The train arrived at exactly 2:06 in the morning. Clarence woke them all shortly beforehand and ushered them onto the walkways outside. Laura shivered in her borrowed coat and watched as a train came in from the west, its lights shining bright enough to be seen miles away. It moved much slower than the trains she was used to, but then again it was coming for them.
“This is the last scheduled train from Litus,” said Clarence, rubbing at his eyes under the glasses. “From here on, the railways are trying to cut off whatever trade Rex could steal.”
“What happens to Litus, then?” she asked.
“Canis will trade with them by boat. It’s not exactly convenient, but there’s no chance of raids that way.”
“Is this the same train that was going to Litus the day before yesterday?” asked Okane.
“I think that one’s at the port for Cor right now.”
Okane let out a shaky sigh, and Laura felt tempted to do the same. Facing Keya and Felix after their fiasco of a departure was the last thing she wanted to do.
The train came to a stop halfway through the gatehouse. With a rattle the roof of a cargo car came apart, each half rising like a drawbridge to reveal the inside. Three baggage handlers stood amid a mess of luggage, peering up at them.
“Hello there!” cried one, presumably the man in charge.
“Good morning!” Clarence called back. “I hope you don’t mind if we lower everything down?”
“That’s what we’re here for, sir!”
The two guards edged over, carrying a roughly hewn coffin between them—kept on hand in case the very people carrying it fell in the line of duty—and inside it lay Grim. Clae rested in a similar box, Anselm and the Gin in another. A crane machine jutted from the walkway, over the car. Clarence grabbed its cord, which ended in an odd harness, and they fitted the coffin into this. After a few test tugs they reeled it up so the box swung out into open air, then lowered it into the car. The baggage handlers caught and unhooked it before carrying it aside and coming back for the next. Soon all three coffins had been lowered this way, and the cord reeled back up. Clarence adjusted the harness, unclipping something here and reattaching it there, before presenting it to his audience.
“This isn’t foolproof, but it’s a harness for you. Who wants to go first?”
“I will,” said Laura.
Clarence guided her in, tightening a strap at her chest and directing her feet into the thicker loop at the bottom. Once it was secure, they swung her out; she clutched at the cord above the harness and tried not to think of falling. Soon enough hands caught her sides, steadying her and pulling her in. One of the baggage handlers helped her toward the door.
Okane and Cherry descended behind her, and the harness reeled up for the last time. The three waited in silence as the handlers shuffled around. The door to the forward car opened, and a woman in an ERA Sweeper uniform walked in. A beagle tugged at the leash in her hands.
“Welcome aboard,” said the Sweeper. “We’ll be taking you to a specially prepared car shortly, but before that there’s a procedure we need to run through. It’s just a formality, so please don’t think badly of us.”
“What kind of procedure?” said Cherry. While her eyes still looked red, her tone had gone from the rasp to her usual authority.
“This dog is trained to sniff out any infestations and empty amulets. We need her to check you for any threats.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Laura forced out.
Neither of the others objected, so the Sweeper loosened her grip on the leash. The dog bounded up and started sniffing. Laura jumped as its wet nose brushed her hand, but it didn’t stay interested in her for long. It moved on to the others, snuffling about before returning to its owner.
“I’ll also have to check the departed,” she said. “If they have any such amulets on them, they’ll need to be monitored or purified. Don’t worry, we won’t confiscate them indefinitely.”
She led the dog over to the coffins. Laura held her breath—would it be trained to recognize Gin too, or, working with Sweepers, would it be too used to kin-related energy? It let the first two coffins alone, but on the last it became interested. The dog sniffed more, scratched the wood, and started whimpering. The Sweeper drew closer, frowning.
“Open it up,” she ordered.
The baggage handlers looked reluctant but didn’t argue. They pried the lid off, and the dog launched itself up to smell inside. Despite the dog’s enthusiasm the men turned away, looking ill; it was Grim’s coffin. The dog sniffed his face and hands.
“Your dog isn’t trained as well as it should be,” said Cherry. She reached into Grim’s pocket and tossed a handful of stale caramels onto the floor. “I’ll give him credit for being able to smell those through a coffin, though.”
The Sweeper colored in shame, reeling the dog in. “I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t worry about it. I’d rather have the infestation check now than have one manifest in the middle of a train ride.” She glanced up at the baggage handlers and smiled sympathetically. “Let’s put that back on, shall we?”
The men rushed to replace the lid.
The Sweeper led them to a car near the back, a so-called mourning car. Compartments held coffins in place, while the rest of the car mimicked a dim parlor. A curtain could be pulled around specific sections for privacy. The baggage handlers transported the coffins safely into their slots before leaving. The Sweeper stayed a minute more.
