The Relic Guild (47 page)

The ladder led to a small, metal grille platform; and there, set into the dark stone wall, was an open archway leading to a narrow staircase. Illuminating the darkness with his glass cane, Van Bam began to ascend. The scrapes and shuffles of his colleagues’ boots echoed in the tight space behind him.

The stairs finished at a dead end wall, but the brickwork carried the familiar maze pattern. Samuel affirmed that he sensed no immediate danger and Van Bam reached out, but paused before making contact with the wall.

With a pang of uncertainty, he wondered how deeply the Genii’s influence had burrowed into Labrys Town. All the districts’ energy came from the magic stemming from the Nightshade. Would the magic in this secret door still obey his touch?

Holding his breath, he pressed his palm to the pattern.

There was a click, and Van Bam exhaled in relief. A slim doorway swung outwards, and bright, blue-grey light flooded the stairwell. Turning sideways to slip through the gap, he exited into the southern district of Labrys Town, and the stink of the sewers evaporated in the fresh, chilly air of Silver Moon. Clara and Samuel followed, and the door closed and disappeared behind them.

Van Bam recognised the area. They had emerged at the back of a metal-works yard, in the heart of the warehouse region. The door that led to the sewers was hidden behind a false wall at the end of a supervisor’s hut.

Here during the day, engineers built new trams, or repaired the old, or scrapped and recycled the decommissioned. Tramlines crisscrossed the stone floor, and against the rear wall, rusted metal parts had been dumped. The huts and workshops around the yard were shuttered and locked. The working day was long over, though the smell of hot grease still touched the air.

It felt good to be outside again. The sky was clear, full of stars. Even to Van Bam’s inner vision, the cold disc of Silver Moon was bright and glaring after the dingy world below. Nonetheless, he kept his green glass cane illuminated under the brightness. After his and Clara’s experience with Captain Jeter, he doubted its concealing light could hide them from the watchful gaze of Hagi Tabet. Fortunately, the eye devices in this area were mostly positioned within warehouses. The green glass cane would, however, hide the group from any warehouseman or tram driver working the nightshift.

‘Come,’ Van Bam said. ‘We are not far from our destination.’

Unseen and silent, the three agents left the metal-works yard, and weaved their way through the streets and alleys between the warehouses. Clara and Samuel followed Van Bam, making sure to remain within his cane’s circle of secreting light.

The further he travelled, the more concerned Van Bam became. The atmosphere felt wrong. The warehouses were vital for storing the food stocks and materials that ensured the denizens survived in their isolated home. Normally, there were security guards patrolling the area at all hours, and there was always a nightshift of yard workers. Yet the group passed no one on their journey, and not one light shone from a warehouse window. Van Bam could not even hear the sound of machinery, or the rumble of cargo trams. The southern district was too quiet. It seemed deserted.

Coming to the end of an alley, Van Bam brought the small group to a halt. Samuel moved up alongside the ex-Resident.

‘We are close,’ Van Bam told him, gesturing to the other side of the tramlines. ‘The warehouse is on the next street.’

‘Yes, I remember,’ Samuel replied. ‘You know, this place feels awfully quiet to me. Do you think something’s happened to the denizens?’

‘I would guess Captain Jeter has enforced a curfew.’

‘Jeter,’ Samuel growled. ‘If we live through this, I think I’ll have a little word with him.’

‘Jeter might be easily fooled, but he cannot be blamed, Samuel. He is, and always will be, the Resident’s man. There is no compromise in his devotion to the Nightshade.’

Samuel pulled a sour expression. ‘So, the Genii get Jeter to clear the districts, and it’s easier for everyone to search for us.’ He scoffed. ‘Nice to know we’re still considered a threat.’

Samuel paused before speaking again, his face alive with remorse. ‘Van Bam, if the Genii are already in the Nightshade—’

‘Then Marney is dead,’ Van Bam concluded.

Samuel nodded. ‘I’m sorry.’ He took a breath. ‘We probably shouldn’t be hanging around.’

‘Agreed.’

‘Wait,’ Clara said. The young changeling’s face was turned up toward Silver Moon. Her eyes were closed. ‘I can hear something. A tram. It’s coming this way.’

Both men stepped back into the alley.

‘Stay in the light,’ Van Bam reminded, holding his cane aloft.

