A few days later, with the walls of Amicae towering ahead again, something white-hot seared through Laura’s finger.
“Ow!”
Laura shook her hand with a snarl of pain. She felt as if she’d touched a hot stove. She had half a mind to pull off her ring, but already the feeling had died down to smarting.
“Anything wrong?” Cherry looked back while her horse continued its slow, steady pace.
“Nothing. Just this stupid ring.” Laura twisted it ruefully. “Maybe it caught on something.”
“I think that was magic,” said Okane. He rubbed his own hand, as if he’d been zapped too. “The rings are amulets, right? All Sweeper amulets are rigged for something. Like the ones on our belts affect the ones in our shoes. I think something else affects these.”
Few spells can actually be utilized. A flicker of memory: Clae striding through a train, carpetbag held fast. I put one on the Eggs, sends an SOS to my amulets.
“An SOS,” she muttered.
Cherry frowned. “Is someone in trouble?”
“The armory. Okane, Amelia said the armory sends a signal to Sweeper rings.”
Okane looked horrified, and he had every right to be. The armory had Clae and Anselm inside it.
“You’re not going to that place, are you?” Cherry said suspiciously. “You told us you were going straight to your investigator, before any other bullshit comes up. If you’re right about who’s involved, you need help immediately. Don’t make any stops.”
“The armory has all of the Amicae Sweepers’ magic equipment inside it,” said Laura. “If something happens to it, we’re not the only ones sunk. The entire city could be in danger.”
Cherry crossed her arms in a huff. “In that case, we’re going with you. Your boss can wave a gun around all she wants, but I’m faster on the draw. She’ll have to think twice before threatening you.”
“- - -’d do that?” said Okane, surprised.
“I’m taking this escort job seriously.” Cherry sat straighter in the saddle, eyes narrowed. “Now what is that?”
It looked like the entirety of the Ranger district awaited them in the city’s doorway. Rangers and horses milled around in an angry cloud. One of the closest Rangers sat on a scruffy pony, her face marred by burn scars. Cherry obviously knew this one; she trotted up beside her and asked, “What’s going on?”
“I’m not coming back to Amicae anytime soon, that’s what’s happening,” said the woman. “They’re kicking us all out. No Rangers allowed for the foreseeable future.”
“Can they do that?” Laura gasped.
“Sure can. We’re technically only satellite citizens,” said the woman.
“That’s never been an issue before,” said Cherry. “What’s started this?”
“Rumor has it that the mobs are recruiting us,” said the woman. “It’s a load of crap, but this is the same place that bought the idea of walls being impervious to monsters. Common sense really isn’t fashionable here.”
“Well, I’ve got a job to finish,” said Cherry. “We’re getting in.”
“Good luck,” said the woman. She gave them a mocking wave as they passed.
The other Rangers didn’t try stopping them. They grumbled and parted slowly, so before long the group had made its way to the front. The city side of the entryway was blocked off by a line of soldiers.
“Excuse me,” Cherry called. “Who do I talk to, to get into the city?”
“Rangers are not permitted inside the walls at this time,” snapped another man; this one wore the same uniform as the people who’d let them out five days ago. “Turn around and go somewhere else.”
“I have business in Amicae,” Cherry insisted. “I’m escorting your Sweepers back from an extermination, and I’m not leaving their side until I get them back to their head Sweeper.”
“Sweepers?” the guard scoffed. “As if we’d send Sweepers into the wild. That’s ERA’s job.”
“It should be, but here we are,” Laura said loudly. “Do you need IDs? Because we can show you right now.”
The guard spluttered. He doubled back to the soldiers and held a hushed conversation before returning.
“The Sweepers can enter once we confirm their identities. You, on the other hand, have no ID, have no clearance, and have no business here. You need to leave with the rest of the Rangers.”
Cherry looked tempted to argue, but Laura broke in: “We can do that.”
“I said I was going to get you there safe,” said Cherry.
“You got us out into the wilds and back again,” said Laura. “Thank you for all your help, but I think we’ll be okay from here. Really, if you’re not involved yet, I don’t think you want to be, and I don’t think you should.”
“I feel like I’d be abandoning you otherwise,” Cherry grumbled.
“Don’t worry. We may not know the wilds, but we definitely know our way around Amicae.”