“We hope you’ll be comfortable in here. For the most part you’ll be undisturbed, though an ERA officer may come through during patrols. If you need anything at all, please approach the attendant in the cars ahead. Do you have any questions?”
“None,” said Cherry. “Thanks for picking us up.”
The Sweeper gave another short, embarrassed bow, and led her dog away. Once the door closed, Cherry heaved a long sigh and turned to the others.
“Well, this has been a pretty shitty reunion, but I’m glad to see you two are doing okay!”
“I—yes, yes, it’s been shitty.” Laura coughed out a laugh. “Sorry, but you’re acting a lot more upbeat than I expected.”
“I thought I’d never find you!” Cherry leaned back against Grim’s coffin and rapped her knuckles against its side. “Hear that? You were right. They went straight to Zyra.”
She keeps acting as if that dead Ranger will sit up and join the conversation. Laura had thought Clarence exaggerated that, but no, it proved uncomfortably true.
“Were you looking for us?” she asked.
“Of course.” Cherry crossed her arms. “After we got rejected at the gates, I looked for ways to get in. I wasn’t about to let you go alone against your boss if I could help it. But then we got word that something else had gone down, and that you’d left Amicae all over again. While I’d been trying to get inside, Grim gathered information from other Rangers, and he made the connection between your red Egg and Rex. I figure the girl who’d confront and scold a would-be captor would be just as eager to take on the enemy, so we caught the next train to Zyra. You must’ve caught your thieves before they even reached Rex!”
“We actually went into the city,” said Okane.
“You what?” Cherry stared at him. “No offense, but how in hell did you escape in one piece?”
“Sheer dumb luck,” said Okane.
Laura elbowed him. “We had help from a Rexian. She got us in and out safely. Of course, as soon as we got out of her sight, we went and got ourselves stuck in a river.”
Cherry nodded. “And then we heard a city slicker honking their horn. And when Grim—” Her smile faltered. After a moment she murmured, “I really should’ve known. Rescue breaths. As if that would’ve worked on him.”
“Did he have some sort of condition?” Laura asked hesitantly. “You mentioned he got hives before, but—”
Cherry shook her head with a rueful smile. “Something like that. Something not like that. He’s always been a mystery. It’s strange, though. Whenever I considered him dying, I pictured him … falling apart, or just gone with the morning. This was very anticlimactic. Very human. I’m still not convinced it’s real.”
“Did I hear - - - say he had family in Amicae?” said Okane.
“That was a lie,” she replied. “As Rangers, we’re considered satellite citizens, so if cities go on lockdown we have no legal right to get inside. If, on the other hand, there’s a family tie inside the city, who are they to stop them from reuniting with the body and his poor, grieving widow?” She dabbed theatrically at her eyes. “I’ve seen bodies arrive by train before. A group of professional mourners carries the coffin wherever it needs to go, and let me tell you, no one interferes with professional mourners. If we leave Grim and your Gin with them, it’ll all be safe. With that confirmed, I’m free to escort you wherever you need to go.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Laura fretted.
“Positive.”
“But Grim—”
Cherry’s expression grew serious. “Grim’s entire home got flattened by a Rexian attack. He was the only survivor. He never liked to show much, but I knew him long enough to learn that Rex was the only thing he ever hated. If there’s potential for Rex to take down a city, he’d do anything to prevent it. He’d be in on this plan.”
Laura and Okane glanced at each other. He tipped his head in meaning, and she agreed; to Cherry she said, “We’d love to have your help.”
It took two full days to reach Amicae. The train sped through flatlands, crossed a bridge over a mighty river ten times bigger than the one they’d gotten stuck in, rounded the mountains, and steamed on toward the eastern coast. Few distractions reached the mourning car, and they could only go over their stories so many times before Laura went crazy. She spent most of her time sleeping on the second day, and had to be woken when they finally arrived.
“Laura? Laura, we’re here. - - -’ve got to wake up. Please?”
Laura grumbled and blinked her eyes open. “What?”
Okane looked relieved. “We’ve reached Amicae. We’ve actually been here a while, but - - - slept pretty deeply.”
“It’s only a matter of time until they unload us,” said Cherry, checking through her bag. “All the other passengers have already disembarked.”
Laura straightened to peer out the window. All she saw was a brick wall.
“Are we in the depot?”
“Makes it easier for priests to reach us,” said Cherry.
The compartment door opened, and Laura leapt to her feet.
“Your transportation is ready,” said an attendant. “Are you prepared to disembark?”
“We are,” said Cherry.
The attendant nodded and drew back. In came several men dressed in black. They gravitated to the coffins.
“Are these two together?” asked the man who had to be the lead mourner. It took a moment for Laura to take in the white overcoat, and another to recognize the man.