A moment later, he too heard the sound: a distant rumble that was growing louder and closer. It wasn’t long before the power lines began swaying overhead, and the sleek, blue and white striped body of a police tram trundled along the street. As it crept past the alley mouth, a police officer could be seen standing at the window staring out. Luckily, he was not wearing a receptor helmet and could not see through Van Bam’s magic to the three agents hiding in the cane’s light.

As the tram slipped from view, Samuel exhaled with relief. ‘After you,’ he said to Van Bam.

The group crossed the street and headed down an alley into a deserted street, flanked by terraced lines of warehouses. Innocuous looking, each shutter door was painted white, signifying the storage of metal ores. The Relic Guild headed straight towards the last warehouse on the right.

Samuel peered through the darkened window, checking for signs of life. Clara remained close by, still looking lost and contemplative. Van Bam faced the white shutter door and thought back to the last time he had been here.

The warehouse looked as rundown and abandoned as it had decades ago, somehow lonely sitting at the end of the terrace. Painfully, it reminded Van Bam of Marney. The last time he had come here was on the same day he had surprised her with a little attic apartment of their own. He almost smiled at the memory.

‘Seems deserted enough,’ Samuel said, turning from the window. ‘I can’t sense any danger, either.’

Van Bam nodded. ‘Clara?’

Clara concentrated. ‘I can’t hear anyone,’ she said. ‘Or smell anything,’ she added.

Van Bam stepped forwards and laid a hand against the shutter door. He felt the reassuring vibrations of mechanisms turning as it unlocked. As he raised it, the shutter made an obscene amount of noise in the stillness. The three agents stepped into the warehouse.

Van Bam experienced another jolt of nostalgia. The centre of the warehouse floor was etched with the faint outline of thaumaturgic symbols. Created by Hamir during the war, the engraving had become embedded with dirt over the years, and it must be scarcely discernible to normal eyes. But Van Bam’s vision saw it clearly enough – the swirls and symbols of an impossible language. Whatever magic it had once generated had long since dissipated.

Apart from the engraving, the warehouse was as empty as it had always been. Behind a door on the far wall were the stairs that led down to the cellar. Near it was a large elevator platform that also descended there.

‘Look at the eye,’ Clara whispered. ‘Something’s wrong with it.’

Van Bam followed the line of her pointing finger.

There was a single eye device, positioned where it could observe the entire space. But the usually milky-white fluid inside was altered; it was now a distinct shade of pink – like milk powder mixed with blood – which rolled and swirled within the glass casing.

‘I’ve seen this before,’ Samuel said, ‘back at my hideout.’ He faced Van Bam. ‘Why have the eyes changed?’

‘Perhaps a reaction to the Genii,’ Van Bam said. ‘Let us hope it is a sign the Nightshade is fighting their influence. If not, Hagi Tabet could be watching us right now.’

Samuel looked to Clara. ‘Underneath the warehouse, the avatar said, right? Something in the cellar?’

Clara nodded, but didn’t seem sure. Samuel stepped quickly over to the stairwell door and rattled the handle. It was locked.

Extinguishing the light from his cane, Van Bam moved to the back wall and stood upon the elevator platform. He reached for the control box, and Clara and Samuel joined him.

The ex-Resident’s thumb hovered over the down button. ‘For what it is worth,’ he said, ‘be ready to defend yourselves.’

He pressed the button, and the elevator began its descent.

In the police headquarters, Captain Jeter stood in his office, gazing down onto the plaza of Watchers’ Gallery, shadow-streaked in the light of Silver Moon. It was deserted, as were the streets of the entire town. Not even the trams were running tonight. The denizens were under curfew.

Jeter remembered how proud he had been the day he was made Captain of the Police Force. The Resident himself had bestowed the position upon him, and Jeter had sworn to uphold the laws of the Nightshade rigorously. Now he felt a fool. He had allowed a demon-worshipping whore to corrupt the old Resident. Under his very nose she had wormed her way into the Nightshade to spread her poison. And Jeter had let her slip from his grasp. Twice. She was still out there, somewhere, and she and her fellow demon-worshippers threatened the life of every denizen.

At the sound of a knock, Jeter turned, and Sergeant Ennis entered the office. There were dark rings around his eyes, and he looked dishevelled in his usually smart, dark blue uniform. At this moment, rest was an unaffordable luxury for the entire police force.

‘Report,’ Jeter said.