That got Cherry to smile again, if only slightly. “If you’re that confident, I won’t argue with you. Just don’t do anything stupid, all right?”
“Right,” said Laura.
She and Okane dismounted. Grim gathered their horses’ reins without a word. Laura didn’t feel nearly as close to him as she did to Cherry now, but he’d been steadfast through the entire endeavor, and she still couldn’t shake that feeling of familiarity. She paused beside him and said, “Really, thank you for all the help.”
Grim made a motion that could’ve been a shrug or maybe just a shiver. “Good luck,” he said, before backing the horses away from the lines.
Laura and Okane approached the guard. He made a big deal of looking over their IDs before allowing them entry. The soldiers watched them pass, silent and expressionless. With Amicae’s stone underfoot, Laura turned and waved. Cherry waved back, and Grim lifted a hand too.
“I wonder if maybe we should’ve stayed with them,” Okane murmured. “They could’ve taken us to one of the other cities. Didn’t that Canis Sweeper say other cities were willing to shelter us?”
“I considered it,” Laura admitted. Even now as the Rangers turned away, part of her wanted to run after them and beg for more help. A larger part of her said she was in the right place. “I’m honestly scared of what the MacDanels have managed to do in the little time they’ve been here. But if we run away, that means they keep going as they want. I’m not willing to let them do that, and I’m not willing to leave Clae here.”
No sooner had the Sweepers set foot on Fortore Street than an ambulance roared past. They had to scramble over the curb to avoid being flattened.
“Damn driver needs his eyes checked,” Laura grumbled.
Okane seemed more concerned with the direction it had gone. “It’s headed toward the armory.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“But if - - -’re sure the rings sent an SOS, and it came from the armory—”
“Maybe something happened nearby?”
“Enough to trigger a spell? Or maybe—what if something got Clae riled up? As a crystal, he’s got no sense. No rationality. He’s just angry. What if something woke him up and got him really mad?”
“You think an infestation picked here of all places to go crazy?”
Despite her scoffing, worry gnawed at Laura’s stomach. It only got worse as they grew closer. They noticed the smoke first. It billowed, gray and foreboding, as the outskirts of a crowd came into view. A fire truck loomed amid a sea of black police uniforms. It seemed as if every single one of them was shouting something.
“Where’s the fire?”
“Get that stretcher over here! We’ve got a man down!”
“Take your available men and spread out! If we shut down the cable cars we can trap them!”
Hovering by the edge of activity, Laura spotted a familiar bowler hat. She made toward it, calling, “Byron!”
Byron turned. It took a moment for him to spot them, but he waved them closer. “There you are. I stopped by the shop a few days ago and you were gone. Not even your aunt knew where you went. Where have you been?”
“On assignment in the wilds,” Laura replied. “We just got back. What’s going on?”
“There’s been an attack on the Sweeper building.” Byron nodded at the scene, chewing thoughtfully on his pipe. “I’d investigate further, but there’s a city bigwig on-site.”
“Bigwig like a head Sweeper?”
“Inspector. We’ve got some bad blood, so if he sees me all hell will break loose. I’ll have to get the lowdown from Heather later. I haven’t seen either of the MacDanels, but that doesn’t mean they’re not here.”
A great whirring, clatter, and bang rose from the buildings ahead. A majority of the police ducked on instinct, but some, like Byron, gave only the smallest wince.
“The door’s been making that racket ever since I got here. If you’ve got any idea how to fix it, I’m sure they’ll thank you,” he said.
The armory still stood, colored windows gleaming through the smoke issuing from the garage door. It looked as if someone had hacked the bottom corner enough for it to curl outward. The main entrance had been propped open with thick steel instruments. Strange gears and parts could be glimpsed on the back of the door; they ground to life, shaking and shrieking under the strain before the door jerked inward. The steel buckled slightly, accompanied by a hideous noise. Judging by the amount of damage to the crumpled metal, this had been going on awhile. A policeman flinched in his spot on the stairs before noticing them.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “This is a crime scene.”
“He owns the building.” Laura gestured at Okane.
The policeman paused. “We’ve already got—”
“Owner?” As the door shuddered, another familiar face peered out. Amelia hurried outside, flinging her arms wide.
