The Malice (19 page)

The kid snorts but when Vesper looks at him, his attention is elsewhere, his expression innocent.

Vesper opens her mouth to speak but one look at Duet’s demeanour changes her mind. Words break down, coalescing into another sigh.

A young man balances on the shoulders of a purple-skinned half-breed, a giant pair of binoculars strapped to his head. They stand atop Verdigris’ battlements, alternately scanning the flatlands and looking over their shoulders. They are in a place they should not be. This is nothing new for either of them.

The half-breed wears a resigned expression. ‘You have a bony arse.’

The young man chuckles. ‘That’s because I have a greedy father who keeps all the food and money to himself. But don’t worry, Bruise, if we pull this off, my arse will grow so fat, you’ll be begging to use it as a pillow.’

‘I don’t care about your arse. I care about getting paid.’

‘The only thing you care about is the smoke.’

‘Is it?’

‘Well there might be other things …’ He wiggles his bum against Bruise’s shoulders. ‘But it’s the smoke that gets you out of bed in the morning, or the lack of it.’

‘Fuck! Stop that!’

‘Why so glum? We’re on the road to glory.’

‘Doesn’t feel glorious to me. If the marshals or your father finds out we’re here, we’re both in for it.’

‘Then stop swearing so loud.’

Bruise pouts, lowers his voice. ‘Can you see anything?’

‘Patience my friend, patience. Wealth favours the bold but only if they keep their shit together. And sooner or later, the Malice will come.’

‘For your sake, I hope it’s sooner.’

The young man leans forward. ‘Seems like my luck is in then. I see them.’

‘You sure?’

‘Not many others coming from the north these days. They look … they look pretty awful. Perfect!’ He slithers off Bruise’s shoulders. ‘Time to go.’

‘What’s the hurry? I thought we had to be patient.’

He smacks the half-breed smartly on the backside. ‘Fuck patience.’

‘Fuck you!’

‘Of course,’ he replies, grinning. ‘But first we get this done.’

The walls of Verdigris are strong, proudly sporting scorch marks from past conflicts; they link the city to the surrounding mountains. Much of the city’s past glory has gone but three of the great towers remain, gold tipped and shining in the sunslight.

A flag hangs in the weak breeze. It holds the picture of a woman’s arm, bent, bicep firm, fist clenched, unquestionably human.

Vesper smiles. ‘That’s a good sign.’

Duet sizes up the giant gates. ‘Is it?’

‘When my Uncle Harm lived here, Verdigris was controlled by the Usurper and the Uncivil. He was part of the rebels that fought against them. They must have won. You see? That flag is their sign.’

‘You think they’ll open the doors for his niece?’

‘Of course! My uncle’s really nice. I’ll bet he’s got lots of friends here.’

Despite fatigue, they find themselves walking faster, thoughts of food and comfortable beds urging them on. Even so, progress is slow, the suns circling past the horizon, taking warmth and colour with them.

By the time they arrive, the gates are a square of black, blotting out the scant stars behind.

‘Now what?’ asks Duet.

‘We could knock.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Me?’

‘You’re the one with the contacts.’

‘Okay then …’ The gates seem much larger close up. Vesper swallows. The kid’s head pushes against her dangling palm. ‘Okay then.’

Her foot moves forward, hesitant.

An ominous creak comes from the gates and a crack of pale light appears between them.

The silhouette of a man appears in the light, small, almost ridiculous in comparison to the great gates. He scurries forward to meet them.

Vesper raises a hand in greeting. ‘Hello.’

Her hand is taken and subjected to a rigorous shaking. ‘Hello, my friend, and welcome to Verdigris. There is much to discuss but little time. Is that not always the way?’

‘Er … who are you?’

‘Introductions will come soon, I promise, but now we must go. This way.’

He leads Vesper by the hand, and Duet and the kid follow. They pass through the gates, which clank shut behind them.

A uniformed Usurperkin sweats by a metal wheel, muscles bulging as she turns the old mechanism tight. Her name is Jo-lee and she is second generation, not as huge as her father but far larger than her untainted grandparents.

The man looks like a child next to her. ‘Thank you, dear lady,’ he whispers, ‘much appreciated.’ She nods as he slips something small and flat into her back pocket. ‘We were never here.’

He pulls Vesper along, navigating dingy streets with the confidence of a local. ‘Not far now.’

Lonely moans sound from time to time. Vesper’s instinctive move towards them is checked by the others. ‘Nothing you can do for those ones,’ whispers the man. ‘Best to keep your distance if you don’t want to go the same way.’

Vesper frowns but allows herself to be led on.

A door opens in the darkness and the man darts through. Vesper, Duet and the kid follow, the door closing quickly behind them.

They find themselves in a room, small and packed with boxes. The smell of salt and meat issues from nearby. A single lamp sways, its light playing over the room’s other occupant, picking out a pair of disinterested eyes and a lean purple chest.

Duet puts her hand to her sword.