“Mateo?”
Mateo gave a short, surprised laugh. “I didn’t expect you to remember me. Yes, I’m Weaver Mateo, from the Three Child Church. Thank you for your service to our parish. I haven’t forgotten how you helped us.” He finished this off by bowing.
“It’s no problem!” Laura said quickly. “I’m just glad they’re okay.”
Mateo straightened. He gave the coffins a sad look. “I don’t want to weigh you further at this time, but … I’ve been following your story since Underyear, and read all of the recent news articles. Is one of these meant to represent Lester MacDanel?”
“No,” said Laura. “These are—”
“Brave Rangers who died to return Amicae’s magic,” Cherry butted in.
“Then the Sweepers’ magic really was stolen?” said Mateo. “But—Ra. Please forgive me. My attitude is very unprofessional and insensitive—”
“You’re fine,” said Laura.
“I’d actually be interested in hearing what’s gone on while we were gone,” Okane said carefully. “- - - said - - -’ve been keeping up with the papers?”
“Yes?” said Mateo.
“What exactly did they say about Lester MacDanel?”
Mateo glanced between the two of them, uncertain, but said, “A Sweeper building was attacked last week. It was reportedly an act of the mobs, and they left an infestation on-site that Juliana MacDanel destroyed before law enforcement arrived. The story is that you were bitter over the loss of your title, and collaborated with the Mad Dogs to give them the magic and to be rid of the head Sweeper, with the infestation meant to cover your trail. Lester MacDanel was reported killed by this infestation. The Mad Dogs have, of course, denied involvement. They’ve tried to defame MacDanel’s testimony. They seem to think she sold you to Rex for some reason.”
“For some reason,” Okane muttered darkly.
“They’re rather vehement about the subject,” said Mateo. “It’s been the Dead Ringer’s headline for days.”
The Mad Dogs must’ve remembered the Rexian Sweeper’s demands and finally put two and two together. If only they’d stopped Theron before all of this happened …
“They’re not completely right, but they’re on the right track,” said Laura. “We’re not the ones who stole the magic. We’re the ones who brought it back.”
She spoke with all the authority she could muster, and it worked. Mateo showed no signs of doubting her. Instead, he said, “I’ll accompany you.”
Laura’s bravado deflated. “I’m sorry, what?”
“It’s dangerous for you out there, if anyone recognizes you,” said Mateo. “I may not be able to do much, but the presence of a priest tends to make people think twice before making a scene. There are other priests here to help mourn. Let me speak with them first.”
He hurried away.
“We’re building an entourage,” Okane muttered.
“It’s a good thing,” said Cherry, patting their shoulders. “Remember what I said? No one messes with a professional mourner. Not Rangers, not mobsters, not anyone.”
Speaking with the priests took very little time, and soon Mateo returned to their side. Multiple teams of mourners took up the coffins and carried them out, and the Sweepers followed. The depot was crowded, but a hush fell over those nearby as the coffins passed. Soon the mourners had vanished through the depot’s side doors. Laura took a deep breath of depot air: steam, grease, cigarettes, and spice from the food carts. It was by no means pristine or orderly, nothing like Rex. It smelled like honest chaos. It smelled safe. It smelled like home.
“What are we doing from here?” said Okane.
“Taking back Amicae,” said Laura. “Let’s get Juliana out of here.”
She strode into the crowd. Okane and the others followed close behind.
“How?” he asked.
“Get the police involved. I don’t know if I want the regular police, since she’s already got them to accept her side of the story, but Byron—”
Someone stepped in front of her so fast, she almost ran straight into him. She stopped and scowled.
“Who—Oh! Byron!”
It was indeed Byron. He raised a brow, severely unimpressed. “What was that about me, Miss Kramer?”
“You’re exactly who I wanted to see,” said Laura.
“Of course.” His gaze flicked up to their companions—Cherry glowered, a hand under her coat and presumably on a weapon, while Mateo seemed glued to Okane’s left elbow. “And who are these people?”
“Escorts,” Cherry said shortly. “To make sure nothing happens to them.”
“Don’t worry, this is the investigator I told you about,” said Laura. “I trust him.” Cherry didn’t back down, but she didn’t make any move to intimidate him, either. Laura turned back to Byron and said seriously, “We need your help with Juliana MacDanel.”
“Yes, the woman you supposedly attacked. Just because her suit hasn’t come to court doesn’t mean—”
“She’s a danger to Amicae.”
For a long time Byron didn’t say anything. He sighed, stepped out of their path, and flopped onto the nearest bench.
