“Marcus?” Emily said. “I didn’t know he was military.”
“Neither did I. A man of surprises, our Marcus.”
“This guy, too,” Wilson said. “Gerrus. I know he wasn’t military. A very clever thief, but never military.”
“So maybe this isn’t a military list after all?” Emily asked. “Maybe it’s something else. A list of criminals?”
“I’ve seen the original. This is military, trust me.” I took the ID card out of my coat and set it next to the list, by Wellons’s name.
“You collect military records now, Jacob?” Emily asked.
“This I got off a body, up on the Heights. It was in the quarters of the Artificers, surrounded by dead Guildsmen.”
“A marine. You’re saying a marine killed a bunch of Artificers? Or someone killed them, and this guy tried to defend them, got himself popped?” Wilson grimaced. “Seems unlikely.”
“No. Our friend Wellons was long dead. At least a couple weeks.”
Emily and Wilson stared at me dully for a few breaths. Finally Emily nodded as though she understood.
“Huh,” she said.
“So.” Wilson murmured. He sat back on his heels. “So, we’ve got a list of people, with deceased dates two years old. Only we know two of them didn’t die two years ago. But both of those people are dead now. This is good.” He smiled. “This is meaty.”
“There’s more.” They both turned to look at me. “I think I know who Marcus was running from.”
“When he crashed the Glory?” Emily asked.
“Yeah. The guy I told you about, the one who jumped. I saw him again, up on the Heights.”
Emily got dead still. “You could have mentioned that.”
“Been busy getting shot. At least I think it was him. And he changed, he became some kind of… an angel.”
“Angel,” Emily said.
“Yeah. Wings of steel and cog, talons like knives. Angel.”
Wilson was staring at me. They both were. Didn’t blame them. Angels were part of the mythology of Veridon. The Church of the Algorithm claimed that the wreckage they strained from the river Reine was sent to them by angels of steel and wire. They claimed to have been visited by one specific angel, a girl named Camilla. She was sick, and they were able to help her. In exchange, she gifted them with the secrets of the river. No one believed it, not even me, and I had seen an angel. I had killed an angel.
“This is… unusual,” Wilson finally said. He was fiddling with his tool belt, worrying it between his thin fingers like a prayer chain. “What did he want?”
“The Cog. Everyone wants the Cog. I saw him with the Artificers, and again later after I did the deal with Prescott. Later that night, I thought to go talk to him, went to see the Artificers. There was Wellons’s body, dead Guildsmen, the Summer Girl missing. He killed Prescott, probably thought I’d given the Cog to him, then came after me. Nearly killed me.”
“You’re a hard man to kill,” Wilson said.
“We’ve covered that. And you’re right, I am. I put him down. Her, it turned out.”
“Her?”
“There was a performance that night. The Summer Girl. It was her, the angel was her. When she died, the bugs fell away, the angel dissolved. There was just her.”
“That’s awful,” Emily said. “Gods, you killed that girl?”
“No. I killed that monster,” I hunched over the list, gathered up my coat. “I didn’t know.”
“What is this Cog?” Wilson asked. I sat up and looked at him.
“Not sure. I picked it up off a dead friend. Marcus here,” I said, pointing to the list. “Things have been weird ever since.”
“I have that problem sometimes,” Wilson said. “Dead friends leave strange gifts. This friend of yours, he brought you this Cog?”
“It ended up in my hands.” I stood up. The ruined ceiling was close. “I gave it to Emily to look after. See if she could find anything out about it.”
Wilson looked to Emily. “You could have brought it to me.”
“Things got strange,” she said, not turning around. “I had to ditch it fast. Some people showed up at my place, then Jacob got shot. It got complicated.”
“So.” Wilson said. “Angels and Councilmen. This must be one hell of a Cog.” He turned to Emily. “Where is it?”
“Tomb has it. I gave it to the Family Tomb.”
I nodded and loosened the revolver in my holster. The hammer was smooth and warm under my thumb.
“Complicated,” I said.
Chapter Seven
Emily explained. Part of the deal Tomb had going with Valentine involved safe houses. Tomb was one of the most successful of the old families, one of the few to maintain both power and money. They had interests all over Veridon. Valentine was borrowing some of those interests, to hide people and things he needed put quietly away when there was trouble. Emily was aware of the deal, and took advantage. The Cog was buried in one of Tomb’s houses, safe as it could be.
Right where we couldn’t get to it. Right where we’d have to be crazy to break in.
“How do you know about that?” I asked.
“What, The hiding places? I arranged the deal.”
“Not according to Valentine. He told me it was true, that he had been talking to the Tombs, but no one knew it. Not even you.”
Emily flinched and sat down. “Let’s chalk it up to self interest.”
“How?” I asked.
“I’ve been snooping around Valentine, months now. There’s a lot of money going into that operation that’s just disappearing.” She gave me a sick look. “I’m just trying to get a piece. Looking out for myself, I guess.”
“And you found out about his secret deals with one of the Founding Families?” Wilson asked. “That’s some deep secret you dug up.”
“It wasn’t easy. The Tombs were overconfident. One of their couriers…” she looked embarrassed and shot me a hot look. “He likes me. So. I found out.”
“Well. You could have mentioned that earlier.”
“You don’t react well, when I bring up that side of my life.”
I shrugged. Wilson chuckled. “So what now?” he asked.
“You put it there,” I said. Emily was facing away from us again, a little pale. “You can get it back. Right?”
“I was about to say. That’s what I was trying to do, while you were laid up at Wilson’s.” She shifted in her seat. “It’s gone.”
“Gone? What, like someone came through and cleared the place out? Stole it?”
“No, just it. Just the Cog. Everything else was the same, near as I could tell.”
“You tell anyone else you put it there?”
“No.”
“So someone magically guessed that it was there, broke in, and took just that.”
Emily squirmed. “They didn’t break in. There are signs, trustlocks that have to be maintained. Someone in on the deal had to take it. No one else knows the patterns.”
“The deal? The one between Valentine and Tomb, you mean?”
“Yeah, that deal.” Emily turned to look at me. She looked sorry. “So someone on the inside. Valentine’s people, or Tomb’s. No one else knows.”
