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Authors: Kirsten Miller

BOOK: Inside the Shadow City
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“Fake,” said Kiki.

“Fake? They look like real shoes to me,” I said.

“That's not what I mean. They're counterfeit.” She ran her finger across the soft leather of a pair of black boots. “All this attention to detail, and then they screw it up by misspelling Italy.”

I peeked at the sole of one of the shoes. It was stamped with the word
Italie
.

“Who left them here?” I wondered.

“Smugglers, who else? They must be using this warehouse, and they've already found the opium den underneath it. We'll have to close off this entrance if we want to keep them out of the tunnels.”

Before we left for home, we barricaded the trapdoor that led from the opium den to the storeroom below. Back at Kiki's hidden house, we listened as Verushka made an anonymous call to the police, tipping them off
about the counterfeit footwear. The next day, a scandal erupted when the authorities announced that a wealthy real estate magnate named Oliver Harcott owned the warehouse. Unfortunately, no one could prove that Oliver Harcott was in league with the smugglers. The building had been rented to a Chinese businessman who had fled the city. With no leads left to follow, the police were forced to close the case and distribute the shoes to Manhattan's homeless.

The Irregulars celebrated our little victory with more of Verushka's cherry blintzes, though in an amazing show of restraint, I limited myself to one. We were all thrilled that our mission to control Shadow City was proving to be a success. For the moment, the tunnels were safe. And Kiki Strike was pleased she'd caused trouble for Oliver Harcott. As far as she was concerned, a man who had looked the other way while his son, Jacob, had harassed people in Central Park couldn't be entirely innocent. That morning, as Kiki drank her coffee and laughed along with the rest of us, I wondered if I might have misjudged her. Maybe she isn't so dangerous, I thought to myself.

I had almost begun to believe it, when everything went horribly wrong.

• • •

We had been exploring the Shadow City for more than two weeks when a remarkable change came over Kiki. One evening before we departed for the Marble Cemetery, she asked again to see the map. By that point, my masterpiece was impressively detailed, and I was proud
of my work. I had taken great pains to perfect the image of the snakelike city that lay coiled beneath Manhattan.

As Kiki held the printout in her hands, a small smirk played across her lips. She flipped through the photos of the buildings with exits and lingered on the last one, which showed an ordinary brownstone with a little blond girl playing on the stoop.

“Where did you say this building is?” she asked.

“It's only a couple of blocks from your house, actually. It's on Bethune Street.”

“I thought I recognized that kid,” she said, staring at the photo and grinning like a maniac. I suspected we were close to whatever it was she was after. But once again, I didn't ask. Let her find it, I thought, and then we can get back to the business of mapping the Shadow City. It was wishful thinking of the most dangerous sort.

That night, Kiki was eager to return to the part of the city where we had left off the night before. We practically ran through the tunnels, despite the fact that our boots were not built for speed. Finally, we arrived at the door that led to the house on Bethune Street. Several more doors lay just beyond. Kiki stopped abruptly.

“We're under people's houses now, so you've got to be quiet,” she told us, her order making very little sense. We were too far underground for anyone to hear us. But rather than argue, we all nodded obediently.

“Okay, then, let's see what we've got.” Kiki walked to the next door and tried the handle. It was locked. Oona took out her lock-picking kit, and after a few seconds, the door stood open. Inside, a skeleton dressed in the remains of a colorful three-piece suit lay splayed across a bed.

“Don't mind him,” Kiki instructed. “Look for an exit.” I scanned the ceiling, but there was nothing to be seen. A frown darkened Kiki's face. “We're done here,” she announced.

“Wait,” called Betty, who had been examining the dead man's suit. We turned to see her pointing at the skeleton. “There's something hidden under his jacket.”

I moved closer to the bed and peered down at the man.

“It's some sort of sack,” I confirmed.

“Well, see what it is and let's get out of here,” said Kiki.

I reached over and pinched the sack's fabric, careful not to come into contact with the hand that still clutched it tightly. When the skeletal fingers refused to release the sack, I tugged with frustration. The rotten fabric ripped, and a shower of golden disks rained down on us. One bounced off Betty's forehead and fell at her feet. She bent down and grabbed it.