“There you are! Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick!” She rested a hand on each of their shoulders, leaned close, and whispered, “The Gin is gone. I didn’t get here in time.”
Laura felt like she’d been doused in cold water.
“What?” Okane breathed.
“The Kin equipment upstairs has been scattered. All of the Gin’s gone.”
“Who did it?” said Laura. “Do you know?”
Amelia didn’t get to reply. Juliana appeared from the armory now, too. Laura tensed at the sight, bracing herself for the worst. Would Juliana be angry that they weren’t dead already? Would she try pulling the gun on them again?
“Oh, thank goodness!”
Juliana descended the stairs and threw her arms around Okane. He went rigid in her grip.
“I was so worried!” Juliana continued, and were those tears in her eyes? “You were gone so long, I thought they must’ve got you, too!”
“Who are you talking about?” said Laura.
Amelia pointed at the building. Something glinted on the siding: dark purple paint to match the door. With its similar color and all the people moving around it, Laura had totally missed the circle.
Mobs, she thought immediately, but paused. Every circle she’d seen used as a mobster target had been carefully, painstakingly applied. The MARU feared its perfect shape: unyielding, unending, harsh in the cleanliness of its single line. This circle looked hastily splashed, almost oblong. Besides, a circle was a threat. A target. Not a calling card.
This isn’t right, Laura thought. This is another shot at framing them.
And who had already used the Mad Dogs as a distraction once before? Her gaze turned to Juliana. Juliana held Okane at arm’s length now, looking at him like a mother inspecting a long-lost child.
“Are you hurt at all? The mobs didn’t do anything to you, did they? Their infestation didn’t catch you?”
“Please let go of me,” said Okane.
When Juliana made no move to do so, Laura stepped in and swatted her hands down. “We haven’t seen any infestations or mobsters today,” she said firmly. “We just got back from a job you sent us on.”
“I’d love to hear about it,” said Juliana, “but I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until this situation is resolved. If Amelia’s right, then the city’s Sweeper force is at a total standstill. If we don’t get going again fast—”
“I’m sorry, could you move?” said the policeman. “The second stretcher is coming out.”
The Sweepers stepped aside. EMTs ducked under the steel parts, bearing a stretcher between them. Laid out upon it was a young man. Laura had never seen him before, but his face seemed hauntingly familiar. He had silver eyes, the exact same shade as Okane’s. Those eyes stared, glassy and empty at the sky, stark in a horribly pale face. A number tattoo had been inked onto his left cheekbone.
“Rex?” Okane watched his passing with a sickened expression.
“That’s right,” said Amelia. “I was first on the scene and found him. He’d been caught in one of the traps. It shouldn’t have killed him, but he just kept bleeding. He spouted a bunch of Rexian propaganda at me before giving up the ghost, and threw a fit when Juliana tried to stop the bleeding.”
“There’s no sign of my brother in there, is there?” said Juliana.
“None.”
Albright came alongside them now, brow furrowed and arms crossed.
“There was only the one body inside, and no additional blood,” said Albright. “The intruders obviously struggled to escape afterward, but in the process of looting?” She shook her head. “This lockdown is so extensive I can’t even see what’s normally stored here, let alone whether it was disturbed.”
“I wish Amicae’s banks had this kind of security,” the other policeman sighed.
“This isn’t the time for jokes,” said Albright. “Miss MacDanel, I’m sorry, but there’s no evidence that your brother’s been here at all. We’ll continue to look for him. In the meantime we can assume that this was a direct attack on our Sweepers. I want you all to return to the shop and stay there for the time being. We’ll have a large guard assigned to you.”
“Of course,” said Juliana. “Whatever the attackers were looking for, they didn’t find it here. We won’t let them attack our headquarters, too.”
Albright nodded. “Baxter, bring them back. Take your unit along, too. Make sure no one so much as sets foot on Acis if you find them suspicious. Miss Huxley, please remain here for now. We’ll need your help undoing the security.”
Amelia gave her a blank look. “I’m on the Sweeper payroll. You ordered Sweepers to the shop.”
“Regardless, we’re in need of your expertise.”
“I’d rather go with them.”
Albright frowned. “It’s not a request. We’ll bring you to the shop after you help us.”