“Byron?” Laura ventured. “You saw the letters, didn’t you? You know she and Lester—”
“Juliana MacDanel has appeared in almost every newspaper, looking like the lost maiden of a satellite raid. At this point she’s won more pity than a kicked dog and more hearts than Barnaby Gilda, and at every turn she’s saying it’s because these ungrateful Sweepers wanted to retake their title,” said Byron.
“We aren’t even the ones that hurt her,” said Okane. “She attacked us and we retaliated, yes, but that cut on her leg was self-inflicted.”
Byron rubbed at his eyes. “I figured as much, but we’ve got some very biased witnesses involved. You’ve got to understand, fleeing the scene is a very clear sign of guilt to most people. Without solid leads beyond Juliana’s story and the Dead Ringer screaming your support, the public had a very clear side. Almost everyone I know has aligned with Juliana.” He shot them an annoyed look. “Where did you even go? The last information I received said you were headed to Avis, but—”
“Rex,” said Laura.
“Please be serious.”
“I am being serious.”
He glared at them longer, but when neither of them spoke and their companions remained straight-faced, he paled. He turned to look after the coffins, whipped back to face them. “Then that—”
“Sinclairs and Gin,” said Laura. “Incidentally, all of them sold to Rex by Juliana.”
“I can serve as a witness to that,” said Cherry. “I found them as they were escaping that city.”
Byron lurched to his feet. “We need to get you all out of here. I’m getting you straight to the chief to figure this out, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting MacDanel’s supporters get you first.”
“Mr. Rhodes!”
Laura looked up at the shout. Annabelle wove through the crowd toward them, notepad held so tight it started to crumple. She stumbled to a stop.
“I—Mr. Rhodes, you have to get them—”
“What’s wrong?” said Byron.
Annabelle had to gasp for air before saying, “They know! Kramer and Sinclair’s return was leaked!”
“What? To whom?”
“All the papers! Boss said I had to run fast if I wanted to catch them! Dead Ringer had the news, too! Said if I didn’t run, the Mad Dogs would have them!”
Byron swore. “Did you see anyone else?”
“Sir, it’s a miracle they’re not already breathing down our necks,” said Annabelle. “Some were already outside, waiting for you to come out. I came in to warn you, but they’ll think I’m stealing the scoop and come in after me. If nothing else, my photographer—”
Another shout caught Laura’s attention. The usual crowd stalled around the main doors as a wave of people entered. The newcomers held notepads and recording devices, cameras borne aloft with flashbulbs gleaming. They looked ready to descend on a film star.
“It makes me wish Sweepers never became newsworthy,” said Annabelle.
“If they’re coming from the front, the side exits are our best bet. We’ll follow the mourners,” said Byron. “We’ll avoid the crowd, and avoid pictures from most—”
“No,” said Laura. “If fleeing the scene makes me automatically guilty, I’m staying right here.”
“Can you hear yourself?” Byron snapped.
“It’s not a good idea,” said Annabelle. “Even if you say everything right, opinions have already been made. You won’t win anyone over unless you uproot the problem entirely.”
“Agreed.” Cherry looked increasingly uneasy as the reporters closed in. “I’m all for taking stands, but this one seems pretty pointless.”
“Isn’t this the best way to uproot the problem?” said Laura. “I said I’d get the truth out, and this seems like the easiest way to go about it. This way no one can interrupt me, and they’ll have to read through my side of the story.”
“And what happens when the Dead Ringer gets here?” said Byron. “If the Mad Dogs make a scene—”
“Then I’ll tell them they can stay behind me, but I need to make a point that Amicae won’t believe if they’re the ones who print it.”
“And if the Silver Kings show up too?”
“As far as I can tell, I’m the closest thing to balance there is right now.”
“You know that, but they don’t,” said Byron. “These people shoot first and ask later. Worse, if they pick out Mad Dogs in the middle of this mess—”
“I’m staying,” Laura said firmly. “You and Cherry take Okane somewhere safe.”
“If - - -’re staying, I’m staying,” said Okane.
“You’re both ridiculous,” said Byron, but didn’t protest further; the reporters were upon them.
Mateo sped to the front of their group, but he couldn’t block the three consecutive camera flashes. Laura winced and squinted at the pressing crowd, the deafening shouts. Now that she faced these people, all she wanted to do was crawl in a hole. She forced her shoulders back, head up, and concentrated. She tried to channel Clae’s old coolness, but not just that; Clae had presence but Juliana had poise. She’d emulate them both.
“Please calm yourselves,” said Mateo, his arms spread. “These people have been through much tribulation recently, and should have peace. I—Please stop taking pictures, ra!”
“Excuse me,” Laura called, hopefully both loud and polite. “Could you all back up a step or two? I’ll be happy to answer your questions, but I’ll need some breathing room to do so.”
