4
The City of Soot
George Cecil Jones was the fastest man alive. No other explanation existed for why, after more than four hours of chasing him, he still eluded me. Breathing hard, I leaned against the corner of a building, rough brick under my palm. I stood at the corner of…of…the divine only knew where. I lost my direction somewhere amid the twisting back alleys as Jones raced through like the wind itself. A horrid stench assailed my nostrils as I tried to still my swiftly beating heart. The locating spell I cast with the man’s hair nudged me northeast, eager for me to find him. I began to think it an impossible task.
A gust of wind blew across me, and I wrinkled my nose. No place in England smelled quite as foul as London. Even when the horse shit froze solid in the streets, the stink of filth permeated the air. I brushed a bit of snow fouled by the smokestacks from my shoulder and glanced at the soot-stained faces around me. Hard faces with hunger in their eyes. They barely spared me more than a glance before continuing about their business. I shook my head at the paradise of industry around me. Many touted the city as the heart of the British Empire, but its disgusting state spoke volumes of the Empire’s rule.
The pull of my spell grew weaker. Did Hermes himself carry the man? At this rate, if I wished to catch up, only one option remained.
Aleister, no. You will draw too much attention if you open a gate here, Vex said, his disapproval too reminiscent of my father.
Then I’ll find a more private spot.
I hurried across the street toward a dirty alley, squeezing between two plainly dressed women. I winked at one as our bodies brushed together and she blushed red. The thin gap between the buildings resembled a trash heap more than an alley. Nasty, but it kept others from lingering. I concentrated, following the pathways within until the swirling energies locked inside the fourth gate, the gate of air. With a hard push of will, it opened. Energy coursed through me, making my body airy and weightless.
A smile spread across my face as I opened my eyes. The power flowing from an open gate always left me feeling intoxicated. The energies from the air gate filtered the smog and ash, giving me the sweetest breath I’d taken since arriving in London. I focused the power into my legs, gathered the air behind, and launched myself down the alley with a sound like a cannonball. Opening the fourth gate lent me greater control over spells rooted in the element of air. Hermes might aid Jones, but as I blew through the alley, I felt like the Greek god himself.
The alley ended in a T-shaped intersection, and a small boy dressed in ragged clothes walked out from the left side. No time remained to stop before I crashed headlong into the lad, so I did the only thing I could and jumped. The boy heard me and watched wide-eyed as I sailed over him.
Putting so much into the jump forced me to twist in midair to keep from slamming into the wall. Focusing will into my soles to allow me a bit of traction, I planted my feel upon the brick and kicked off, taking the right branch to keep me heading toward Jones. The boy still gawked after me when I glanced over my shoulder.
I passed several more urchins in the alley, factory children mangled beyond repair. Many were missing fingers, hands, and one his entire left leg. The mills and workhouses chewed them up and spit them out as fast as the poor citizens of London could make them.
The alley ended and I found myself back on the main road where I slowed, not wishing to draw attention to myself. Carriages crisscrossed the busy street, the din of the crowd deafening. The people about seemed nicer dressed, and the slush gray instead of black. Jones felt closer now. If he slowed, I might overtake him.
A hunched woman slipped from the shadows of an awning next to me. Face hidden in the folds of the filthy thing she wore as a coat, she pawed at my jacket, saying, “Alms for a pitiful woman, sir? Help me fill my belly.”
“Away with you beggar, you’ll get no alms from me,” I waved her off, but when she lifted her face her hair looked brushed, and no dirt marred her skin.
“Well, maybe you can fill my belly with something else?” Her voice became sultry. She ran her tongue across her pink lips and opened her coat, revealing deliciously full breasts spilling out of her corset. I liked what I saw. She closed her coat and stepped back into a doorway. “Or if you don’t like me, we got others.”
Several other girls lingered on the street around the doorway, all wearing the same disgusting coats. Whores masquerading as beggars. Clever. I smiled at my propositioner and said, “My business takes me elsewhere tonight, madam. But rest assured, I’ll return soon. For all of you.”
She laughed, a sensual, throaty sound. “We’ll be waiting.”
Reluctantly, I turned and made my way down the street once more, the tracking spell insistent. As I passed, I caught a slight floral scent from within the brothel. Sex and opium. My kind of establishment.
I had almost caught up to Jones when he picked up his pace again, forcing me off the street and back into the alleys. The buildings here crowded so close it rendered magical speed useless. The alleys twisted and turned, hampering me further. I