“Or we could stay,” Laura said quickly. She didn’t want to go back to the Sweeper shop, to the exact place they’d been cornered last time. “I’m sure we could help.”
“You are targets,” Albright insisted. “We need you in a safe, easily defensible place. This isn’t a good location. Follow Baxter.”
Amelia scowled. She grabbed Laura’s arm, leaned close, and whispered, “Whatever you do, make sure one of those officers is in the room with you at all times. I got a weird letter from Melody Dearborn, and Juliana wanted me to leave the scene as soon as I got here. Don’t trust her.”
“I already know,” said Laura. “If you get the chance, there’s an inspector here in the crowd. Byron Rhodes. Send him over as fast as possible. He knows the situation, too.”
Amelia nodded and drew back. Albright watched this with a furrowed brow, but she didn’t pursue that curiosity when Amelia joined her. Laura climbed into the back of Baxter’s car, and the Sweepers left Fortore. Another police car took the lead, and still more followed behind.
“It’s like a funeral procession,” Laura murmured.
“Hopefully not,” said Okane. “What was that earlier, about an infestation? And how long do - - - think Lester’s been missing?”
Juliana spoke to Baxter in the front seat, grilling him about how, exactly, the Council would be alerted to the situation.
“The mobs can get away with anything now,” she said. “Steps need to be taken to limit their influence. If the city can’t even protect their Sweepers, that’s a city doomed to fail. We need more protections. We need more people. We need more funding for those people.”
Baxter nodded along but didn’t answer. He couldn’t possibly have any sway in the matter.
At long last they arrived at the Sweeper shop. Natsu sat on her front stoop and watched them pull in, suspicion written all over her features. When men started climbing out of cars and setting up stations, she slinked back into the pawnshop.
“Thank you for the ride,” said Juliana. “We’ll rest easy with you watching over us.”
As the Sweepers crossed the street, Laura caught a snippet of the nearby officers’ conversation:
“Hasn’t Miss MacDanel’s brother gone missing? I’m surprised she’s acting so normally.”
“It’s called a level head. Goes to show she’s a professional.”
Or maybe she was calm because Lester hadn’t gone missing at all. Maybe this simply painted Juliana as the triumphant victim, just in time for another newspaper highlight. But if so, how could they plant a Rexian? Why?
Laura’s mind spun as they stepped into the shop. Okane sucked in a harsh breath. He strode around the counter and stopped by the stairwell door. Its handle and lock shone brighter than Laura had ever seen, but more than that, its shape was off. Close, but wrong. Replaced. Okane’s hand trembled over it before clenching into a fist.
“It’s nice to be away from prying eyes,” said Juliana, as she pulled down the window blinds. She sounded downright casual, as if she hadn’t broken into Okane’s home, as if she hadn’t held them at gunpoint and sent them into a death trap.
Laura seethed. She spun on her heel, ready to snap, but faltered as hands came up to cup her face.
“Why are you here, Laura?” said Juliana, but it came across more like teasing than accusing.
“I’m an Amicae Sweeper,” Laura growled.
“And what would you do to keep Amicae safe?”
“Anything. Including going against you.”
She expected backlash, but Juliana only laughed.
“See?” she said. “There’s no trouble talking with her in the room. We’re all willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done. So long as we’re all on the same page, there’s nothing to worry about.” She sashayed away to settle on a stool, crossed her ankles, and smiled. “So, is Lester waiting to rendezvous with us?”
Silence. It took a moment for Laura to realize what was going on. Before they’d gone into the wilds, Lester acted as if Okane knew everything. Laura assumed they’d known otherwise when he insisted he knew nothing, but no. Juliana honestly still believed he was involved. Okane had obviously reached the same conclusion.
“I’ve been out in the wilds for the last five days,” he said slowly. “Anything that’s happened since has happened outside of my knowledge.”
Juliana rolled her eyes. “I know you’re not your boss, but you must have some idea of what’s going on. Didn’t you make a plan for everything?”
“Plans change easily,” said Okane. “I might have a better idea if I know the circumstances. Could - - - explain to me the whole situation? Just for clarity. I’m sure that - - -r…” He gestured awkwardly at Laura. “… new collaborator will appreciate it, if she’s involved now.”