Quickly, the smaller man steps between them with raised arms and an easy smile. ‘So, here we are. A place to rest your heads. Not exactly home, eh? But, as my father says, the beggar cannot be the chooser.’

Vesper blinks. ‘I, ah, thank you?’

‘No thanks are necessary. You are a woman in need of a friend, and I am happy to be that friend.’

‘Who are you?’

‘My name is Ez.’

‘We call him Little Ez.’ Adds the purple-skinned man.

‘Why?’

‘Ah, it is not as you’d think. The name is ironic, given to me on account of my huge,’ his grin widens, and he waggles his eyebrows, ‘blessing.’

Vesper stares.

Little Ez only grins the wider. ‘My associate here is called Bruise. No irony there, eh?’ He chuckles as the half-breed rolls his eyes. ‘I see you have travelled a long way. You are tired, yes? Of course you are. Tired and hungry. Little Ez will bring you food and lay out the finest beds for you.’

‘Thank you.’

‘It is nothing, the least we can do for such honoured guests.’

Duet takes in the low ceiling, the grubby crates. ‘Who are we hiding from?’

‘A good question. Clearly there is no pulling the tent over your eyes! Let us be honest with each other. Little Ez sees the sword you carry. Surely such a thing can only have come from the Shining City? They say it is alive. They say it is one of The Seven. Some call it the Malice.’

Duet settles into a ready stance. Only Bruise seems to notice, a muscle twitching in his hand. The kid sneezes.

‘Many seek it,’ continues Little Ez. ‘The First has offered a great reward for any who deliver the Malice to it. And the First is wealthier than what’s left of the Empire. So you see, you are hiding from everyone!’

‘But,’ says Vesper, ‘I thought Verdigris was friendly. I thought it stood against infernals.’

‘You are a good-hearted girl. I see that. It is beautiful. Like a … like a rare flower. Don’t you agree, Bruise?’ The half-breed shrugs. ‘Ignore him, he’s a savage with no eye for the sweeter things in life. Where was I? Ah yes, like a flower … But my friend, I have to warn you, flowers are delicate things, easily stepped on if you see what I mean. Verdigris will not accept infernal rule but it still needs to survive. We trade with New Horizon in the south and the First’s nomads in the north. Not directly, you understand, but we all know where the goods come from. They have Demon fingerprints all over them. A sad fact but there are not many choices, and this city, for all its friendliness, needs to eat.’

‘Then why are you helping us?’

‘Another good question! And one I am glad you are asking. My associate and I will help you out of loyalty to the mighty Empire of the Winged Eye. We hear the Empire rewards loyalty most generously, true?’

Vesper’s agreement is hurried.

‘Enough to not regret not going to the First?’

‘We don’t have much with us,’ begins Vesper, wincing as Little Ez’s expression sours. ‘But we’ll see to it that you’re richly rewarded.’

‘How richly?’

‘What about your own island?’

‘Ah, a noble offer. But islands are worth nothing unless they are yours to give.’

‘Not mine. The Seven’s. If you help us,’ she licks her lips. ‘We’ll give you Sonorous.’

Little Ez bows. ‘The Seven are indeed generous. We accept their gracious offer. One thing though. How do I know I can trust you?’

Duet’s answer is automatic. ‘It’s a crime to lie in the presence of The Seven.’

They pause, all eyes moving to the sword.

Little Ez smiles weakly. ‘Of course, of course. Then it is settled.’ He shakes Vesper’s hand again. ‘I suggest you both rest while you can. We will return with food shortly. Nobody should disturb you here but if they do … best to kill first and save the questions for later!’

Under the cover of darkness, a diminutive man and a sour-faced half-breed whisper.

‘Interesting conversation, no?’

Bruise rolls his eyes. ‘It’s just us now, you can talk normal.’

‘I thought you liked my sales voice.’

‘No, I hate it. You sound like your bloody father. Why do you do it anyway?’

‘Lots of reasons. People expect me to sound like him. You know that’s not his real voice either?’

‘Serious?’

‘Yeah. He told me once. Said he made more sales when he used it and he told me that it’s easier to lie when you don’t use your normal voice. But what do you think?’

‘I told you. I hate it.’

‘No, you idiot. About our new friends and their very generous offer?’

‘I think they’re full of shit.’

‘You don’t think they’ll deliver an island to us then?’

‘Last I heard, the First helped kick the Empire out of Sonorous.’

Little Ez nods. ‘I heard the same. And even if I hadn’t, that kid can’t lie for shit.’

‘Heh. That’s true. Nor the woman, thought her eyes were gonna pop out of her head when the girl started lying. You reckon they got anything worth anything under those rags?’

‘They look desperate and poor to me. Shame. I was hoping for desperate and rich.’

‘I told you didn’t I? I said they’d have nothing.’

A finger strokes Bruise’s chest, soothing, and the young man gives him a sympathetic look. ‘Of course you did. Now you have the joy of being right.’

‘Lucky me. I suppose you got a plan though.’

He flashes Bruise a smile. ‘Naturally. We go back to plan A: sell them to the First, and fast, before anyone else gets wind they’ve even arrived. I need to find the money to get a message out of the city. It may take a while.’