Mateo looked back at her, uncertain. “Is this wise?”
“Probably not,” she murmured. “I want to give it a try anyway.”
He stepped aside. The reporters shuffled. They only gave her an additional inch and a half, but it was something. Laura turned to Annabelle.
“You were the first one in here. You’re with the Sun, right? What questions did you have?”
Annabelle looked like she’d swallowed a lemon. Laura felt bad for putting her on the spot when they’d switched gears so suddenly—conspirator to journalist—but if she was going to bolster anyone’s career with a big scoop, she’d rather it be her. Luckily Annabelle recovered fast.
“Is it true that you attacked Juliana MacDanel on January seventh?”
Ouch. Before Laura could answer, others jumped in.
“Where did you go afterward?”
“Did you intend to kill her?”
“Were the mobs involved, as implied by the resurgence of circles?”
“For what reason did you attack Miss MacDanel?”
“It doesn’t matter,” said another voice. At once Laura froze and the cameras switched targets. “What’s done is done.”
Juliana. Byron hadn’t exaggerated. She looked like a poor woman in the aftermath of a Rexian raid: pale and sad, a crutch under one arm, and clothes carefully disordered. She was perfectly presented, all the way down to the wearily hopeful expression. A policeman flanked her on either side, but behind them were more people that Laura dreaded. To Juliana’s left came the Silver King who’d chased Laura off a bridge. On her right walked Haru and the Mad Dog from the shooting range. The mobsters were aware of each other, but their expressions showed only snide amusement and they held cameras of their own. Willing to stay under cover, then. Hopefully they’d stay that way.
Where Laura focused on the mobsters, no one else did. The reporters clamored at Juliana now. She raised a hand; the talk stopped, and reporters listened intently. Juliana looked at Laura with sickening sadness and said, “I forgive you for what you’ve done to me.”
From the corner of her eye Laura saw Okane’s hackles rise. She held out a hand to stall him.
“Thank you,” she said, smoothly as she could manage. “But I don’t think I’m the one who needs to apologize.”
Juliana shook her head. “You never did accept me taking your title. I tried being kind to you two, but if that doesn’t change your loyalty, I don’t know what could.”
Laura first instinct was to rage over how much kindness there was in holding people at gunpoint, but reeled that in. She wouldn’t be tempted into destroying her image so easily with all these people around.
“But while I can forgive you for myself,” said Juliana, “I can’t ignore what you could do to any future Sweepers. I’m sorry, Laura, but we can’t allow you to remain unchecked. Officers, please arrest her.”
The officers didn’t look particularly happy about this, but they must’ve believed the story. They moved toward her. The mobsters moved too. The Mad Dog stepped forward, grinning, hand slipping inside his coat. Haru dropped back, but the Silver King beelined to intercept.
“It’s strange,” Laura said quickly. “You haven’t asked us anything about your brother.”
For a moment Juliana’s face went blank.
“Lester,” she murmured. “Please, insult me all you want, but leave his memory in peace.”
“I suppose you’ve told everyone that he was eaten by an infestation?” said Laura.
Annabelle chimed in: “The story is that you planted it as a distraction, so you could steal the Sweeper magic supply.”
Laura scoffed. “And I suppose the Mad Dogs are supposed to have given it to me?”
“Are you implying that the Mad Dogs acted independently?” said another reporter.
“I’m implying that there wasn’t an infestation to begin with,” said Laura. “Lester didn’t die in Amicae and you know it.”
Juliana turned to one of the officers and loudly whispered, “I’m so sorry. I knew she spun stories, but I never thought—”
“Why should we damage a building we had all access to?” Okane snapped. “What would even be the point of a distraction?”
“So you’re saying you didn’t steal the magic,” said Annabelle.
“No, but we sure as hell got it back,” said Laura. “Which is incidentally where we met Lester.”
“So you accuse Lester MacDanel of the theft,” said Annabelle.
Juliana covered her face with her hands. “Lester,” she moaned. “What kind of terrible situation did he get into? I knew I should’ve called for help when the Mad Dogs approached him! They backed off then, but with their claws already in one Sweeper—”
“Oh, please,” said Laura. “The Mad Dogs didn’t order Lester to attack Joan. You all recognize the name, don’t you?” Laura looked around at them all. “The woman hand-selected by Puer’s head Sweeper for us? The woman who should be where Juliana is now?”
The name indeed struck a bell. Even the mobsters faltered. The Silver King’s brow furrowed, and Laura could swear the Mad Dog mouthed, Told you so, at his rival.
“Joan had a terrible accident,” said Juliana. “For you to trivialize her pain—”
“Oh, no, I think it’s very serious.” Laura raised her hands, wrists pressed together. “You can arrest me if you’d like. I’d be thrilled to speak with Chief Albright. I can fill her in on both Joan and Eliza.”