“There’s just no getting around her involvement.” Juliana shrugged dramatically. “She sticks her nose in too many things and doesn’t let them go. I would’ve thought you’d try harder to divert her attention, but I suppose, you being what you are…” She gave him a mocking, piteous look. “You’re not exactly built to keep a lady’s attentions, are you? That said, if you were that determined to keep her in the dark, there must be a reason for it. You want her alive. She must fit into the plan somehow.” Finally she turned to Laura. “You were right, we did have a secret. A glorious secret. Lester and I made a contract to power Amicae’s abilities. I told you I’d ensure our success, didn’t I?”
Laura felt cold. “So you approached the couriers?”
“The what? You don’t really think I can appeal to newspaper boys for Sweeping.”
“No,” said Laura. “The wilds couriers. The people Rangers get scared of.”
“Ha! Rangers.” Juliana waved a hand dismissively. “I think you know what you’re talking about, you just have the wrong name. Really, think about it. There’s only one power in all of Orien that can properly take on infestations. We went to the best.”
Okane set a hand on the counter, as if he’d suddenly lost his balance. “So - - - turned to Rex.”
Rex? The idea floated disjointed in her head. How did Rex fit into this? She’d expected mobs. She’d expected Rangers. She expected couriers, whoever they were supposed to be. But then it clicked. Rex sent raiding parties into the wilds, Sweepers and otherwise. Rex would easily cut down satellite towns in their raids. Rex would happily kill off any Rangers they found, to keep alarms from spreading. With their frequent crusades, of course Rex would have powerful Eggs in their supplies. And of course, she knew where their contact had come from. Last year, before the Falling Infestation, before Laura had gone to Puer, three Rexian Sweepers had entered Amicae. Two had been captured, the third presumably to blame for the ruined bulwark and ensuing infestation. It had to be Theron. He’d lain low, looking for a chance to bring down a city for glorious Rex.
“What could you possibly get from Rex?” said Laura. “They’re out raiding satellite towns and enslaving anyone they don’t murder! They freely admit they want every other city dead, ourselves included! Why would you ever think they want to help us?”
“This is where your inexperience blinds you,” said Juliana. “If Rex really wanted to destroy other cities, it could do that easily. You know what they did to Thrax.”
“Oh, they want us all dead. The only problem is that all the cities are allied against them, so they won’t take the risk,” said Laura. “If you’re trying to ally with them, you’re just giving them an opening! You’ll fracture Amicae from the alliance and open the door for Rexian interference!”
“It’s so easy for Amicae’s citizens to fall for propaganda,” said Juliana. “I’ll bet you believed that story about the walls keeping you safe, too, didn’t you? Whatever. As wild as this sounds to you, the existence of other cities works as a boon for Rex. As other targets, we draw attention from infestations. Essentially, we cover Rex’s back while they attempt to kill the hive mind. It’s a mutually beneficial situation to begin with, but if we foster this relationship—”
“Mutually beneficial.” Laura’s hands curled into fists. “Is that what you think, when the raids get reported in the papers?”
“Anyone living in a satellite town has understood and embraced the danger of its existence,” said Juliana. “It’s not a happy story, but they could just as easily be taken out by infestations, wild animals, or even marauding Rangers. At least with Rex, we know the victims will be put to good use.”
“You bitch,” Laura hissed. “You absolute—”
“Now, now. Didn’t you just say you’d do anything to preserve Amicae’s safety?”
“You’re actively throwing that away!”
“As a Sweeper, my ultimate goal is protecting my new city from infestations.” Juliana stood again. She pulled aside the black drapes, reaching for something on the shelves. “With Amicae in the state it is, that’s going to be a difficult task. The Council talks a big game, but they don’t think the situation’s changed. The wall is no longer something they can hide behind, but it never worked in the first place, and Sinclairs operated ‘perfectly’ even without proper attention. They think we should be good little girls and accept what we’re told. Well, I’m not a demigod, and clearly neither are you. Whatever Clae Sinclair managed, it’s not an option for us.”
She found what she’d been searching for. Metal rasped as a broad, heavy knife emerged from its sheath. It looked like the dagger Juliana had wielded in the Sundown infestation, but its magical imprint wavered and its shape showed more violence than elegance. Juliana ran a finger lovingly over its flat edge.