“It's gold,” she said, holding up a coin the size of a quarter.

“We're rich! We're rich!” Luz shouted, jumping up and down as if she'd won the lottery. Everyone but Kiki scrambled to recover the gold pieces.

“Leave the coins. We'll come back for them later,” Kiki demanded, but there was no way to stop Luz from claiming her prize. She walked up to Kiki and shook a finger in her face.

“You told me that if I joined the Irregulars I'd never have to go through anyone's trash again,” Luz snarled. “Well, I'm sick of waiting. Sit your butt down and shut up while we take what belongs to us.”

Rather than argue, Kiki took a seat next to the skeleton and studied my map while we collected the coins, many of which had fallen into cracks or rolled into crevices. By the time we were finished, we had found almost two hundred of them. We loaded them into DeeDee's backpack, which sagged with the weight.

With our newfound wealth stashed away, we returned to the main tunnel of the Shadow City. Kiki approached the next door. It opened to reveal nothing but dirt. Slamming it in frustration, she headed for the third door along the side of the tunnel. Unlike the others we had encountered, the door was made not of wood but rather a dull, dense metal. Although there was no lock to be seen, the door refused to open. Kiki turned to DeeDee.

“This one's locked from the inside. Get your explosives ready. Luz, Ananka, check for mains.”

Luz and I studied our maps. According to the NYCMap, there was a water main that stretched through the middle of the block and a smaller gas main that ran alongside it. If my map of the Shadow City was to be trusted, we were far enough away from the pipes to safely detonate the explosives. But I was well aware of my map's shortcomings.

“It's not safe,” I informed Kiki. “We may be too close to a water main.”

“We
have
to open that door,” she replied, daring me to disagree. She wasn't going to let the rebellion Luz had started get out of control.

“It's too dangerous,” I said. “The pipes are old. Any strong vibration could cause them to burst.”

“It's only a small explosion, Ananka,” said Kiki.

“I don't think it'll cause any problems,” added DeeDee.

“What about you? What do you think?” Kiki turned to Luz.

“If the maps are right, it should be okay,” she said.

“My map could be off,” I confessed. “I've had to correct it every time we've found an exit.”

“We're only a few doors down from the last exit,” Kiki insisted. “So the map should still be accurate.”

“Why do you want to open that door so badly?” I asked, tired of her orders and feeling a sudden surge of courage. I heard somebody gasp.

Kiki's voice turned icy cold. “Our job is to find all the exits. If a door is locked from the inside, there's a good chance there's an exit behind it.”

“You know what I think? I think you're full of crap,” I told her. “You've never been interested in mapping the Shadow City. You've been leading us here all along. What is this place?”

For a brief moment Kiki was taken aback, then her wolflike eyes narrowed.

“It doesn't really matter what
you
believe, Ananka. You're not in charge, are you? DeeDee, get your explosives ready.”

DeeDee hesitated.

“If you don't trust me, why are you here?” Kiki shouted. With her brow furrowed, nostrils flared, and white locks sticking out in every direction, she looked wild and dangerous.

DeeDee reluctantly pulled out two small vials. “Sorry Ananka,” she apologized. “I'm sure we'll be fine.”

There was nothing more I could do. I sullenly followed
behind the others as they moved a safe distance away. We watched from the doorway of the skeleton's room as DeeDee connected the two vials and taped them to the locked door. As she dashed to meet us, the chemicals exploded. The blast was deafening, and a pale blue ball of fire raced down the tunnel, engulfing DeeDee as she ran. Then the walls of the tunnel rumbled, and stones began to fall from the ceiling. Where the metal door had stood, the tunnel collapsed in a mound of rubble and a cloud of dust. DeeDee lay on the floor in front of us. Her uniform had protected her body from the flames, but her hat had been knocked from her head and what little was left of her hair was smoldering. A long red gash stretched across her forehead. She wasn't moving.