‘What should I do?’

‘Go feed our friends and make sure they don’t do anything stupid.’

‘You want me to drug them?’

‘No. Don’t give them any reason to be suspicious. Just be your usual self and don’t smile too much.’

‘Fuck you.’

Little Ez smiles and pinches the half-breed on the bottom. Bruise’s half-closed eyes narrow further. ‘Fuck. You.’

‘Soon, my lusty friend, soon.’

The wheelbarrow is crudely made but strong. A good fit for the Usurperkin that uses it. His uniform is worn open at the collar, his sleeves rolled back over thick forearms. In each hand he carries a child’s body. Even in the dark they are disturbingly still.

First one, then the other is put into the barrow, as gently as Max can manage. He feels sorry for the parents, old friends of his, and consoles himself that they are not alive to witness the end of their line. He sprays the door to warn off any well-wishers. Another house claimed by the plague. Max sighs, sure that the barrow will be more than full before he’s finished for the night.

Footsteps march loudly down the street towards him. They are heavy, purposeful, belonging to his sister, Maxi. He knows from their pace that she is not happy about something. A second set accompany them, stumbling rather than walking, as if being half dragged. He smiles grimly, knowing how it feels to be in their position.

Maxi marches into the light of the barrow’s lamp.

Her hair spikes are lightening at the roots, the first signs of getting older. Usurperkin are blessed to grow strong much faster than their human counterparts and cursed to age just as quickly. For now, though, the changes are merely cosmetic.

Self-conscious, Max touches his scalp, aware of the way his body mirrors hers in all things, while his sister hauls her cargo into the light.

‘One of yours,’ she announces, throwing another Usurperkin down between them.

Young and also uniformed, she looks up at him, pleading.

Max groans. He has many children spread across the city and beyond. Like him they have grown too quickly into adulthood. Like him, they have a tendency to make mistakes. ‘What is it this time?’

‘This one opened the gates without permission.’

‘I dint do nothin’!’

Maxi’s hand moves smartly across the back of his daughter’s head. ‘She claims she was testing the mechanism, despite the fact the city is under lockdown.’

‘Ah, Jo-lee,’ he says. ‘That was dumb.’

She looks up at him, pleading. ‘I dint do nothin’!’

Maxi hits her again. ‘You opened the gates. One of mine saw people come in.’

Jo-lee’s reply is too slow to be convincing. ‘That’s spawn shit!’

Max sees Maxi raising her hand and intervenes quickly. ‘Hold on! Don’t break her.’

‘Don’t break her? She broke lockdown, took a bribe—’

‘I dint!’

‘—let suns knows who inside!’

‘I dint!’

‘And now she’s lying to her superiors.’

Max steps between them. His twin takes on the incredulous expression that heralds future violence, while Jo-lee cowers behind him. ‘Right. But she’s my daughter.’ He rubs at the stubble of his chin, slow and thoughtful. ‘So I should be the one to beat the truth out of her.’

Maxi folds her arms. ‘Alright.’

*

The kid jumps onto one of the crates. He turns slowly on the spot, wobbling a little but keeping balance. Satisfaction is short-lived, however. The rotation has brought another crate into view. A higher crate. It is smaller than the one the kid currently stands on and less secure. But it is higher. The jump required is by no means certain for little legs. The kid chews thoughtfully, weighing the options. He probably shouldn’t. He is quite comfortable where he is.

But the other crate is higher.

Vesper sits against a nearby stack, rubbing her empty belly. ‘Do you think they’ll be long? I’m starving.’

Duet has stood by the door since they left, fingers curled around the hilt of her sword. ‘This isn’t right.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘That man. His skin …’

‘I know. Do you think it hurts?’

She shoots Vesper a quick glare then resumes her vigil at the door. ‘Who cares? He’s tainted. We can’t trust him.’

‘The other one seemed friendly.’

‘He was oilier than a fish. I say we go now and take our chances.’

‘Go where? We have no food. We’re exhausted. If what he said was true then we can’t just go walking the streets.’

‘Maybe he made that up to keep us here.’

Vesper shrugs. ‘Maybe.’

Footsteps approach the door, then stop. Vesper instinctively reaches for the pistol that once weighed down her pocket. It is gone, leaving her fingers to make a fist around empty air.

Duet’s sword is in her hand, blade held high, ready to strike.

The door opens.

Bruise walks in, hefting a bag. It drops from his fingers when he sees Duet. ‘Fuck!’ Slowly, he puts up his hands. ‘It’s only me.’

‘I can see that,’ she replies, closing the door but keeping her sword up. ‘What’s in the bag?’

‘Food, like we promised.’

‘Show us. No fast moves.’

Vesper murmurs an apology as Bruise opens the bag. Inside are a trio of cooked lizards, each the size of a puppy and run through with a stick. They bear expressions of profound surprise.

Duet’s sword wavers, her nose wrinkling behind her visor. ‘What are they?’