“Remember when I told you how valuable that knife of mine was? Terulian versions are rare and hard to make, but Rex has magical weapons down to an art. Each of their Sweepers carries at least one of these. Good for clearing vegetation on campaigns to Kuro no Oukoku, and just as good for chopping infestations. This blade would otherwise cost us the same amount as purchasing this entire block of businesses. Our Rexian contact gave us the one he was carrying, but he promised us more. More blades, more Eggs, more assorted equipment. Even better, they’ll be giving us their kin recipe.”
Even friendly cities would never be so willingly helpful. Rex wanted something in return.
“In exchange for ours,” Laura whispered, “you sold them our Gin. Our Kin. Everything stored in the armory.”
“It’s not as if that junk was helping us,” said Juliana. “Puer prided itself on its advanced kin recipe, and here it barely did anything. Older Amicae equipment packed a punch, but you can’t replicate those, can you? It’s all useless. The only thing that can destroy infestations without question is Rexian technology, and they’ve proven it time and again. It won’t matter who or how many we arm. With Rexian equipment, one person could take down an infestation single-handedly. The Council will cheer about lower costs, and we’ll have done our duty. That said”—she raised the blade so it glinted in the dim light—“I won’t need a very big team, so I can be all the more selective about who’s with me. Do you plan to stand with me, or against me, Laura? I’d love another woman on the team, but you’d have to stay in line.”
Laura glared. “When is Rex supposed to be giving you all this? And what are you planning to do when they stick around and demand more?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we reach it,” said Juliana. “Your answer?”
Laura puffed herself up. “You already know my answer, and it’s hell no.”
“What a pity,” said Juliana. “We can’t have loose ends. Hold still. This shouldn’t hurt a bit.”
She raised the knife.
“Wait!” Okane threw himself between them. “If - - - want my services, I require that Laura stays unharmed.”
Juliana scoffed. “Could you make up your mind, already? So long as you can keep her quiet, fine. I’m not the one who has to explain it to your boss.” She rested the blade on her shoulder. “Let’s get down to business. We got your team into Amicae, into the armory, arranged your departure, and managed to set it all up to look like the mobs’ doing. I assume your boss left Lester with the cache of our first payment. Where is that? We’ll need to retrieve it.”
Okane stayed silent.
“Well?”
“Why do - - - think Rex would send in a squad and dump all of their functional equipment before going back into the wilds?” said Okane. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t have to make sense to me, so long as they make it work. Where’s the cache?”
“They wouldn’t do it,” said Okane.
“Where. Is. The. Cache.”
But Okane had no answer, and didn’t give one. Juliana kept glaring at him, but suddenly something occurred to her; her expression went blank.
“He said you were one of them. He said you were a sleeper agent, meant to make things run smoothly and keep Laura out of the way.”
“I’m not,” said Okane. “I’m sorry, Juliana, but they played - - -.”
Her lips spread in a savage grin. “So that’s it, then? Rex took everything and left me with nothing but a knife? Don’t pout at me, you two. This is more valuable than all the trash in that armory. I haven’t lost a damn thing.” She brandished the knife again, and it hummed with energy. “I do not get played. I get even.”
Both Laura and Okane took a wary step back. Okane’s eyes were glued to the blade.
“We’re not the ones who double-crossed - - -.”
“Save your breath,” said Juliana. “I can’t have this kind of information getting out. It’s all just business, and you’re both unnecessary surplus!”
On that last word, she swung the blade. Laura and Okane lurched in opposite directions. The blade hit hard enough to dig deep into the countertop, and the glass pane below shattered.
“You think I’ll let you run your mouth to the whole damn city?” Juliana wrenched the blade back out. “You think I’ll let you walk out of here free?”
She turned after Okane, still swiping. He kept one step ahead of it, his magic crackling as the blade whooshed an inch from his stomach. Laura cast around for weapons. She still had an Egg in her bag, but she wasn’t willing to use it now; not with so many other Eggs present that could catch under its energy, and not in such cramped quarters. Glass pieces from the old Kin setup still crowded the countertop, but what could a flask do against such a long knife? For lack of anything else, Laura snatched up one of the stools.
