directions.
“That shit’s illegal.”
“We’re all illegal, Jacob. And I thought you might be coming by. Now,” he folded his napkin with one hand and nodded to the nearest exit. “I have an arrangement with the guard. If you’d be so kind. And leave your piece on the table.”
I laid my pistol among the ruins of his dinner and stood. He slipped my gun into his coat and followed me out. As we walked, he stayed far enough behind to keep me from taking him by surprise, but close enough that he was sure to hit with his first shot. No one looked at us as we left. He’d done this before.
“So, all that stuff you told me before, you make all that up?” I asked.
“Of course not, my boy. More of an investment. I suspect the people we’re going to see will have some questions for you. You’ll serve as a fine messenger. Let them know what I know, what I’ve managed to connect. Maybe I can sell them something.”
“I’ll just lie. They won’t hear what you want them to hear.”
Four chuckled. “The way they ask questions? No, you will tell them what you know. Everything you know.”
We went outside. The guard even held the door for us, smiling, then locked up behind us. There was a carriage in the alley, its engine already alive. We got in. The driver’s compartment was separate from the passenger’s seating. I sat across from Matthew. He drew the curtains and we rumbled off, the driver going faster than was wise on Veridon’s narrow roads.
“So,” I asked. “Who’s buying me?”
“Patience, Jacob. You’ll have plenty of time for questions once you’re delivered.”
“Sounds like they’ll be asking the questions, and I’ll be in no shape to ask my own.”
“Oh, no, no. You misunderstand. They’re not going to beat the answers out of you. Nothing so primitive, my boy.”
I sat with my hands in my lap.
“They’re not going to hurt me? Did they tell you this, or is it just a lie you need to believe, to salve whatever conscience still survives in that powdered skull of yours?”
He grimaced and poked the pistol in my direction.
“You won’t be hurt. Not your body at least. They’ve been very clear about that.”
“They’ve been clear. Because when they told you to take me, they also told you to bring me in unharmed.”
“Well…” he flexed his fingers around the trigger of his pistol. He was holding the grip white-knuckle tight.
“Which means you won’t be shooting me with a load of Bane. Will you?”
He raised the pistol. “Is that a risk you’re willing to-”
I was. I lunged, ducking down. By the time he realized his error, finished calculating the risk of displeasing his masters versus the imminent threat of my attack, it was too late. I had my hand on his shoulder. The shot went wide. The metal wall of the carriage sizzled. I punched the old man twice, then hissed as a blade went into my shoulder. I batted the pistol out of his hand and looked down to see the other wrapped around the hilt of a knife that was digging around for my lung.
“I’m sorry, Jacob,” he said through gritted teeth. “Things change. We have to move with the tide.”
I broke his wrist, broke his arm and then plucked the knife out of my shoulder and put it into his throat. His powdered face flushed, then drained of color and he went limp. The driver was yelling. I banged on the wall of the carriage and we slid to a halt. By the time I got out, the driver had ditched and was disappearing around the corner of the nearest darkened alleyway.
The side of the carriage was brittle from the Bane. Not much good against inorganic material, certainly not as dangerous as it was to flesh. I picked up the pistol and checked the cylinder. The rest of the load was normal shot. It rarely took more than one. I fished my gun out of Matthew’s pocket, then leaned over the carriage wheel and threw up. I left Matthew his pistol, crossed his jigsaw puzzle arms over his chest and closed his blank eyes.
I ran. It wasn’t more than a block before the blood stopped leaking out of my shoulder, and in another block the wound didn’t hurt at all. I tried the arm out, twisting it back and forth. I was fine. Wilson was right. Whatever artifact had been installed in my chest was mending me, and it was doing a better job of it. I felt less real every day.
The ease with which I’d killed Matthew was still settling in. I’d known the old man since before I went into the Academy. He had betrayed me, fair enough, but to throw him away like that… it didn’t matter. I could feel the desperation nagging at my heels. I didn’t like being desperate. I was done being desperate.
I stumbled into our hidden cistern and started gathering my things. Wilson was back, busy in his corner under a frictionlamp, Emily peering over his shoulder.
“Any luck?” Emily asked. Her voice betrayed none of our earlier awkwardness.
“Kind of. Had to kill an old friend. But I found out some interesting stuff.”
“That your method now? Beating secrets out of old friends?”
“Hardly. He forced my hand.”
“Who?”
“Matthew Four. He pulled a gun on me. Bane.”
“Shit,” Emily said. Wilson looked up.
“He wasn’t bluffing?” Wilson asked.
“Nope. He only had the one round, but it was the true thing.”
“Shit,” Emily said again, just to be clear. “Valentine’s not going to like that. Four was a resource.”
“I’m getting tired of other people’s resources, Em. Right now I’m taking care of myself.” I finished packing my things. “But like I said. Learned some good stuff.”
“What, exactly?” she asked. Wilson had turned back to his work.
I told them about Sloane and Tomb, and about the split that seemed to be forming in the Council. If the Founding Families were aligning against the new Councilors, the industrialists and the commercial mavericks who had been buying out the Council seats for the last twenty years, then things were going to get difficult. If that split centered around Marcus’s mission downfalls, and this Cog, then the complications were just going to get worse and worse.
“One thing’s for sure. If there’s a fight brewing in the Council, there aren’t going to be any neutral parties. In the city, or in the Council.”
“You think it’s that serious?” Emily asked.
“Maybe not yet,” I said. “But soon. Council trouble always spills out on the streets.”
“That’s how it was with the Guild,” Wilson said. “Disagreement among families, and a new ally in the Church of the Algorithm. They took a vote, and by the time the ballots were tallied there were Badgemen kicking in doors all over the city.” He nodded absently, not looking up. “It can get bad fast, Emily.”
“So what are you going to do?”
I straightened my jacket, did the best I could with my hair. Living under the streets was doing nothing for my reputation as a rogue noble.
“Time to talk to the Family, dear.” I sighed. “Time to make a little call home.”
Emily appeared thoughtful, as though there was something else she wanted to add but couldn’t decide if she should. I filed that.
“Stay safe,” she said, eventually. “And be careful who you believe.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I will.”
“I was hoping to beetle you again,” Wilson said, turning to face me. He had a small vial in hand. Something brown and shiny scuttled up its length.
“Gee, sorry to miss that,” I said. I checked the load in my revolver one more time and headed back up to the streets.
Chapter Ten
