so much on you and Quill.”

  “Well, it’s something at least. That could have gone much worse,” Letty said, trying to forget the bolt in her shoulder, Quill’s stabbing, her parents on those tables, and the pitiful sight of their possessions in that locker.

  “What will happen to all those people we saved?” Quill asked.

  Letty had to think for a moment. “They’ll probably get taken to the hospital and then let go. The real question is what will the police do? Their jackets and wallets were in the lockers, and that space and those cars are probably owned by Ropt. They’ll have to investigate and have a trial. Maybe that’ll give us a chance to get Andy.”

  “Ropt?” Quill asked.

  “Yeah, Ropt; it’s the fake name Ziesqe uses on the surface,” Letty answered.

  “Of course,” Staza said. “Ziesqe seems so influential. You think he’d be too powerful to bother with the surface.”

  “How can he be too powerful?” Letty asked.

  “Ryle are focused on rank.” Quill said. “Ziesqe is strange in personally working on the surface, when he could assign a junior to do it. It is generally believed that a ward on the surface is inferior to a fief in the Netherscape. The reason being that they have to hide up here. They are limited in what they can do on the surface, because, if a ryle threatens to expose its kind in any way, even accidentally, that ryle will be fatally censured. Lower ranking ryle are expected to compete with one another for power, first here, and then, when they accrue enough influence, they can hope to find a foothold below.”

  Letty bent her brow in confusion and spoke, “Wait, so they build little kingdoms for themselves on the surface and in the Netherscape. They fight each other, but how can this work if they are all independent? Who makes sure they don’t accidentally expose themselves?”

  “Near Pansubprimu
s, our part of the Netherscape, there is a place called The City in the Sea. Pythia says this is where the final tier of ryle rule. It is one of their capitols, and they have a leadership there that all the ryle warlords, like Ziesqe, must respect.”

  Letty still wasn’t satisfied, and continued with her questions, “If the ryle are running rampant all over the Netherscape, how is it that places like Caspia and the mouse towns haven’t been conquered already?”

  This time Staza answered, “It’s funny you ask that, because Caspia was constantly threatened until just recently. It’s been a Golden Age for us. As evil as Ziesqe is, he provided us with dozens of new pupils, and he offered protection from the other ryle in return for exclusive access to our mistress’s talents.”

  Quill nodded. “Yes, and the mice haven’t been doing very well either. They’ve lost land and towns across their part of the Netherscape. They had something of a civil war less than a hundred years ago. A group called the Vychy split off. They were a secular group that rebelled against Titus’s society, the Occidentus Obscurus. The Vychy severed their race’s millennia long devotion to the Argument.”

  “I’ve heard the word ‘Argument’ used in weird ways, can you—”

  A noise from the other room startled them.

  Letty got to her feet in time to see her parents walk into the living room. Both looked groggy and barely cognizant.

  “Letty, who are these people?” Her father asked, working up to being angry, though not quite there yet.

  “They’re her friends, Jim,” Letty’s mother said, conciliatorily. “Now, Letty dear—it’s rude not to int’oduce—intro—duce,” she slurred her words and yawned on her way to the kitchen, before filling the kettle, “—introduce us dear.”

  “Sure. Mom, Dad, this is Staza,” Staza waved and smiled, “and this is Quill,” he did the same, though the tension in his eyes wouldn’t relent.

  “Very unique names, you two. Do I know either of your mothers?”

  Staza and Quill fidgeted uncomfortably.

  “Good lord, it’s two in the morning!” Jim said, noticing the wall clock. “How is it two in the morning? Why are people over this late? What’s going on here?”

  Letty had been working up excuses and stories, but suddenly felt them all inadequate.