Okane tripped. He dropped backward with a yelp, catching at the counter for balance. Juliana aimed at his head, but Laura rushed her. She pinned Juliana to the counter’s side with the stool legs.
“Go get the police!” she cried.
Juliana snarled and swiped. Pinned as she was, she couldn’t gain much leverage, but the blade gouged the stool’s seat; it missed Laura’s face and hand by a hairsbreadth. She backpedaled on instinct, and only just managed to raise her defense again as Juliana followed. Every swing lopped off a piece of stool leg, and once she came close enough she chopped straight through the footrests. One of the legs fell off; another groaned at a weird angle. Juliana closed in. Something thudded against her back, and she stumbled. The object fell and broke on the floor, and only then did Laura realize it was a flask. Another glass container flew past them both and smashed against the wall.
“Keep - - -r eyes on me!” Okane barked.
Juliana turned for him again. Okane grabbed the largest of the glasswork and broke it on the counter; he brandished its splintered form by the neck.
Laura dropped the stool. She planted her foot on the underside of the seat and wrenched the longest remaining leg from its socket. She ran with it. Juliana had already slashed, Okane had already sidestepped. Juliana readied herself for another attack, but Laura wasn’t about to let that happen. She brought the stool leg down on the flat top of the blade. Juliana’s grip kept it from falling, but the angle made the wood slide straight down into her knuckles. Juliana screeched and dropped it. The blade clanged to the floor. Laura used the stool leg to hook and swat it away. The blade spun across the floor before coming to a slow stop just before the door.
Breathing hard, Laura aimed her improvised weapon at Juliana.
“You,” she panted, “are a traitor to Amicae.”
Juliana slumped against the counter, eyes wide and manic. “Who’s the traitor here?” she spat. “I, who tried to improve this place, or you, clinging to rotted traditions?”
“- - - didn’t even try to understand what those traditions are,” said Okane.
“I knew enough! I saw enough!”
Laura sighed. Seeing Juliana like a cornered animal was both disheartening and infuriating. Hadn’t she been so sharp? Hadn’t she been such a good Sweeper? All of her talents and all of her posturing for the media, wasted.
Laura shouldn’t have let her guard down.
Juliana smiled again, wide and cruel. “Don’t think you’ve won just yet.”
Her foot collided with Laura’s shin. Laura lost her balance with a squawk of surprise. Okane immediately moved to catch her. Juliana scrambled past them both and rushed for the door.
“Stop!” Laura shouted.
Juliana snatched up the fallen blade, but she didn’t face them. No, midstride, she cut open her own leg. Blood blossomed on her skirts as she caught the doorknob, and she threw the blade behind her. She burst outside, screaming, “Help! Help! They’re trying to kill me!”
What?
Laura tore after her and halted in the doorway.
The blinds might have been down, but the shouts and breaking glass had caught attention. Juliana had tottered straight into a policeman’s arms and now lay bleeding in the road, sobbing.
“It was them!” She pointed straight at Laura. “They’re with the Mad Dogs after all! They were ordered to get rid of me!”
The two officers present looked up at Laura. The first one curled his arms more protectively over Juliana, while the second drew his gun and shouted, “Drop your weapon!”
Laura’s mind crawled. Belatedly she realized she still held the stool leg; not a good first impression for this situation.
“It’s not what it looks like!” she said, and realized, again belatedly, that no one innocent ever said that at a crime scene.
“I said drop it!” said the policeman.
He looked ready to shoot regardless.
If the Council claims you’re a mobster, you’ll face worse even without proof, Haru had said. We know very well the lengths and cruelty the Council will stoop to.
Laura’s reputation had been tied to the Mad Dogs since the very first Dead Ringer article. It wasn’t much of a leap to make the connection now; to most people this incident would prove their suspicions. In their loathing for the mobs, these policemen wouldn’t question it or treat the Sweepers kindly. With this kind of leverage the Council could put Laura and Clae’s legacy to rest permanently. It didn’t matter that there was no proof. This would be the end.
Laura would not let it end.
“Eat shit, Juliana,” she spat, and grabbed behind her. She caught Okane’s wrist without a glance and towed him down the steps with her.
“Stop!” cried the policeman.
Laura dodged into the gap between Sweeper shop and pawnshop. The gun cracked behind her, and the bullet smashed pieces loose from the shop’s siding.