Juliana’s fingers twitched. When they drew down, her eyes burned with hate but her tone stayed in the same whimper.
“You can talk to her as long as you want. Joan would tell you, I had nothing to do with her accident, and Eliza … My poor friend Eliza’s been dead for two years now.”
“An infestation ate her, didn’t it?” said Laura.
Juliana nodded and dabbed at her eyes, apparently overcome with grief.
“What a handy excuse,” Laura seethed. “So, no body to examine? No way to prove foul play in Puer?”
Juliana gasped. “You don’t mean to say Lester had a hand in that? I can’t believe that. I won’t.”
“- - - witnessed it!” said Okane.
“I did no such—”
“You wrote the report,” said Laura. She had no idea if that was true, but the Juliana of today thrived on paperwork; if only she and Lester had been present at the end of that infestation, and if Lester was anywhere near as torn up then as he was at his confession, the only other witness had to complete it. A perfect opportunity to embellish her accomplishments. “You were there during the infestation. You saw everything. You were the only one who knew Lester shot her. You—”
“Shut up!” Juliana shrieked.
She shook, breath hissing through her teeth. Her calm was shattered, but she could still play it as being distraught. Laura knew better. She’d shown the same jitters right before attacking Okane. The mask was breaking.
“Maybe my brother did wrong, but he’s just died! Please let me at least process that before making accusations!”
“That was your first big job, wasn’t it?” Laura pressed. “You were so impressive and everyone thought you were so brave, but you didn’t do anything. Eliza did all of the work, and you stole credit for it! You couldn’t even leave her that!”
“I finished off that monster!” said Juliana. “She was long dead by then!”
“So - - - did see her die,” said Okane.
“Stay out of this, Rexian!” she spat.
Okane bristled, but he wasn’t the one to reply.
“Oh?” the Mad Dog drawled. “That’s not a Rexian. His looks and personality are all wrong. Look, he hasn’t even got numbers on his face.”
“Confirmed,” said the Silver King. “He doesn’t match any of the Rexians we’ve seen in the past few years.”
Only now did the officers and reporters notice them; the discomfort surrounding this shouting match descended straight into anxiety, but no one dared leave.
“Juliana would know a Rexian when she saw one,” said Okane, glaring at her. “She’s the one who made deals with them to sell all our magic.”
“That’s a lie,” said Juliana.
“Then the number-faced man staying at your apartment since Underyear, he was just a coincidence?” said the Mad Dog.
Juliana rounded on him. “You’re from that trashy Dead Ringer, aren’t you? All you publish are lies and bias!”
The Mad Dog laughed in her face.
“Miss MacDanel,” one of the police offers said urgently. “If you could please—”
She shrugged off his hand and leaned closer to the Mad Dog, snarling, “I’m not afraid of you or your mobs! All you exist to do is scare people for your own benefit, and I’m not afraid of you!”
“God, is she trying to get shot?” Byron grumbled, still eyeing the side doors.
“You’re not even a good Sweeper!” said Laura. Luckily this redirected Juliana’s wrath; more bloodshed hopefully averted. “All those times you came out on top, you had Lester sabotage everyone else! You’ve never actually done any of this yourself!”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Juliana. “How long have you been a Sweeper? A year?”
“And I’m still better than you,” said Laura. “You’re not interested in real leadership or improving your work. You just want your name in the headlines, and you won’t let anyone take your glory. If a yearling Sweeper like me can upstage you, what happens to any apprentices of yours? Will you keep them weak so they fall to infestations?”
“My apprentices will thrive, because they won’t be egomaniacal copies of Clae Sinclair!” Juliana retorted.
“When will it end, Juliana? How many Sweepers have to die to feed your ego? Lester, Eliza—”
“Eliza, Eliza,” Juliana spat. “You never knew her! You don’t even know anything about who she was, let alone how she died. What makes you think you have any right to argue with her name?”
Because Laura’s name could easily have been part of Lester’s confession. It could’ve been Laura. It could’ve been Okane. Eliza was only the beginning.
Laura sucked in a steadying breath and said, “You didn’t kill Eliza, but you covered it up. I can’t trust someone like you with Amicae’s future. This city is everything to me, and I won’t let you destroy it for nothing but your own ego.”
For a moment there was silence; then Juliana threw her head back. Her laughter echoed around them, magnified by the lack of everything else. Even outside their uncomfortable reporter bubble, the depot workers and travelers stopped moving, stopped talking, to observe the uproar. Travelers and reporters exchanged wary looks.