Ennis rubbed a hand over his ashen face. ‘There was some trouble down Green Glass Row, sir – denizens breaking curfew.’

‘It is dealt with?’

‘Yes, sir. There was some violent protesting – three denizens were killed. But the deaths brought the crowd to order. As soon as we started shooting, most of them dispersed to their homes, though we still had to make several arrests.’

‘Very good,’ Jeter said and motioned for his sergeant to take a seat.

Ennis slumped into the chair wearily, and then frowned at his captain. ‘Should I get you a doctor, sir?’

Jeter shook his head. He knew what he looked like, but he didn’t care. His nose was broken, and the blood in his nostrils had dried to hard, sharp lumps. Bruises had manifested under his eyes, and the swelling gave him a deep ache, a constant reminder of his failure. He deserved the pain.

‘How goes the search for Van Bam and Peppercorn Clara?’

‘We’re still looking for them,’ Ennis said and he sighed. ‘A patrol unit contained a small outbreak of the virus in the northern district, but they were long gone from the scene.’

‘To be expected, I suppose,’ Jeter grumbled. ‘They feed and they disappear.’ He stared down at his broken spectacles lying on his desk.

Van Bam had stood right next to him in the interrogation room, mimicking an officer, and Jeter had suspected nothing until it was too late. He should have known the possessed Resident would be able to use magic. Back at the very moment Van Bam had announced the revival of the Relic Guild, Jeter’s suspicions should have been aroused. Everyone knew there were no magickers left, and the Relic Guild had died out years ago. If not through his newfound love of demon-worshipping, through the rituals of blood-taking, how else could Van Bam have come to possess such power? It all seemed so obvious now.

‘Sir,’ Ennis said, ‘our resources are stretched. We have as many officers as possible out combing the districts, going door-to-door, trying to flush out the Relic Guild – but people are disappearing, and these random outbreaks of the virus …’ He took a breath and looked down. ‘Sir, the denizens know what we’re up against. They’re frightened.’

‘With good reason,’ Jeter said. ‘Five bounty hunters I sent after Old Man Sam, Ennis. I’m yet to hear word from any one of them.’ He shook his head. ‘I should imagine he is reunited with his friends by now.’

He turned and stared out of the window again. ‘I was only a child when the real Relic Guild walked our streets – and you, Ennis, were not even born. From the shadows, they watched over this town, protected us from the unseen. Now, these bastards are a perversion of everything the Relic Guild once stood for. They are an insult to the name, even if no less powerful.’

‘Could they do it, sir?’ Ennis said in a tight voice. ‘Could they really bring the Retrospective to Labrys Town?’

‘Yes,’ whispered Jeter.

Behind him, Ennis swore softly. It was a hopeless sound, lost, resigned. Jeter turned to face his sergeant again.

‘We have a duty to perform,’ he said sternly. ‘We will not fail the denizens, no matter how desperate our situation seems.’

‘With all due respect, sir, what chance do we stand against the Relic Guild? I saw the aftermath of their virus at the asylum. I saw what they had done to people.’ Ennis opened his hands helplessly. ‘We’re fighting with bullets against magic. The Relic Guild can hide within plain sight. They move without being seen—’

‘Hagi Tabet can see,’ Jeter snapped. ‘Or perhaps you have forgotten, Sergeant?’

‘No, sir,’ Ennis replied quickly.

‘Then calm yourself!’

Jeter tried not to groan as he lowered himself into the chair at his desk. He wasn’t really that angry with Ennis; the man was only expressing the doubt felt by all the officers. Fear had spread through the ranks like the virus of the demon-worshippers. But Ennis needed to accept, here and now, that even though, in his corruption, Van Bam had been displaced, the Nightshade remained strong. Its eyes were on their side.

Adopting a calmer tone of voice, Jeter said, ‘Hagi Tabet is watching over Labrys Town, and she does not sleep. She will not rest until her denizens are safe. And
you
, Ennis, will trust in our new Resident as I do. Understood?’

Ennis nodded and some resolve came back to his weary face.

‘Then back to business,’ Jeter said crisply, and he leant back in his chair. ‘What of the homeless? They have been rounded up?’

‘For the most part, sir,’ Ennis said. ‘We’re using the jails and shelters to keep them off the streets, but we can’t be sure how many are left out there.’

‘Keep looking, Sergeant. Vagrants are easy pickings, and if they’re infected with the virus, we could have an epidemic on our hands before—’