“DeeDee!” I shrieked. As I ran for DeeDee's body, I heard a loud
crack
followed by the roar of raging water. I grabbed one of DeeDee's legs and began dragging her to safety. Kiki took the other leg and tried to help.

“Look what you've done!” I yelled. If I'd had a free hand, I would have punched her. “I hope you're satisfied!”

Kiki said nothing, and together, we managed to move DeeDee from the wreckage. I dropped to my knees and took DeeDee's pulse. It was very faint.

“She's alive,” I informed the others. “But we have to get her to a hospital.”

“Take off her backpack. It'll make it easier to carry her,” Kiki said. I pulled the backpack filled with gold from DeeDee's shoulders and shoved it at Kiki.

“You take it, then.” I turned to the others. “Okay, let's
get her out. We'll have to go through the nearest exit. We don't have time to make it back to the cemetery.”

Together, the four of us were able to lift DeeDee quite easily, but when we reached the ladder that led into the basement of the nearby building, we seemed to be stuck.

“Let me do it,” insisted Kiki. She hoisted DeeDee fireman-style over her back and carried her fifty feet up the ladder and through the trapdoor. Although I couldn't have been angrier, I had to marvel at Kiki's strength.

With DeeDee's limp body in tow, we hurried for the front door of the brownstone. The house was dark and difficult to navigate. Adding to the ambience, the people who owned the building were avid collectors of ceremonial masks from around the world. Wherever we turned, another bug-eyed monster or hideous hyena god was there to greet us. As we neared the front door, we heard little footsteps on the stairs that lead to the upper floors. I half expected to see that one of the demons had sprung to life, but it was only a tiny blond girl, dressed in pink pajamas with feet. We all froze.

“You're awfully short for robbers,” the little girl noted calmly.

“Shh. We're not robbers,” Kiki told her as Oona scrambled to open the locks on the front door.

“Then what are you?” she asked.

“Elves,” said Kiki.

The little girl looked briefly puzzled.

“See?” Kiki took off her hat and shook out her unnaturally white hair.

“Where did you come from?”

“The basement,” Kiki said. “But we're leaving now.”

“Okay,” said the girl, apparently satisfied. “Have a nice night.”

Oona opened the door, and we carried DeeDee out of the building. A cab was driving past and Oona sprinted to hail it.

“St. Vincent's Hospital,” I demanded once we had carefully loaded DeeDee into the backseat.

“You girls got cash?” asked the very hairy man behind the wheel.

“Of course we do,” I snapped.

“Okay, then, but don't let your friend bleed all over the upholstery.”

“Just drive!” I screamed at him.

“No need to be rude,” he muttered as he stepped on the gas.

As the cab neared the hospital, we stripped out of our uniforms, revealing our regular clothes underneath. We didn't need to make the situation any worse by showing up dressed like a band of miniature ninjas. When the cab stopped in front of the emergency room, someone threw a twenty-dollar bill at the driver, and we pulled DeeDee from the car. As soon as we entered the hospital waiting room, a swarm of doctors surrounded us.

“What happened?” one asked, but none of us could think of an answer. “Never mind,” the doctor huffed in exasperation as he loaded DeeDee onto a stretcher and wheeled her through two swinging doors.

“It's time you explained yourself,” I said, spinning around and expecting to see Kiki behind me.

“What are you talking about?” said Oona.

“Where is she?” I asked the group.

We looked around the waiting room. Betty ran to the window and Oona checked the ladies' room. Kiki Strike was gone. And so, we soon realized, was the gold.

HOW TO CARE FOR AN INJURED COLLEAGUE

While I'm certain that you are the very picture of caution, by now you must have learned that in any good story, there's always a character who's a bit accident-prone. And unless you intend to abandon your stumbling sidekick or clumsy companion in the middle of all the fun, I recommend that you learn how to care for her.

Fortunately, many injuries can be easily dealt with if you have a little common sense, a well-stocked first aid kit, and an expert knowledge of CPR. But for those of you who've already learned how to bandage a bullet wound or kick-start a heart, I've included a few helpful guidelines for dealing with some of the injuries common among adventurers.

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