it to me, if you're wondering," she
said. Behind me.
I spun, bully whipping around the small dock, seeing
nothing but black wood and blacker water, not a glimmer of movement. Nothing.
"Where the hell are you?" I spat. Voice down.
Didn't want Owen and his boys to hear me and come storming in. No telling what
she'd do.
"I am here," she said, from everywhere.
"What are you going to do when you catch me?"
"It's what you're going to do, bitch. You're going to
tell me what you did with the Fratriarch. You're going to tell me where he is,
who has him, why. You're going to talk. You're going to wish you had never
gotten away."
"You make it sound so ... appealing." Her voice
was breathy, near and then far, always quiet. "Maybe I won't let you find
me."
"Let? Let! I'll find you, girl. I'll hunt you from
here to Everice, to the halls of the Rethari swine. I'll kill every
Brother-damn one of your ragged friends that get in my way, and every one of
them that doesn't. I'll find you wherever you hide."
"Yes, I suppose you will," she said. There was a
crackle, and her voice changed. Became more real, more local. "And I can't
have that."
A sound came from above, a winch unwinding rapidly. I
cleared the floor with my bully and drew my sword, switching guard directions
as quickly as I could breathe. She dropped into the middle of the dock, some
kind of mechanical pulley in one hand, the trailing edge of a rope in the
other. The rope disappeared a dozen feet above the ground, as though it was
magicked into thin air. A mask hung around her throat, dangling across her
white clavicle like a necklace. A very complicated thing, with speakers and
breathing tubes and wide buckles that had been unclasped. She snapped the rope
and it fell, like a magician's trick.
"I just can't have you chasing them. You're a monster,
Eva Forge. If I can keep you out of their lives, I will. It's all I can
do."
I lowered the bully at her chest and snarled. She held her
hands up in surrender, dropping the rope and the pulley. I motioned to the
mask, and she worked it free from her neck and sent it clattering to the
ground. No other weapons that I could see.
"You should gag me, if you're worried."
"I'll leave the worrying to you. Owen, you can come
out now," I said, pocketing the pendant. The hatch swung open and Owen and
his boys exited, sparking up their lamps as they came. The room looked pretty
much as it had under the influence of the Fellwater. Gray and cold and wet.
Cassandra squinted at them, and I realized she had been seeing without light.
Not something I knew about the Scholars. Now I could see that her right hand
was in some sort of glove, metal laced into flesh. I remembered seeing that
hand after the wreck, bending all sorts of wrong.
Owen started when he saw the girl, then gave a crisp nod
and motioned to his boys. Always the leader. They surrounded her, guns held at
her tiny chest. She made no move.
"Where did the rest of them go?" he asked me.
"Was there a ship?"
"Beats me. Probably. You think all those kids swam
out?"
"Seems unlikely." He turned to Cassandra, who was
staring blankly up to the ceiling. "What do you say, kid. Boat?"
She didn't answer.
I shrugged. "Yeah. So. They have a boat."
"Maybe someone ..." He paused, cocking his head
at a curious angle. "Huh."
"What?" I asked, then a gunshot echoed sharply
down from the spiral staircase. Yelling, more shooting, then feet on metal.
Owen grabbed me as he ran by. I shot the girl a look and then followed up the
stairs.
The staircase was chaos. Lots of people rushing down, a
couple of us rushing up. The ones coming down were hurt. Blood on their faces,
or their shirts. One guy was dragging a body. The limp's head was bouncing on
each metal step, thumping meatily and leaving bits behind. I made a note not to
get shot on a staircase, or at least not get shot in such a way that some fool
felt compelled to drag me out.
The firefight was on us quick. Heavy bullistic fire came in
short
said. Behind me.
I spun, bully whipping around the small dock, seeing
nothing but black wood and blacker water, not a glimmer of movement. Nothing.
"Where the hell are you?" I spat. Voice down.
Didn't want Owen and his boys to hear me and come storming in. No telling what
she'd do.
"I am here," she said, from everywhere.
"What are you going to do when you catch me?"
"It's what you're going to do, bitch. You're going to
tell me what you did with the Fratriarch. You're going to tell me where he is,
who has him, why. You're going to talk. You're going to wish you had never
gotten away."
"You make it sound so ... appealing." Her voice
was breathy, near and then far, always quiet. "Maybe I won't let you find
me."
"Let? Let! I'll find you, girl. I'll hunt you from
here to Everice, to the halls of the Rethari swine. I'll kill every
Brother-damn one of your ragged friends that get in my way, and every one of
them that doesn't. I'll find you wherever you hide."
"Yes, I suppose you will," she said. There was a
crackle, and her voice changed. Became more real, more local. "And I can't
have that."
A sound came from above, a winch unwinding rapidly. I
cleared the floor with my bully and drew my sword, switching guard directions
as quickly as I could breathe. She dropped into the middle of the dock, some
kind of mechanical pulley in one hand, the trailing edge of a rope in the
other. The rope disappeared a dozen feet above the ground, as though it was
magicked into thin air. A mask hung around her throat, dangling across her
white clavicle like a necklace. A very complicated thing, with speakers and
breathing tubes and wide buckles that had been unclasped. She snapped the rope
and it fell, like a magician's trick.
"I just can't have you chasing them. You're a monster,
Eva Forge. If I can keep you out of their lives, I will. It's all I can
do."
I lowered the bully at her chest and snarled. She held her
hands up in surrender, dropping the rope and the pulley. I motioned to the
mask, and she worked it free from her neck and sent it clattering to the
ground. No other weapons that I could see.
"You should gag me, if you're worried."
"I'll leave the worrying to you. Owen, you can come
out now," I said, pocketing the pendant. The hatch swung open and Owen and
his boys exited, sparking up their lamps as they came. The room looked pretty
much as it had under the influence of the Fellwater. Gray and cold and wet.
Cassandra squinted at them, and I realized she had been seeing without light.
Not something I knew about the Scholars. Now I could see that her right hand
was in some sort of glove, metal laced into flesh. I remembered seeing that
hand after the wreck, bending all sorts of wrong.
Owen started when he saw the girl, then gave a crisp nod
and motioned to his boys. Always the leader. They surrounded her, guns held at
her tiny chest. She made no move.
"Where did the rest of them go?" he asked me.
"Was there a ship?"
"Beats me. Probably. You think all those kids swam
out?"
"Seems unlikely." He turned to Cassandra, who was
staring blankly up to the ceiling. "What do you say, kid. Boat?"
She didn't answer.
I shrugged. "Yeah. So. They have a boat."
"Maybe someone ..." He paused, cocking his head
at a curious angle. "Huh."
"What?" I asked, then a gunshot echoed sharply
down from the spiral staircase. Yelling, more shooting, then feet on metal.
Owen grabbed me as he ran by. I shot the girl a look and then followed up the
stairs.
The staircase was chaos. Lots of people rushing down, a
couple of us rushing up. The ones coming down were hurt. Blood on their faces,
or their shirts. One guy was dragging a body. The limp's head was bouncing on
each metal step, thumping meatily and leaving bits behind. I made a note not to
get shot on a staircase, or at least not get shot in such a way that some fool
felt compelled to drag me out.
The firefight was on us quick. Heavy bullistic fire came in
short
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