“Faster!” said Okane, and she obliged.
Behind the shop rose the high wall separating Acis Road from the residential area behind it. Laura and Okane dashed along it. Laura glanced through the thin alleys at Acis proper and glimpsed more running policemen, heard whistles blown, shouting. At last the gate came into view. Another officer stood there, confused by the noise but not yet aware of the trouble.
“Wait!” he called as they charged past him. “No one’s supposed to go in or—”
“You didn’t see us!” said Laura.
“But I—What?”
Apartment buildings rose about them now, towering higher than the Cynder Block and stretching in every direction. They passed laundry lines, trash cans, groups of chatting residents, a game of street baseball. This section of Amicae was little better than a labyrinth, made still harder by the number of people and hiding places. Laura never doubted that mobsters lurked here, and it disgusted her to think she was here to hide the same way they did. She only paused in the shadow of an apartment’s main doors. For a while she and Okane simply stood there, catching their breath.
“Where are we going?” said Okane.
“Away from there,” said Laura. “God, that Juliana makes me want to—Ooh, I should’ve hit her with that stick.”
“That would’ve made the situation worse,” said Okane.
“Would it? Because I think we’re at the brink of failure right now.” Laura sagged against the wall and closed her eyes, trying to shut out her frustration, but it didn’t work. Anger bubbled in her chest. “I can think of a few ideas, but for a plan … Byron will get facts, but no one will pay attention to facts if mobs are supposed to be involved.”
Okane studied the cracked pavement underfoot. “Should we approach the Mad Dogs for protection?”
“And prove her right? I don’t think so,” said Laura. “If we’re not playing into one person’s hands, we’re playing into another’s.”
Okane relaxed somewhat. “I hoped - - -’d say that. Regardless, I don’t think we have any support at this point, or anywhere to—Laura? What are - - - thinking?”
Laura clenched her hands so tight, her nails dug into her skin. “I know what I’m going to do, but you don’t have to come along.”
“And that is?”
“I’m going to Rex. If they really escaped with the MacDanels’ help, they can’t be far in front of us. Clae and Anselm aren’t totally out of our reach, and I’ll be damned if I let Rex do whatever they want with them. Clae’s letter talked about his fears if Anselm was discovered, and I don’t want any of those options to happen to either of them. I’ll get them back safe, and once I do that I can focus on fixing Amicae.”
Okane stayed quiet. Laura’s eyes remained fixed to the ground, but she heard his sigh and noticed when he started checking through his bag.
“We don’t have a lot of equipment left over from that wilds infestation. I’ve got a few Bijou, flash pellets—”
Laura looked up. “What? I just said, you don’t have to—”
“Clae was the closest thing I had to family and safety since my mother died. I’m not about to let someone desecrate his body. Besides.” He pulled his gun from its holster and popped it open, surveying the ammo inside with forced nonchalance. “I can’t let - - - invade a hostile city on - - -r own. That would make me a terrible friend.”
Laura cracked a smile. “Bringing you along probably makes me a terrible friend.”
“Truly, we’re irreversible mini-Claes,” said Okane.
“I can’t deny that.” She paused, then said, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Being you. I just remembered old school friends like Charlie, and let me tell you, they wouldn’t be ready to charge into Rex with me.”
“Losing our minds seems like a prerequisite for the job,” said Okane, but he seemed pleased. “The only weapon I have with much power is this gun, and it’s only got three bullets left.”
“I thought you brought some spring-loaders,” said Laura.
“I used most of them. The only one I have left is the round of Puer bullets, but I’m not about to try that.”
“You mentioned that before. Why was that, again?”
“They sort of rasp when they go in,” said Okane. “It’s not too unlike the Amicae variety, but they feel just a little too big. I keep getting scared that they’ll stick in the barrel instead of firing correctly.”
“That doesn’t sound like a terribly good idea.”
“No, it really doesn’t.”
“Then we’ll have to conserve those bullets,” said Laura. “I’m in the same state as you, just one Egg left. It’s probably for the best. Trains don’t welcome their customers carrying weapons; they think a robbery might happen.”
“Oh?” Okane perked up. “We’re taking the train?”
“I don’t see any other option for getting there,” said Laura. “You’ve heard of hobos, right?”