“I’m sorry,” Juliana giggled at last, wiping tears from her eyes. The mask had returned, impeccable. “I shouldn’t have laughed so hard. It’s all been getting to me, what with the stress and the injury. I started thinking about this seriously, when it shouldn’t be taken as such.”
“Excuse me?” said Laura.
“Let’s think of this in terms of fact, rather than hearsay,” said Juliana. “What can be observed and proven is this: Amicae’s Council was pleased with my interview and offered me the position of head Sweeper. I brought my brother with me as a Sweeper. I tried to lead you in Puer’s training, but you didn’t believe in it, and you resented being fired from the position I took. On the same day Amicae’s magic was stolen, you left me bleeding in the road and ran instead of obeying the officers present. You left Amicae with no explanation. Lester disappeared even before you did. You’ve returned with an elaborate story, but there’s no proof to back any of it up. How are we to know if you really spoke to Lester? How are we to know if anything he supposedly said is true? I’ll give you credit for your acting, but that’s the only thing we can weigh. The rest is hot air.”
Cherry’s face went red; she could serve as a witness, but all she really had to go on was Laura’s word, and if Amicae discounted Laura’s story, Cherry’s perspective wouldn’t hold water. Laura needed to target Juliana herself. She had to uproot the problem at its source.
Laura closed her eyes. “So, Eliza was eaten by an infestation?”
“Yes,” said Juliana.
“And Lester was eaten?”
“He must’ve been.”
Laura sighed and opened her eyes. “I can’t give you Lester’s body, but I can tell you where Eliza’s is.”
Juliana remained unfazed. “Laura, don’t you remember? What’s eaten by infestations can never be recovered.”
“Precisely.”
A pause, and realization flooded over Juliana’s face: white fear, red anger, expression twisting as she hit the tipping point.
“Puer,” Laura said loudly. “6649 West Kallas—”
“Shut your mouth!” Juliana screeched.
“Third Quarter—”
“You little—”
Juliana lunged. The nearest police officer wasn’t prepared, so she yanked his gun from its holster easily. For one heart-stopping moment Laura looked down the barrel, Juliana snarling at the other end, flashbulbs popping on either side. Then, miraculously, it changed course. The gun went up. A bullet hit one of the hanging clocks, shattering its glass face. The Silver King had slid in and knocked her arm up. Another sharp movement and the gun clattered to the tile. The Silver King hooked one leg under Juliana’s, twisted the arm still in her grip, and sent her crashing down. She knelt over Juliana, flicking out her knife and raising it.
“Stop.” Haru caught the Silver King’s arm.
She glared at him. “I’d have thought the Mad Dogs wanted this ending.”
“Balance can’t be kept if we don’t understand what affects it,” said Haru.
The Silver King studied him before saying, “True enough.” She tucked the blade away and sent the officer a dirty look. “Take care of this woman, or we’ll do it for you.”
She left. The crowd parted for her immediately.
“Mobster filth,” said Juliana, still trembling on the ground.
“I really don’t think I’m qualified for any of this,” said the still-armed policeman, while his coworker gingerly picked up the fallen gun. “We’re just here to check vendor licenses, not this.”
“Well, it’s your problem now,” said Haru. “Considering there are, say, fifty witnesses to an attempted shooting here, I’d say an arrest is in order.”
When the officers still hesitated, Byron prompted, “Rights of the accused.”
This startled them into action. One knelt down, pulling out handcuffs and reciting the rights. Juliana didn’t take this well. She clawed at him, eyes wild.
“I didn’t kill her! Lester killed her! Lester did all of it!”
“Please hold still, miss!” said the second officer, moving in to help. “This behavior isn’t very dignified!”
Juliana didn’t give a rat’s ass about dignity now. She lunged again. The officers hurried to cover their belts, but she’d aimed at Laura. Cherry and Mateo threw themselves in front of Laura, but a hasty grab at cuffed hands stopped her from reaching them.
“You think you’ve got the best of me?” Juliana raged; Laura felt flecks of spit land on her face and recoiled. “You’re the one who’s finished! I’ll run you out of this city, you and your whiny sidekick! This isn’t over!”
“Please take her away before she makes things worse for herself,” said Byron.
The officers each fit an arm under one of Juliana’s.
“This is treason!” Juliana howled as they turned her toward the nearest police box. “You can’t arrest your head Sweeper!”
In the wake of this, no one seemed to know what to do. Juliana’s breakdown was probably newsworthy, but it meant destroying the media darling they’d built up. The reporters came to see Laura’s ruin; some were obviously upset by the twist, and Laura couldn’t blame them.
Byron stepped forward, catching everyone’s attention with a commanding tone. “My clients will decline any further questions. This has already been a rough morning, and we’d prefer that the chief of police be the first to hear a full report. Thank you for your understanding.”
Laura forced herself to relax. Only now did she realize Okane’s tight grip on her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I should be asking - - - that,” he said. “I … That scared me a little. I’m glad that woman acted in time.”
“I suppose it helped that Juliana didn’t have a knife this time,” said Laura. “I don’t mean that as a joke. That scared me too. Tremendously.”
“Do - - - think that’s enough to get her out of Amicae?” said Okane. “Do we need to take it up with the Council, too?”
“I think a telegram to the Puer Sweepers will do the trick,” said Laura. “They can invoke Terulian Law, maybe even get Coronae involved. They’ll take her away. In the meantime, if she’s in jail, she can’t come after us.”
Honestly, no. On paper Juliana was the only remaining Sweeper in Amicae, and Clae had always implied that head Sweepers were beyond the usual law enforcement. Then again, Clae hadn’t attempted to shoot someone in the middle of the depot. Besides, if the Council put so much effort into her image they might insist on keeping her. She could be released in a matter of hours, could easily return to the shop and Okane’s home. Even if he managed to figure out the new lock, he wouldn’t be safe there.
“You should stay with me for the time being,” said Laura. “I can only offer you a couch, but it’s a step up from hiding in Rexian barracks.”
From his rueful smile, she knew his thoughts had followed the same line. “I’d appreciate that.”
“I assume you don’t have a place to stay, either,” said Mateo, looking at Cherry. “The Ranger district seems to be emptied. I can provide lodging at the church. The dead will be brought there anyway.”
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” said Cherry. “But damn, you two, I realized your boss was crazy, but I didn’t understand to what extent! She looked ready to rip out your throat!”
“Hopefully we won’t have to deal with her for long,” said Laura.
“Not if the chief has her way in this case,” said Byron.
They made their slow way out of the depot and toward the cable cars. Cherry and Mateo drew Okane into a conversation, but Laura stood closer to Byron as they waited for the cab to arrive. Ever since talking to Lester in Rex, she’d been considering an idea. It came together on the train ride back, but she wanted to go over it with someone first. Byron had picked up on everything she had, when it came to the MacDanels and Sweepers. Maybe he had insight on this, too.
“You have a suspect in the Falling Infestation, don’t you?” she said. “Not Sullivan, of course, but it’s not Rex, either.”
Byron grinned. “It sounds like you have a suspect, too.”
“The kingshound gave it away,” said Laura. “It may be associated with Rex, but more than that, it’s a mad dog. Just another version of the MARU circle.”
“Perceptive,” said Byron.
“What I don’t understand is why,” said Laura. “They took down their own infestation? Is that what it is? If their boss is an ex-Sinclair, he’d know too well what kind of danger that brings.”
“As much as it galls me to say it, there may be a good reason why the Silver Kings are on a rampage,” said Byron.
“The balance,” Laura said flatly.
“They do go on about that.” Byron breathed out a cloud of smoke. “They’re ruthless about anything they deem a threat to survival, usually to themselves but also for the city at large. You know what sparked unification and backlash at the MARU? The Council had an idiot plan to steamroll the native districts in the Fifth and Fourth Quarters. A ‘relocation’ plan. Anyone with a brain knew it was a bullshit story meant to cover a fucking genocide. It didn’t reach the papers, but it sure as hell reached the mobs. I cheered when Silver Kings assassinated the councilman responsible, but I can’t forgive what they did to me and to bystanders.”
“So they think Mad Dogs are a threat in the same way?” said Laura.
“Maybe. Maybe it’s all egos. I’ve been on the edge of the game so long, I can’t say.”
“You said you were an expert,” said Laura. “Were you in the mobs at some point?”
“MARU.”
“Oh.” She looked out over the tracks again. “Have you got any tips on staying out of this mess?”
“If they want to involve you, it’s hard to stay out. Keep insisting on neutrality. Silver Kings at least will respect that, and they’ll be determined to keep you that way.”
“They haven’t helped me much at this point,” she grumbled.
Byron chuckled. “Maybe today turns a new page. They might have new faith in you now.”
Laura shook her head. “But you can’t think of a reason for the Mad Dogs to set up that infestation? Not any hint from your MARU days?”
“That’s the problem. The leadership’s changed,” said Byron. He breathed out again and studied the smoke as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. “Mad Dogs has always been an oddity, but when the new boss came in, he gave them focus. They’re easily the most Sweeper-oriented mob here, so they know very well what they were doing and how to defend against it. They weren’t acting on a whim, and there’s no way something so elaborate could be a mistake.”
“You said before that maybe they meant to contain it,” Laura recalled.
“I think that’s the case,” he agreed. “Why? Who can tell? But it must’ve been clear to them.”